We are the authors Sierra Wolfe, Tierney O'Malley, Wendy Ely, Alisha Paige, Mark Alders, Kate Davison, and Gracen Miller. Welcome to our blog. We hope to entertain and inform you. This is where we will share our writing journeys and life experiences, and maybe, share a bit of wisdom we pick up along the way. We hope you enjoy it!
Gracen is a hopeless daydreamer masquerading as a "normal" person in southern society. When not writing, she's a full-time basketball/football/guitar mom for her two sons and a devoted wife to her real-life hero-husband. She's addicted to writing, paranormal romance novels and movies, Alabama football and coffee…addictions are not necessarily in order of priority. She is convinced coffee is nectar from the gods and blending coffee and writing together generates the perfect creative merger. Many of her creative worlds are spawned from coffee highs. To learn more about Gracen or to leave her a comment, visit her website at www.gracenmiller.com.
I like to read and write just about anything. But I am a sucker for a Happily-Ever-After. I need to know characters ride off into the sunset and all is right in their world. That's why I chose romance instead of another category. HEA's aren't always promised in other genres, though I do read them too.
Most of the time you'll find me at the keyboard, moving between the 5 projects I tackle at a time.
Most of the time you'll find me at the keyboard, moving between the 5 projects I tackle at a time.
I write paranormal, magic realism, fantasy, erotic and vintage romance. I live in a haunted house built in the 50s and love to drink red wine and eat dark chocolate while sitting in the swing out back. I love to watch my children play in the sandbox while my dogs wrestle on the grass. Does life get any better? It's the simple things in life I cherish.
Writing is an adventure I started at a young age but never took it serious until last year. My focus is on contemporary romance and have two books coming out later this year. Besides writing, I run a childcare, attend college, and am a single mom. Life isn't boring for me!
- Aimee St. Claire
- Amy Redwood
- Cate Masters
- Debra Kayn
- Haven Rich
- Jen Bluekissed
- Keta Diablo
- Lainey Bancroft
- Lucy Woodhull
- Lynne DuMae
- Moonlight, Lace, & Mayhem
- Regina Carlysle
- Romantic Inks
- Sela Carsen
- Tales From the Crit
- Tammie Jin
- The Naughty Girls Next Door
- Three Wicked Writers
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Hey all you wicked bloggers! I'm thrilled to be a part of The Brood Series coming soon to NCP. Here's an excerpt from Uncaged. Send me your thoughts.
When an African lion wakes up on board a ship bound for London in 1772, he has no choice but to shift into the very creature that has captured and caged him in order to free himself. Fifteen years have passed since the lion has called himself by his given name, Bruce Remington. Time enough to forget life as a man, but when Bruce meets the captain’s daughter, Wren Whittier, a lovely quadroon, the scent of a woman comes flooding back to him.
Once back in London, Bruce settles back into the shape shifter community, intent on reclaiming his life as a man and making Wren his wife. When the captain falls ill and dies, Wren is captured by a lynch mob and held prisoner by a small town of superstitious country folk on charges of witchcraft, though witch trials are a thing of the past. Bruce gathers every available London shape shifter and goes in search of the woman he loves. Will the heart of the lion, the very heart that binds them together be strong enough to free her before she’s burned at the stake?
Bruce fell asleep, hidden between two hefty crates near the northern deck, where the shadows grew longer and blacker. He even managed to steal a loaf of bread and some ale. The first time in ages since he had eaten something other than raw meat. The alcohol quickly took effect, lulling him into a deep sleep, but something roused him, something delicate and enticing.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with thick thumbs. The black night sky was scattered with millions of twinkling stars. He sniffed and then smiled. The woman was near. Her scent wafted through the sea air like honeysuckle dancing on the wind. She stood overlooking the bow of the ship. Her skirt whipped around her dainty ankles. She was barefoot. Never had Bruce known a naked pair of feet to look so erotic. A deep throated growl emanated from within. He shook his head in an effort to yield the wild creature within. Luckily the wind masked the noise. Rising and stretching, he made his way to her side, stomping across deck to alert her of his coming. He didn’t want to startle her and cause her to cry out. She turned when she heard him approach, greeting him with a half smile, her lips curved on one side.
“Good evening, sir,” she said, turning to face him fully.
His eye caught the gleam of a topaz pendant, nestled between her full breasts. His cock stiffened at the sight, pushing against his newly acquired breeches. Breeches that suited his size perfectly, until now. He took her hand and kissed it. The scent of her burnished skin drove him mad with desire. He shut his eyes.
“Out for another smoke, sir?”
“Aye. I couldn’t sleep. Are you feeling better today, miss?”
“A bit. Thanks to you for inquiring,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Father is in a tizzy. All the fuss about the caged beast never setting sail with us.”
Bruce smiled. A sweaty lock of his long, blond hair fluttered against his sun burnt forehead. He worked on deck all day, pretending to be a crewmate. He even helped repair a torn sail. No one had been the wiser.
Bruce grunted. “Don’t see how a beast that size could be carried off without notice. Sounds an oddity for certain.”
“Father says the slaves must have taken him back off the ship the night before we set sail.”
“Does he really think they went to all that trouble and then carried an empty cage back on board?”
“Aye, sir. A lion will fetch a pretty price. He’d make a fine attraction at the fair, bringing in loads of money. The slaves most likely took him back to their master while the cat was still full of sleeping potion. There was never no need to carry back an empty cage. Now the master can sell him for whatever price he wants. According to Father, they tracked that particular beast for weeks before catching him.”
Bruce doubted that. He’d have sensed the men or at least caught a whiff of their scent. He’d been taken totally by surprise. “Seems particularly cruel to me,” he added.
“Aye. To me too, sir. Reminds me of my mother. She’s no different from the lion. She’s been captured, bought and sold again. Cruel, indeed.”
Wren looked up at him, seemingly noticing him for the first time. “Why did you say you were in Africa?”
Bruce cleared his throat. “I didn’t.” He could think of nothing other than the slave trade and then the perfect answer came to him like a flash of lightning. “I’m with the House of Lords.”
Wren wrinkled her nose. “A solicitor? Surely you jest, sir. You look nothing of the sort.”
Bruce was insulted. “I don’t look smart enough?”
“You seem highly intelligent, sir. It’s just that . . .”
Bruce cut her off. “What then?”
Even with her dark coloring, Bruce saw her blush.
“You just seem altogether too much man for such a job. You’re so virile. You seem more suited for the outdoors. I find it altogether impossible to picture you seated behind a desk, scribbling down law onto paper.”
She fancies me, then?
Bruce stuck his chest out. So, the lady found him attractive, handsome perhaps. This he could go with.
“I’ll have you know, miss, I am an astute member of Parliament. There’s much talk of abolishing slavery. I’ve come to investigate the matter further and take my vantage point back to my fellow solicitors.” When he’d lived in London, there had been much debate on the issue.
Wren nodded. “Forgive me, sir. I didn’t intend to insult you.”
“You’re forgiven. It was an honest mistake and besides, what man doesn’t like to be considered virile by a woman such as yourself?”
Wren dipped her head into the shadow of his looming chest. He was afraid he had embarrassed her or perhaps she didn’t believe him. With one finger, he tipped her chin up. “You think I only flatter you?”
Wren frowned. “My father is a terrible man. What is it you want to know? I care not for his love. He cares not for mine.”
Bruce stared at her before speaking. She was so lovely, so honest. It made his heart ache to see her living with such a man. “I know enough of your father, Wren.” He watched her face in the moonlight, sensing her distrust. “I want to know you.”
Wren smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “Why? I am only the captain’s blackamoor.”
Bruce touched her cheek with the back of his hand and shook his head. “No, Wren. You are the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen. I’m quite smitten with you.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t come out here for a smoke?”
Bruce laughed. “You would be correct.”
“You came to see me? To speak with me?”
He nodded. “Aye. I fancy your company.”
Bruce nodded again. He took one of her hands, holding it between both of his. Closing his eyes he sighed.
“Perhaps you’ve been in Africa too long.”
He grunted. “Much too long.” His eyes snapped open. “May I kiss you?”
Wren’s mouth fell open. He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off hers, beseeching her. Wren smiled. “You may.” She closed her eyes and waited.
Bruce watched her heavily lashed lids flutter shut. He sensed a small amount of fear. He could smell it, but she wasn’t frightened of him. It wasn’t adrenaline he caught a whiff of in the night wind. It was pure lust. Unhinged, full frontal arousal from a woman of her quality. His cock poked and throbbed against his stiff breeches as his hands took possession of her face. She gasped. Her eye lids fluttered open and then shut again. Her lips parted. He moved closer, feeling her sweet breath on his wet lips, drying them with her heat. He kissed her. The sensation rocked him, spiraling down into his belly and into his legs, making every hair stand on end. His tongue probed her delicate mouth. She moaned softly, opening for him. She stuck her tiny tongue into his mouth, unleashing a growl. She yelped against him.
He pulled her to him, molding his mouth to hers, slanting their kiss, sucking on her tongue. She moaned deeper, bewitching him with seductive, slow kisses that heated him from within, sending shivers along his neck and spine. Bruce groaned when she moved closer to him, molding her body to his. He felt the pulsing beneath his breeches. Bruce steadied himself. It’d been forever since he’d seduced a woman. He’d half forgotten. Instinct told him to turn her around and enter her from behind. It took all his powers, from both gene pools to reign the beast that yearned to buck the beauty he held in his arms. He really intended to kiss her only once. He had no idea she’d feel this glorious, this soft, this needy. Bruce shook. He wanted to shift but didn’t know why. He certainly couldn’t bed her while in cat form.
She palmed his chest, fingering the tiny buttons of his shirt. She found his nipples and rubbed them with the heels of her hand. Bruce sucked in a heated breath. She pinched them. He pushed her hands aside and yanked the shirt open. She dragged her mouth away from his, trailing kisses across his jaw, down his neck, past the pulse throbbing in his throat.
She tongued his nipples. He watched her. Watched as her pink tongue flicked and licked at the swollen nubs. Goose bumps rose on his chest. His cock swelled when she bit him and suckled with a hunger he had forgotten existed. She moaned softly as if she were enjoying her delicacy. He clutched her silken hair and pulled her face to his, kissing her fiercely, his tongue diving, tasting. Their teeth clinked when he slanted his mouth to hers, wanting more closeness, more togetherness with a woman he’d only met one day before. Blinding lust rushed through his veins, blacking out all reason.
The wind picked up. The sails above them flapped in the breeze while salty waves slapped over the deck, spraying them, cooling their heated skin. Bruce swept her off her feet and pulled her onto his lap where he positioned himself over a large crate covered by a tattered sail. Her ass perched atop him. He unleashed a growl before burying his face in her cleavage. The jewel embedded between her breasts was hot against his lips as he nibbled and sucked around it. Wren arched her back, tossing her head into the wind, letting it blow her tresses behind her.
Bruce freed her breasts. Full, dark mounds filled his hands and mouth as he took one nipple in his mouth, sucking fiercely. Wren cried out, her passionate song mingled with the howling wind. A tall wave leapt over the side of the boat, soaking them both. Wren screamed in surprise and then laughed out loud. Bruce only growled at the sight of the half naked, wet lady in his arms.
He pushed her to the edge of his lap, unlaced his breeches and pulled her back to him. A mischievous grin curled around her delicate face, awash with passion and desperate need. Bruce’s heart went out to her. He lifted her skirts, grabbed her waist and lowered her onto him in one swift move. Wren gasped. Another wave of water tumbled over them as he sliced into her again and again. She molded herself to him, humming, licking her lips. Bruce loved the way his cock fit into her, so snug, so tight and so bold. She rode him while the ship rocked and swayed, a beautiful melody of wood creaking, waves splashing and Bruce grunting. She wrapped her legs around him tighter, gripping the mast that he leaned upon. With her arms over her head he had full access to her wet, heavy, swaying breasts as they slapped at his chest and face, only making him drive into her with more passion, more force than he thought was possible.
He felt the first tremors of release cinch around his swollen cock. Two more thrusts into her velvety smoothness and he’d lost himself, spilling into her his seed, his unleashed desire and his loyalty. Wren’s body rocked just as his began to still. She cried out into the night. He held her closer as the glorious spasms of quenched passion shot through her. Her necklace slapped his cheek as she rode him to the highest point of her release and then she collapsed onto him. Long, dark tendrils clung to her face and breasts. He peeled them off one by one as her breathing returned to normal. She sighed as he kissed her shoulder and pulled her to him. Even the ship found calmer waters as they clung to one another, two strangers no more.
Hi! My name is Tierney O'Malley, contemporary and paranormal romance author from the beautiful Pacific Northwest. My publishers are Cobblestone Press, Museitup Publishing, eXtasy Books, and Silver Publishing. I'm excited to join this blog and hope to share you fun and meaningful posts. :D Click here or go to my website http://tierneyomalley.com to learn more about my books or contact me. I would love to hear from you.
My name is Mark Alders. I live in a house. This house has a street in front of it which is a good thing because if it didn't I wouldn't be able to drive down to the shop and purchase the chocolate I need on a daily basis *giggle* Seriously, I am a mild mannered post office worker by day and an erotic romance writer (mainly male/male) at night. Not much else to say other than, like everyone else, I have bills to pay, a mortgage and family that I love and drive me crazy all at the same time. Oh, and I have a dog, too! See? Average Joe...execpet when I get down and write...then I let my imagination go to places I never knew existed and my characters invade my mind.
I have an Associates Degree in Nursing and work as a traveling nurse. Although, I miss my family and friends back in Missouri, I enjoy meeting new people and love to travel. Of course, I wouldn’t go anywhere without my wonderful daughter and two rotten dogs. Writing has always been a part of my life, but for many years, I thought it was only a hobby. Finally learning that I couldn’t live without writing my beloved stories, I decided to see where it would take me. Who knows where my next adventure will be? Either in nursing or writing, I will continue to look for new and fun places to explore.
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