I will have two more print books out by the end of 2014...
Ellora's Cave has my two full length books slated to be released in print over the next few months. I don't have the exact release dates, but when I do, I will let everyone know.
Never Tempt Fate is slated first, then, much later in the year, My Sexy Sensei. It's sad that these beautiful Trade paperbacks are so darned expensive, but folks seem to enjoy having a paperback with a glossy cover in hand. Personally, I prefer to have the e-books sell well. The author gets a better royalty rate.
I have noticed in the past that when a book comes out in paperback, the readers will click on the e-book to buy because it is less costly. Have you noticed that?
Just in case you have never read Never Tempt Fate (or Dictated by Fate) here is an excerpt.
Never Tempt Fate
by Fran Lee
Copyright 2012
Tonio pressed the doorbell button a second time, glancing at his watch. He ran his hand through his dark hair and wondered if perhaps she had gotten cold feet. He was about to press it again when the door came open quickly and she stood there, wearing those ratty torn jeans and another very old, very large T-shirt. Her feet were bare and she looked as if she had just run her own hands through her unruly mop of red curls as she stepped back and gestured for him to step inside. His gut wrenched with a shot of white-hot need that almost made him reach out and drag her into his arms. No woman should have that power over a man. No woman should look so utterly edible wearing such a ridiculous outfit!
He responded to her gesture, stepping inside her apartment and glancing about at the room. The boxes were stacked along the wall, allowing room to walk. She had not unpacked. He drew a deep breath and turned to gaze at her. She stretched with an oddly catlike movement that made his mouth begin to water and rubbed her back.
“The coffee’s almost ready. Come on in here.” She led the way into her kitchen and he could not help but stare at that very attractive ass again. She seemed completely unconcerned that she might look less than attractive. No woman he knew would ever knowingly greet a man at her door dressed like that. The fact that she would look incredibly delectable wearing a damn gunny sack irritated him.
He could smell her recent shower and the scent of her perfume made his head swim. She had simply toweled her hair dry, not bothering to style it, and her face was completely innocent of makeup. A light, delicious scattering of pale freckles invited a man to run his tongue over her skin. He followed her into the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans made him draw another deep, appreciative breath. Thank God he would have something to do with his hands.
She pulled out a chair for him to sit on and turned to pour the steaming coffee into a stoneware carafe, which she carried to the table and set on the pristine cloth before him. He rose as she came back and she seemed startled that he accorded her the civility of seating her before he sank back into his chair.
Obviously she was unused to any kind of male courtesy. She had actually been astonished by his simple act of holding the fire door for her the previous day. He let his eyes move over her clear skin, over the neatly trimmed and manicured, polish-free nails, and back up to the freshly washed halo of red-gold hair that appeared to be her true color. It made him wonder what the color at the parting of her thighs would be. Her hair was still damp and clung to her cheeks in small wisps as she poured two cups of the fragrant brew, and he noted again that the baggy T-shirt was all she had on her torso—all that covered those sweetly succulent breasts.
She wore no bra. She didn’t seem to be concerned that her nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of the T-shirt, nor did she worry about the droplets of coffee that slopped onto the inexpensive linen cloth covering her table as his hand shook slightly. He shoved away the heated thoughts that invaded his mind and wiped the hot drops from his hand with the napkin she handed him.
Why he was so affected by this woman was beyond him. She was certainly no great beauty, yet she seemed to radiate something that tugged at him, even when she was out of his sight. He shook off the feeling of not being in control here. “You had questions about the agreement?” He tried very hard to keep his eyes on her face and not let them wander to her delightful nipples.
She nodded, reaching for the papers. She handed him one, with red circles around things she didn’t understand.
He noted the biggest red circle and pursed his lips. He lifted his eyes to hers and said quietly, “If the contract did not address the possibility of children being born, people would think the marriage was a sham.” And even though he had no intention of consummating his marriage, his cock had its own ideas, straining under cover of the tablecloth.
“Which it is,” she said, nodding. She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her cup and nodded at the rest of the papers. “What about those things there?”
He shrugged, struggling with his body. “Spousal gifts are simply that. If you received anything from me as a gift over the course of the marriage, it would remain yours after the marriage ends.” His eyes slid over her jewelry-free hands. “For instance, the engagement ring I have for you, any clothing or jewelry you receive from me, any property or money I choose to give you. All would remain yours after the marriage ended.”
She swallowed convulsively. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about any of that. I didn’t expect you to give me anything.” She looked distraught.
He stared at her in amazement. A woman who didn’t think about jewelry or clothes? Was she real? Was she alive? He reached into his jacket pocket, drew out a black velvet box and set it on the table beside her cup. Perhaps this would show him her true colors.
“As the wife of a wealthy man, you will be expected to possess decent clothing and jewelry for those times when you must accompany me to functions and receptions,” he murmured. “Open it and see if it fits. I may need to have it sized.” He watched her face casually and realized he was holding his breath.
She stared at the box as if it were a bug, which totally irritated him for some inexplicable reason, and when she finally got up the nerve to reach for it she did so gingerly, as if it might bite at any moment.
As she opened the box, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew large. “Oh my God. I can’t take that!” Her voice was hoarse. “It must have cost a small fortune!” She shook her head quickly and shoved the box back across the table toward him. “I wouldn’t dare wear something like that. Someone might cut off my hand to get it.”
He raised his brows as he lifted the ring from the box. He turned the ring under the light and a starburst of fire from thirty-two glittering white diamonds surrounding what was most likely the largest square-cut emerald she had ever seen nearly blinded her. “You don’t like emeralds?” he asked, lifting his eyes to her face.
“I love them—I mean—sure, I like them. But not one that big! It could be a frigging paperweight!” Her eyes were huge. “I don’t wear jewelry—at least, not that kind of jewelry,” she protested weakly as he reached across to lift her left hand and slide the exquisite ring onto her finger.
He noted that it was a good fit and he felt the trembling of her hand as she tried to pull it from his. He released her fingers slowly and watched her as she stared at the ring. In spite of her protests he sensed that she liked the ring very much.
No copying, redistribution or dissemination of the above excerpt without permission from the author.
Enjoy your weekend!
Hugs,
Fran Lee
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