Welcome to my domain...if you dare...

Welcome to my blog about life as a writer and the craziness it involves with struggles of daily life. Make yourself at home but only if you don't mind a little messiness from time to time. This isn't the Home and Garden blog or Martha Stewart so don't expect cute little crafts with homemade goodies. That's not happening in the world of vamps, weres, and other things that go bump in the night...well...maybe homemade blood cakes topped with 'scream a la cream' sweetness along with the sexy alpha males who serve it up.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Writer's Wednesday....Cherie Marks

Well, today I welcome author Cherie Marks to the blog.  Cherie and I met during the National Romance Writers of America conference in Orlando a couple of years ago.  She is a phenomenal woman and one spectacular writer.  Please join me as we get to know Cherie a bit more. 

So Cherie, was your road to publication a delightful stroll in the park or a tiring jog over hot coals?

It was probably more the hot coals route. I over-think everything, and publication was no different. I read the blogs of agents, editors, authors, and other industry people, and narrowed my choices to three online publishers to submit a short story I’d completed, edited, and sent to fellow readers. It wasn’t the first story I’d submitted, but an editor at The Wild Rose Press was willing to take a chance on it.

What was the best advice you were given leading you to getting published?

Study the market you want to break into. If you’re trying to get published in a particular house or market, see what’s popular there. Don’t necessarily change what you’re writing or how you write based on your findings, but use them as a guide to see if your work will even fit there or if you should look somewhere else. Somewhere out there is an audience waiting to find what you write. Do your homework and go where the audience already is.

That is definitely some great advice, Cherie.  I agree that all authors should do their research and homework when pursuing a publishing house.  Well speaking of publication, what did you do to celebrate when your first book was published?

Eat, of course! I’m a foodie at heart, so hubby and three kiddos went out to one of our favorite restaurants, Carrabba’s (unsolicited plug, but they could pay me in food).

LOL!  I love it.  Girl, that's sounds like exactly what I would do, too. Yep, bring on the food.  Let's go ahead and take a look at your recent publication, 'Into the Fire'. 


Months after he stole her affections—then her executive chef position—Shyann and Luke meet again under sizzling circumstances, competing head-to-head on a televised cooking show called Kitchen Twist. Each arrives with a motive: Luke intends to win back Shyann’s heart, even as she wants closure on the not-so-tasty heartbreak he once served up.

Luke knows culinary masterpieces require a delicate touch, but that knowledge is tossed out with the leftovers as he works to show Shyann he’s not such a bad guy. Now he pushes his skills to the limit to win the competition and satisfy a bet.

Can two top chefs resist each other as they move out of the pan and into the fire?


His hands burned with awareness of where they rested. His pulse raced, and her lips were mere inches from his. As if time stopped completely, they stared at each other, and for the life of him, Luke couldn’t seem to remember why he’d come in here.

Shyann shook off the haze first. “Let me go. I can get this without you.”

Against his need and with exaggerated motion, he pulled his hands away. She stumbled and eyed him suspiciously but went back to jumping for a high box.

Although he appreciated the bounce of her breasts each time she leaped upward, he forced himself not to stare, gathering some of his ingredients instead. But after watching for a few more seconds, with an irritated grunt, he reached around her, grabbed her target, and handed it to her.

“I said I didn’t need your help.”

“Fine, I’ll put it back.”

His hand touched the box, and she pulled it behind her. The motion caused their bodies to collide again. Her liquid brown eyes blazed up at him, and even as a small voice in the back of his brain screamed he didn’t have time for this, he couldn’t seem to pull away. She looked so damn soft and vulnerable, and all he wanted to do was step out of the way of her win, give it all to her because she deserved it. But first, he wanted to kiss her, a long, hot, turn-their-knees-to-jelly kiss.

Steamy indeed!  I love the excerpt and the book cover is absolutely hot...uh...no pun intended.  Well, let's move on to another area.  Do you believe in love at first sight?

I believe in chemistry at first sight. Whether you’re trying or not, there are going to be some people you click with easier than others, there are going to be some people who you are instantly attracted to, and there are going to be those who instantly butter your bread, so to speak. It’s just a little nature mixed with a little pure chance.

Wow!  I love how you explained that.  Now, what is your favorite romance movie?

Though many have tried to imitate the greatness of it, Love Actually is my favorite forever. I love the way the stories weave in and out of each other, and I love particularly Hugh Grant and Martine McCutcheon’s story of the British Prime Minister falling for the food service girl and the scene where Colin Firth proposes in front of all those people is just so romantic. So much is revealed about how we fall in love, how love changes, the sacrifices of love, and how love endures. It’s a great movie to watch anytime.

As we come to the end of our interview time together, Cherie, what advice would you give aspiring authors?

Be persistent! Never take rejection personally or as the end of your journey. Learn from it then move forward.

So true.  Thank you for visiting us on the blog today and sharing 'Into the Fire' with everyone.  I greatly appreciate you allowing us to get a glimpse into your thoughts.  I look forward to having you on the blog sometime in the near future. 

Thank you so much for letting me hang out today! Love a good blog guestie opportunity!

To learn more about Cherie Marks and all her writing, please visit any of the following links:

Into the Fire Amazon BuyLink: http://tinyurl.com/3f7vfnp

Into the Fire BN Buylink: Barnes and Noble

Into the Fire TWRP BuyLink: http://tinyurl.com/3mfn3zj

Facebook-- http://on.fb.me/qRl1lD

Twitter— http://twitter.com/cheriemarks

Tempting Tuesday....Strawberries Delight

Beth always had a thing for chocolate and strawberries. Once Stephen placed the scrumptious treat to his lips, that’s all the invitation she needed to taste a sample of his luscious mouth. Hmmmm…..Yeah, a second serving is in order indeed.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Writer's Wednesday....Barbara Bettis

Author Barbara Bettis

Today, I welcome my friend and historical romance author, Barbara Bettis to the blog.  Barbara is a member of my dear Ass Cheek Angels blog group.  I'm really excited about her being here today!  Plus a little birdie told me that this is Barbara's first blog interview.  YAY!  Congratulations, Barbara and thank you so much for allowing me this honor.  I am thrilled to high heavens that you agreed to break into this process with me.  I promise to be gentle...heehee.  Uh-hum, well with that being said, let's give a warm welcome to Barbara. 

Me:  Hi, Barbara!

Barbara:  Hi JD. Thanks for inviting me today. I’m happy to be here. And a little nervous, because this is my first blog appearance.

Me:  That's quite understandable, dear.  I get a little nervous from the whole blog thing myself.  How about you start off by telling us a little bit about your writing projects and such. 

Barbara:  I have completed three English-set medieval romances. My very first is still dear to my heart--isn’t every writer’s first one special? It had its run, then went into the files as I worked on the next hero and heroine. However, I pulled it out recently to see if it might be salvageable. I took some off the top, a little around the middle. 

Me:  Yes, that sounds all to familiar, Barbara.  'Been there and done that' myself.  So, what is the most difficult for you to write: Characters, conflict, emotions?

Barbara:  Yes. Actually, I think it’s emotions. I love doing characters and conflict, but I do face a challenge with getting the emotions layered in.

Me:  Do you have critique partners?  If so, can you tell us a bit about them?

Barbara:  I am so lucky to have fantastic, talented critique partners. In two groups, actually. One group is online and one meets every Tuesday afternoon in town. The online group has five, each in a different genre. One is published in Western historical and pirate time-travel; one is published in contemporary romantic humor; one has a terrific historical novel on sub through her agent, and the fourth is shopping her delightful steampunk.

The in-town group of four writers is just as varied. One partner has her Regency out this month with Avalon; one has her Western historical inspiration out on a full request sub, and the third is an award-winning YA and paranormal author who’s beginning the submission process.

The great thing about both of these groups is that each person brings a different ‘eye’ to the process. They’re all great, supportive ladies who are always there for each other.

Me:  Sounds like you have some remarkable critique partners there, Barbara.  It's so true that each one can bring a different perspective into a piece of writing.  Now, where were we?  Oh yes!  If you were going to cast the hero of your book, what actor would get the part?

Barbara:  Oh, my goodness. An easy question to answer. Richard Armitage. He’d be perfect as Sir Giles. He played the villain, Sir Guy, in the BBC series Robin Hood and the hero, John Thornton, in BBC’s North and South. Tall, dark-haired. He’s not just vapid, magazine-ad ‘pretty.’ He’s interesting looking, intriguing. (I’d say ‘layered’ but every time I do these days, I think of Shrek. LOL).

Me:  *fans self after viewing images of Richard Armitage* Oh my, he is one 'layered' actor indeed.  Shrek's the last thing I'd think of, Barbara.  Just sayin'. *winks*  Anyway, we should get a move on with the interview.  So, if you could time travel would you go forward or backward?

Barbara:  Back, of course. But I’d have to take a supply of headache meds. And a toothbrush. And my favorite books. And one or two personal items. Since that probably wouldn’t happen, I guess I’d just be dropping back for a visit.

Me:  LOL!  You sound like me.  I definitely would take along my favorite books as well.  Plus, a woman's got to have some of the modern conveniences with her; such as a toothbrush. LOL. 

Ok, Barbara, you've made it to the final question.  See?  Everything's gone like smooth sailing, right?  It looks like it to me.  Well, here's the last round of torture, ah-hem, I mean question for you...heehee.  What advice would you give aspiring authors?

Barbara:  Start as early in life as you can, and have patience while you learn the craft. Find some good critique partners. Develop a thick skin, because when the rejections come you must persevere. Develop a daily writing habit. And read, read, read.

Me:  Great advice, Barbara!  One must definitely develop thick skin in this line of work.  Well, Barbara, thank you so much for joining us today on the blog.  I had so much fun and I hope your first time in the 'hot seat' wasn't so scary for you after all.  I look forward to having you on the blog again someday soon.

Barbara:  Thanks again for inviting me, JD. It’s been fun.

You can learn more about Barbara Bettis and her writings at:


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Tempting Tuesday...Shipwrecked

Although the island's exotic allure transfixed Rafael and Hannah, neither one of them yearned to call the place their new home. Shipwrecked for almost two weeks, the lost couple became disillusioned about ever being rescued.  The beauty of the island seemed too serene for them.  Both couldn't deny the appeal of the island's mysterious sensuality.  The underline current of danger and sexual energy surged through the air.  It stirred even the most docile animals into a frenzy, let alone a man and a woman with intimacy issues.

As Hannah sat on the white sand beach, the tropical winds wisped her sun bleached hair against her cheeks.  Her mood sobered with thoughts of their current situation.  Stuck. Lost. Forever gone from home and loved ones. 

She continually combed her fingers through the grains of sand.  The motion soothed her uneasiness to some degrees; yet, her anxiety level peaked daily within her soul.  The need to be off the island gnawed at every fiber of her being.  Her mental and physical state grew more unstable and unhealthy with each passing day. Hannah didn't know how much more she could take of the deserted island, especially being stuck on it with Rafael Ramirez. The man reeked of chauvinism and arrogance.  Sure, he was a sea captain and had a lot of knowledge of the open sea and various exotic places around the world but Hannah cringed every time he opened his luscious mouth. She hated the fact that she even noticed his lips, and even worse was how each word sexually stimulated her as they tumbled out of his mouth. 


Hannah's hands fisted in the sand as she heard his deep Hispanic accent.  That voice should be illegal and definitely not on a male as attractive as Captain Rafael Ramirez.  He embodied everything she vowed to stay away from all of her adult life.  Arrogant.Wild. Handsome. She'd learned the hard way that those three combinations were dangerous when it came to men.  Oh and the fourth thing to stay away from was most definitely...dangerous.  Yes, Rafael Ramirez was one dangerous man.

"Senorita Hannah?"

Liquid heat instantly pooled between Hannah's thighs when she heard Rafael speak her name.  It was a good thing there was a breeze blowing other wise she'd probably melt right there on the beach.  Although she wanted to be left alone, she didn't want to appear rude. 

"Yes, Captain?"

"Are you ok?  I know this isn't an ideal situation but we are on an extraordinary island.  Are we not?"  Rafael stretched out both arms indicating the island's beauty and vastness.

Hannah snorted.  "No I'm not ok, Captain.  I'm missing home.  I'm ready to get off of this rock."  Her toes bunched into the sand as her fingers remained fisted.

"You're frightened, Senorita Hannah? Of this island?"  He eyed her curiously.  His sharp eyes keyed onto her body's reactions.  He sensed deep fear and tension within her.

Hannah stared out across the ocean's horizon.  The rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore hypnotised her. That was fine with her.  She wanted to be hypnotised and 'lost' in the moment.  She wanted and needed to forget about the horrors of the past week.  First, there was the loss of the crewmen and the ship during a hurricane.  Then she and the captain barely survived the wrath of the ocean and came upon this strange and mysterious island.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it but something wasn't quite right with the island.  It didn't help matters either that she experienced strange and evil nightmares every night since they washed upon the shores of this mysterious place.

Her nightmares consisted of a creature with glowing crimson eyes with large canines.  Each nightmare involved the creature mutilating someone.  Sometimes, Hannah knew the person.  Sometimes, she didn't.  Either way though, it was highly disturbing to her.  Hannah shivered as she relived that horrors from each person's death.  Their screams of terror echoed through her head.  Every night she had nightmares.  Every night she dreaded the dark. 

"Yes.  I am."  Her voice faint and distant even to her own ears.  "Aren't you, Rafael?"

Bittersweet emotions ran through Rafael as he heard Hannah say his name.  Pleased because she actually spoke his given name; yet, distressed that she said it due to her overwhelming fear.  He hated to see her so frightened about their situation. 

"Hannah, don't be frightened.  I'm here and I will never leave you unprotected."  He laid his hand upon her shoulders to caress and ease the tension out of her.

Instead of helping though, it made things worse.  Hannah leaped up and swirled around to face Rafael.  "Don't!  Don't touch me.  It doesn't help."

Baffled by her reaction, Rafael dropped his arms to his sides.  "I didn't mean to offend you.  I only wanted to offer comfort.  I see that me doing so only caused you more anxiety.  I apologize."

Screaming, Hannah fumed at Rafael's words.  "Stop it! I don't want apologies. I don't want your protection.  I just want to go home!  I need to go home!  Hannah's words trailed off as she bolted towards the ocean.  Her skirt swished against her sun kissed calves.  Ordinarily, Rafael would have thought the sight was damn sexy but then he realized she dove head first when she ran out into the shore line and began swimming out into the deep. 

Fuck.  Rafael made a mad dash after the hysterical woman.  Adrenaline pumped through his veins and heightened his senses.   What the hell was she doing? 

The waves smashed into him as he reached for Hannah's leg.  They both were knocked under by the powerful force.  Rafael kept a tight grip onto Hannah's leg as he tugged her tightly to his body.  As he swam back to shallow waters, she flung her arms out, kicking and spewing water from her mouth. 

"Leave me alone, Rafael!  Let me be, please!"  She pushed him which caused her to land butt first on the shallow bottom.

"Damn it, Hannah! You just can't swim across the ocean.  Be sensible for God's sake.  Are you deliberately trying to kill yourself?  Are you?"  As Rafael asked the questions, he saw the answer in her eyes.  Damn.  "Why, Hannah? Why would you do that, sweetheart?"  He towered over the wet and distraught female.  His breathing ragged from the high adrenaline and assertion. 

Hannah's head jerked up and locked onto Rafael's eyes.  The term of endearment threw her off balance.  If anything it calmed her nerves.  She didn't understand why that one word settled her but at the moment she didn't really care. 

Reaching up and grabbing onto his thighs, Hannah needed to pull herself up.  She needed to be closer to him. She needed him.

Rafael's breathing slowed down with each tentative movement Hannah made towards him.  He watched her intently with the eyes of a predator; yet, he wanted to protect her not devour her.  Or did he?  He honestly didn't know at the moment.  Although, every fiber of his being ached for her and wanted her as his own.

Holding her head within his two hands, he bore his eyes into hers.  "I'll keep you safe. You have nothing to fear from me, Hannah. Ever."  At first, his lips brushed gently against hers but then he boldly staked his claim by possessing every inch of her mouth.  She was his and he would protect her with his life. No matter the cost. 

Hannah cried as she heard his reassuring words.  "I know you will, Rafael.  Somehow, I know you will.  Thank you." 

As Rafael held onto Hannah and silently prayed for a miracle, his eyes searched the jungle line for any potential danger.  Within moments a menacing howl echoed from the jungle forest and reached out to the sea water.  Closing his eyes, he feverishly kissed Hannah.  She kissed him back with great intensity as well, until she stared into the crimson eyes from her nightmares.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Writer's Wednesday...Frederick J Arceneaux

Author Frederick J Arceneaux
Today on the blog, I welcome a newly published author as my special guest and he's male at that!  I'm really excited about introducing Frederick J Arceneaux to everyone.  Fred is a member of two Romance Writers of America chapters, the Heart of Dixie and Southern Magic. His debut novel, "MIRRORED" is a supernatural thriller which will leave the readers a little frightened; yet, begging for more.

Thank you, Fred, for joining us today.  I greatly appreciate you taking the time to answer some questions about your writing journey and process.  With that being said, let's begin!

So Fred, was your road to publication a delightful stroll in the park or a tiring jog over hot coals?

My road to publication was long and difficult. It took me 8 years, 7 of them learning the craft of writing and discovering my signature writing style and genre.

I know I love to write while I sit in my favorite over sized chair.  Where is your favorite place to write?

In my study at home, very few distraction.

How likely are people you meet to end up in your next book?

Very likely indeed, most of my characters are taken, from people I meet in real life. Some of them are composites of two or more individuals.

Speaking of books, here's a sneak peak of "MIRRORED" for the readers:


Christine Albright was, drawn into the center of an eight- year old double homicide while furnishing an old Thibodaux, Louisiana plantation house under renovations. The only survivor of the attack on her family, then eight -year old Celestine Badeau is now sixteen and being, pursued by the demon sent by the vo doo woman Old Tre intent on killing her. The mystery of these murders exposes Christine’s dark past, being, possessed by a demon as a teenager. The accidental meeting between Christine and Celestine sets into motion horrors straight out of Hell. Their only defense is their faith in God.


October 1997, Birmingham Alabama

While the events of that day were far from ordinary for the fourteen-year-old girl tied to her bed, for Father Victolini they were all in a day’s work. His calm, however, did little to ease the mind of the girl’s mother. Although only thirty-nine, lines of weariness and distress etched Cynthia Albright’s cheeks, and she grasped the priest’s arm in a gesture both pleading and full of fear.

“Father Victolini, do something.” His hand covered hers, white against the austere blackness of his sleeve, as it clutched him, and he squeezed gently in a gesture of reassurance. “Cynthia, I promise I won’t give up until Christine is freed. But I caution you, cases such as your daughter’s often take days to resolve.” He looked over at her husband. “Robert, take your boys downstairs, and don’t let them back up tonight!”

The older boy, seventeen-year-old Bobby, protested as he pulled his arm free from his father’s restraining hand. “No! She’s my sister, and I can’t leave her, not while she’s like this.”

Father Victolini caught Bobby’s eye, his look stern yet compassionate as he spoke to him. “Tonight will be too dangerous for you and your family. Take your brother, Steve, and stay downstairs. No matter what you hear, do not come up here! Do you understand me?” Bobby knew by Father Victolini’s tone that he had no choice but to obey. Stubborn reluctance etched on his face, he led his brother down to the sitting room, followed by their father, and the three of them sat without looking at one another. Robert quietly instructed them to take out their rosaries.

As the sound of their strong voices lifted in prayer, the hallway lights outside Christine’s bedroom suddenly went out, leaving Cynthia and Father Victolini temporarily blinded by the unexpected darkness. From inside Christine’s room, an unnaturally deep, coarse, guttural male voice said: “Come in Priest. I have been waiting for you.”

Cynthia looked at the priest, tried to say something to him, but the shock of that unearthly voice stunned her senses and prevented her from getting a sound out of her throat.

Father Victolini sighed and let his eyes adjust to the darkness as he slowly entered the room.

Once inside, he heard the bedroom door slam shut behind him and whirled around to grab the door handle, turning it as he attempted to open the door. It jiggled but remained, to all intents and purposes, firmly locked.

“Father, open this door! Why did you shut and lock it?” Cynthia’s frantic voice rose in evident fear, then she called out to her husband. “Bob, get up here. Father Victolini has locked himself inside Christine’s room.”

Bob Junior and Steve bolted past their father, headed for the stairs, but their father’s stern command stopped them in their tracks. “Hold it, boys. Stay down here, and keep praying. I’ll take care of this.” Robert ran up the stairs to his wife’s side and attempted to open the door. “Father, unlock this door now!”

“I didn’t lock the door. Get the key, and try to open it.”

Bob rushed to the end of the hall and into the master bedroom. A moment later, he came back with the key and inserted it into the lock. The key turned easily but the tumblers did not, and he scowled his bewilderment and rattled the handle in frustration. “Father, the door is unlocked.”

“Be patient, Bob. The door will open soon.”

Father Victolini turned to the figure lying in bed. He knew it was Christine, but it did not look like her. Staring up at him was a voluptuous blonde in a nightgown with her hands and feet tied to the bedposts. The figure spoke with a soft and seductive tone.

“Father, come closer. You like what you see; you used to. Come closer and untie me so I can give you what you’ve not had in years. You loved it and took it as often as you could. Don’t you still miss it? You can have it again.”

Father reached for the crucifix hanging from a cord around his neck. “May God rebuke you for tempting me and possessing this innocent girl.”

The thing that controlled Christine’s body ignored Father Victolini’s commands. “Innocent? Who is innocent? Look at me, priest. This is what you crave. You couldn’t get enough when you didn’t have that collar around your throat.”

The thing had the appearance of sensual lust and Father Victolini struggled within himself to resist its temptations. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command that you depart from her now!”

At these words, the figure in bed changed back to Christine and called out to her mother. “Mommy, come here and help me. It’s gone, and I’m okay now.”

The bedroom door instantly opened, and Cynthia saw her little girl. She looked tired but appeared normal. Cynthia rushed past Father Victolini to her daughter’s bedside.

“Mommy, untie me, and let me hug you.”

Cynthia began loosening Christine’s right wrist.

“No, don’t; get away from her!” Father Victolini shouted a warning, but too late. Her right wrist freed, the figure in bed struck Cynthia across her face and blood welled from a long scratch to run down Cynthia’s left cheek. She looked bewildered, and small wonder. Her daughter would have never done such a thing. Repulsed, she jumped away with her gaze fixed upon Christine’s face, which was suddenly dry and covered with fine scales, having a serpent’s open mouth with fangs ready to strike.


Wow! That's some beginning chapter you have there, Fred.  It definitely grabs the readers up front and center.  Well I can see why your publisher, Astraea Press, snatched up this gem of yours.  On that note:  What was the best advice you were given leading you to getting published?

To stop trying to force my writing into a genre I’m not good at. To write from my heart those genres that I enjoy. Less than a year later I sold my first manuscript.

Sounds like some excellent advice was given to you.  I definitely agree that authors should write what they love.  Ok, one last question for our readers, please.  This one is unrelated to writing.  What music are you listening to lately?

Old time Rock and Roll from the 50’s and early 60’s.

Oh yeah, you can never go wrong with some classics in the mix.  Those two decades contributed some of the best music for that era and future generations.  I love listening to some Elvis and Ray Charles as well.

Thank you, Fred, for being my guest today.  I thoroughly enjoyed having you for a visit.  Please feel free to come by anytime. 

You can learn more about Frederick J Arceneaux and the purchase of "MIRRORED" by visiting his website and the following links: 

Website: (http://frederickjarceneaux.webs.com/)

Youtube video; MIRRORED;

Astraea Press - E-Publisher

Create Space - Print

Amazon books - ebook and print

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Tempting Tuesday...Is a Rose Just a Rose?

"A rose is a rose is a rose"... Yeah, right. 

I'm thinking this rose is an extremely special one considering who's holding it.  Better yet, since it's Valentine's Day, may you all receive a special rose from your special person today and always.


JD :)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Writer's Wednesday...Debra Glass

Author Debra Glass
Today I welcome author Debra Glass to the blog.  Debra is a southern author who knows how to spice things up with her historical and paranormal romances.  I'm so thrilled she took time out of her busy schedule to join us. Thank you, Debra, for answering questions which give us all an inside look into your thoughts about writing and your personal interests as well.  Debra will be giving away a free download of 'Scarlet Widow' to a very lucky person who leaves a comment on the blog today.  Enjoy and good luck, everyone!

Do you have critique partners?

I have the most wonderful critique partner! I met Naima Simone at a Southern Magic RWA chapter meeting at which I spoke. At the time, Naima was interested in submitting to my publisher, Ellora’s Cave, and I told her I’d look at a couple of her chapters. I quickly recognized her writing talent and her knack for penning sexy stories fraught with heart-wrenching emotion. Although our styles are very different (she writes breathtaking romantic suspense and I write erotic historicals) ours was an easy fit, not to mention, it was fantastic when Naima joined the ranks of Ellora’s Cave authors. Check out her site at http://naimasimone.com

Tell us about your real life romance.

My husband and I met shortly after Valentine’s Day in 2006, and married six weeks later. This year, we celebrate our 6th anniversary and still feel as if we’re on our honeymoon. After two failed marriages, I had learned what I wanted out of a relationship and when I met Timm, I knew he was all those things. He loves and respects me. He supports me and encouraged my dream to become a writer. He gives me space to be me and he adores my children. I find him super sexy. Oh, and did I mention he irons and also dotes on our cat, Severus? Yep. He’s quite the keeper.

If you were going to cast the hero of your book, what actor would get the part?

Oh my. Ian Sommerhalder (Damon, Vampire Diaries) has stolen both mine and my daughter’s hearts. That sexy bad body smirk, his ice colored eyes and that black hair just make me sigh. I’ve based several of my heroes’ looks on Ian’s. Jack in Badcock, Hardin in Scarlet Widow, and Axel in Twice the Novice. Three books. Three. I’d say he’s inspired me.

What was the best advice you were given leading you to getting published?

My husband posed the question, “If you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?” I didn’t even have to think. I replied, “A writer.” Rather than deride me as most people in my past had done regarding my desire to be a published author, he said, “Well, if you want to be a writer, then you have to treat writing like a job. Get up and sit down at the computer and write, research publishers, do the work it takes to get published.” Until then, writing had been a hobby for me. This new insight inspired me to make a career of writing.

If you could switch places with one of your characters would you?

Those first published books always hold a special place in your heart. I am happy being Debra Glass, mom, wife, writer, slave to Severus the cat. But…but…if I had to switch places with one of my characters, it would be Jillian, the reluctant psychic in Gatekeeper. Gatekeeper was inspired by a real-life encounter I had with the ghost of a dashing Confederate Brigadier General after visiting the Shiloh Battlefield National Park in Savannah, Tennessee. Thomas Benton Smith remains one of my favorite romance novel heroes. Tall, dark and sexy, witty, at times a smart ass, but always protective of the heroine, Benton has stuck with me as a character. In fact, he’s had cameos in Extra Sensual Perception, Shadowkeeper, Spirit Lifter, Scarlet Widow, and Rebel Rose.

What is your favorite time of year?

I love Halloween! I adore ghost stories and have penned five regional ghost story collections. I also conduct a ghost walk tour in Florence, Alabama, during the week of Halloween where I take brave souls walking through the historic district in Florence and regale them with unusual history and spine-tingling tales of ghostly encounters. For more information, visit my site at http://discovertheshoals.com

Copyright © DEBRA GLASS, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.


Tough…or tender? If she follows her heart, she won’t have to choose.

Molly has forever lusted for all three Barksdale brothers, but could never choose. Instead, scandal chose for her, and she married the youngest of the three. Then the brothers go to war, and Molly finds herself a grieving widow when her husband is murdered by a merciless band of Union soldiers.

Hardin Barksdale is hell-bent on avenging his brother. Greer Barksdale is honor-bound to protect his home. They both want Molly—and this time, they’re willing to share. The temptation is seductive, the passion sizzling. In harsh, post-war Tennessee, their nightly forbidden trysts wield the power to heal them all—if they can escape the twisted desires of a man bent on seeing all three of them dead.


Molly stopped in the doorway of Greer’s room. He stood at his chest of drawers, gazing wistfully at a carte de visite of him with Hardin and Witt. Many times, she’d stood in exactly that same spot, staring at that same photograph. They had all known happier times before the war.

A lock of Greer’s wavy brown hair had fallen forward and Molly had the inexplicable desire to smooth it back into place. A muscle along his jawline twitched. Of all the brothers, Greer looked most like the paintings Molly had seen of his mother. The fairest of them all, Greer’s face was dominated by his owlish hazel eyes and unruly, deep-molasses-colored hair. Not quite as tall as Hardin or Witt, Greer possessed an air of quiet dignity and intelligence, a gentleness that would have never been construed as weakness.

Molly saw it as perfection.

When he sniffed and brushed a tear away from his cheek, Molly could no longer allow her presence to go unknown. She ventured into the room, the rustle of her stiff petticoat attracting Greer’s attention.

He blinked, attempting to bat away his tears.

Molly cupped his freshly shaven cheek. “You don’t have to be strong with me, Greer. I miss him too.”

A stifled whimper escaped Greer’s lips as he folded her into his arms and nuzzled her hair. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. Molly held him, rubbing her palms over the thin linen covering his back, trying to discern if the hollow grief she felt was for Greer’s loss or her own.

She ached to close her eyes and seek comfort, to beg him to stay here instead of following the army northward. Sweet, kind Greer. It broke her heart for him to know how Witt died. Tortured. Left in a battered, bloody heap on the side of the road. Molly hugged Greer tighter as she tried to force the haunting mental images away. There were no words she could utter to soothe him or ease his pain. Nothing she could do would alleviate his grief, and she knew she was helpless to do anything except stand here and hold him in her arms.

They stayed that way for what seemed an eternity before something inside her shifted. Grief melted into need. Her fingers flirted with the curls winding over the collar of his shirt. One palm moved over the sinewy muscles and hard bones from his shoulder down his back. Heat radiated through his shirt, promising an elusive comfort she knew wouldn’t last. Molly brushed her cheek against his neck. He smelled different than either Witt or Hardin. Where Hardin smelled like the outdoors and something else she couldn’t define, Greer’s fragrance hinted of leather-bound books and shaving lather.

A thought rose in Molly that caused a shard of guilt to stab her. What if she had married Greer instead of Witt? Constant, thoughtful Greer, who stood here alive and capable. This moment would have a different meaning. She would be fearful and yet hopeful that her husband would return for good soon. The Yankees would not have humiliated her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the images assailing her mind. Naked. Taunted. Shamed.

A shudder tore through her and Greer gathered her closer. The images melted away and she focused on the strong arms around her, even as her conscience railed at her to drive the fantasy far from her mind. Her body, however, refused to let it go.

She pressed impossibly closer to the hard man in her arms, loving the unyielding feel of him countering her from head to toe. Her traitorous body reacted to his heat, to the feel of a steely and protective embrace. She felt small in his arms. Loved.

This was wrong. She wore mourning black for this man’s brother and all she could think about was assuaging the rising need urging her toward sinful desires.

Sinful actions.

She drew back just far enough to look into his tortoiseshell eyes. His pupils enlarged, drawing her in.

“Greer,” she whispered, trembling like a trapped hare in his arms.

His thick lashes fluttered down as he slanted his head and captured her lips.

Molly’s heart pounded as his mouth teased across hers. The tip of his tongue swept over her lips, prompting her to return his kiss. She opened for him, admitting him, kissing him back.

A soft moan filled her mouth and his big hands caught her shoulders, anchoring her against him as he plundered her mouth.

Dear Lord, what was she thinking? But she had not the will to stop this.

Instead she arched into him, opening further, clinging when his tongue intruded to spar with hers. Need unfurled, heating her blood and pooling between her legs. It was unladylike of her but she had enjoyed coupling with her husband. She’d loved the sensation of physical release. Even now, she craved it.

Even now, with her deceased husband’s brother.


Wow!  I'm so ready to get my hands on 'Scarlet Widow'.  I really love the cover too.  It's extremely beautiful and sexy.  Thank you for sharing this tasty treat with us and thank you so very much for being my guest today. I look forward to having you again real soon. 

You can learn more about Debra and her books by visiting her website and Ellora's Cave Publishing website as well. 



Gatekeeper: http://debraglass.com/fiction-phantom-lovers/gatekeeper/
(Gatekeeper Ebook will be free February 13-26, 2012)

Tempting Tuesday...I'm Sorry, My Love

Once her heart's door opened, Keri gave all her love. Not willing to back down from mixed emotions, there was no turning back for Keri. Yet as she stood in the door way, the proof of her careless actions sunk in as she watched her best friend, lover, and soul mate shattered from pain. Pain which she caused. She grimaced at the thought. Stupid bitch. What had she been thinking?

Legs shaking, her walk slumbered like one going on a death march. Maybe she was. In all her existence, love eluded and confused her but not with this man. He alone broke down all her defenses and years of pain. With a quick glance, a brief touch, or a single word; this man melted her insides. Treating her like she mattered, he alone filled her; emotionally and physically. He treated her like she mattered and she was his world.

Then in one swift instant, everything shifted. His views on her and their love changed forever. She catapulted the relationship, just not in the direction which either of them dreamed. Not anyone or anything else. She alone shattered his trust and love. Pain ripped through and shredded her heart; yet, it didn't even come close for what he endured.

Her blue dress rustled against her skin as she drew near him. Taking slow deliberate steps, the silk fabric caressed her as a tentative lover. The irony of that thought hadn't escaped her. He bought the dress for her after their frantic love making in a boutique's dressing room. Goose bumps rose along her arms and thighs as she savored the cherished memory. Shaking her head, she didn't have the luxury of reminiscing at the moment. Focusing on the task at hand was pertinent. That task included groveling if necessary.

The tension between them polluted the air. Although they were only mere steps away from each other, the emotional distance spanned the vastness of a galaxy.

Acutely aware of the need to confront her fears, Keri swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Licking her dry lips, she watched the man she loved. Wetness formed behind her eyes as she surveyed his demeanor. Head hung low and broad shoulders humped over the desk. Damn, he looked tired. Second guessing her decision for coming, Keri slowly turned towards the exit.

Renn's head throbbed from all the shit played out lately. Hell everything throbbed. What the fuck? Yeah, the tequila definitely made a deal with the devil last night and kept Renn oblivious....for a little while.

He titled his head as a faint sound whispered into his ears. Keri. God, what to do? Not sure knowing the correct action to take, really pissed him off. Being in control suited him. Being hung over was not being in control, far from it.

As Renn turned his head, his peripheral vision caught the movement of blue. Was she leaving? What? Why? Mind numbing confusion and fear gripped him. Fear of her walking out and not returning...to him.

"Don't." The one word echoed through the dim lighted room.

Keri abruptly stopped at the sound of his voice. Thinking she may have heard wrong, her nerves jacked up with a deep ache and dread. Don't what? Stay? Go? Fuck....not sure, she forced her ragged breathing to slow down. Hard thing to do when two different life scenarios instantly flashed through the mind. One play of events, she prayed like hell wasn't the case. The other, well, it all depended on the next few moments.

She cleared her throat before she spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"Don't, Keri. Stop the apologizing." Renn rose from his desk chair. The movements deliberate and slow. He forced them to be. Hell, he couldn't control a lot of things in this world but he sure as fuck would control the actions of his body. Well, not exactly all of them. Evidently his cock had a mind of its own. So did his heart. Damn it.

As he approached the woman who owned his heart, every bit of anger and hurt clashed with his burning passion for her. Yet, his pride struggled between caressing or strangling her. Although, some sexual fantasies involved both for some people but not with Renn. His fantasies regarding Keri involved slowly penetrating her pussy as he's eyes locked onto hers. Steely blues vs. baby blues. Not at all an apocalypse by any means but an epic tale of two souls coming together in every true aspect.

Renn's chest tightened at the sight of Keri. God, he loved this woman. His woman. How and why could he ever consider letting her walk away from him? Never. Realizing in that instant he had to make a choice, he chose her. His love and his happiness along with hers. Hell, she wasn't perfect, neither was he; yet, together they were unstoppable and made a formidable team.

As their eyes met, their love for each other spoke without either of them saying a single word. He stretched out his arms to draw her into his welcoming embrace. Instantly Keri's body shook from the raw emotions clawing at her.

"Shhhh, baby." He smoothed her hair from her face. "It's ok."

"Is it?" Her voice trembled. The fear evident in those two words. "I never meant to hurt you, to doubt you or us."

Logically he knew everything could not be corrected in that moment but as he kissed her forehead, he also knew that nothing would stop his love for her. He owed it to himself to pursue the possibilities of a fabulous life with Keri. One stupid lapse in human error didn't call for either of them to throw in the towel, especially when they were on the verge of a new and wonderful journey together.

"Answer this for me, Keri. Do you love me?"

Tears spilled from her eyes. "Yes, more than anything in this world."

"Good, 'cause I love you." Renn's voice cracked from hours of drinking but he needed to say what was on his mind and in his heart. "Yes, I was hurt but I also hurt you too. We're not saints, baby. Yet, for some reason I forgot that. Forgive me for putting so much pressure on you. On us."

"Forgive you? Yes, of course, but there's really no need. Please forgive me, sweetie. I..."

Interrupting her, Renn brushed his lips against hers and whispered. "Stop. No more. I love you. You love me. I forgive you. You forgive me. Let's not mention it again."

Keri's heart burst with happiness. Throwing her arms around her man's neck, she kissed him back with all the deep intensity from within her soul. "Never. Again. I love you, Renn. Always."

Renn's heart warmed as she spoke those words to him. He'd never let her go. Hell, he'd move Heaven and Earth to have her by his side forever. "No. Never. Again. I love you, Keri."

Although the unknown was scary when it involved love, both willingly gave each other an unspoken promise of commitment, love, and trust as they embraced. Neither one of them could think of a better way of starting their lives together.