Friday, July 29, 2016

Getting K(ink)y with an exclusive excerpt!

Have you picked up your copy of the hottest box set of the summer? Time is running out to grab Curved Lines for the super dooper discounted release price of 99 cents. Don't miss out on this great deal!

10 Hot Tattooed Alpha Men and the Curvy Women They Love. Let these bad boys sweep you off your feet in this bestselling boxed set! From billionaires to shifters, there’s a book boyfriend for everyone.

Google Play:
All Romance:
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU

My contribution to the set is K(ink)y Curves. For those of you who've read my Kinky Chronicles series you'll see some familiar faces and meet some new ones. I hope you fall in love with these characters as much as I have. Here's an exclusive look!

K(ink)y Curves

Charlie Cross is the reigning queen of dirty talk. As a phone sex operator, she’s fielded every kink and fetish in the book. Nothing fazes her. Okay, not entirely true. There’s one client who’s gotten under her skin. Grady. He’s dangerously close to peeling back the layers she’s worked so hard to keep hidden. And the last thing she needs is for him to discover the truth—how completely imperfect she is.

Grady The Grinder Montana. With a name like that he must be a stripper, right? Guilty as charged. He’s damn good at it too. Forget moves like Jagger, his make the Benjamins rain. Women scream his name every night. On stage or in bed, the result’s the same. Not one damn bit of it matters, though. The only real thing in his life is Charlie. With her he’s only Grady. The Grinder doesn’t exist. Their relationship is uncomplicated, liberating, and...perfect.

Until the day their worlds crash together. No illusions. No safety nets. Just two damaged, dirty, perfectly imperfect people about to fall hard. Love isn’t always pretty. Sometimes it’s messy and real. And exactly what you need.

Slipknot’s latest CD soundtracked his drive home. Thank God for heavy metal. Better than caffeine at keeping him awake behind the wheel. He pulled into his single reserved space across from his apartment unit and killed the engine. Only other signs of life were the swarms of fishflies invading the nearby light pole. Those damn insects were way more energetic than he was at the moment.
Not that long ago, dragging his ass home at one in the morning had been a lifestyle choice. Back then, he’d walk into walls after imbibing a few too many adult beverages. Damn miracle if he made it to his bed before passing out. The only cause for him staggering through the door these days? Exhaustion. Pure and simple.
He tossed his keys in the general direction of the console and kicked off his sneakers. Smothering a yawn with his fist, he trekked to his hidey-hole of a bedroom cubbied in the corner of his equally tiny studio. Yeah, the place was barely bigger than a closet, but it didn’t come with a belligerent old man who enjoyed cracking him one with a beer bottle. He flopped on top of the mattress without bothering to remove his jersey track pants. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
At twenty-six and some change, he was far from being the youngest dancer at the club. Not that he was ready for the stripper retirement home yet, but night’s like this his joints gleefully reminded him who was boss. He crooked an arm over his eyes and exhaled wearily.
He must have dozed off because his snore woke him a second later. Groaning, he dropped his hand and glanced toward the alarm clock. Two a.m. Shit. He’d fallen asleep and missed his call to Charlie.
An odd emptiness settled in the pit of his stomach. He never missed a night. Stalling in mid thought, he replayed that realization. Holy hell, that made him sound like a major pervert. Daily phone sex for the past year. No wonder he was always broke.
But it wasn’t only about the sex. There were plenty of times they didn’t even get each other off. They’d talk about movies and weird but extremely important stuff, like whether or not Scrappy Doo is one of the most annoying cartoon characters of all time. Spoiler alert—he is. In the last several months their conversations had become increasingly more intimate and deep.
She knew things about him that he never shared with anyone, including how he’d lost his virginity at fourteen in an attempt to anesthetize away his pain over his mom’s cancer diagnosis. In turn, Charlie told him about her own grief and struggle with her grandma’s passing. Particularly how rough the last few months were, when the Alzheimer’s made Charlie and her sister, Kaitlin, strangers to their grandma. He and Charlie had bonded over their experiences, growing closer than ever. Despite that, he didn’t talk about his dad. She didn’t know about The Grinder. He didn’t want those things to ruin what they had, so they’d remain locked away in his chest of unspoken things.   
Plowing his hands through his hair, he stared at the ceiling. Great. Now he was wide awake and wired. Like a junkie a week out from his last fix. Only in this case it meant getting through the night without hearing her voice. How was that remotely doable?
Listen to yourself. You sound like a crazy person. Just pop a damn sleeping pill and be done with it.
He peered at the glowing numerals on the clock. Two a.m. wasn’t all that late. Sure, for normal people, maybe. But not them. Odds were good she was still awake. If not, he’d leave a message and apologize for missing their time. It’d be the decent thing to do.
The constricting heaviness lifting from his chest, he dug his cellphone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts for Charlie’s 800 number. He pressed the Send button, relief already working its magic on him.  
 Two rings got through before her husky, slightly sleepy voice rasped across the line. “Hello, McHorny.”
He grinned at the nickname she’d christened him with after their spirit animal chat. “How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would call me at two in the morning?”
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe one of your other clients who is way less awesome and horny than me?”
She snorted. “If that last part was true I doubt they’d be calling me, smarty pants.”
“Well, see, that just proves they are lacking in the awesome department. I’d call you even if I wasn’t horny.”
“So you’re saying you’re not?”
“Mm, let’s not get crazy here.” He rested his hand on his belly and drummed his fingers. “But seriously, is it too late to talk? I was going to leave a message. Didn’t want you to think I’m some huge jackass who stands up his phone sex goddess.”
“Goddess, huh? Someone is trying to butter me up.”
“What’s this, you say? Slather your delicious body with warm melted butter and then ride you like a sexy Slip N Slide? Okay, you twisted my arm.” Distracted by the enticing visual in his head, he trailed his hand lower on his abdomen. His cock stood at attention, an always eager and primed participant in their conversations. Rather than give in to its beckoning call, he ignored his dick.  Anticipation was half the fun, right? He propped one foot on top of the other and inspected the crooked toe seam on his sock.
“Or there’s this little thing called massage oil,” Charlie offered, breaking through his perusal. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Nah, I’m kinda digging the idea of butter now.”
“Uh huh. Why do I have the feeling this is going to segue into butt sex?”
Her suspicious tone prodded a chuckle from him. “Hey, I didn’t say anything about that. Clearly you’re the guilty party who’s watched Last Tango in Paris one too many times.”
“Ah ha! So you admit you were at least thinking about it.”
“I’m a guy. Butt sex crosses my mind several times a day. Usually at the most inconvenient moments, too. Like when I’m in an elevator full of nuns.”
“Really? How in the world did that come about?”
He’d been on strip-o-gram duty. Private bachelorette party at the MGM Grand Detroit. Who knew what the nuns were doing there? Maybe trying their luck at the blackjack table. “Can’t recall. Blocked the whole traumatic thing from my mind.”
“Poor baby. We can’t have you suffering flashbacks. Now back to this erotic Slip N Slide you mentioned. It sounds an awful lot like a Nuru massage.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re kidding me. I’ve actually discovered something McHorny hasn’t heard of?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you pumping your fist in victory right now?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Well, since you’ve already got the pumping action going, I have something else you can workout with. Your own personal dick dumbbell, if you will.”
“Aw, you’re too generous.”
“I know. Always a giver. And a grower.” He finally relented and slid his hand past his waistband. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he closed his eyes. 


Because I'm an evil author, I'm going to leave you hanging there. Yes, I'm a horrible tease. ;)

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

A Sizzling Sweet Deal!

Just in time for Valentine's Day! A hot firefighter, sexy times in a kitchen, baked goods, and random Star Wars references all for only 99 cents! You can pick up your copy at

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Blue Collar Hunks & Red Hot Heroes!

It's new release Tuesday and I'm celebrating with 2 hot releases! Both are available for 99 cents for a limited time, so grab this deal before it's gone!

An anthology of novellas about hunky blue collar, hammer wielding heroes and the women who tame them. Stories are by USA Today Bestselling Authors Cari Quinn, Cathy Clamp, Anna J. Stewart, and featuring authors Jodi Redford, Amie Stuart, Leah Braemel, and Chudney Thomas.

Get down and dirty with this sexy blue collar bundle featuring seven original contemporary romance novellas that range from sweet to sizzling. 


                                                       Red Hot Authors


                                                        Barnes & Noble





  Read on for an Excerpt from Report For Booty

Friday, October 23, 2015

Wicked Reads Blog Hop

Hi everyone! Welcome to my spot on the Wicked Reads Blog Hop! I hope you're enjoying the tour and discovering a bunch of new authors and entering all those fabulous giveaways! For my giveaway I'm offering up a $10 Amazon GC and winner's choice of any 2 of my ebooks from my backlist. You'll find the Rafflecopter down at the bottom of this post, but first I'd love to share a bit about an exciting new box set I'm a part of that will be releasing Nov 3rd.

The Hunks, Hammers, and Happily Ever Afters set features 7 sexy blue collar, hammer wielding hunks and the ladies who know exactly how to tame them. Or at least they try! ;) The collection is available for pre-order right now for a limited time price of 99 CENTS. Talk about a smokin' deal! My contribution is Knotty Magic. Here's a little exclusive first peek:

                                                                  Pre-order from
                                                             Barnes & Noble

                                                            Add to your Goodreads shelf

Knotty Magic

To free yourself of the past, sometimes you have to believe in the impossible. For professional logger, Huck McKenzie, that means not only admitting magic exists, but opening his heart to the one woman who stands between him and a $20,000 payday—Tully Eastwood. Getting trapped together in an enchanted forest? Yeah, that won’t end badly. Especially when frisky nature spirits decide to turn up the heat. But giving into lust is one thing. Can two stubborn hearts take a chance on love? It’ll take a whole lotta knotty magic to pull off this miracle.


“Why do I have a bad feeling you’re going to call me in an hour needing bail money?”

Tuning out her grandmother’s dire prediction, Tully Eastwood gunned the engine of her ancient station wagon and slammed the gear into reverse. A car horn blared, presumably in response to her nearly clipping its front end. She offered the offended driver a wave in apology and received the woman’s middle finger in return.
Well, that was just plain rude and uncalled for. Grumping under her breath, Tully finished backing up, allowing the vehicle to speed past her. Shaking her head, she straightened the steering wheel and dared a glance toward the curb fronting Blue Moon Books. Her granny remained glued in place, worry stitching a new batch of wrinkles across her brow. 

Sighing, Tully ducked her head out the window. “Stop your fretting. I promise to keep my cool.”

“Dearest, you don’t know the meaning of that word. It’s the curse of being a redhead and an Eastwood. That poor man doesn’t stand a chance.”

No, he doesn’t. Whatever it took, she was going to knock some sense into Huck McKenzie’s thick noggin. Grinding her teeth, Tully shifted into drive and stomped on the gas. 

Trying to keep track of the occasions she and Huck butted heads could be its own full time job. Seriously. Yes, she was outspoken about certain things, especially when it came to preserving the pristine beauty of their small community. But someone needed to give a damn. If the logging outfit Huck worked for had their way, they’d end up felling every tree in a hundred mile radius. 

Bad as that might be—and it certainly would be, in her book—this latest development amounted to an all-time low. According to the gossip she’d overheard in the store earlier, Blue Moon’s magic tree was about to face the chopping block. Only this time, a greedy, conscienceless corporation wasn’t to blame. No, that rested squarely on Huck’s shoulders, seeing how he owned the property containing the tree. 

She wasn’t merely pissed about what he was doing. It was a complete act of betrayal. Because for her and Huck, the tree wasn’t only a magical wonder, it was also responsible for their very existence. But instead of honoring that fact and protecting the oak from money grubbing developers, he was cashing in. 

That motherfucker.

Her grandmother’s words chose that inconvenient moment to pop to the forefront of Tully’s mind. “Go easy on him, Dearest. You know he’s going through a difficult time right now.” 

Beneath the hazy of fury causing her to white-knuckle the steering wheel, another emotion settled in. One far more uncomfortable to acknowledge in the harsh light of day. 

Three days ago Huck’s ex gallivanted back into town after a two year hiatus, flashing an engagement ring—put there by his former best friend. It had to have been a gut punch to Huck. How did she know? She’d experienced that lovely sensation every second of every day during Huck and Melanie’s couplehood.

Yeah, being in love with her biggest enemy? Clearly she had a Ph.D in irony and WTF are you thinking.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to enter my Rafflecopter. To follow on to the next hop just click the linky list buttons down below or the linked Wicked Reads banner at the top of this post. Have fun hopping!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Saturday, October 3, 2015

Special Guest~ Kimberly Dean + FREE ebook!

Today I welcome author Kimberly Dean, who’s excited to announce the release of the second book in her Dream Weavers series, Dream Walker.  To celebrate, she’s offering the first book, Dream Man, for free for a limited time on Smashwords! Make sure to read all the way to the bottom of this post to check out this great offer!

Dream Weavers

They are the Oneiroi, Greek daemons of dreams. As Dream Weavers, their mission is to watch over sleeping humans—for without dreams, chaos can reign. So the Oneiros brothers blend in with the waking world by day and watch over their charges by night, protecting humans from the creatures who would prey upon their sleep. But what happens when the Oneiroi have dreams of their own? And what happens when they fall in love with those they’re duty-bound to protect – or the enemies they’ve sworn to fight?

Research scientist Shea Caldwell has always had a thing for security consultant, Derek Oneiros. He’s smart, handsome, and built like a Greek god. As attracted as she is to him, though, she’s afraid to let him into her bed – because she’s dangerous when she sleeps.

Derek is known among his brothers as “The Machine,” yet his carefully cultivated control is put to the test whenever he’s around Shea. The woman is as beautiful as she is intelligent, but they’ve always kept things professional – until Derek learns why. Shea is sleepwalking again, but what she doesn’t know is that he may be the only one who can help her. For he is a Greek daemon, and he’s charged with protecting her dreams.

With Shea threatened, Derek makes things personal, and their nights together turn steamy and intimate. He’s ready to battle against the Somnambulist that’s been controlling his lover in her sleep, yet is the night creature really causing all the harm? When Shea’s groundbreaking research notes are stolen, it’s clear that other evil forces may be at work.


He’d let her fall asleep.

It was the first clear thought that ran through Shea’s mind when she opened her eyes. That and the fact that Derek was still with her. His heat pressed against her back, and his arm draped heavily across her waist. They were lying side by side on her bed, her body tucked up close against his.
Yet even as she responded in pleasure, she tensed.

Darkness was falling. They’d spent the day making love, and now the sun was setting. Night was creeping in. She stared at the oil painting that hung on the wall until her nerves began to crawl. Even the littlest thing could set her Somnambulist off—and today had been anything but normal—yet she’d let herself be lulled into sleep. 

What had she been thinking?

“There you are,” a deep voice rumbled. The hand against her stomach flexed, and she was pulled more tightly against the big male form behind her.

A muscled thigh slipped between her legs, and Shea arched as a soft kiss was placed on the side of her neck. The intimate embrace had her groaning. Obviously, she hadn’t been thinking. Her brain had been shorted out, disconnected, and thrown right into the bathwater. 

How could she have let her guard down like that? The freedom had been fantastic, arousing and intoxicating as fine wine, but how could she have forgotten what had been happening to her? What had happened just this morning?

Had she… Oh, God. Had she done anything in her sleep? With Derek here?

“How long have I been out?” she asked in a rush.

“Not long.”

That rumbling voice was too disconcerting, too sexy. She had to look into his eyes. Tucking the sheet up high under her arms, she rolled over to face him. When she did, her breath caught in her chest. His short hair was mussed, and dark shadows lined his jaw. The bad boy look didn’t fit his character, but it was so incredibly hot she had to press her legs together.

Unable to help herself, she let her gaze drop. She took in the well-drawn lines of his body, his muscled chest and rippling abs, but the sheet sitting low on his hips wasn’t what made her look up again. It was the relaxed look on his face. She’d never seen him so calm, so relaxed, so at ease in the moment. It made her belly warm.

Relaxed had to be good, right? If she’d gotten up and danced zombie pirouettes around the bedroom, he wouldn’t be relaxed. 

Or so obviously ready to make love to her again.

Buy links:
Available at:  AmazonNookGoogle PlayKoboiBooks

Dream Man
What happens when your dream man is real?

Devon must decide if Cael Oneiros is the man of her dreams – or the demon of her nightmares.

Available for free at Smashwords.  Use coupon code AD78Z at checkout.  Expires Oct. 31, 2015.  Reviews appreciated!

About the Author
When taking the Myers-Briggs personality test in high school, Kimberly was rated as an INFJ (Introverted-Intuitive-Feeling-Judging). This result sent her into a panic, because there were no career paths recommended for the type. Fortunately, it turned out to be well-suited to a writing career. Since receiving that dismal outlook, Kimberly has become an award-winning author of romance and erotica.  She has written for seven publishing houses, both domestic and international, and has recently focused her efforts on the exciting world of self-publishing. When not writing, she enjoys movies, sports, traveling, music, and sunshine. In her mind, a beach, some rock ‘n’ roll, and a good book make for a perfect day.

Social media
Follow Kimberly on Twitter @KDean_writer.
Kimberly’s Goodreads Author Page
Kimberly’s Amazon Page