Saturday, September 27, 2014

It's been raining here all day...

Meet Dune...
He's the youngest of my three shifter brothers in Their Alpha Bitch. Hot, and so sexy...impulsive and loves to get Kenna alone. That's not always easy to do, since his elder brother, Mace is her alpha mate.

Meet Mace...
Mace is second in command of the shifter pack...
But he was the first to claim Kenna, and she chose him as her "first". But his elder brother, Gant, accepted Kenna's choice, and took it like a true leader.

Meet Gant...
The true alpha of the Dumont pack...

Gant was blind-sided by his younger sibling when Mace asked Kenna to choose him as her First. The alpha triad of the pack may choose the female...but the female gets to choose which mate has her favor...kewl, huh?

I, personally, would find it terribly difficult to choose one out of these three hot, sexy males. But Mace has had Kenna in his heart and mind for many years, and when his elder brother didn't jump right in and ask for that honor, he wasn't one to let grass grow under his size 12's. 

I am running a special over on my FB page right now.  Buy a copy of Their Alpha Bitch, send me a copy of the purchase e-mail, and I will send you a free copy of any one of my back-list e-books that you choose.  Not a bad deal, seeing how my other books cost nearly twice what this one costs.

Go check it out if you have not bought this one, and if you don't have my back list.  Now's your chance to get a freebie from Fran Lee. 


Fran Lee

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Hmmm, What Theme To Choose?

Yes I know I'm early, but the recent crisp Fall weather days have me thinking about an extremely important decision which must be made soon - 

Will my Halloween decorations be scary or cute??

 I have a good supply of both themes for indoor and outdoor decorating and I always add a few new items each year. My quandary is that I've bought two additions so far; bloody crime tape and a comical front door hanging thing of a purple mesh skirt with black and white striped legs and purple witch shoes! Very conflicting don't ya think??

Wait, maybe that's my theme - Halloween chaos!!! Why can't tombstones and oozing zombies coexist with smiling pumpkins and happy skeletons? 

Check out these pictures of perfectly staged and themed Halloween rooms. Wouldn't it be cool to combine them? Might not the ultimate effect be truly terrifying?!

Do you decorate for Halloween? If so, do you go creepy or funsy? 

Have a great weekend~
Facebook: tessie.bradford.1

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Selena Illyria's "Bewitching The Vampire"

Today I want to welcome a sweet friend and talented author Selena Illyria to Seven Sexy Scribes. Selena has the honor this week of kicking-off my favorite time of the year--the Halloween season. She has the perfect book to warm a cool autumn night. Here's a taste of Selena's latest treat from Etopia Press.
PS. Don't you love the man on this cover. Yum.

Witch vs a Vampire king…who will win on Halloween?

Bridget is a witch who has been given a sweet deal—nab a rogue vampire and score a big payday, but she must deliver him within twenty-four hours. She’ll need help from Joe, the local vampire liege, to find the rogue vampire fast. Joe agrees to give her the information...if she agrees to play a few hands of poker with him. For each hand, she must reveal a bit about herself. And for each hand she wins, he'll answer any question she asks. But Bridget isn’t sure she can keep things objective—not when Joe gives her that seductive grin.

Joe has always had an interest in the little witch. She defies his expectations and surprises at every turn. But despite his natural inclination to help her, he decides to make her work for the information she needs in the most delicious ways. With a little bit of seduction and a little bit of bondage, he tests her resolve to play the game…and tests his own self-control to contain the blood beast inside him. The stakes are sky-high, for both of them. But on Halloween, the most powerful night of the year, which one will be the winner?

Buy Links

Etopia Press:


Barnes and Noble



Want a little taste? Here's the sizzling hot 18+ Excerpt:

“Joe, we can’t.” Her voice trembled. She hated how weak she sounded. She’d walked in here all business…and now? Her knees wanted to give out, her breasts ached for his touch, her pussy wanted him to fuck her like there was no tomorrow. The insistent throb of her clit only made things worse. 
“Why? Because you’re a witch and I’m a vampire? Or is it because you know once you have a taste of me you won’t be able to walk away? Good, because I have no intention of ever letting you go.” His face moved closer and his eyelids dropped until all she could see of his eyes were thin slits of inky blackness. “Mine, Bridget.” 
He sealed his words with a soft kiss, the warm press of metal against her lips adding a slight edge of pain to the sweetness of the contact. A muffled moan formed in her throat. She clenched her hand until her nails bit into her palm. He tightened his hold on her wrist and brought her arm up until it was pressed next to her head. He released her hair, grabbed her free hand, and moved that up too. She arched her chest, pushing her breasts out, hoping to feel the solidity of his chest against hers. Her hips thrust forward, searching for the feel of his pelvis. He kept his body apart from hers as he nibbled at her lips, scraping his fangs against hers, bringing blood to the surface and increasing the flesh’s sensitivity. He sucked, kissed, and tugged on her plump bottom lip before switching to the top and showing it the same kind of attention. 
Whimpers and animalistic moans came from the back of her throat. Joe responded with groans and growls. His tongue slipped past her lips to tangle with hers, gliding and sliding, fucking the warm carven of her mouth. 
“Joe,” she moaned. He pulled away only to duck his head once more to sip and glide his lips against hers. He stole quick kisses, followed by long, drawn-out ones. In between he treated her to the teasing pain of the tips of his fangs and hard solidity of his piercings. 
“Mine,” he growled as he traced a path of fire and stinging pain along her jaw and down her neck.
He stopped. His mouth hovered over her pulse point. Time held it’s breath. She wondered if he was going to bite her. Would she be able to handle it if he did? What would happen if he drank her blood? What would a vampire on witch’s blood be like? Would it kill him, her, or both of them?

"Bewitching The Vampire" Selena Illyria. 

Buy Links:

Etopia Press:


Barnes and Noble



Monday, September 22, 2014

My new #Regency full-length #Regency Romp #2, RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE, out now! Come to FB party Thursday!

Regency Romp #2
I debut RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE today at most sites!  This full length Regency stars a Cinderella and a prince of a guy, Hugh Lattimer, Duke of Kendal.
Ready for the blurb?
 Anna Fournier never intended to fall in love. Not with any man. Especially not a duke. But Hugh Lattimer persists in courting her despite the scandal that surrounds her—and the innuendo that could ruin him.
     Can she escape her past and embrace a future as Hugh's duchess? Or will the man who murdered her father ruin her future once and for all?
Ready for that nibble of Cerise’s new cherry?
Of course!
Here is Hugh Lattimer, Duke of Kendal as he meets Anna for the first time.
Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.
Hugh Lattimer closed the door of the piano shop, sighing in relief at the warmth. He’d spent the last five years freezing his bits to nubbins in every damn parlor and palace from Vienna to Paris to London and he was sick of the deprivation. Nearly three decades of war on the Continent had leveled more than the forests. It had destroyed men’s daily lives and reduced them to rats huddled together in the rubble of their existences. He had seen it firsthand on the torn battlefields, in the shambles of the towns—and in the hearts of men, women and children high-born and low.
He unbuttoned his greatcoat and looked around for the proprietor.
In the far room, he heard murmurs of a conversation and then spied the owner of the establishment. “Ah, there you are. Guten morgen. Good morning, Herr Breyer. How are you this cold day?”
“Your Grace.” The pudgy shopkeeper beamed at him and inclined his head in greeting. “I am well. And you, sir?”
“Quite well.” In the far room, someone at the keys filled the air with a melody new and refreshing.
“I am happy to see you again. May I take your coat? Have my frau make you tea?”
Nein, Herr Breyer. Danke shon. I will not stay long. But came to make my decision.” Here twice last week to examine the pianofortes, he had been torn between one of Viennese manufacture and another completed in Munich. The Viennese had been hand tooled by a man whom Hugh had come to know socially when he had been posted to the Austrian capital after Napoleon’s surrender. The Munich piano though interested him for its larger keyboard. The tune emanating from the far room had him pausing to listen. “Who is that at the keys?”
“A young lady has come to buy sheet music for her cousin. The song she plays is—“
“Pleyel?” Hugh named the popular composer and went quite still, struck by the facile ability of the pianist in the far room. The song she played was airy, ethereal, yet of quick tempo and complex.
Ja, Your Grace.”
The piece demanded someone who could be bold and attack the keys with alacrity, yet caress them when the mood changed. Hugh had not heard anyone play so well since he was stationed in Stuttgart and the Austrian composer Hummel had graced a consulate meeting with his newest composition. “Astonishing. She is quite accomplished.”
“She sight reads very well.” Breyer nodded, pleasure on his face. “The piece is new to her just now. And I must tell you that she plays the Stein pianoforte from Vienna, Your Grace.”
Hugh lifted his chin, listening to her with concentration. “Does she? How wonderful.”
The German rocked on the balls of his feet, clasping his hands before him, closing his eyes in contentment.
Hugh drifted toward the inner room. He moved quietly, drawn as he was by the melody that spoke of eloquent delight, a pastoral scene, perhaps, or a meeting of lovers. The woman at the piano was absorbed in her effort. Eyes upon the sheets, leaning forward now and then to ensure she read the notes correctly, she swayed in a tempo that spoke of her devotion to conquer the song.
Absorbed in her challenge, she did not notice him. Her bonnet, a brown leghorn of straw, capped her dark red curls, and the brim cut her side view. Unseen, Hugh could admire her at leisure. He reveled in her rapture as she opened her mouth on execution of one passage or wrinkled her brow at another. She ran her hands along the keys, strident or delicate, as the notes required. She cast up the lieder as it’s composer would have admired—with flair and panache. And at the end, she widened her eyes, and sat back on the stool, hands to her lap, sighing in satisfaction at her own accomplishment.
And Hugh applauded.
She startled, turned and snared him in her amber gaze.
That striking color, he had not expected. Hazel would have been his first assumption because it would complement the river of rich auburn that was her hair. Grey, even, to match the faint tones of pink on her cheeks or the blush on her lips. But the tawny was riveting.
“Sir?” She cast glances from him to Breyer.
The proprietor scurried forward, clapping himself. “Wunderbar, wunderbar. Permit me to introduce you.”
Hugh strode forward himself, ignoring the demands of etiquette. “Allow me to say how marvelous that was.” How gorgeous you are. How accomplished.
“Oh, I—I thank you, sir.” She managed to get to her feet, pushing back the stool and clasping her hands together. “I dabble—“
“On the contrary, you are a musician of talent.”
“She composes,” Herr Breyer said with as much pride as if she were his prodigy.
“Do you? How enchanting.” He stood over her now. She was taller than most women, the top of that terrifying hat reaching his chin. She was lovelier than most, too, her complexion flawless ivory and brightened by the warmth of the shop’s fire. Or was she flustered by his surreptitious observation of her?
Whatever the cause, he wanted her at ease.
“Forgive me for startling you.” He took her hand and stunned as she was, she let him. “I do not usually shock women.”
Those compelling eyes of hers melted to mellow tones, even as she sought to retrieve her hand from his. “That is good to know, sir.”
Hugh kept her hand in his. “I had told Herr Breyer long ago I wished to hear someone play this instrument who had the ability to draw out its full potential. I did not expect my wish to be fulfilled by accident nor to see such a lovely woman do me the honor.”
“Oh, sir, thank you. You are too kind.” She blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate rose.
The porcelain perfection of her skin suffused with a fair tint that inspired him to imagine her breasts budding, her body bare to him. He smiled at her, hopefully covering his magnetic attraction to her with some politesse. Certainly, her talent and her beauty belied her diminished means. She was a study in dramatic contrasts. And soldier, spy, peer of the realm that he was, he was rarely fascinated by a person. Hardly ever by a woman.
“I have heard many play,” he told her, “but few with such verve.” Or beauty. “And Herr Breyer tells me you have not seen the composition before you sat down here to play.”
“That’s true,” she admitted with a modesty that pleased him. Humility was not a quality many young women cultivated, though God knew, most should. She attempted again to pull back her hand.
Reluctantly, he let her go. “You must have had a good teacher.”
“I did, sir.” She clasped her hands together, her expression only briefly showing relief at her escape. “My mother was accomplished.”
“She must be very proud of you.” To play so well is such a rare quality among those in society. And most young women use it as a lure to secure a fine match. “I would be, were you my daughter.”
She looked him over so intricately that he was certain she meant to buy him and serve him on a platter for supper. “Sir, you are not old enough to have a daughter.”
“Old enough,” he corrected her with a grin. “But not capable.”
She blinked, shocked at his risqué inference.
He shook his head, grimacing but apologetic. “I am not married, you see.”
“Ah.” She inhaled, joining in on the joke. “I am certain that is a challenge to every young lady in London.”
He sent her a look of pain.
She laughed shortly, her mirth a vibrant match to the contralto of her speaking voice. Then she turned her attention on Breyer. “I must go, sir. I will buy this lieder and any two others you suggest.”
The shopkeeper took a step toward her, while Hugh warned himself not to stare at her. Not to scare her off. “Will you play them before you buy them?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” Her gaze flittered from Breyer to him.
He had flustered her.
Good. The feeling is mutual.
Breyer advanced toward her. “But your cousin needs a simple song.”
“She does.” She feigned a smile at the little German, but she returned to focus on Hugh—and her golden gaze lingered there in his. “But I trust your judgment, Herr Breyer.”
“Please,” Hugh pleaded, “do stay. It’s rarely that one can hear another play and enjoy it.”
Her face lit with a sudden glee that transformed her into a glittering beauty. “I not only agree with you, sir, I have suffered myself.”
“Have you?” He took her hand once more and she allowed him the pleasure of holding her in his care. Why have I never suffered with you? Why have I never seen you in the same salon? “Pity.”
“Yes,” she said on a breathless whisper that fell over his skin and seeped inside him like good Scots whisky. Her gaze locked on his until she roused herself and yanked away. But she put a hand to the piano, as if to steady herself. “I must go.”
 She firmed her mouth. “Herr Breyer, if you please, I will buy my sheet music and leave.”
“But—but your aunt and cousin await you, do they?” Breyer asked hope in his tone.
Was the German stalling her? Hugh examined the man. Of course, he was. Perceptive of him to detect my interest.
Hugh had to learn her name. Where she—
“No. I am out today on my own. But they will expect me shortly,” she told him as he disappeared into the back storage room. “You know how they are.”
Ja, Ich weiss.”
But I don’t. “May I escort you to the tea shop across the street? It is very cold outside and—“
“Thank you, sir, but no.” She strode toward the entrance to Breyer’s back room and called to him. “How much will the music cost, sir?”
Regency Romp #1
Hugh put his hand on her wrist. She was the most extraordinary creature he had met in a long time. The endless parade of women who strolled past him, whether by chance or by his mother’s plan, bored him to a raving madness. They had neither wit nor voice other than what their mamas had inculcated. The alternative, a paid companion, was not to his taste either. He’d sampled a few of those abroad and the affection endured for a fortnight or so, then turned shallow. And while he was interested in a quick relief to his manly urges now and then, the prospect of lying down in a bed with a woman he didn’t care for while standing up, did not appeal.
“Permit me to offer my carriage and to escort you home.”
Her attention drifted from his hand to his eyes. Her own gaze swam in his, and he longed to place his lips there upon her lovely lids, to allow her long red lashes to tickle his lips, to allow her perfect skin to rest beneath his mouth.
“Thank you,” she murmured, that deep voice of hers brushing his senses. “I mustn’t.”
“Why not?” He heard himself. His voice was a plea, a prayer.
Beneath his fingertips, she suffered a frisson. Worse, she looked desperate. “I should not take up with a gentleman.”
He had never frightened a woman before. Chastened, he tried to soothe her with a lopsided grin. “I doubt you take up with men who are less than that.”
She stiffened. “I take up with none at all.”

KOBO  Coming within days!
iTunes   Coming soon!


Find Cerise:
Cerise's website:
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Follow me on Twitter: @cerisedeland
Goodreads: Cerise DeLand

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Special Sunday Post!

This is a blog wakeup call...

No one blogs here on Sundays, but I wanted to find out how many of our blog followers are awake and listen up, kiddies...

The next 10 people who comment on this post will win a free copy of my latest shifter book, Their Alpha Bitch!  The catch is, you must post a comment before midnight, Monday, September 22, 2014! In your comment, you MUST include your name, e-mail address, and you must tell me how often you read our blog. Easy!

This is a test of the Seven Sexy Scribes broadcast system. 


Fran Lee

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Just a "heads-up" to our blog followers...

If you have clicked on "follow us" on a blog...

it's very important to show the bloggers you are following that you appreciate their efforts to entertain, inform, and otherwise share stuff with you, their audience. We have 132 followers on this blog...yet maybe two or three of those who actually do the blogging bother to comment on our posts.  That makes it impossible for us to tell if anyone is actually reading our posts...what our followers want to see on our blog...and how many of you are actually enjoying the posts.

Now, we do post new releases, excerpts, and book-related stuff on this blog, and perhaps some of you get tired of constant promo...but you need to share that with us.  We want you to enjoy dropping in.  

If you like our blog, please comment.  Sometimes it helps keep our creative juices flowing...and we love hearing from our readers and fans.


Fran Lee

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Following Fran's Lead

On Saturday, Fran Lee discussed the usefulness of blogging and Facebook as promo tools. It really got me thinking and obviously spurred me on to write a blog post myself - Thanks, Fran, I've been at a loss for subject matter for weeks.

I always worry about what to post here on 7SS, the only blog I'm on. Should it mostly be about author stuff? How often is too often to promo my books? Would readers enjoy hearing more about me, things going on in my world, what's on my mind in general? This uncertainty more times than not leads to me not posting at all!

I know that I don't Facebook "correctly". I don't post comments very often. I've just started clicking 'like'. My posts on my own page are sporadic; announcing when I have a release or sharing someone else's good news of a publishing nature but I do this on purpose. My comfort level is to keep my Tessie Bradford page focused on author business.

Over the last couple of months, I've been making an effort to check Facebook on a more regular basis and participate more. I've joined a few private groups that I'm greatly enjoying. I'm checking friend's pages and in doing so, discovering other posts and pages I want to visit. Ahh, the perfect lead in....

Can we ever truly know which specific things we do are succeeding when it comes to promoting our books?? I don't think so but being a presence on the internet feels as if it is a must even if it is on a limited basis. If I've bought books because of following links aren't others doing the same? Look at how obscure posts go viral and voila, a life is changed forever.  

Have a great weekend!
Facebook: tessie.bradford.1

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Tina Donahue's "Wicked Takeover"


by Tina Donahue

Buy Links:


Available September 19


She’s just inherited a tattoo parlor…and the hunk who comes with it.

Lauren’s in a helluva mess. Not only has she lost her corporate job, her long-absent father just left her a struggling tattoo parlor along with the virile dude who runs it. Dante’s sinfully hot with a killer smile and inked biceps. Lauren’s full-figured, sorta pretty and wanting him badly. Dream on. She’s here to sell the place as quickly as possible for some much-needed cash.
Dante sees the heat in Lauren’s eyes despite her conservative appearance. He recognizes the dynamite woman she could be if she’d just loosen up and have some wicked fun. Dominance and submission. Making love in a public place. Having her lush body always accessible to and ready for his.
Carnal games that seduce them until lust turns to surprising need and friendship to something deeper that might just change their futures.

Here's a little taste:

Excerpt #2:

Longing, and something else, played across her sweet features. His shaft stiffened in response. His balls began to hurt. When she didn’t say anything, Dante wasn’t certain he should. She might shut down and take off. At last, he murmured, “What?”
Lauren sucked her lower lip.
Adorable didn’t begin to describe how she looked. He wondered if she was going to ask him out. If that’s what Jasmina had been alluding to. Dante smiled inwardly at the thought.
Lauren cleared her throat. “I…” She didn’t continue.
Feeling playful, he smiled. “You what?”
“Don’t know how to say this,” she mumbled.
Her uncertainty shifted something within Dante. He had an overwhelming urge to protect Lauren, hold her close, tell her everything would be all right. Hell, he was onboard with whatever she wanted. Not that his sentimental feelings made him any less mischievous. “Want me to help?”
Lauren gave him an odd look then frowned.
He hadn’t expected that. Usually he was damn good at reading women. Not tonight. “Just say what you want to say,” he coaxed then softened his voice even more. “I’ll listen.”
She looked doubtful.
“Come on.” He smiled.
Her attention moved to his mouth. Color stained her cheeks and throat. She swallowed then blurted, “I don’t want you dating any of our customers.”
It was a moment before Dante understood what she’d said. His grin felt stupid. He killed it. “Excuse me?”
Lauren backed away then moved forward as though reconsidering her retreat. “You’re getting too friendly with the clients. The female ones,” she added quickly. “There’s too much horsing around. All that laughing and those giggles.” She rolled her eyes. “None of them are dressed. Good god, this isn’t a brothel, it’s a legitimate business.”
Her delicate nostrils flared with her harsh breathing. The ends of her hair seemed even blonder against her reddened cheeks. She parted her lips as though she had something else to tell him.
“Go on,” he said quietly.
Lauren hesitated at his mild tone then squared her shoulders. Dante doubted she knew how that thrust out her chest. If her nipples got any harder, they’d poke through her stretchy top, possibly killing him with desire.
“I don’t want a lawsuit,” she said. “So your female clients have to stay dressed.”
“While I ink them through their clothes.”
“Of course not.” She glared. “You uncover the part, and only the part, that needs to be inked.”
“What if that’s their entire body?” He murmured, “Want me to use a blindfold? On me, not them.”
Her jaw tightened. “You know what I mean. No one’s come in here yet wanting a full body tat. If a guy does, you can ink him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes with my blessing.”
“Lucky me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I own the place now, so I have to do what’s right for it.”
“And that would be?”
“What I’ve already said.” She lifted her chin. “You can’t have naked women in your station. You can’t date any of them. Ever.”
“Uh-huh.” She sounded really jealous. That encouraged Dante to move closer.
Lauren froze for a moment then stepped back. Dante followed. Surprise, and what seemed to be irrepressible yearning, passed over her face. Her ass and shoulders hit the wall. She glanced over to it then back at him.
Dante planted one hand on the wall next to her head. He leaned close enough to smell her perfume and the shampoo she’d used. Peaches, he thought. A light female scent that did indescribable things to him. “You don’t want me screwing any of the customers after hours, is that it?”
She stared at his mouth. “Uh-huh. It’s the new policy.”
“I see.” He edged a bit closer, driven to kiss her beauty mark, to run his tongue over her lips. His pulse pounded with desire. His body tensed with need. “Then who exactly would you like me to fuck?”


Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.