Countdown to Christmas: 20 more sleeps...

The Cowgirl's Christmas
by Patricia Bates

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A sexy cowboy to unwrap…what more could a girl want?

For Holly Walker Christmas is about more than just flashing lights, it's about having some sexy time with her husband. This year, however, she's got a secret that could destroy everything…or save their future.

Content Warning: explicit sex

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About the author...

Patricia Bates

Reading has been such a large part of my life. I cut my literary teeth on such author’s as Louis L’Amour, Nora Roberts and Janet Dailey. For me it wasn’t such a jump from reading the wonderful tales these author’s spun to imagining my own.

Soon I was writing poetry, short stories and by junior high I’d written my first full length romance novel. Since then I’ve taken my love of history and my passion for writing and combined them into what I hope will continue to prove a successful career.

With six books contracted, four of which are currently available in print. All are available in electronic format with the last two ebooks due for a release in May and the other in the summer. I’m currently working on three projects, an erotic paranormal romance featuring a witch who lovesChristmas, another Ancient Ireland novel, rich in the history of the Irish Celtic peoples, and plotting out a Cowboy Series tentatively titled “The James Gang”.

Of course I’ve got a lot more on the go. I’m developing and growing my editing company with some amazing authors, working on getting the books that Blade had revamped to fit the submission guidelines for some other publishers and keeping up on my writing and being a full time mom, working outside of the house…its amazing what I can manage in a 16 hour day.

You can follow Patricia at:

Website     Blog    Facebook

Excerpt...

Hundreds of flickering lights skipped against a black backdrop like diamonds on velvet. Holly hit the turn signal and pulled off the nearly deserted highway. The car purred along the merge lane before gliding into the busy city traffic. She slowed down to a crawl and stared at the brightly lit storefronts and the strings of lights that hung from bare trees lining the streets.

The massive, decorated spruce that stood atop the hotel where she'd made reservations drew a giggle. It seemed fitting that the hotel would appear to be a gift. The holiday would be well worth the wait, she thought as she parked near the entrance.

"Good evening," the woman at the desk greeted her warmly. "Happy holidays."

"Merry Christmas," Holly replied, tucking her keys into her purse. "I'm Holly Walker. Is my room ready?"

"Yes, it is. Anthony will take your luggage up." The desk clerk waved a tall, sandy-haired young man over. "Will you be attending the auction tomorrow night?"

"Of course." Holly signed the slip with a flourish, a grin on her face. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Excellent. Enjoy your stay, Ms. Walker."

"Thank you." She followed the bellhop into the elevator. Holly stood silently, her gaze steady on the elevator doors. She could feel the young man's eyes on her, and she looked down at the pale flesh on her ring finger where her wedding band usually rested. She wondered if the elegant gold band would be back in place come Christmas morning.

With her luggage secured in her room, she pressed a bill into Anthony's hand and ushered him out the door. She tossed her coat across the back of a chair and turned to study her room.

A massive mahogany bed was made up in red and green linen. Six plump pillows lined the head of it and a bathrobe lay folded on the end. She ran a hand over the garment. The soft, warm fleece of the robe tickled her fingertips as her gaze swung to the desk in the room. A large, cellophane-wrapped basket sat atop it, and two crimson roses that had been tied with some holly hung from the handle.

She toed off her boots and padded on stocking feet to investigate the offering. The sweet scent filled her nostrils as she sniffed the flowers, her hand already reaching for the card. It was a simple card, elegant and very masculine in its stark whiteness and blue print.

Merry Christmas, and welcome to the Mistletoe Charity Auction. I hope you'll find these small tokens useful. The masculine scrawl along the card curved upward to a seasonal graphic.

Holly tore into the goodies left by the hotel. A delicate flush climbed her cheeks as she pushed the cellophane away to reveal the contents of the basket. "No wonder it has dark wrapping." She whistled as she lifted out a bottle of massage oil. "Cherry flavored, hmm. Ooh, what's this?" She pulled out a slim package and turned it over. The simple silver box offered few clues to its contents. Her long nails scraped under the flap and pulled it upward. Inside lay a simple bottle. "Menthol lubricant, for that extra tingle." Holly laughed and set the bottle down next to the bed.

A quick glance at the clock revealed it was nearly seven. He must have arrived by now. Was he settled into his room, impatient for the culmination of their very own little ritual? She shifted, the bare skin of her thighs rubbing together to create a sweet, heated friction. Beneath the satin of her panties her body throbbed with a deep longing.

Desperate to hear his voice she grabbed her cellphone from the bedside table. Flipping it open, she stretched out on the bed. She slipped the fingers of her free hand between her legs to fan the flames as she punched in the familiar numbers. She listened to the musical tone of the ringer.

"Hello, you've reached Tyson. I can't come to the phone. Leave your name and number, and I'll be sure to call you back."

Holly trailed a finger down her throat as she listened to the rich twang in his baritone. At the beep she inhaled.

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Countdown to Christmas: 21 more sleeps...

Vanilla-Free Christmas anthology
featuring Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan

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This Christmas, the best gifts are waiting for those who have been naughty…

And the toys under the tree are not for children. Sexy Santas, naughty elves, and dominant shifters are ready to spread some very kinky Christmas cheer. It’s a good thing the ladies in our stories are looking for anything but vanilla.

Be Warned: ménage sex, anal sex, sex toys, BDSM, spanking

~ 9 Author Kink Anthology~

Santa's Beard
by Doris O'Connor

When Santa strokes his beard wishes are granted - apparently. Joanna is not convinced, but when she wakes up on Christmas morning to find her cats have magically morphed into two naked and dominant men, she doesn't know what to think anymore. All she can do is ride the waves of sensation, as all her kinky desires come true. Can fantasy stand up in reality, or was it all just a dream?

Secrets Santa
by Raven McAllan

When Marian hears voices at the office party she thinks she is losing the plot. The incredibly sexy Santa who hands out the presents is another surprise. Does she follow the instructions that come with the presents?

After having been left alone for years with only videos to guide her, can she trust her heart and truly submit. Will it be, Oh no, Santa, or Yes, Sir? 

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Be a winner today...

Keep your eyes peeled over the coming days to find out more about our two featured authors from today's featured Christmas anthology, Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan.

Vanilla-Free Christmas is just one of the books up for grabs in the bumper prize bundle, but you could also walk away with a copy today. Just comment below and tell us your favourite Christmas treat to be in with a chance of winning.

The winner will chosen at random and announced tomorrow so remember to subscribe to comments, or come back tomorrow to see if it was your lucky day.

Excerpt from Santa's Beard...

Joanna stretched and moaned softly. Christmas Day already? She couldn't even remember getting to bed last night, but clearly she must have done. She was not lying face down on her lumpy couch anymore, where she was pretty sure she had passed out sometime on Christmas Eve, having drunk the entire bottle of wine by herself. She distinctly remembered Ben's feline stare and Bill licking her ear, and then things had gotten crazy.

Joanna groaned, recalling the strange dream that had followed. Yes, crazy cat lady, that was her, for in her dream, Ben's stare had changed into the disapproving and unblinking gaze of a drop dead gorgeous, muscled hunk of a man. Her pussy had clenched, and she'd whimpered her need into the shoulder of another man. Slightly smaller and leaner than his counterpart, he'd nonetheless made short work of picking her up. The room had swayed and Joanna had held on to impossibly broad shoulders, curling her fingers into the man's flexing biceps as her stomach had rolled and her head pounded. She had screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in the man's broad chest, desperately trying not to bring up the contents of her stomach.

"Relax." The deep voice of the man carrying her had rumbled through her, and another hand had massaged her shoulders.

"Caid is right. Relax, let us take care of you for a change, sweet Joanna."

Even in her dream, Joanna thought how odd this conversation was, but she wasn't about to argue with the commanding tone that made her toes curl under. Had she not been feeling so wretched that voice alone would have been enough to make her want to jump his bones.

Instead she had snuggled into the two male, warm bodies cocooning her and had slept peacefully all night. Now that was a first, too. Usually Joanna battled with insomnia, but not last night. Like a warm, soothing blanket, her men had surrounded her, much like Bill and Ben always did. Now there was a thought. Usually the two felines would have demanded their breakfast by now. Instead the mouthwatering aroma of brewing coffee permeated her senses at the same time as the prodding hardness against her ass cheeks registered for what it was.

What the fuck?

Her eyes flew open, and she would have dashed off the bed, had the man whose rock hard cock was digging into her crack not chosen that moment to use his considerable body strength to pull her back, roll her over, and pin her to the bed. He caught her flailing wrists with one large hand and held them still above her head. Her long haired captor ground his hips into the juncture of her thighs and pinned her with a stare so intense, her pussy instantly flooded with the evidence of her arousal. His emerald eyes narrowed and he smiled—a slow, dangerous, smile—that made her heart miss a beat before it tried to hammer itself out of her chest.

"Lie still, sweet Joanna. You've earned yourself enough punishment as it is."

Good God. It was the voice from her dream. A voice so full of authority and leashed passion, Joanna's breath hitched and excitement spread through her veins like wildfire.

"P … punishment? What for?"

"Hmm, let's see." The stranger, whose eyes held her captive with their familiar arrogance, smiled and pressed his erection into her mound. "Does this feel as though it ought to be castrated? And I won't even mention the fucking tags."

His annoyed growl vibrated through her and her eyes widened, when she took a proper look at him. It couldn't be. Yet, there, right above her was the unmistakable evidence. Her captor was missing his right arm—just like Ben.

"Ease up, Aran, you're scaring our woman. We need to explain this. Then we can paddle that sweet ass of hers and give her the fucking she deserves."

"Paddle … deserve?" Joanna was all too aware that she sounded like a dimwitted parrot, but when one was staring at a drop dead gorgeous human version of one's cat—and this one had a scar just like Bill—surely a woman was allowed to sound like a feathered idiot.

"You're my cats. You're Bill and Ben." That statement came out as a high-pitched squeak, and both men growled.

"Another ten swats to the tally for those ridiculous names, and we're not just cats."

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Excerpt from Secrets Santa...

"So, it's present giving time," Santa said. "Have you all been good?"

The resultant roar of  "Yes, Santa," made Marian smile. It seemed they were all big kids at heart.

"Then when I call your name out you can come and get your presents. One from the tree and one from me."

 The strains of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" rang around the room, and people began to sing along. Marian rolled her eyes. One silly little song, and everyone was all pally-pally, petty jealousies forgotten. As she watched her P.A. cuddle up to Sean from Accounts she stifled a grin. Sean was the next best thing to a piranha. However, Connie was no slouch in the elbow in the groin department. A sudden grunt from him and a grin from Connie confirmed it.

Whilst she had been watching the byplay, Santa had been calling various people up to the stage. The guys had shaken his hand, and the girls all sat on his lap and gave him a kiss. There was a photographer close by to record everyone opening his or her Santa present. Santa had emphasized the tree presents had to wait until Christmas day.

Marian laughed along with the rest of her colleagues as the various presents were opened and displayed. They were all silly little things. A stapler, a musical keyring, an ice scraper, and a coffee mug were all duly unwrapped and displayed.

Santa delved into his sack. "Marian Pearson, come on down." As her colleagues clapped and whistled, just like they had for all the others, Marian swallowed hard and began to walk to the front of the room. Her body was on fire, and she was sure her juices were running down her leg and staining her skirt. Why did those words no longer sound like the silly tag line of an old TV show and more like a demand?

As if it was a dream, with her head held high and clit throbbing, she walked between her co-workers and climbed the stage to stand in front of Santa. If he thought she was going to sit on his lap, he had another think coming. Whoever he was.

His grin was just visible from under the big bushy false beard. "Have you been a good girl, Marian?" His voice rumbled and vibrated through her. To her relief he didn't pat his lap and Marian didn't dare take more than one brief look there. His cock was pushing at the material like an excited flagpole. She hoped he hadn't been like that for all the women.

"Only you," he said in a low voice, which would not be overheard. "Only you." He rummaged in the Santa sack and pulled out a long thin box. "Here is your Santa present, Marian. Open it and show your colleagues."

 She took it obediently and tore the paper. She couldn't remember him using that authoritarian tone with anyone else. Her clit did its dancing act as he spoke.

Seriously, woman, get a grip. You'll be rolling over and asking for your tummy to be rubbed if you're not careful.

"Or your cunt to be spanked. Believe me, love, you don't need to ask, that's a given."

You what? Marian rubbed her ear. Surely she hadn't heard what she thought she had. No one was going to spank her anywhere, let alone there.

As the last of the wrapping paper fell away, she goggled. Inside were two long rulers. Santa's last words came back to her, and she bit her lip to stop herself moaning. Spank her with these? Surely not? Though the movie running through her head sent sharp darts of excitement into her as the scene flashed through her mind.

Behind her, none of her fellow workers saw anything amiss. Most of the presents had been work oriented. It didn't take Santa's low words to reinforce that.

"Especially for you, love, twice the pain, four times the pleasure. You'll see." He raised his voice.

"Why don't you kneel down and reach for your tree present, Marian. Don't forget, you must take it home and put it under the Christmas tree until Christmas day."

She looked up at him suspiciously. The words seemed innocuous enough, but she wasn't so sure. However, the determined look in his eye had her panties more than damp once more, and she nodded. "Yes, S…" She stopped, appalled at herself. His eyes twinkled, and she would swear he was trying not to laugh. "Yes, Santa." She improvised, aghast at what nearly slipped out.

She knelt in front of him to pick up the parcel with her name on it. As she did so, he spoke once more. His low sensual voice set shivers down her spine and into her pussy.

"And that position, my dear, is how you should be whenever we meet. Remember, red, orange, and green."

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Countdown to Christmas: 22 more sleeps...

Mistletoe and the Lost Stiletto
by Liz Fielding

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Chasing his Christmas Cinderella! Lucy Bright can’t believe it when she’s plucked from secretarial obscurity and transformed into the pampered fiancée of a slick retail guru. But then she discovers it was all a publicity stunt! Rushing away from the media frenzy, she bumps – literally – into delicious tycoon Nathaniel Hart…

Spooked by their instantaneous chemistry, Lucy flees – but Nathaniel is determined to find his barefoot beauty. Though all he has is one very expensive red designer stiletto to help him!

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Meet the Author...

(c) Mills and Boon

I've been reading since I was knee-high to a gnat. My mother taught me, the way she taught me all the good things in life. She read to me when I was little and then she bought me books of my own. Little Women, What Katy Did and Anne of Green Gables. I read them all until the covers fell off.

The only thing that is better than reading, is writing. Bringing to life characters that you love so much that finishing the book, leaving them to get on with their lives without you, is the hardest thing.

Released 20 years ago this month!

I started writing when my children were small and my engineer husband, John, was working abroad. We'd met working in Africa and had travelled the world together before settling down to raise our family.

My first romance, An Image of You, HR # 141, was set in Kenya, in a place I knew well, and was plucked from the slush pile because the feisty feminist heroine made my editor laugh. Emotion touched with humor has been the hallmark of my books ever since.

You can find Liz at:

Website     Blog

Facebook     Twitter     Goodreads

Excerpt...

Lucy’s shoulder hurt where she’d charged the emergency exit, setting off a barrage of alarms that lent wind to her heels as she raced down the narrow, darkening streets behind the hotel.

She had no idea where she was heading, only that there were men on her heels, all of them wanting her, all of them with their own agendas.  But she was done with being used.

‘Aaargh!’  She let out a wail of fury as her heel caught and snapped in a grating, bringing her up with a painful jerk.  Someone yelled behind her, closing fast and she paused only long enough to kick her foot free of the grating, leaving the shoe behind, and race on, casting around desperately for a cruising cab.  But there was never one when you were desperate! 

Idiot, idiot, idiot… 

The words hammered in her head in time to the jar of her feet on the freezing wet pavement as she ran, dot-and-carry-one lopsidedly on one heel. 

She’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.  Make that the second biggest.  She’d made the first when she’d fallen into the fairytale trap. 

In retrospect she could see that calling her erstwhile Prince Charming a liar and cheat in front of the nation’s assembled press pack had not been her brightest move.  But what was a girl to do when her magic castle-in-the-air had just turned into one of those blow up bouncy things they had at kids parties?

Stop and think?

Stand back, line up her allies before firing her ammunition from a safe distance?  Hardly the action of the girl Rupert had proclaimed to love for her spontaneity, her passion.

That was the difference between them. 

The woman who’d appeared on the cover of Celebrity wasn’t some figment of a PR man’s imagination.  She was real.  Capable of feeling not just joy but pain.  Which was why she’d leapt in with both feet, puncturing the fake castle with the 4 inch heels of her Louboutins, letting out the hot air and bringing it down around her.

Idiot was right but who, having just discovered that she was the victim of the most cynical, manipulative, emotional fraud imaginable, would be thinking rationally?

As for allies, there was no one she could turn to.    The press had already bought everyone who’d known her since she was a baby – anyone who had a photograph or a story to tell.  Every moment of her life was now public property and what they didn’t know they’d made up. 

And Rupert owned the rest. 

All those people who had fawned over her, pretended to be her friend, there wasn’t one she could trust.  Be sure was genuine rather than someone on his PR company’s payroll.

As for her mother…

She had no one and, run as hard as she might, nowhere to go.  Her legs were buckling beneath her, lungs straining, as she headed instinctively for the sparkle of Christmas lights, crowds of shoppers in which to lose herself, but she couldn’t stop. 

In moments her pursuers would be on her and she didn’t need the dropping temperature, the huge white flakes that had begun to swirl from a leaden sky, to send a shiver up her spine.  Then, as she rounded a corner seeking the safety of the crowds of Christmas shoppers, she saw the soaring asymmetrical glass pyramid of Hastings & Hart, lighting up the winter gloom like a beacon.   

She’d been in the store just the day before on a mission from Rupert to choose luscious Christmas gifts for his staff.  Giving the gossip mag photographers who followed her everywhere their photo opportunities.  It was all there in the files. 

The plan to keep her fully occupied.  Too busy to think.

The store seemed to mock her now and yet inside were nine warm and welcoming floors, each offering a hundred places to hide.  Within its walls she would be off the street, safe for a while, and she flew across the street, dodging through the snarled up traffic, heading towards the main entrance, slithering to a halt as she saw the doorman guarding the entrance.

Only yesterday he’d tipped his top hat to her in deference to her chauffeur-driven status. 

He wouldn’t be so impressed by her arrival today, but dishevelled and limping, he would certainly remember her and, pulling her coat tidily around her and shouldering her bag, she teetered precariously on her bare toe as she slowed down to saunter past him, doing her best to look as if she was out for a little shopping.

‘You’ll find footwear on the ground floor, ma’am,’ he said, face absolutely straight, as he opened the door.  And tipped his hat.

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Countdown to Christmas: 23 more sleeps...

Twas the Night Before Christmas
by Eva Scott

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During her Christmas Eve performance, part time Burlesque dancer Miss Ginger Snap looks out into the crowd to see her first and only love, Clay Roberts. The man who broke her heart and betrayed her. The man who caused her to flee her home town to Sydney and never look back.  Desperate to avoid him, she makes a mad dash for the last train back to her home town in time for Christmas.

For Clay time stands still as he recognises the dancer. He’s certain it’s Jessica King. She ran out on him at their high school graduation and he’s been searching for her ever since. After missing her train, Clay convinces Jessica to travel home with him.

Can Clay convince his one true love to give him the opportunity to atone and a second chance? Can Jess risk being hurt again by the man she loved?

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More about Eva Scott:  http://www.evascottromance.com/

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Excerpt...

Miss Ginger Snap presented a vision of retro loveliness. Her auburn hair swept down over one eye in a seductive wave like a fifties Hollywood starlet. He froze, every inch of his body on alert as she sashayed across the stage. Her figure reminded him of the shape of a flamenco guitar, with her long legs and luscious hips, all curves a man just itched to get his hands on.

He watched, spellbound, as she let her evening gown slip from her shoulders, spinning around to slowly release the zipper at the back. She shot the audience a saucy wink and, with a wiggle perfectly timed to the music, allowed the dress to fall to the floor.

Stepping daintily out of it to reveal nothing more than a merry widow corset and a suspender belt, she sent Clay’s pulse through the roof. His empty glass slipped through his fingers unnoticed to bang down hard on the table. Something about this girl rang a bell deep within his memory; something about the way she moved seemed so familiar to him. He racked his brain but he couldn’t put a finger on it, not with the rest of his body busy staging a revolt.

Slowly she unfastened one stocking and peeled it off, spun it around and threw it into the audience, followed by the other, turning to reveal a pert bottom encased in deliciously frilly knickers. His body leapt in response. His imagination worked overtime imagining what delights lay beneath her scanty lingerie.

Obliging his unspoken wishes, she unclasped her corset to reveal her toned stomach, inspiring a vision of him kissing every inch of her soft velvety skin, his lips exploring her secret places. He groaned involuntarily as she threw the corset away with an impossibly elegant flick of her wrist, performing a little shimmy in her bra and knickers, and blowing the audience a kiss. Clay stood as still as stone for fear someone might notice his burgeoning reaction to the vision on stage.

His heart threatened to stop when she removed her bra only to reveal a little sparkly bandeau beneath, just barely preserving her modesty. As she danced around the enormous candy cane prop in the middle of the stage she shimmied and wiggled out of her frilly knickers, exposing the smallest sparkly g-string he’d ever seen. She took his breath away. He hadn’t felt this overheated since high school! And then, right at that moment, she looked directly at him and winked. The blood rushed from his face to pool in his feet, the erection he’d been hiding disappeared in an instant. He did know Miss Ginger Snap. How could he have missed the obvious? It was Jessica! His Jessica.

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Countdown to Christmas: 24 more sleeps...

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I am very excited to launch my Countdown to Christmas blog event - although I admit I am cutting it a bit close to get it launched on the first of the month!

Anyway, to help get you in the Christmas spirit, I will be featuring a different Christmas-themed book every day, right through from the 1st of December until Christmas Eve so remember to keep popping back to see what's on offer.

Why?

Well, you see... it wouldn't really be Christmas is there were no presents, would it now? And the bigger the better really!

So, seeing as it's Christmas, I am offering a monster giveaway that even Santa would be proud of. Many of the books featured over the coming days will be added to a bumper prize bundle, and one lucky winner - maybe even you - will be walking away with the lot! (As of this moment, there are nine books in the bundle with more expected!)

All of the details, including the terms and conditions as well as a nifty little advent calendar(!) can be found on my website. You can enter the giveaway contest there, but for ease, I have also created a tab here on my blog with an entry form.

Without further ado - the clock is ticking! - I am delighted to kick off proceedings by featuring my own Christmas title by other alter-ego. Christmas is Cancelled is my debut as an author, both as Allie and Aurelia, so I am very excited and cannot wait for it to be released on December 21st to share it with you. This is also the first title added to the bumper prize bundle.

Christmas is Cancelled
by Aurelia B Rowl

Pre-Order Now

As soon as Christmas is Cancelled is available for pre-order, you will be among the first to know.

All of the books featured over the coming weeks will have buy links, but I have also created an aStore on Amazon, both UK a Store and US aStore, to make buying any of these titles even easier.

I hope to see you here again tomorrow, albeit at a much more reasonable time! Whoops!!

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Blog guest: Wendy Steele

Today sees off the start of what I hope will be regular guest spots on my blog - and with places filled until January, it's looking promising. With a combination of interviews, book features, and guest posts, I'm sure there will be something for everybody to enjoy.

Kicking things off on this crisp December morning is Wendy Steele, and seeing as I like to write following the three act structure, it seemed like a good idea to treat my interviews in the same manner. And we've all heard of 'twenty questions'.

So, without further ado, I'd like to offer a warm welcome to Wendy. And don't worry about the weather, she'll soon have you warmed up, just check out her special birthday celebration offer!

ACT ONE – all about you…

1) Have you always been a writer or is it something you fell into?

My first piece was a poem aged 10, after visiting the Tutankhamen exhibition in London and, ever since, I've come home from new adventures and committed my thoughts and experiences to paper. My first piece of published (and paid!) writing was an article for the Dancing Times, after attending my first day of belly dance workshops in London, eight years ago. After attending Swanwick Writer's Summer School, I launched my career as a writer with the release of Destiny of Angels

2) Do you have a particular writing style or ritual?

I like to wake up, make a cup of tea...and write! That's a perfect day for me. My characters write my books. I know them very well and when they get together, the story flows.

3) Is there a book or an author that has influenced you in your writing?

Having a brother seven years my senior, I was surrounded by books as a child and read Brave New World, The Hobbit, Animal Farm...anything I could get my hands on! I used to walk to the library every Saturday morning and select my three books, read them in a week and be back again for more!

This year, I've been introduced to many new Indie authors and am enjoying trying new books but the author who has influenced me most at this point is Terry Pratchett. He is the master storyteller and when I want to relax and be stroked with perfect words and phrases, his are the books I turn to.

4) Can you tell us three things about yourself that we probably don’t already know?

Oooo tricky one! I learned to read music at the age of four when I learned to read words. I drive a green Subaru Forester. I'm already a lady who wears purple!

5) What five luxury items or gadgets would you hate to be without?

I think mobile phones are a brilliant invention....though I use mine for calls, texts and photos only! My laptop (bought second hand from my daughter) is my most valuable tool at the moment as I launch my writing career.

Hot water on tap is a luxury as I love an aromatherapy bath. My car, as already mentioned, is 'an oldie but goodie', fabulous in all weather and always starts first time. Dance thongs...they protect my feet when I'm spinning and help me grip so I wobble less!

6) The festive season is looming large, do you have a particular Christmas tradition that you like to indulge in? And what about New Year’s resolutions, will you be joining in the madness for 2013?

We visit the Remus Horse Sanctuary around 12th December when they hold a carol concert in the barn with the animals. We take gifts, carrots, cat food, jar of 5ps we've saved, bin liners, cold meats and sing along to a rickety old electric organ while the donkeys and dogs join in. When my children were small, this was the beginning of the festive season as we would come home and put up the tree.

We celebrate as a family at Yule now....and do it all again for the 'olds' on the 25th!

I've never been into NY resolutions...if you want to do something...do it now!

ACT TWO – all about your new release…

7) I gather you have not one, but two new releases to tell us about?

I'm launching my first non-fiction title Wendy Woo's Year – A Pocketful of Smiles – 101 ideas for a happy year and a happy you. It's a book that does exactly what it says in the title! It's packed full of ideas that I have used, or still do, to bring a smile to every day. Too Hot for Angels is a little book of six extended, sexier scenes from Destiny of Angels. Following feedback from readers, I felt this was a fun accompaniment to the Lilith Trilogy and I shall be bringing out a similar one when I launch the second book Wrath of Angels.

8) Did the stories flow from your finger tips or did some scenes take a bit of cajoling?

Most of the scenes in THFA are between Angel and Aidan and these were easy to write as they are a loving, sexy couple. I loved writing Smiles, being able to share with my readers those things that have brought happiness to my own life.

9) How long did it take for the initial spark of the story to make it onto the page and then onto the publisher’s desk?

I wrote A Pocketful of Smiles in four months as I waited for my house to sell....it still hasn't sold! Too Hot For Angels was written the moment I had the idea...I just couldn't wait to get the words onto the paper.

10) Do you have a favourite paragraph or sentence from each title that you would like to tantalize us with?

Too Hot for Angels

Fire leapt around them as they rolled around the floor and the white light around Aidan expanded until it filled the room. He felt his muscles bulking and his strength growing as he took the object of his desire and played with her like a rag doll until she screamed. His energy flooded her whole being, pouring from him like a swollen river until the storm subsided. Sated, Aidan's power diminished, the light surrounding him weakening until he rolled off Angel onto his back, panting and licking his lips.

Wendy Woo's Year – A Pocketful of Smiles – 101 ideas for a happy year and a happy you

16. Be a child again

Either alone or with friends, light a yellow candle (or white if that is what you have to hand) and take your mind back to happy, child hood memories.

One of my favourites is crabbing on the beach with my Dad. Balancing from rock to rock, we'd journey to a land of tiny islands. Once they surrounded us, we'd dip into the rock pools between, carefully turning the stones to find the crabs beneath. My Dad was an expert. He'd talk to the crabs as they emerged and he knew how to pick them up gently. Soon, other children from the beach would join us and he became the crab man, encouraging everyone to handle them carefully, study them, talk to them, take them to show their parents in their buckets but then return them to a suitable pool. I can see my Dad in his beach sandals and shorts, smell the breeze from the sea and feel the slimy seaweed beneath my feet.

Immerse yourself in childhood bliss.

Now, go be a child. Climb a tree, make a den, have a pillow fight or dance for the fun of it. Watch a favourite children's film. Enjoy the sense of fun of being a child again.

11) Over to you, what can you tell us about these books to make us rush out and buy it?

As a celebration of my fiftieth birthday, you can download all five of my books for free from 1st - 5th December. I would love for as many people as possible to download my books and explore my writing, both fiction and non-fiction. (Pssst... scroll down for buy links!)

12) What can we expect from you next? Is there something you are working on right now?

I'm writing the second book in the Lilith Trilogy, Wrath of Angels and will be focussing on this as my writing project for next year. I'm also putting together three non-fiction books for the future, A Bucketful of Moonbeams, Here comes the sun and Wendy Woo's Tummy Friendly Cook book.

QUICK FIRE ROUND – it’s pop quiz time…

13) Plotter or pantser?

I have an idea, I start writing!

14) Secret Seven or Famous Five? (please tell me you know them!?)

Famous Five

15) Digital books or print books?

I love paper books! However, I can also see the benefits and worth of digital and I've been dropping hints at home that a kindle would very much be appreciated for my birthday! The publishing industry is moving forward as the music industry did before it and I believe it is important to encourage everyone to read, whatever device they choose to use.

16) Tea or coffee?

Rooibos or green tea

17) Cats or dogs?

Cats...we have Tiggy, Olly and Rowan now after our beloved Merlin went to the Summerlands this year.

18) Extrovert or introvert?

I am an introvert but trying to embrace some extrovert qualities to raise my profile as a writer.

19) Save or spend?

Save

20) Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook...just can't get my head around twitter. I've only been online since March 2012 but I've met and made friends with some lovely people on Facebook. 

Thank you ever so much for taking part Wendy. Many happy returns for your birthday and I wish you continued success with your endeavours.

Don't forget, you can download ALL FIVE of Wendy's books between 1st - 5th December as part of her birthday celebrations. As promised, here are the links...

Buy from my Amazon aStores
UK (Amazon) or US (Amazon)

You can keep up with Wendy via her blog as well as her author pages on both Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.

If you would like to be a guest,
please CLICK HERE...

The 'Next Big Thing' blog tour

It would appear my writing "friends" - hmm! - are ganging up on me as I have been tagged by both Téa Cooper AND Zara Stoneley to take part in the 'Next Big Thing' blog tour. The idea is to copy the questions and apply them my own Work in Progress, then pass the baton over to three other authors.

Seeing as 'Allie' only ever gets to play when the heat level is too hot for 'Aurelia', there isn't really a lot happening on the new projects front. Especially with me being tied up with NaNoWriMo this month, as well as organising blog guests. At one point, I did consider writing my current work in progress, Bye Bye, Black Sheep, as Allie but I'm now ninety-percent sure it will be one for Aurelia.

I also have a very vague idea for another short story for a specific anthology being pulled together a group of in-house BP authors, but the story isn't far enough along to be able to offer any information. Instead, I shall talk about the story which is right now going through the acquisition process with Breathless Press...

• What is the title of my current work in progress?

The story is called For One Night Only and it will be featured in 'Serviced Anthology: VOL 1' with nine other stories next Spring.

• Where did the idea come from for the book?

I saw an urgent call-out for submissions by my editor, on hehalf of Breathless Press, requesting shorter stories of heat level 3 or above to feature in their Serviced anthology. Basically, it needed to involve either the military or the likes of police/paramedic/fireman etc in some way shape or form. Although the required heat level was well outside my 'comfort zone', I saw it as a good excuse to challenge myself and see if I could get over my writing hang-ups so I decided to give it a go.

• What genre does your book fall under?

Either spicy contemporary romance or I may even go so far as to describe it as erotic romance.

• What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Umm... this is where I confess I'm not really up on my actors.

I watch very little television - unless it's sports or children's TV - and don't tend to get to the cinema ever since the kids came along. So, I'm sorry, but I haven't got a clue. To be honest, I don't even have a mental picture of the characters in my head either, which is most unlike me.

• What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

Kate Powell broke her own rules and fell for a soldier about to be posted abroad for a year, but then seven months in, a text arrives and she learns Corporal Mark Butler is back in the country for one night only and she isn't about to let the opportunity pass her by...

• Is your book self-published or represented by an agency?

It is in the process of being contracted by Breathless Press.

• How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

I'm not even sure I should admit this... I actually knocked it out in just three evenings - pretty much - and thanks to my inner editor, the first draft was also the final draft bar a couple of minor tweaks.

• What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Umm... I really do need a special clueless icon for these questions. 

Nothing I've read that I can recall but I guess it can be compared to other male/female contemporary military-themed romances, such as those which will appear in the anthology alongside For One Night Only, as well as anthologies available from other publishers, like Secret Cravings.

• Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Another one I maybe shouldn't admit to! What's with these questions, am I not allowed any secrets?

Okay... For One Night Only is very - and I mean VERY! - loosely based on a personal experience. Many years ago, I was dating a soldier who was posted overseas. One Saturday night, I got a call out of the blue inviting me to join him in London to go to an all-night rave (yes, it really was that long ago). I jumped on the next train and met him at Waterloo Station before making our way to a nightclub called Bagleys, which isn't even there anymore, to dance the night away. But that is where the similarity ends! Oh, except for the killer high heels, but I don't remember being offered any piggy-backs. Hmm...

• What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

See my last comment! 

With the story being based on a real-life experience, I can now imagine my friends and followers wondering exactly which bits are real, and which are pure fiction.

Oh, and my Editor told me she loves the vibrator scene. (Can I stop blushing yet?)


And there we have it. It's been fun sharing a little insight into my debut story writing as Allie. If all goes to plan, 'Serviced Anthology: VOL 1' should be available from Breathless Press from March 8th 2013. It will feature nine other stories, ranging from historical to present day, written by some incredible authors.

In order to see what some of my writer friends are doing, I’m going to tag Millie Romano, Ali Hunter and Incy Black. Let's see what you've got ;-)