A steamy morsel for YOU from erotic author: Shakir Rashaan
Go here for your erotic treat! https://medium.com/@shakirrashaan/thirteen-days-of-halloween-blog-party-dafa84fe2ad5
Stay tuned for tomorrows teaser!
Release, Chat & Sales (AND FREE)Update
Most recently released– To Yank a Tiger by the Tail (Paranormal) available NOW through SharaAzod, LLC (Coming SOON to Amazon, B&N, ARe and other ebook retailers) Get reintroduced to SEXY Tiger Shifter Dax and meet rough around the edges, Biker Shifter, Starl.
CHAT– Writerspace tomorrow night. (I’ll have a prize or two to give out)
FREE- Table for Three-Hold the Blood a FUN, bloody ménage romp will be FREE this coming weekend. (For the weekend)
Still ON SALE for $1.99 (Only through February) Both Books, 1 and 2 in the Swamp Magic Series.
Armored Hearts, Book 2.5 in the Swamp Magic Series!
So this morning I see headlines….”Winter Storm may ruin Valentines.”
It goes on to show how flower orders may be held up.
Now guys and gals, do you really require the must have of flowers to pull off a romantic Valentine’s Day? If so, your relationship future is already in jeopardy.
Together and snowed in? Make dinner together. Nude. (Just don’t make a fried anything) Get creative with those board games. Forget points, use those scrabble letters to make love words. Scattegories? Make each name be something romantic…or dirty. *wink*
Apart and unable to make it the other party? Get your TECHNOLOGICAL freak on. Send photos of what you WOULD have liked to give the other, then end your night, uh, well…you get it. Don’t want to chance becoming the next x-rated viral hit? Both agree on a movie/youtube video etc and watch together. Don’t have split screen, have check in times where you go back to Skyping or texting.
Have children and snowed in?
Break out some crafts, hide snacks around the house, and have them hide some for you.
Heart Shaped Meatloaves, Potatoes heart shaped.
No chocolate in sight? Get creative with other forms of sweets.
Pancakes formed into hearts and topped with whatever you have in the house. Chocolate syrup, cinnamon sautéed apples, just whatever you’ve got. Or add a little red food coloring for a touch of flair.
Bottom line, a Winter Storm can bring couples and/or families together for quality snuggling time.
As for you single peeps…OWN this day as well! Grab that cheesecake, throw on your warm fuzzy, ugly old pajamas, grab a fork and open up that favorite book for a relaxing evening with no stress. 🙂
I’ve been slacking this month as holiday events bog me down a bit.
But for your reading pleasure (I hope)…
Contemporary Lovers—A Christmas of Coal and Mistletoe
(From Storm Moon Press)
Cathy’s hit that ‘married for so long’ slump and coupled with the news she can’t have children, grows distant and confused in her marriage. When her adoring husband Dan surprises her with a Twelve Days of Christmas trip, she hopes this might be the fix she’s been looking for.
All is well and spicy complete with Partridges in Pear Trees—or at least, owls on totems poles—until a cryptic text arrives on his cell.
A text that might end their marriage for good.
But a tragic freeway accident has Cathy re-evaluating what’s most important in life. As things become midnight clear, the only question left is whether she is too late, or if just maybe she’ll get all she wants for Christmas after all.
NOTE- Will be available Amazon and other retailers sometime this week.
For you Paranormal Romance Lovers—It Came Upon a Midnight Dream
(From Shara Azod, LLC)
It Came Upon a Midnight…Tiger?
Zhara heard tale of Sugar Plum Dreams and even of Nutcrackers…but nothing prepared her for the White Tiger which haunted her dreams in the most erotic of fashions. Too bad dreams aren’t real.
Or can Christmas Wishes come true?
NOTE- Coming Soon to other Fine Ebook retailers as well.
What happens when a blind date turns into an inferno?
Pray for an updraft.
And a smoking hot fireman who’ll stoke the flames rather than extinguish.
Twisting things up a bit, I’m not posting an excerpt about the good guy…but instead, the bad.
Had Jeanine, her roommate and bestie since high school days, not dared her to meet during the middle of freaking winter for a blind date, she wouldn’t be standing here mortified as hell. Kat never accepted offers for blind dates. Never. No exceptions. With Jeanine acting a little depressed, Kat hadn’t the heart to turn down her plea, that eventually became a dare for her to agree and join them. So here she stood jerking the flimsy fabric of her dress down as eagle-eyed drunks scanned the expanse of leg peeking from beneath. Hell, they’d already seen her ass and thong, what was a little thigh at this point?
Since her breakup with Sir Peckerhead, Kat had been in a major funk. If nothing else, PH had been seriously creative in bed. Sure, he had the attention span of a gnat and never spoke about a future, but most guys ran from such topics. Kat figured as time went on, things would change. Truth be known, Kat wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wanted long-term. At least not with PH–Pecker Head, as Jeanine had dubbed him. But when PH put the look on–the intense, I want to fuck expression–damned if her hormones didn’t send her running, shedding her clothes as she went.
Her ex happened to be a tall Adonis with a super sized ego to match his large frame. Thing was, Paul sported more than one large head. Their last interlude should have clued her something was amiss. Paul tried a few new moves, suggesting she play with her vibrator while he watched. Not uncommon, but the urgency in which he begged to video her as she did, well, that set her danger to high alert. Not enough to make her quit her task. Her little neon pink friend amply aided her in prepping for Paul and his not-so-normal size.
He’d grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the end of the bed then tossed her over his shoulder. Kat thought he’d head them toward the shower, but instead he opened up first the bedroom door, then the patio doors, not even caring if Jeanine was home or had company. Kat sensed the difference about him. As he urged her against the banister, buried his head between her legs with the sounds of car horns and chatter not far enough away for her liking, she’d started to protest. But hello, who wants to stop a dude when he’s eating Southern? Not her. He’d flipped her around in the next second and taken her from behind. His arm pulled her waist to cant her hips for optimum entry.
The push, stretch and eventual slide on a forceful thrust. Yeah the sex was hot. Different, even. After they’d both climaxed, he’d pecked her cheek, headed for the shower and thirty minutes later he was gone from her life.
Get for .99 cents from SharaAzod.com here: http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/updraft.html
Happy Hump Day!
Please Welcome: Daryl Devore
Blurb: What’s a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?
Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.
Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he’s desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents – a fantasy.
Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?
Good morning Daryl, so glad you made some time to swing by. So, let’s start this right off. You have a new release. What’s it called?
Daryl: Capri’s Fate
What’s it about?
Daryl: Capri goes to a sex toy convention and here’s a mysterious voice. The voice follows her home and the fun begins. By the end of the book, Capri has ended up in Indonesia, met a dragon, got swept away by a tsunami and was charged with corporate espionage.
How did you come up with the idea?
Daryl: Oh I don’t come up with the ideas. My character’s do.
What makes a perfect read for you?
Daryl: A British murder mystery. One full of right proper dialogue and wonderful descriptions and fleshed-out characters.
Favorite or most wished place to write?
Daryl: In a hammock, stretched out between to palm trees on a secluded beach, next to the ocean with fresh sea breeze blowing and hot cabana boys bringing me cold Diet cokes and dark chocolates.
What’s the one word you use that makes you blush when using? Any? Some authors have a word or giggle phrase that causes them to ponder using.
Daryl: I think I’m over it. I’ve named every genital I know of. But if you truly want a giggle word – testicle. It’s tickles the mouth when you say it.
Is it in the book?
Daryl: Hmmm – don’t think so. I’d have to do a word search to find out. Yes it is! Twice.
Anything you want to tell us about the book?
Daryl: Capri is unique. Editor said – don’t do it. I did it anyway. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, hey I tried. Sometimes you gotta get out of the box and try something.
Okay-Speed Round, old school style. Just for shits and giggles.
Daryl-Don’t even know his name. Grade 13 student when I was in grade 9. I knew where is locker was, but not his name. (High school in Ontario used to go from gr 9 to 13. We don’t use names like Freshman, Sophmore.)
Biggest blooper to date?(C’mon, we all had one)
Daryl-Ask me that in a year and I’ll tell you cause it’s a really good one.
Daryl-Not really a crush, but at the moment kinda liking any movie Daniel Craig is in.
True Blood or Vampire Diaries?
Daryl- Neither – my favourite vampire is Angel
Angels or Demons?
Daryl-in true Canadian fence-sitting style – both!
Alright–now that we’ve had a peek inside the mind of Daryl, how about a peek inside Capri’s Fate.
Excerpt –Needing a cup of coffee to slap awake my drowsy brain cells, I hopped off the bed and padded toward the bedroom door. As I reached for the doorknob, I paused and turned my head. My most formal—meaning stupidly expensive designed by a top New York fashionista—evening gown was resting on the chair in the corner. I purchased it the previous year to wear to the Governor’s Ball and haven’t worn it since.
As I lifted it off the chair, to hang it back in my closet, a folded paper fluttered down. I caught it, unfolded it and read—Thall requests the honor of your presence at dinner. R.S.V.P.
I tossed the paper onto my dresser. “Sorry, can’t do dinner. I have work to do. I didn’t work my ass off in college then fight my way up the corporate ladder to lose my job because of a voice.” I grabbed the doorknob, twisted and pulled. The door didn’t budge. “Stupid door.” I tried again. “Did you lock me in my room?”
There was no reply. I kicked the door. Remember I said I needed coffee to wake up sleeping brain cells? Well, the cells that were asleep were obviously the ones that would have said kicking the door was a dumb thing to do.
Hobbling back to my bed, I sat on the edge and checked for broken toes. The paper floated across the room and landed beside me. I picked it up and waved it randomly about in the air. “So this really isn’t a cute invite, but more of a decree. You know, By Royal Command.“
“Is that a yes?” His voice swirled around me like a gust of a hot summer breeze.
“Guess it has to be if I want coffee.”
The paper poofed into oblivion and a steaming cup of java settled onto my night table. “Skim milk?”
“Hint of cinnamon?”
“Okay, you win.” I picked up the mug and sipped brewed Columbian heaven.
After dressing, putting on my makeup and weaving my hair in a quick French braid, I walked through my kitchen and into my dining room. Except…it wasn’t my dining room.
I paused. As far as I could tell, in the past twenty-four hours, I had spoken with an invisible voice that says it is one of the Fates, purchased a bunch of sex toys, which I would never, ever do. What would mother say! And had somehow flown to a tropical isle where I had the most luxurious massage in a hut on a beach, and then had the most incredible sexual experience ever in the whole length of recorded human existence. And still, here I was a bit surprised to find my dining room had been replaced with a sultan’s tent.
Really? How cliché can you get?
Two flutes of champagne filled with sparkling bubbly rested on what used to be my dining room table. Now, it was a banquet table with a centerpiece that must have emptied the local florist shop. At this end of the table, on a snow white tablecloth rested gleaming gold dishes and sparkling crystal wine goblets. Four forks rested beside each plate. Four? I can figure out two, salad and dinner. Only two chairs were present. Guess we weren’t having company.
Mounds of bright pillows lay scattered about in little sitting nooks. The ceiling was covered in brilliant hues of Iris purple, Orchid blue, Rose red and Tulip yellow silk swathes, stretching from the center out to the wall then draping to the floor.
The room was softly lit, casting a romantic atmosphere. A bit creepy as there was no source of the light. No candles. No lamps. Just light that increased or faded as I wandered about.
A breeze tickled the back of my neck. I turned.
He appeared. He didn’t enter. He just appeared dressed in a black tux. Tall, with smiling eyes and a sexy grin. How did he know? The rule is, if you can’t get a man in a uniform, put him in a tux—a black tux with a bow tie—then rip it off of him. Okay, maybe my hormones are still on edge.
Thanks for stopping by and to keep up with Daryl, follow her on;
or her website: http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com