How to Create Chemistry by Janice Seagraves

 

HOW TO CREATE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN YOUR COUPLE

Apparently, this list has been passed around from romance writer to romance writer for years. Funny this is the first I’ve heard of it. So, if you’ve never heard of this list either, here it is.

 

1. Eyes to body; acknowledging that the other H/H is hot.
2.  Eyes to eyes; making eye contact.  
3.  Voice is hot. Nice deep. Laugh like little bells. That sort of thing.   
4. Hand to hand; first touch is the hand. I add a tingle here or with the first kiss.
5. Second touch: from wrist to shoulder.
6. Hand to waist: maybe small of the back?
7. First kiss. I’d add with a rush of heat or a tingle.
8. Hand to head, while kissing or perhaps one of the H/H runs a hand down the other’s hair.
9. Hand to body; first caress of the body. 
10. Hand to breast; or mouth to breast a prelude to love making   
11. Hand to private parts meant to arouse.
12. The full love scene or fade to black.

    
    

    Now for a special announcement. My fourth book in my Matrix Crystal Series is now available on Barns & Noble for the Nook: 

     https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/matrix-crystal-rebels-janice-seagraves/1138790532

    
    
     Earth geologist Steen’s mission is to look and act like a Zeeman so he can locate matrix crystals. But when Steen’s deception fails, the beautiful Rain Namaste coaches him. He doesn’t realize he’s fallen in love with the lovely redhead until someone tries to claim her on Hymeneal Night.
    Steen will do anything to get Rain back, but is he willing to take her as a Hymeneal bride for himself?

9.       

Alien Desire by Janice Seagraves

I had these graphics made and forgot I had them for Alien Desire.

I just need to figure out what to do with them.

Alien Desire available now.

Alien Desire (Chronicles of Arcon Book 2)

The Arcons Tane and Brock Moonwalker are vacationing in the small town of Greenwood. Tane is dealing with agoraphobia, a condition worsened by the loss of their female. Brock and his friend needed to get away, but a tiny, gang-ridden town is the last place they expected to find love.

Saki Starling had trouble on her heels and couldn’t catch a break. She lost her apartment and a local gang threatened her at every turn. With her week at its lowest point, Tane and Brock promised to brighten her darkening world.

Tane, Brock, and Saki must find a way to come together, if they have any hope of overcoming their past and heal their broken hearts.

“Hey, chica. C’mova ‘ere,” said a thickly accented voice.

Saki cringed. Emanuel was hanging out with his homies at one of the picnic tables. She swallowed hard. Damn, I should have known better than take a short cut through here.

“I’ve got to get home.” She walked faster.

Emanuel laughed. “No, you don’t. You ain’t got no home. My old lady said she saw you get kicked out of that roach motel you lived at.”

“I got a new place.” As she kept moving, her heart pounded a painful rhythm against her chest.

“With the aliens?” He jogged over, angling to cut her off, his baggy pants nearly falling off his ass. Hector and José trailed close behind. “You screwing those things from outa-space, chica?”

“I’m not screwing anybody.”

Emanuel grabbed her arm, turning her around. “Good. I got a job for you. A little skinny niña like you don’t get stopped. You look too sweet and innocent to be holding.”

Saki pushed him away. “I only did that once, and it was a mistake. I’m not going to be a carrier for you anymore. I almost got caught last time, you dick head.”

Emanuel turned to share a laugh with his cronies, and then he slammed her against the tree. While she gasped for breath, he grabbed her face in a painful grip.

“Puta. You’ll work for me until I tell you otherwise. Understand?” He looked her up and down. “If that’s not to your liking, then maybe there’s something else you can do for me and my homies.”

Hector and José both snickered, moving closer. Emanuel licked his lips and stared at her tits.

“Oh, hell no!” She kicked his knee.

“Jodeinda puta,” Emanuel cussed, still keeping Saki pinned with one hand. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

“No. You. Will. Not.” Saki slammed her knee into Emanuel’s crotch.

Emanuel loosened his grip to hold his family jewels.

Saki took a step to get around him, ready to run, but José with a smirk moved to block her way. When she went the other way, Hector stepped in to keep her from escaping.

“Excuse me, do you need any help?” asked a familiar cultured voice.

Emanuel straightened but didn’t even look around. “Get lost. I’m busy.”

“I wasn’t asking you.” A hand gripped Emanuel’s shoulder and spun him around. “As amusing as it was to watch Saki pound your testicles, I think I want a turn.”

Emanuel craned his neck, staring up at the much taller Arcon. “What the f—?”

“Here’s a lesson you need to learn, human.” Tane snarled, flashing his white canines. “You never hurt a female—ever.”

In a move almost too fast to see, Tane lifted Emanuel and sent him flying. The gangbanger landed on his backside, sliding through a pool of water, past a broken sprinkler.

Tane turned to the other two standing nearby. He cracked his knuckles. “Shall I show you some Arcon discipline?

 https://www.amazon.com/Alien-Desire-Chronicles-Arcon-Book-ebook/dp/B0854M8RZ4/

Two NEW Hot Romances - My Wish Come True & Pleasure Quest in Naughty Flames - 99¢ anthology #TinaDonahueBooks #EroticRomance #EroticSci-fi

I have two new hot romances in the Naughty Literati's NAUGHTY FLAMES release - woot!

99¢ for 11 fiery romances

Here's a sneak peek at both of mine and a video for all the books...

Amazon

November 1, 2016 - Available for preorder 

December 1, 2016 - Ready to Read

Features: Contemporary, Fantasy, Historical, M/F/M, M/M, M/M/F, New Adult, Paranormal, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Suspense, Rubenesque, Sci-Fi Fantasy, Shape-shifter, Stepbrother Romance & Threesome

Featuring My Wish Come True by Tina Donahue

Baby, it’s hot inside…

For Laurel, Christmas so sucks. She’s out of a job, money, and luck until her neighbor Scott plays Santa. This tall, dark, and sexy hunk delivers sweet decadence and holiday magic that makes being bad oh-so good.

Excerpt:

Laurel Austen jerked awake, uncertain why.

Someone shrieked, paused, and wailed again.

She winced and forced one eye open. Crumbs decorated her kitchen table, along with chocolate smears from cookies she couldn’t bake. Depressed by the season and her current circumstances, she’d gobbled the remaining raw dough. A bad move according to the CDC or some other government agency that warned against salmonella, E-coli, Ebola, or a disease-of-the-week. Just what she didn’t need.

Screech-screech-screech.

Like the Energizer Bunny the damn noise kept going and…

“Oh crap.” She jumped up and flapped her hands. “No, no, no.”

Her oven belched smoke worse than an active volcano, her cookies burnt to ash. The smoke alarm hit it highest note and stayed there, loud enough to break her eardrums.

“Hey!” A deep male voice in the hall cut through the racket.

Couldn’t be her neighbor Scott Quinn. With the other tenants gone for the holiday, she’d hoped to corner him at last and impress him with her awesome baking skills.

A fist pounded on her front door. “You okay in there?”

She was light-years from all right. Moving to Boulder had been a huge mistake despite the supposed job opportunities and men outnumbering women by an awesome margin. Neither situation had worked for her, and now this. It was him. She’d recognize his rumbling baritone anywhere.

“Ms.…ah.…” He hammered again. “Ms.!”

He didn’t even know her name. She hadn’t combed her hair. Wasn’t wearing makeup. This couldn’t get worse. “Yeah, I’m—” She coughed and turned off the oven.

He knocked hard enough to rattle her teeth.

Before he called 911, she slapped on a smile and swung her front door open.

He peered over her head into her crappy studio apartment. An easy task given his height. At least six-three, he had broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, and a super impressive bulge behind his jeans fly. Stuff that fueled female wet dreams.

Her mouth watered.

Scott batted away smoke. “Where is it?” He shouldered past her, an extinguisher in hand.

“What? You mean fire? There isn’t one. It’s my oven. I turned it off. My cookies burned. No biggie. Everything’s cool.”

The screaming alarm contradicted her.

He flicked on the oven fan and checked the appliance. “You need fresh air in here to get rid of the…” He stopped at her window caked with ice. Snow came down in huge, wet flakes.

According to weather.com, Boulder hadn’t experienced a winter this cold in decades. Lucky her. “I’m afraid you can’t open that. It’s frozen shut.”

He rubbed his arm.

Laurel bet his skin goose-pimpled beneath his gray Henley. She would’ve sold her soul to snuggle close and get him warm.

“Don’t you find it cold in here?” He checked her thermostat and whistled. “It’s only fifty-two degrees.”

Before she’d turned on her oven, the temperature had dipped to the upper forties. “Can’t be winter forever, right?” She forced a laugh.

He looked over.

Black hair skimmed his forehead and curled around his ears and neck, a just-got-out-of-bed look that made her blood race. Same as his stubble. By her guestimate, he had testosterone to spare and couldn’t be more than thirty.

He tapped her thermostat. “Your heat’s off.”

Smart and gorgeous. No guy deserved eyes that blue. And his lashes… Even with mascara, she’d never made hers so dark and long. “Uh-huh.”

“Is the unit broken? Did you call the manager?” Scott frowned. “Did that jerk give you grief? He whined like a two-year-old when I needed my kitchen lights replaced.” He raised his handsome face to the fixture. Off. The only light source was the small bulb above her oven and what illumination spilled in from the hall. “Want me to talk to him about getting this stuff fixed?”

“No, please.” She held up her hands.

Scott regarded her oven mitts and ensemble. Boots, several fleece sweats that made her thighs even bigger, and a puffy parka that gave her a bod like the Michelin man.

The four sweatshirts she wore beneath her coat didn’t help. “This isn’t his fault. I’m sure the heat and lights work fine. I don’t turn them on. Actually, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

This wasn’t how Laurel envisioned their first conversation, Scott cocking one eyebrow at her as he would someone seriously nuts. She shrugged and tried to act upbeat. “I kind of—”

The alarm sputtered, gave one last painful wail and cut off.

She sagged. “Finally, huh? My ears were about to bleed.”

“Mine too. What were you saying?”

By now, most guys would have fled with their extinguishers, grateful she hadn’t caused a blaze that threatened their digs. Scott’s interest and possible concern surprised and dismayed her. Laurel didn’t want his pity. “Nothing really. That is, I wasn’t saying anything important. I lost my job, that’s all. I wasn’t fired for cause. They loved me. Just not enough. I was outsourced or maybe insourced. I’m not sure what you’d call what happened to me. They found someone else or rather something else that was way cheaper than my salary and benefits. Not that my medical and earned time off were great or that I made a fortune there. But money’s money, huh? At this point, I’ll take anything. Even Walmart hasn’t called back. Been a tough few months. After Christmas though, things should look up.”

“Something else?”

She wasn’t making sense. Heat burned her cheeks. The warmest she’d been in days. “Yeah. I’m embarrassed to say a computer replaced me.”

“You were in customer service?”

“I wish. I’d probably still be working. I compiled information from various sources and wrote news articles for our clients.”

Scott brightened. “You’re a journalist.”

“Not there I wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t do reporting. Simply pulled facts together and wrote stuff I thought was interesting. Management said the computer did it faster and better. Go figure. However, I do have a communications degree and the crushing student debt that goes with it. Life is good.” She bared her teeth in what she hoped was a smile. “By the way, I’m Laurel Austen.”

“Scott Quinn.” He put out his hand.

She fumbled with her oven mitt and finally used her teeth to pull it off. Beneath it she wore her Hello Kitty mitten. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.”

His firm grip weakened her knees. His dimple stroked her soul.

____________

Also featuring Pleasure Quest (bonus story) by Tina Donahue

Blurb:

She’s into virtue. He’s not. On a pleasure asteroid, he’ll show her what paradise really is.

Excerpt:

2116 AD
Desexo 69, pleasure asteroid at end of Milky Way

Hunter Sloane teleported into Buzz, the last stripper-gin joint before the unchartered universe. The establishment’s owner had contacted the Federation about trouble here, wanting it stopped pronto, the perp in question caught and disposed of…preferably in deep space.

No one demanded action and retaliation like business owners pissed they’d lose profit.

To Hunter, everything appeared normal. Thunderous music in here and solar flares outside, rattled the building and shook Martian dust from his leather jeans and combat boots. Purple, orange, and red laser lights pumped in time with the raucous tune. Quadruple X-rated movies played on the walls.

Maybe he had the wrong place. He activated the databank on his wrist. This location proved accurate.

The capacity crowd partied hard.

Humans, aliens, cyborgs, androids, and beings Hunter couldn’t identify performed stripteases on the many stages or boogied their hearts out on the dance floors below. Those who were still dressed sported garish hair, makeup, and clothing, the peacock colors meant to entice sexual partners. No problem there. Contorting bodies filled all available space.

Musk, sweat, perfume, booze, and pleasure drugs thickened the air.

“Hey, doll.” A female alien covered in brown-and-gold body hair sidled up and cupped his balls. “What’s your pleasure?”

He shouted as she had. “Careful.” He eased her talons from his nuts. “I’m looking for trouble.”

Her wide smile bared her elongated canines. “You’ve come to the right place.” She fondled her breasts and licked her black lips. “There’s a free table over there. It’s got our names on it.”

“Sorry. I’m here on official business.” He brushed past. Yellow and green spotlights swept patrons. He craned his neck.

Something white flashed within the gaudy colors.

His quarry. Security cameras had captured her the moment she’d stepped into this place. The facial recognition databank provided her name and other particulars.

He shouldered through the throng, sidestepped those screwing in ménages or groups, and stopped at a booth near the back.

The young woman didn’t notice him. Bent at the waist, she shouted at the human couple humping on the table. “Please, just listen to me for a minute.”

They kissed and fucked.

She gestured frantically. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

On a loud bellow, the guy climaxed. The woman shrieked happily.

No one had to tell them how to have fun.

Hunter stepped closer and yelled above the noise. “Melody Prudence Patience Carlyle.”

She flinched and whirled around.

He forgot what he’d intended to say.

Bluer eyes than hers didn’t exist in this universe. She’d pulled her flaxen hair into a prim braid that dangled over her lush breasts and swayed above her narrow waist. She wore no makeup. Didn’t need any. Inner heat tinted her cheeks and lips a deep rose that enhanced her sweet features. Musk suffused her clean fresh scent.

Warmth rolled through him. His cock thickened, balls tightened, both ready for action.

Unfortunately, her startling white body suit bore two large letters in red that killed his carnal high. Her kind had no business being in this joint, her presence a class AAAA felony and why the owner had alerted the authorities.

She lifted her face. “Yes?”

Her expectant, guileless look stole every word Hunter knew. Given the heathens in here, she was beyond different. “Ah, Melody Prudence Patience Carlyle?” Unnecessary to ask again since she couldn’t be anyone else, but it was all he could come up with.

She frowned. “No.”

He didn’t understand. The description on the alert fit her perfectly, including her cute white boots. “Then who are you?”

“Modesty. Not Melody. Who are you? Wait.” She took in his height, black leather jacket, jeans, and the jagged scar on his left cheek. Hope lit her lovely features. “You’re the bouncer, right?” She pointed at the couple who’d resumed their carnal play. “They won’t listen to me. Get them to stop. Please. After you’re through with them, you can keep the others in line.”

The Milky Way’s combined armed forces couldn’t corral this randy group. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m Hunter Sloane, an enforcer, not a bouncer. I’m here to arrest you.”

She blinked rapidly. “What?”

“You’re from the Purity Patrol.” He gestured to the embroidered PP above her boob. Her nipples had tightened. Nice. “Your group isn’t allowed to proselytize here or anywhere in the galaxy for that matter. You’re messing with everyone’s good time.”

Prolonged moans and excited shrieks rang out. Music roared. Deafening bass pounded. Its frenzied beat matched his hammering heart. Her pale eyebrows shot up. “Ruined their good time? Since when?” Her gesture took in the room. “No one’s listened to me.”

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