Monday, August 22, 2016

Passion. Romance. Danger. Wow.

Moonlight Danger by Tina Donahue

For years, I enjoyed reading shifter romances. The passion. The danger. Wow.

However, it wasn’t until recently that I wrote my own tale, Moonlight Danger. One thing that has always fascinated me about shifters is how they fit into the so-called ‘normal’ world and also with others like themselves.

I saw an incredible amount of conflict, suspense, and romance in the concept and couldn’t wait to put my thoughts down on paper. Thus, Moonlight Danger was born.

Please enjoy the blurb, an excerpt, and teasers for my story.

Moonlight Danger book 5 - Hot Moon Rising series
Thanks to Desiree Holt for inviting me to be a launch author for her great new series Hot Moon Rising. All the books are stand alone, but involve the shifter pack in Moonlight.

My shifters are Nick and Portia. Wow, do they have a story to tell...

Alone for too long, they’ve finally found each other and home.
Now, they’ll have to fight to keep both safe.

Nick Wyatt lost his mate and vowed never to love again. The hurt’s too deep. Portia Danes knows about loss. When her parents were killed, they left her as the only shifter in their hometown. Needing to be with her own kind, she found Moonlight…and Nick.

Nick fights his longing for Portia but can’t resist, coming alive within her loving and lusty embrace.

Heated days and nights follow. Their bond grows and so do a series of strange accidents in Moonlight. Minor at first then increasing in gravity and frequency. When the pack’s suspicions ignite about Portia, Nick must defend her against an unexpected enemy or risk losing her forever.

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“Before I cook our steaks, do you mind if I cool off first?” She already sat on the ground, untying and tossing her boots aside. Her adorable socks followed. She’d painted her toenails deep red and had another flower tat on her ankle.

Nick wanted to taste it, his mouth watering.

“Can you believe it’s so hot already?” She unhooked her overalls straps and unbuttoned each side of the garment near her hips.


“It’s hot, don’t you think?”

She leaned back, wiggled out of her overalls, and tossed them aside. Her panties were a scrap of some silky material edged in pink lace. He wouldn’t have expected any other color. “Ah….”

She dropped her tank top on the denim. Her boobs filled her pink bra near to overflowing, the gentle mounds quivering with each movement and breath. Effortlessly, she glided the straps off her arms, unhooked the bra back, and lobbed the garment onto her growing clothes pile.

He stepped forward without meaning to, transfixed by her nipples, a deep rose as he’d guessed, puckered and tight, ready for a man’s mouth.

Portia didn’t flaunt her partial nudity. She appeared far more casual than he as she slipped off her panties. No wait, she’d worn a thong. His skin tingled.

She chucked the underwear on top of her bra and stood. “You must be hot, too. Want to join me? Plenty of room.”

Nick figured she’d gestured to the water, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything except the springy curls between her legs. That delicate pelt was as dark as her other hair. Her cleft and puffy lips pointed the way to paradise. At least for a little while. After that….

He should leave.

She padded to him, taking his hands. “Join me when you’re ready. We have all night. I’m not going anywhere but here.”

Three small moles circled her navel, fascinating him. A light sprinkling of freckles graced her shoulders. Although tall and athletic, she was surprisingly narrow, seeming so delicate.

She had more courage than he did, facing him with unashamed desire and patience.

Nick wanted to make a move but couldn’t quite break free from the past, telling himself he shouldn’t. He deserved to remain alone forever. She kissed his knuckles. His lids slipped down. He ached with need and resistance.

True to her word, she stayed relatively close, slipping into the water, the brief waves lapping her thighs. “Wow. Almost as good as a shower.”

She poured water over her shoulders, breasts, and belly. Her delicate curls trapped the moisture that sparkled in the remaining daylight. Soon, the heavy moon would rain its silvery light on them. If he were still here, which he wouldn’t be.

He edged closer to the bank.

After dampening her neck, she lay on her back, floating, face turned to him.

He didn’t recall taking off his work boots, socks, jeans, or tee. When he wore nothing except his stretchy boxer briefs, he considered what he was doing.

She patted the water, encouragingly. “Hop on.”


“In. Always mix those up. Come on, you need to cool off.”

With both of them in there, they’d probably bring the damn stream to a boil. Warning bells rang. Loneliness and lust won. Shutting down his misgivings, Nick peeled off his underwear. He stood above her, naked and fully aroused, letting her get her fill of the man, the beast he was.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Meet Merlin’s Descendent

By Carolyn Spear

An interview with Ian Branson, chairman of the Syndicate’s Rules and Regulations on the Lawful Use of Magick and Innate Powers and hero of Sorcerer’s Legacy, conducted by Wiccan Haus yoga instructor Trixie.

Trixie: Thank you for joining me this evening, Chairman.
Ian: Certainly. And please, after what we’ve been through, call me Ian.
Trixie: Ian. Tell us how you are related to Merlin.
Ian: Merlin is a myth. Really a compilation of several real men. One of those men was a Welsh sorcerer named Myrrdin. I am his descendent.
Trixie: Let me ask you some of the questions on the list. I think Myron wrote them. I apologize in advance.
Ian: (Chuckles) Go ahead. I reserve the right to remain silent though.
Trixie: Fair enough. (Looks at paper and rolls eyes.) Okay, Tighty whities or boxers?
Ian: Boxers. Most of the time.
Trixie: Hobbies?
Ian: Yoga for flexibility, boxing for stress release, running for cardio. Oh, and my son just took up T-ball so I guess you can add that to the list.
Trixie: Favorite position?
Ian:  I beg your pardon?
Trixie: Sorry…
Ian: It’s fine. If you’re familiar with the Kama Sutra, I find the tigress and the cross positions pleasurable for my partner.
Trixie: (blushing) Sorry, Chairman. Ian. (Rustling the paper) Just a couple more. Favorite drink?
Ian: Irish breakfast tea or a nice wine.
Trixie: Favorite food?
Ian: I love a nice beef loin, medium rare, with roasted vegetables.
Trixie: Last one, I promise. Tell me about your last trip to Wiccan Haus.
Ian: (laughs) Like you don’t remember. But since I agreed… I came to Wiccan Haus to rediscover my balance. I had some anger issues which made me unable to control my psychic abilities. Either I was on or off. On, meaning I was open to everyone’s feelings, I was bombarded by emotions. Imagine being in an empty field during a tornado. Being hit by all manner of debris. That’s what it was like. So, I closed down my powers. I came here so I could get back to normal.
Trixie: Through yoga?
Ian: The Rowans arguably have the best yoga instructor.
Trixie: Flattery will get you everywhere. Thank you and I hope you’ll visit again soon.

About the author:
Welcome to Wiccan Haus. I know you’ll love this series as much as I do. It is a world of possibilities, an escape from our daily realities. An island with shifters, witches, and all manner of paranormal beings, there’s mystery and magic around every bend, in each encounter.

I’m Carolyn Spear, mother of two sweet girls and wife of one fabulous husband. Reading, gardening and exploring are my passions. I don’t really “write” but rather channel my characters' stories to share with others. A strange combination of small town girl, travel enthusiast and geek, I am thrilled to be a part of the shared world of the Wiccan Haus.

Subscribe to her newsletter:

Sorcerer’s Legacy

Librarian Rebecca Jones has always found solace in books. The death of her grandmother leaves her alone in the world. An inherited old Welsh scroll renews her desire to find the father she never knew. She hopes fairytale Wiccan Haus will yield the answers she needs.

Descendent of the inspiration for the Merlin legend, Ian Branson lives with the responsibility of protecting humans and paranormal beings. He takes an impromptu vacation with the Rowans of Wiccan Haus, seeking healing for his out of control psychic abilities.

As soon as Ian meets Becca, he feels the pull of his soulmate. Love has no place in his life but he cannot deny the peace only she can provide. Becca finds her Welsh knight in shining armor to translate her scroll but passion tempts her from her quest to find her father.

As their relationship blooms, Ian fears putting another loved one in jeopardy. A tryst isn’t enough but Ian’s charmed solution goes awry.  With his emotions into a tailspin, he is forced to sacrifice his pride and ask the formidable eldest Rowan for help.

Will Sarka’s magic reverse the sorcerer’s spell and will Becca accept Ian’s legacy and her own? 

Sorcerer’s Legacy
Wiccan Haus Series
ISBN 978-1-61333-918-3

Friday, January 15, 2016

Character Interview with Gwen Fairfax from A Bride Worth Fighting For

Interview conducted by Cemil Rowan, co-owner and empath of the Wiccan Haus

Cemil:  Thank you for coming to chat with us today. Why do you think Sara Daniel choose you to represent her/him?

Gwen:  *laughs* I have no idea. Maybe she had amnesia about my amnesia and forgot that I can’t remember anything!

Cemil:  Tell us a little about yourself?

Gwen:  Well, I woke up in the hospital a few days ago and couldn’t remember a thing about the past ten months. Apparently, I’m engaged to this total hunk who happens to be the most perfect, sensitive, patient fiancé ever.

Cemil:  Which of the Rowans do you most connect with and why?

Gwen:  I feel like you get me, Cemil, so I hope you won’t be offended when I say I adore how Sage is always there for me. She’s like a best friend and a mother rolled into one, and she is always making me these weird colored shakes that somehow make me feel better.

Cemil:  What is your birth date?

Gwen:  Um, well, I don’t recall the exact date. Pull my driver’s license out of my purse. That should give you all my stats.

Cemil:  Why did you come to the Wiccan Haus?

Gwen:  That’s pretty obvious, even for the girl who can’t remember anything. I came to get my memory back and to fall in love with my fiancé again.

Cemil:  What do you do to relax?

Gwen:  As far as I know—sleep, sleep, and more sleep. Hopefully, I’ll discover something more exciting while I’m at the Wiccan Haus this week.

Cemil:  Tell us about Tucker. What drew you to him?

Gwen:  Of course, I don’t remember what initially drew me to him, but I can guess. He’s gorgeous in that rugged “I forgot to shave again” kind of way. He’s always solicitous and thoughtful, putting my needs before his own. He has a huge passion for the environment. When he starts talking about plant life, his eyes just light up. Between you and me, I wish he’d look at me that way some time. Oh man, I shouldn’t have said that. Please, don’t put that in the interview. I just wish I knew what he saw in me that brought us together.

Cemil:  What’s your biggest turn on? Turn off?

Gwen:  How pathetic is this? I could tell you those things about Tucker, but I don’t know them about myself yet.

Cemil:  What your favorite ice cream flavor, chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?

Gwen:  Not sure, but strawberry sounds yummy. Honestly, though, if I had my choice, I’d skip the ice cream and make a bowl of cinnamon applesauce instead.

Cemil:  Why should the readers be interested in your story?

Gwen:  If you’ve ever wished for a clean slate and to start your life over with no memory of the past, give this story a try and see how it’s working out of me. Or if you’ve ever wanted to wake up and have this most gorgeous, amazing guy engaged to you, this is the book for you!

About the Author: Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She battles a serious NASCAR addiction, was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels, and loses her car keys several times a day. Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter: Visit her website:

by Sara Daniel

If she remembers the past, they won’t have a future.

Gwen Fairfax awakens in a hospital, deluged by stabbing head pain and unable to remember anything about her past, especially the man who claims to be her fiancé. A trip to the Wiccan Haus is her only hope to discover the woman she used to be, understand her mysterious dreams about a resort, and fall in love with the man she’s supposed to marry.

To stop his stepmother’s land development schemes from ruining the natural habitat he’s dedicated his life to preserving, Tucker Wilde is willing to do anything, even pretend to be engaged to the woman his brother left at the altar. But he isn’t prepared for the sweet, vulnerable woman to tempt him at every turn until he longs to give in to the temptation.

The more Gwen gets to know Tucker, the more she’s certain he’s a man worth remembering. But if the Wiccan Haus heals her memory, he’ll have to fight to keep his bride.

Wiccan Haus Series
ISBN: 978-1-61333-888-9
Length: 32,000 words

Genre: Erotic romance, paranormal romance, contemporary romance, wedding romance, medical romance, drama, amnesia romance

Thursday, December 10, 2015

A Naughty North Pole Thanksgiving

by Deanna Wadsworth

If you have had the joy of reading my Naughty North Pole books, than you are familiar with all three of these characters—Santa, Ms. Claus, and Jack Frost. Ever wonder who cooks the turkey in the North Pole on Thanksgiving?

“Can you please do this for me, Jack?”
I let out a forced sigh and relented. “Fine, I’ll play nice, but if my sister starts dancing naked around the table, that’s on you.”
“Do you think she’ll do that?”
I eyed my partner, my boyfriend, the love of my life—whatever the fuck you wanted to call him. Most people call him Santa Claus but I call him Nicky. “Well, she is Mother Nature, but don’t worry, the autumnal equinox already passed, so no. But we’re not inviting her for Christmas. You don’t wanna see the weird shit she does for Saturnalia.”
Nick chuckled, his face brightening. His blond hair and Nordic features were a far cry from the fat Coca-Cola Santa the humans knew and loved. Despite being the source of all things cold and wintery on the inside, I melted a little watching him fuss about the kitchen for our first family Thanksgiving. I still couldn’t believe we were really together, a couple, rusticating up in the North Pole like a couple of newlyweds.
Hell, the whole supernatural world couldn’t believe it.
Jack Frost and Santa Claus together at last.
I just hoped we’d still be on speaking terms after our families piled around a table heaped with carbs and a dead bird with even more carbs shoved up its ass. I glanced around the kitchen. Every pot we owned was in use and Nick—totally in his element—whistled while he worked on a meal he’d been planning for months.
“Are you whistling Here Comes Santa Claus?” I demanded when I recognized the tune.
A wicked grin slashed across his face, and his blue eyes actually twinkled with mischief. “Just putting in a request for later tonight after everyone leaves.” He gave me a quick kiss that lingered just long enough to catch the attention of everything below my waist.
Grinning and knowing full well what he did to me, Nick went back to stirring some sort of sauce on the stove that smelled delicious.
But not as delicious as he did.
Coming up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and fit my cock snug against his ass. I humped his sweet bubble butt—the only thing round on the guy—and nibbled on his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “Here comes Santa Claus,” I promised, reaching down to give his north pole a stroke.
Laughing, he squirmed out of my embrace pushed me away. He pointed at me with his spoon, smiling but serious. “No, you behave. Just go chill the salad bowls for me, Mr. Frost.”
“I’d rather toss your salad.” I delivered a hard smack on his ass and he yelped. Grinning because I knew he liked it, I headed over to do as he asked. I never could say no to Nick.
“Oh, get a room,” a feminine voice dripping with sarcasm groaned. Frieda, Nick’s twin sister, joined us in the kitchen.
“Nah, I should fuck him right in the kitchen. You know you wanna watch, Freaky Frieda,” I quipped.
The gorgeous blonde put both hands on her curvy hips. “Eeew! He’s my brother.”
“But I’m not. You know you dream about this.” I groped my dick, giving it a good rearranging in my jeans after Nick got it halfway-to-hard with that delectable ass of his.
“You’re disgusting!”
I threw back my head and laughed. While Nick was the ooey-gooey romantic type, his twin sis was all sharp wit with an even sharper tongue. Though I gave her shit, I was crazy about her. She was cool and nothing like my nuttier than fruitcake sister.
“Isn’t there an elf somewhere who should be shoving his dick in that gaping hole you call a mouth?” I traced my finger around the rims of the salad plates until they were chilled, but not frosted.
“Fuck you, Jack,” she said with no malice in her voice at all. She joined her brother at the stove and plucked a piece of stuffing from a dish. “Mmm, this is good.”
“Would you two play nice?” Nick scolded. “And use a spoon, at least, Frieda.”
She took another piece with her fingers. “We are playing nice. Do you want us to pretend to be other people for this stupid family Thanksgiving we all know is gonna be a disaster?”
“It’s not stupid nor is it going to be a disaster,” he countered and I wisely kept my mouth shut. “And yes, can you both pretend to be civilized people?”
I met Frieda’s gaze and shrugged. “I think I can do that for an hour. But if Thor starts talking about whacking things with his hammer, you know I won’t be able to help myself. That guy makes it too easy.”
Frieda snorted in disgust and tried to steal more stuffing. Nick swatted at her hand with the spoon but she dodged it. “I can’t stand Thor. Why did you have to invite him?”
“Because he’s family.” He scooped stuffing into a bowl and handed it to her. “And you only hate Thor because Grampa Odin lets him use the beach house in Tahiti whenever he wants and you only get to use it if you’re being supervised.”
“It wasn’t my fault Jimmy Hoffa fell off the yacht. There were a lot of cocktails involved,” she argued. “When is everybody gonna let it go?”
“You fucked Jimmy Hoffa? You dirty slut!” I exclaimed, accidentally freezing a plate in my shock. When the plate cracked Nick threw up his hands in defeat.
“Really, Jack?” He ran a hand over his face in a miserable gesture and I suddenly felt bad for teasing.
“I never fucked him. That was Kenna. She’s the dirty slut, not me,” Frieda muttered under her breath. The way she stared at the floor and fidgeted told me there was a lot more to the story than she was letting on—and I would find out. But not right now.
Ignoring her, I walked up to Nick and placed my hands on his shoulder, our love warming me on the insides the way it always did when we touched. I looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry about the plate, babe. And it’s gonna be a perfect dinner. You’ve worked hard all day, and everything looks wonderful.”
“I have worked hard,” he said in a tiny voice, almost a whine. His pathetic expression was so damn adorable I hugged him at once. Resting his head on my shoulder, he melted into me with a sigh.
Caressing his broad back, I held him close, loving the feel of his powerful body against mine. “I promise to behave, okay? No eff-bombs, if I can help it. But if your cousin tells that joke about accidentally sitting on his hammer, I can’t make any promises.”
He pulled back, the tension replaced with a smile. “I love you, Jack.”
“Awww, I love you too, Nicky,” I said in a simpering falsetto which couldn’t disguise the deep love I had for him.
I kissed him, slow and thorough, tasting every delicious part of his mouth with my tongue. He moaned into me, hands sliding along my back in a tender caress. My hands found their way to his ass and I pulled our groins together. Nothing in the universe was better than sex with the man I’d waited my whole life for, but our kiss was not sexual, not really. Each touch and press of lips was laden with love and devotion—just like the feast he’d prepared overflowed with love and butter. He’d worked hard to pull all of this together and I would do my best to make sure it was a success. He deserved that. To Nick, nothing was more important than being with those he loved for the holidays.
Losing myself to the kiss and his embrace, I was thankful to be one of the people he loved.
“Ugh!” Frieda cried. “Seriously, get a room!”

If you enjoy sexy, fun Christmas stories, check out the completeseries of  Naughty North Pole books at any reputable ebook seller.
You can read Frieda’s story here: MS. CLAUS’S LIST
And right now, Nick and Jack’s love story is only 99 cents! A GIFT FOR SANTA

Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and with Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.

You can also find her young adult alter ego, K.D. Worth FacebookTwitter