Coming Monday, October 20th...

A little bit spooky...a lot hot and sexy...

Ride the Night Winds

Hunter's Moon 

I love the full moons at the end of every year...the big old full moons that hang in the sky like pumpkins, looking all red and orange and spooky. One of my favorites of all time happened in October of 2010, when this story was written. September's Harvest Moon was glorious, but the huge one that showed up on October 23rd was by far the best...the Hunter's Moon.

It got me thinking of all the things that went bump in the night, and this story was born.

Do you get the urge to write when you see a natural, marvelous phenomenon? I do, but unfortunately, like this story, they come a bit too late to catch the mood of the moment, and have to wait awhile.

Originally, this was a simple spooky story, but you know me...it just didn't seem right until it migrated over into erotic romance with a HEA. Sigh. It just seemed...tame, for some reason. It is the story of two lonely people...Theresa who has lost everyone dear to her, and Gareth, who lives in a world where people don't...touch. And he desperately wants to...touch.

Excerpt copyright 2014 Fran Lee

Ride the Night Winds

He leaned in and put his lips close to her ear. “And you are so very sure this is just a dream?”

She could feel his warmth through the sheer silken material as he leaned so close, she thought she would melt. His breath fanned the hairs at her temple. She shivered pleasurably. Her insides puddled like melted wax.

“What else can it be? This sure as hell isn't Bullock. And you sure as hell aren't Clarence Sommers. Bullock isn't big enough for me not to know about someone who looks like you. The whole town would know about someone who looked like you. Every female in Bullock would be drooling and hot to grope you. So how can you be real?”

Gareth had never had a human speak so openly with him. And it was enough to make him as hard as hell without even half trying.  He reached out and cupped her cheek with one hand, and saw the look of shock on her face. “Can a dream touch you? Can a dream do this?”

Her mouth was utterly succulent. His body and mind were hopelessly engulfed by a raging fire he was going to be hard-pressed to put out.  He felt her lips open beneath his, and he delved his tongue into her mouth, as her own stroked his hungrily. He heard a strangled moan emerge from her throat, and then he felt her hands on his bare skin, sliding experimentally over his chest and back as she lost control and kissed him back with a passion he would never have believed! He wanted to be inside her so badly, he ached.

And she was as eager as he.

His body gave in to the heated pressure of her mouth. The loud pounding of her human heart. The desire and sweetly delicious arousal that sifted from her lush body inside the gossamer robe she wore. His cock grew impossibly harder with each passing moment of her sensual touch as she followed every contour and ridge of his body with those soft hands. And he was as ready and eager as she to continue the experiment.

The woman was so intent on taking the opportunity to molest what she thought was her dream man, she didn't realize that he was now beginning to molest her. It was when his hand slipped between her legs and cupped her soft, wet pussy that she seemed to sense that he was far too solid and real-feeling to be just a dream. But only when he pressed a long, lean finger deep into her trembling cunt to stroke her so very intimately, did she give a little gasp of surprise and scramble away, landing on hands and knees on the floor after tumbling sideways from the invisible sofa she had been sitting on.

“Whaa? I know you shouldn't be able to do that in a dream! No way! You were supposed to just disappear right then!” Her eyes widened in horror. “I've never had a man be able to actually touch me there in any dream I've ever had!”

Go check this one out at only 99¢! 

Fran Lee

http://www.franleeromance.com

Giving Praise Where It Is Most Definitely Due

Wow, this is a post I never thought I'd have cause to make~

Get ready cause here comes my heartfelt thanks to FEMA!! 

For our readers not in the Untied States, FEMA stands for Federal Emergency Management Agency and is part of our federal government. They are in charge of disaster relief. In recent years, FEMA has gotten a very bad reputation for alleged mishandling and slow responsiveness. 

On August 11, 2014 three counties in southeastern Michigan experienced catastrophic flooding. My home was in the epicenter in our area. My city came out of the gate with, "Not our problem, don't pester us, our building was flooded too, we have no money." Our wonderful governor blamed the cities and counties for not doing what they needed to do so that he could maybe, think about possibly applying for federal disaster relief. He was however able to find time to do photo ops for the news stations of carrying a piece of garbage out of a couple of lucky senior citizen's homes. It is an election year after all.

On Thursday September 25th, President Obama approved FEMA relief for our area. 

On Friday September 26th, those affected could begin registering with FEMA. 

On Sunday September 27th, I registered with FEMA.

On Tuesday September 30th,FEMA contacted me. 

On Wednesday October 1st, a FEMA representative was in my home at 10:00 am. 

On Thursday October 2nd, FEMA advised me as to the initial relief amount approved and that the payment had been processed. The extremely kind and helpful representative then explained exactly what I have to do next in the process.

I could not be more surprised, impressed and grateful! 

Have a great weekend~

Tessie

www.tessiebradford.com

Facebook:  tessie.bradford.1

Favorite October Halloween Movies

October is my favorite month because I love the cozy, transitional feeling of autumn and knowing the year is coming to a close with a flurry of great holidays. I love Halloween and really love watching all my favorite Halloween movie classics with my family. This year we started a little early and got the Halloween movie season rolling in September.

We watch Kim Novak and Jimmy Stewart in “Bell, Book and Candle” every year. I love it, especially the clothes Kim wears when she’s a gorgeous witch. I covet her witch wardrobe.

My son, who is fourteen, loves the Hugh Jackman version of “Van Helsing” because it’s a monster mash. Every famous monster is in it. It’s a movie theme park of monsters and nothing is taken seriously. I’m not at all opposed to watching Hugh turn into a wolf or stand around a Transylvanian castle nearly naked… Rent this movie. Do it for the kids. 

A great ghost story that is psychology charged and creepy is Debra Kerr’s “The Innocents”. Ask three different people what they think happened at the end of the movie and you’ll hear three completely different answers. It’s a very interesting film and one of my husband's favorites.

The Vampire movies are the jewel in the crown. I absolutely love Frances Ford Coppola’s “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” The look of the movie is amazing and the original film score written by Wojciech Kilar and Carmen Coppola is stunning. Does Keanu Reeves belong here? Of course not, but he’s handsome to look at in Victorian clothing that I don't complain. The scene between Gary Oldham and Winona Ryder in the absinthe parlor is one of my favorite movie visuals. The brides of Dracula is another. A lush and gory treat.

I love the “Underworld” series. It’s bloody and extremely violent but I love the stylishness, the art deco look of the Vampire mansion, the visual contrast of inky blue shadows and crimson blood, the dramatic flashbacks, the cars, the boots, the snug leather outfits everything! Bring it on. Give me more. Luckily there are three movies in this series but the first is the best.

I saved my absolute favorites for last because they’re so close to my heart:

 The House of Hammer, Christopher Lee Dracula classics. I love them and remember watching them as a child on the odd UHF channels late at night. When you consider the tiny budgets these movies were made on and the moral atmosphere of the day, these are damn daring movies and they’re still great.

Recently my husband and I rediscovered BBC “Being Human”, which originally played from 2008-2013 in the UK and later on BBC America. We missed this monster mash of a gem the first-time round. It’s the story of a vampire, werewolf and a ghost who become housemates, friends and eventually beloveds, while trying to hang on to the best parts of their personalities that were human. It’s gory, funny, but can also get very brooding and dark. Aidan Turner as a charming, but troubled 117-year-old Irish vampire is a highlight.

This is a partial list of the movies we’ve already enjoyed this season. I’d love to hear about a few of your favorites.

Who is planning on seeing "Dracula Untold" when it releases in theaters next week?

XXOO Kat

Would you meet a duke on a cold afternoon for a ride in his carriage? Excerpt of RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE by Cerise DeLand!

http://amzn.to/1tGU26K

What would you do for a bit of pleasure amid a poor, lonely, loveless existence?

  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?

Need a nibble?

Of course you do!

Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand/WJ Power All Rights Reserved.

“Your Grace?”

Hugh whirled to face his coachman, the wind biting into his hope that Anna would venture out to meet him on such a bitter day.

“Yes, Warren. What is it?”

The man huddled in his woolen livery, frozen, rubbing his hands together. “We hired the man’s hack for two hours. But the horses are very cold standing as they are, Your Grace. Can I not make a circle of the garden to stir their blood a bit?”

“Yes, do.” He could not keep his good servant out in such hideous weather. That was unkind. Unnecessary.

He stared down the lane again, narrowing his eyes.

She was…

There! Coming toward him. It was she in that horrible brown hat and coat.

He strode toward her. Then broke into a jog.  His hat bobbed and he whipped it off, tucked it under his arm. “Anna!”

She broke into a smile, beaming at him, her pace quickening, her lips tremulous with what? Cold? Fear? Delight?

He caught her to him. The thrilling feel of her, her curves to his form, her warmth to his welcome. His lips went to the corner of her eye, the point of her nose and hovered over her lips.

“You waited,” she breathed, her words laced with panic, her golden gaze flowing over him with triumph.

“I did. I had to hope.”

She cupped his jaw. “I apologize for being late. I could not get away.”

“But you came. How?”

“A hack. And then, I left him at the bridge and walked.”

Hugh enveloped her in his arms. “There is no one here to see you or me. It’s too damn cold.”

She chuckled, her arms wrapping around his waist as easily as if she belonged to him and he to her. She trained her eyes on his breastplate and ribbons. “But you wore a uniform.”

“I did. As you commanded.” He turned to one side and wove her arm through his. “Come, let me get you into a carriage.”

“Oh, no.” She hung back. “I cannot. Really, Kendal.”

“You’re frozen. So am I. And there beyond,” he said nodding toward Warren who stood with the hack door open, “is my coachman. I hired a vehicle. Did not bring my own.”

“You have crests on yours, I suppose,” she said, sounding tentative but walking briskly with him anyway.

“Yes, they all do. I would not chance discovery.”

“I do appreciate that.”

They stopped in front of the hack’s open door.

Hugh took both her gloved hands, her fingers cold as icicles. “Few seem to be in the Gardens. I’ll take you if wish. Or you can step into my conveyance, hired especially for this afternoon, and warm yourself with the bricks and the brandy I have tucked inside.”

Her eyes, alive with yearning, examined his. Still she hesitated. “I don’t want to walk.”

He understood her tentative tone, an objection to the privacy of his coach. “I would never hurt you. If you will do me the honor to climb up in there, we might have an hour or more of good conversation.”

“And brandy,” she added with a twinkle in her brilliant eyes.

“And bricks.”

“I want to.”

“Do.”

She swallowed, then smiled at Warren with a hint of apology.

Hugh told her, “You can sit in one corner and I in the opposite seat.”

Acceptance defined her exquisite features. “And here I had imagined us sitting side by side as we did at dinner last night.”

If he had envisioned himself as a cave man seizing her, enjoying her, it was nothing to the urge now to grasp her in his arms and take her lips, her heart, her mind and make them his. Reason, somehow, arrested him instead. “Sit wherever you like, my darling. I live to make you smile.”

She flowed up to him. Her gloved hands cupping his jaw, she rose on her toes and brushed her lips on his.

My god.

She undid him. All his noble intentions gone. His earnest statements that he would protect her from his baser urges now hollow.  Still, he could not move, paralyzed with wanting more of her.

“You must climb in first,” she told him, an impish glimmer in her eyes. “The better to give me a choice.”

He grunted, incapable of words. Then he did as she bade him. Falling back against the far corner of the wooden bench, he shoved his shako to the floor. He watched her as she put one foot upon the block and let Warren take her hand to lead her up inside. And there before him, she met his gaze and waited as Warren shut the coach door. She seemed cast in bronze, unmoving, studying him. Then putting one knee to his bench, she leaned over him, descending to a breath away. “Kiss me, won’t you, Kendal? I’ve dreamed of no one but you for months.”

 Rendezvous with a Duke

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iTunes Coming Soon!

Coming soon...

Coming in October...

Available for pre-order 10/6/2014

Terry Winters is alone. Her father died three months before her birth. Her mother followed, dying in childbirth. The grandmother that raised her and taught her everything about life died two years ago. She has lived in the small town of Bullock her entire life. She lives a boring life in a town that has...secrets. And things are about to change...

Blurb copyright Fran Lee 2014

Ride the Night Winds

Hunter's Moon

It was a dark and stormy night...

And Teresa was unhappy as hell about having to take that twenty-block walk home alone in the icy storm with the full moon obscured by black clouds and no friend to keep her distracted. She wasn't superstitious. But the thought of climbing that hill and passing the Old Bullock Cemetery in the dark wasn't something she relished. She wasn't afraid to walk alone...but she truly hated the dark. Things went bump in the dark, and weird shit happened on the full moon in Bullock.

She wasn't worried about getting mugged, because ghosts didn't mug you. And ghosts were about the only things hanging out in the old cemetery in Bullock these days. There hadn't been a major crime in the sleepy little town in over fifty years. Spooky urban legends abounded, but the only bad guys in Bullock now were buried six feet under in the damp earth of the Old Cemetery.

About the only thing she feared at this point was that cracked, broken sidewalk she had to traverse...and maybe freezing to death when the storm came on full force.

She shivered as a hound howled a soulful lament to the hidden moon...

I always wanted to start a book with that corny phrase...and this was the perfect chance. :) I pulled this novella out of my old horror stash, and steamed it up a bit.  The perfect setting for an October full moon read.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, writing it.

Hugs,

Fran Lee

http://www.franleeromance.com

How Small Could You Go?

Have you watched Tiny House Nation on the FYI channel? I caught it by mistake one day and now I'm kind of hooked. The ingenuity used to maximize the tiny spaces is so creative, and the floor plans and configurations are wildly unique. Many of the houses I've seen showcased are 300 square feet or less with more than one person residing in them!

This picture is from www.tinyhousedesign.com. Cute, right? But could you actually live in one of these for any measurable amount of time without going stir crazy? What if you're in a part of the world that has winter or a rainy season or blazing hot summers? My gut tells me that feeling housebound would take on a whole new meaning.

Look at this happy young couple. They've combined tiny house living with being in the middle of nowhere. Probably oodles of fun when the relationship is all new, fresh and filled with wild lovin' but we all know that doesn't last forever! :)

  

Oh come on now, let's be serious. This just says "divorce inevitable" to me! And I'm sorry, those kids already look miserable and they're not even teenagers yet. 

This picture is taken from a sleeping loft which is the size of a double, possibly a queen mattress. The space is beautiful and well organized. And any time one thing is out of place you're going to notice it and probably trip over it. 

I'm all for living frugally and understand the importance of being kind to the planet but I can't see this working for more than a tiny part of the population. That's actually one of the most entertaining parts of the show - how the hosts demonstrate to the potential dwellers the reality of the space. In one episode they tied a married couple together with a rope the length of the amount of movement they'd have in their new house. The expression on the woman's face was priceless!!

Have a great weekend~
Tessie
www.tessiebradford.com
Facebook: tessie.bradford.1

Natasha Blackthorne's "Perilous Risk"

My guest today is the fabulous Natasha Blackthorne who writes the sexiest Regency romance imaginable! If the stunning cover doesn't convince you that Perilous Risk would be the perfect autumn read check out the excerpt.

Excerpt from

Perilous Risk

Regency Risks, Book Three

By Natasha Blackthorne

She opened her mouth to deny him.

He brought his mouth down on hers, cutting off her protest. He thrust into her mouth, the taste of his hot, wet tongue more fiery than the best whisky. She shook, not with fear but with anticipation for the next stroke of his tongue against hers.

It came and delicious shudders quaked through her. Another stroke and another. Ruthlessly, he gripped her head and angled it, thrusting deeper. Taking her breath. Sucking her very soul and taking everything.

She didn’t care.

Every inch of his long, lean body pressed hers. She could feel the whipcord strength of his powerful muscles. Could feel his trembling as though he were holding back his ardour. His erection throbbed against her stomach, huge and hard. Heated.

A feeling of letting go, as though a tremendous weight had suddenly lifted from her. As though she’d been waiting forever for this moment. Tenderness burst within her. Her limbs went weak. Her fists unfurled and she grasped his shoulders, learning his feel, breathing in his scent, glorying in his taste, his strength, his forcefulness.

Stephen.

Her Stephen.

If she could, she would simply melt into him. She clung desperately to his hard body, surrendering herself wholly.

He tore his mouth from hers.

She cried out in protest.

He swept her up into his arms then lowered her. Her backside touched the table and the rickety wooden frame groaned and creaked.

He swooped down on her then gripped her chin in his large hand, gently yet firmly holding her in place. His eyes bore into hers, predatory, determined. “Now, tell me that you don’t know me.”

 Perilous Risk coming Friday Oct 3, 2014!

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O3L70KU

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00O3L70KU

 

Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00O3L70KU

 

Follow Natasha and the tour on Facebook www.facebook.com/natasha.blackthorne