Celebrate vamps! with Suz deMello

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog

Beltane just passed and the advent of spring is a reason to celebrate.

Not so for my heroine Natasha Desmond, who has fled to the Scottish Highlands–her wicked stepbrother seeks to institutionalize her and seize control over the family fortune

Today’s Sunday Snog focuses on Natasha and her lover. After hearing legends about the local vampires–and finding two small wounds in her neck after a night in the castle–the question in her mind: is he or isn’t he?

After drinks, dinner and more teasing, Garrett walked me to my car. “’Tis a dark night.” He tilted his head to look at the clouds, which obscured the moon and stars. “I’ll drive with ye to the castle, just to make sure ye don’t lose your way.”

“What about your car?” I opened the passenger door for him.

A Scottish vamp… What could be better!

I got in the car, started it and headed out of the village. “How did you get here?”

“Walked.” He gave me a jaunty smile. “There wasna much to do up at the castle, so I spent the day hiking.”

“Are there good trails hereabouts?”

“Och, yes. Many. Some along the cliffs, some through the glen, some along the beach.” He gestured at me to turn up the narrow road to the castle.

“That sounds fun,” I said.

“I can think of something that’s more fun.”

I stopped the car at the gatehouse, turned and gave him what I hoped was a seductive smile. “What?”

“This.” He leaned toward me, cupped the back of my head in his palm and drew me close. His kiss was a scorching promise of ecstasy. He

tasted like the custard we’d shared for dessert, tasty and completely irresistible. Enraptured, I sucked on his tongue with delight and swirled my tongue in his mouth.

I pulled up his sweater to again explore his body, enjoying the hard planes, the sinew overlaying solid bone. His skin was hot and a little sultry, no doubt from the warm, crowded pub. I rimmed his nipple with a fingernail, and he moaned deep in his throat.

The many facets of this man enthralled me. Last night, he’d been remote, almost discouraging as I’d sought shelter in his castle. When he’d made love to me in my romantic canopied bed, his touch had been cool and controlled, but now he was hotter than August in Los Angeles.

He pulled away and shoved open the passenger door, almost stumbling in his haste. He strode around the hood and yanked open my door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

Grabbing my hand, he led me to the gatehouse, down a short hall and into what I guessed was the living room, or the sitting room as they called it in Britain. While he pulled me along, he was tugging at my clothes, taking off my turtleneck, scrabbling for my jeans’ zipper. My hands were no less idle, and by the time we reached the sitting room, we were both naked, our underwear strewn on the carpet underfoot.

Like what you read? Buy it here:

http://tinyurl.com/HighlandVampHQ

Your blog hostess: 

Sue Swift/Suz deMello

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift

Check out her group Facebook page, Hot Writers, Hotter Books at www.facebook.com/HotWriters

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

 

 

Something Naughty…reading, gifts and more!

 

I’m the proud participant in a blog hop hosted by erotic romance authors Lisabet Sarai and Jennifer Wright.

FMI http://tinyurl.com/naughty-bloghop, but if you participate by commenting on any one of the blogs listed below, you’re in the running for the following:

**A $60 gift certificate to Eden’s Fantasies, where you can buy many naughty toys  http://www.edenfantasys.com/

**A $25 gift certificate to any one of the following: Total-E-Bound, Amazon, All About Romance Ebooks, or Barnes and Noble. Two $25 gift certificates will be randomly awarded.

If you comment on my blog, you may get a free ebook–anything in my digital booklist, your choice–that would be Suz deMello’s or Sue Swift’s digital booklists.

Here’s my “something naughty” post. It’s from Temptation in Tartan, best-selling vampire historical erotica:

Blurb:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

She was wrong.

****

Published by Ellora’s Cave in June 2012, Temptation in Tartan reached #1 on the All Romance Ebooks bestseller list for historical (other) romance and spent a full week in the top five. Its sequel, Desire in Tartan, will be released later this year.

Here’s the very naughty excerpt:

She examined him with an intent gaze. “You mean… Milaird was wrong?”

“Aye. I was wrong.”

“The great Kieran Kilborn was wrong?” His wife’s eyes widened. One eyebrow lifted, and she gave him a wide, disbelieving smile edged with mockery.

“Now, Lydia.” On his side, he tucked an arm beneath his head.

“P’raps the sun has risen in the west, or the sheep fly and instead, birds crop the grass. I must check.” She rose from the bed, wincing a little. He watched her bonny pink arse twitch as she pranced over to one of the arrow slits and peered out.

When she returned, she held lengths of the worn linen they used as towels. She again smiled at him.

He distrusted that impish smile, accompanied as it was by twinkling eyes.

“So,” she said. “Kieran was wrong. Kieran’s been a naughty fellow indeed.” She took his arm by the wrist and brought it to the bedpost above his head, and wrapped a strip of linen around both, binding him.

Bold she was, and lust curled deep in his belly. His prick twitched with dawning arousal. “I daresay I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”

“Oh, yes.” She took another linen strip, rolled him onto his back and trussed the other hand high.

Then she walked away from him. What did she have in mind?

She had evidently learned a’plenty during the few weeks they’d been married.

She dipped a third swatch of fabric into a ewer of water, and let the chilly liquid drip onto his chest, then swished it back and forth from nipple to nipple.  They tightened into taut little kernels, and his cock jumped, stiff and hard as an oaken club.

Her smile broadened. “I like this,” she said.

So do I, he thought, but made a show of struggling against his bonds. “Lydia—”

She chuckled, and slid the cold, wet linen down his belly to his staff. Despite the temperature, despite his already intense arousal, he thickened and lengthened.

“I wonder…” she said meditatively, scrutinizing his cock. She ran the cloth through her fingers and smiled.

She rubbed him with the wet linen, and despite the chill, he swelled. She tickled his rod so it became even harder, then wrapped his member in the fabric until only the broad, round head was exposed. With each caress of her clever wee hands and each touch of the soft, damp towel, he grew bigger and more aroused until he was about to explode.

Bending over, she gave him a little flick of her tongue and he groaned, his hips jolting up.

She laughed. “How does that feel?” She kissed his cockhead again, opening her mouth wide to encompass all of his roundness. Lightning flashed through him and he wondered if his trapped flesh was going to burst.

She gave him a little nip and he started violently.

“I asked you a question.” Her voice was cool and even. She nibbled on him again.

He jerked up, hoping to force his rod further into her mouth and p’raps get some relief, but she was too quick for him, and the wicked bond holding his cock kept him on the boundary between pleasure and pain. He couldna come until she chose to release him.

He was hers to control, utterly. “Lydia, please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please! I’m afeared this will do me harm.”

“Really? As much as a beating?”

“Are ye angry with me?”

“Nay, husband, but what’s sauce for the goose…” She left the remainder of the quote unsaid.

“What would ye have me say or do?”

She ran her hand over his ballocks and they contracted. He was frantic to shoot his load, and writhed on the sheets.

“You’re mine, do you hear?” She tugged on his cock.

“That was never in question!”

“You’re my slave as much as I am yours. Admit it!”

He tossed his body from side to side. “Yes! Yea!” He sensed the justice of her actions and didna want to fight her. And he’d give up one of his balls to come.

“Very well, then.” She tugged away the binding and then pinched the base of his rod, hard.

A blast of pure pain shot through him and he clamped down on his frustrated shout. She climbed atop him to rub her slick cunny over his cock, and he was instantly ready again. He twitched with need, pushing his rod upward toward her slit.

Kneeling, she lifted up then dropped down, her magnificent breasts bobbing. His cockhead lodged inside her, and he groaned with need and relief. She liked what she was doing, he reckoned, because the walls of her quim were fluttering and clenching. Tight, hot and wet…She eased down onto him and he thought mayhap he’d died and gone to heaven.

He shouted, “Rach air muin!” and came in thick jets, coating her channel. He lifted his hips and thrust until he hit the barrier of her womb.

She took all he had, bearing down on him so her pearl slid against him, taking her pleasure as he took his. She flung her head back as she came, riding him like a stallion, gripping his shoulders for support. The little stabs of her fingernails drove him higher, and he swiveled his hips, swirling his cock inside her. With a gasp, she collapsed over his chest. Her splendid breasts caressed his nipples, shooting him into ecstasy one more time.

Minutes later, she stirred, then reached up and released his wrists. He grabbed her in a tight embrace, locking her to him without restraint, taking her mouth in a deep kiss. Their tongues tangled, warred, played … eased into gentler loving.

They lay side by side, regarding each other, startled, sated and pleased. He looked into the warm chocolate depths of her eyes, seeking and finding her soul. His gaze rested within hers for a long while. Gradually, her breaths and his slowed, evened and matched.

Like what you read? Buy it here:

http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html

Remember, if you leave a comment, you might just get it for free, or win another of the gifts.

Your blog hostess:

Sue Swift/Suz deMello

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift

She tweets her book picks @ReadThis4fun

PARTICIPATING AUTHORS in this blog hop…remember, each comment on any blog increases your chances to win!

Adriana Kraft Adriana Kraft	Alisha Paige/Ruby Vines Addicted to Genre Bending	Ann Cory Ann Cory
Cassandra Carr Hot Blogging with Heart	Cherie Noel Great Expectations	Diane Thorne Diane Thorne – Erotic Romance Author
Donna George Storey Sex, Food, and Writing	Donna Michaels Romaginative Fiction-Donna’s Dish	Elise VanCise Gladiator’s Pen
Harlie Williams Harlie Williams, Writer	Helena Harker Open the Door to Your Fantasies	Jennifer Wright Jennifer Wright’s Blog
Justus Roux Where Love and Erotic Know No Boundaries	Kayelle Allen Unstoppable Heroes	Kelli Scott Lip Service
Kendall McKenna Love and Dog Tags	Lisabet Sarai Beyond Romance	Lisa Carlisle Lisa Carlisle’s News
Lyndi Lamont Lyndi’s Love Notes	M. S. Spencer M. S. Spencer Tale Spinner	Marie Sexton Marie Sexton
May Water May Water’s Erotica	Michelle Moon Ink Dipped Moon	Mona Karel Mona Karel Blog
Naomi Bellina Naomi Bellina Adventurous Erotic Romance	Nicole Morgan Bringing Passion To Life	Rose Anderson Calliopes Writing Tablet
Roz Lee Roz Lee	S. Dora S. Dora	Sapphire Phelan Sapphire Phelan’s Passion Corner
Stormie Kent Stormie Kent’s Musings	Suz deMello Fearless, Fast-paced Fiction	Synithia Williams Synithia Williams
Victoria Pinder Victoria Pinder Romance Author	Virginia Nelson Virginia Nelson, Author

A Scottish Snog: from Temptation in Tartan by Suz deMello

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog

Today’s snog is from my #1 bestseller (according to ARE at least—their historical-other list).

Temptation in Tartan is about a young English lady who found herself in a bit of a mess:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

available at http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

She was wrong.

Lydia and Kieran, Laird Kilborn, do end up enjoying their HEA but it was a rough road.

Here’s their kiss. Did I mention that it’s not on the mouth?

“Ye look right funny with yer mouth open like that.”

She shut it with a snap.

“Ye know what a man likes to do with a lassie’s open mouth, don’t ye?”

“Kiss it?”

“Nay.”

“Um, put his tongue into it?”

He stood, unlaced his trews and took out his cock, running his fingers along its already nerve-wracking size. He smoothed away a fleshy covering to reveal a thick, rigid pole.

She gaped.

“Exactly so, me wife. Shall we try this?”

His voice was soft and supplicating. Reassured, she managed a nod. Her gaze remained fixed on his thickening member as he pulled off boots and stockings, shirt and trews.

Her gaze flashed up to his chest, muscular, white-skinned and furred with black curls, then back to his cock, and down. His legs were as hard and brawny as the rest of him, with the shapely calves she remembered from the first time they’d met.

His member again seized her attention. She was fascinated by his tool, framed as it was by a thick bed of black hair.  “I, er, I’ve never known anyone who could divest himself of his clothes so quickly.”

“Ye’re a lass of limited experience, but ye’ll not hear me complain.”

Reaching for her ankles, he tugged them down, then arranged a pillow beneath her head, elevating it for…what?

“Ye seem right curious about my friend, here.” He fondled his rigid length, its vivid color a contrast with the pale skin that covered the rest of his muscular body.

“Er, yes.”

“Explore all ye wish, me bonny wife. He’s yours to use as ye will.” Kieran climbed back onto the bed, kneeling with one knee on either side of her torso. He smiled down at her.

She reached with a hesitant finger and touched the tip. Firm, round and red. She stroked, and from beneath the surface smoothness a hard core jutted into her hand.

“Oh!” She jerked her fingers away.

He replaced them. “He often does seem to have a mind of his own, but I try to think with the one in me head.” He gave her his impish grin.

She smiled back and gave him a hesitant squeeze.

Sucking in a breath, he closed his eyes. Encouraged, she squeezed more firmly and then ran her fingertips up and down, watching and listening as well as feeling. A musky aroma mingled with Kieran’s usual fresh scent and her roses. She leaned forward to sniff his privates and inhaled deeply, her nose nuzzling his cods.

His cock, swaying, bumped against her cheek and she used her lips and tongue to move it away. Another indrawn breath from her husband, this one louder. Interesting. She turned her head to one side and again put her mouth to his shaft.

“Yesssss….”

Aha. She slid her lips up and down his length, eliciting a groan. She hoped it was a happy groan, and looked up to see Kieran’s eyes closed with an ecstatic expression on his face.

If you like what you read, and are interested in more, here’s a buy link:

http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html

Sue Swift/Suz deMello

Here’s where you can find all my erotica:

https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello

And here’s a little bit about me:

Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

***A very different Sunday snog: games people always played

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog

It’s hard to conceive of people’s lives in the eighteenth century. Yet, despite an abundance of new technologies affecting everything from the moment we’re born until the second we draw our last breath, people still do the same things: we eat, sleep and make love. And ways of lovemaking haven’t changed much except for the vibrator.. I’m guessing that in the eighteenth century, people played the same bedroom games we do.

Here’s a selection from Temptation in Tartan, set in the mid-eighteenth century.

“You mean… Milaird was wrong?”

“Aye. I was wrong.”

“The great Kieran Kilborn was wrong?” His wife’s eyes widened. One eyebrow lifted, and she gave him a wide, disbelieving smile edged with mockery.

“Now, Lydia.” On his side, he tucked an arm beneath his head.

“P’raps the sun has risen in the west, or the sheep fly and instead, birds crop the grass. I must check.” She rose from the bed, wincing a little. He watched her bonny pink arse twitch as she pranced over to one of the arrow slits and peered out.

available at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

When she returned, she held lengths of the worn linen they used as towels. She again smiled at him.

He distrusted that impish smile, accompanied as it was by twinkling eyes.

“So,” she said. “Kieran was wrong. Kieran’s been a naughty fellow indeed.” She took his arm by the wrist and brought it to the bedpost above his head, and wrapped a strip of linen around both, binding him.

Bold she was, and lust curled deep in his belly. His prick twitched with dawning arousal. “I daresay I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”

“Oh, yes.” She took another linen strip, rolled him onto his back and trussed the other hand high.

Then she walked away from him. What did she have in mind?

She had evidently learned a’plenty during the few weeks they’d been married.

She dipped a third swatch of fabric into a ewer of water, and let the chilly liquid drip onto his chest, then swished it back and forth from nipple to nipple.  They tightened into taut little kernels, and his cock jumped, stiff and hard as an oaken club.

Her smile broadened. “I like this,” she said.

So do I, he thought, but made a show of struggling against his bonds. “Lydia—”

She chuckled, and slid the cold, wet linen down his belly to his staff. Despite the temperature, despite his already intense arousal, he thickened and lengthened.

“I wonder…” she said meditatively, scrutinizing his cock. She ran the cloth through her fingers and smiled.

She rubbed him with the wet linen, and despite the chill, he swelled. She tickled his rod so it became even harder, then wrapped his member in the fabric until only the broad, round head was exposed. With each caress of her clever wee hands and each touch of the soft, damp towel, he grew bigger and more aroused until he was about to explode.

Bending over, she gave him a little flick of her tongue and he groaned, his hips jolting up.

She laughed. “How does that feel?” She kissed his cockhead again, opening her mouth wide to encompass all of his roundness. Lightning flashed through him and he wondered if his trapped flesh was going to burst.

She gave him a little nip and he started violently.

Like what you read? Buy it here:

https://www.amazon.com/author/suzdemello

And here’s a little bit about me:

Best-selling, award-winning author Sue Swift, a.k.a Suz deMello, has written over fifteen novels, plus several short stories and non-fiction articles. She writes in numerous genres including romance, mystery, paranormal, historical, contemporary comedy and erotica. She’s a freelance editor who’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, Liquid Silver

Sue Swift/Suz deMello

Books and Etopia Press. She also takes on private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in PW, Kirkus and Booklist, attained the finals of the RITA and hot several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, she resides in northern California. Her passion is world travel, and she’s left the US over a dozen times, including stints working overseas for many months. Right now, she’s working on her next manuscript and planning her next trip.

Her blog is at http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com. Find her reading picks @ReadThis4fun on Twitter, and befriend her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/SueSwift ). Her sites are at http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com.

Meeting the Lucky Seven Challenge!

She got me! That is, Victoria Blisse tagged me to participate in the Lucky Seven blog challenge, open only to writers. Here’s how it works: You go to your work in progress, head to page 7 or 77, count down 7 lines, then post the next seven sentences, no matter what they are.

So here’s a selection from Desire in Tartan, the sequel to Temptation in Tartan. It takes place just after the hero and the heroine have become handfasted.

It’s gonna be a hot wedding night!

“Stand up and take off your clothes.” His voice had taken on a shard of steel running through it.

“What?”

“Ye heard me. Take off your clothes, every stitch. You’ve done a great wrong, me wife, and ye’ll be punished for it.”

She stared at him open-mouthed.

It’s June–how about a Scottish wedding snog?

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog

This wedding snog comes from my bestselling (oh, how I LOVE that word!) book Temptation in Tartan. This isn’t too much of a spoiler, for the marriage of convenience occurs early in the story.

But first, here’s what the book is about:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

She was wrong.

And here’s the snog:

The tiny chapel had been a good choice on her mother’s part. Without the attendance of family and friends, using any of the larger, more popular churches would have been frightful. Set offside the main kirk, the chapel, with only a tapestry depicting Christ’s birth, was by contrast cozy, comfortably holding the few attendees: Lydia’s cousin, her mother, plus Kieran’s cousin Dugald Kilborn. Kier’s cousin shared what she guessed were family traits: tall form, dark hair and that strange, pale skin. P’raps the Highlands weren’t sunny.

The local cleric stumbled over the words of the standard Church of England ceremony, and Lydia guessed that her mother had insisted upon the ritual that was familiar to her rather than what local custom preferred. Then the fellow

available at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

spoke a few words in Gaelic and asked her to do the same. She obeyed, stumbling over the unfamiliar sibilants.

She cast a frightened glance at Kieran, hoping he wasn’t angry. She hadn’t meant to mock his people…their people. But he watched her, the slight smile curving his lips the sole betrayal of his mood. His eyes twinkled reassuringly before one lid dropped, an unmistakable wink.

She completely lost the thread of what the priest had said and stopped speaking. Instead she simply stood there and stared at him, blinking in confusion.

His grin stretched wider and he picked up where she’d left off, repeating the Gaelic with calm certainty. He took her hand and placed his wrist next to hers. His skin felt cool and a little damp, as though he were sweating with nerves, but his face showed no hint of anxiety.

The cleric wrapped cloth around their wrists and their hands were even closer. Despite the tightness of the binding, he turned his forearm to grasp her fingers. His hold was firm and determined.

She looked down. His hand and hers were pale as dawn,  indistinguishable in color. Where did she end and Kieran begin?

His fingers tightened, and she relished that, noticing his size and strength compared to hers.

Gasps came from the onlookers and again she blinked, confused. Then she noticed that the bright swatch of fabric that the cleric had twisted around them was tartan. It bore two shades of blue crisscrossed by bright yellow and red stripes.

Forbidden, but Kieran had dared.

She met his eyes again and he leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. “I couldna resist yer dowry, kylyrra.”

His breath tickled her ear. Then he shifted to kiss first her forehead, then her cheek and mouth, just as he had before, giving her an extra buss on the lips. Affectionate rather than blatantly lustful, and she liked that.

Then he raised their bound hands high and kissed the back of hers. His dark eyes surveyed her with a serious regard and even a little possessive pride. “Yer mine, now.”

That evoked a shiver. But why?

Published by Ellora’s Cave earlier this month, Temptation in Tartan reached #1 on the All Romance Ebooks bestseller list for historical (other) romance and spent a full week in the top five. Its sequel, Desire in Tartan, is in process.

For more of Sue Swift/Suz deMello’s books, check out her sites. They can be reached from http://www.sue-swift.com and http://www.suzdemello.com

 

 

 

Anatomy of a Hasty Book Launch

Two of my books, one a new book and the other a reprint–were published a few days ago, on June first.

I’d known for quite some time that Walk Like A Manwould be released that day, but received the final file the day before and the book cover on the day the book was published. Needless to day, that created a number of issues regarding

Walk Like A Man
http://tinyurl.com/6mn6hr9

promo.

As for Temptation in Tartan, Ellora’s Cave surprised me by giving me a pub date within a couple weeks of turning in the edited manuscript. And I found out by looking at the site (!?). Not ideal.

But after freaking out for a couple of minutes, I swung into action and emailed everyone I knew (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but you get the picture) and asked if they’d help me with a blog tour.

Authors are wonderful. Within minutes (and this is not an exaggeration) a number of people had responded, and I thank them all so very very much:

Catherine Cavendish

http://www.catherinecavendish.com/2012/06/vampire-clan-wages-war-in-highlands.html

Crystal Kauffman

http://crystalkauffman.blogspot.com/

Linda Andrews

http://lindaandrews.wordpress.com/2012/06/01/temptation-in-tartan-by-sue-venice/

Maria-Claire Payne

http://maria-clairepayne.com/will-his-bride-say-i-do-or-bite-me-welcome-suz-demello

Victoria Blisse

http://victoriablisse.co.uk/blog/suz-demello-blog-swap

Lisabet Sarai

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2012/06/temptation-in-tartan.html

available at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

And upcoming:

sensualreads.com

Fayth Devlin

Morgen Bailey

Viajera del Mar

Maggie Nash

Mary Hughes

Sue Lyndon

Romancing the Genres

…and more!

Not bad for an off-the-cuff effort. Then I discovered a wonderful group of writers who will trade such things as Amazon likes and tags, FB posts and twitter feeds. I also asked my friends to help, and I’m gratified to say that a lot of people responded. Who helped me? Almost impossible to list but I’ll try:

Cindy Spencer-Pape, Regina Duke, Patricia Kay, Debra Holland, Nina Pierce, Linda Golden, Sylvia McDaniel, P.O.

Dixon, Elysa Hendricks, Donna Tunney, Helen Scott Taylor, Linda McLaughlin, Felice Fox, Thea Hutcheson, Suzanne Welsh, Leanne Tyler, Marie Higgins, Cindy Woolf, Carolynn Carey, TC Archer, Misty Dietz, Marika Weber, Cyndi Faria, Pamela Turner, Kristy Swords.

I also sent everyone who helped me an individual email if I could. If I’ve left anyone out I do apologize.

So we’ll see when the royalty statements come in if all this activity has helped! I think it has. Already Temptation in Tartan has reached and maintained a solid Amazon sales ranking, which is great for a book that appeared on Amazon late (ugh) and without a cover (double ugh). I”m working on these issues right now.

BTW…if anyone out there thinks (1) a career as a writer is easy money, or (2) your job as a writer is done when you’ve finished the manuscript…this blog should tell you that you’re sadly mistaken. There’s nothing easy about this job, and not a day goes by that I contemplate doing something easier, like, say, digging ditches with my teeth or cleaning toilets at a truckstop.

Happy Release Day!

Not one but TWO books are released today.

Available June 1 from Ellora’s Cave

Here’s the 4-1-1:

Re: Temptation in Tartan:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

She was wrong.

Buy the book at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

Walk Like A Man

And there’s also Walk Like A Man:

Macho quarterback Jim Wellman meets his match in bright and sassy physical therapist Marti Solis, who goads him out of his wheelchair, pushing him to walk again. Unlike every other woman Jim has wanted, she refuses to jump into the sack with the celebrity athlete. Though attracted to his bedroom smile and rugged good looks, she’s intimidated by his fame and turned off by his arrogance.

Can Jim become the lover Marti needs? Can he learn to walk like a man?

Set in California’s beautiful Napa Valley, this multicultural romance delivers humor and pathos, sparkling dialogue, layered characters, a heroine to root for and a hero who’s pure fantasy.

 Buy the book at http://tinyurl.com/6mn6hr9

I hope you love my books!

**Sunday Snog: Kiss of the Vampire. Or Not.**

Thank you, Victoria Blisse, for continuing to provide this showcase.

Today I have for you a snippet from my forthcoming novel, Temptation in Tartan, which will be published by Ellora’s Cave on June 1.

Here’s what it’s about:

She had to marry a monster…

Rumors had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.

But English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.

The old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new young Laird would lack his ancestors’ ferocity.

 She was wrong.

And here’s the snog:

Edinburgh, 1747

Lydia looked at the man who’d accosted her. How had she failed to notice him before? Bold he was despite his sober dress. Wigless, his straight hair was unfashionably long and darker than a moonless midnight. However, his apparel would rival that of the most stylish London dandy. He wore black, which would have seemed funereal but for the richness of the fine velvet. Lace lavishly trimmed his cuffs, falling over his strong hands like spider webs over granite. Stocking-clad calves, exposed beneath black breeches, were finely turned and muscular.

His eyes also matched his garb, while his skin formed a stark contrast. Though quite pale, he was unusually attractive. His subdued attire couldn’t hide the girth of his chest and his potent masculinity. Taller than the other men in the room, he dominated the space around him.

“Yes, I’d like that,” she said. Widowhood had compensations, and one of them was being able to walk alone with a gentleman without incurring the censure of society…or of her mother, who was gossiping with a newfound friend.

His sudden smile was like the sun breaking through clouds. He opened the glass door and the breeze swirling through lifted strands of his hair that had worked loose from the dark ribbon at his nape. Lydia was seized by the absurd desire to stroke back those wayward locks. She fluttered her fan to conceal her nervousness.

The mysterious stranger took her free hand and led her into the garden surrounding the Menhardie mansion. The broad summer moon cast shadows that shifted with the breeze, so she could see little but could scent much—the fragrance of plants and newly turned earth, the attar of roses she’d touched to her pulse points and, daringly, between her breasts. Most of all, she drew in the male aroma of the stranger who’d taken possession of her hand, a scent reminiscent of midnight and secret longings.

He led her deeper into the knot garden. Trees, swishing in the breeze, blocked the manse from her view. She inhaled sharply, realizing she’d walked willingly, alone, with a man she knew nothing about, into what was not only a compromising position but possibly a dangerous one.

As though he sensed her fear, he released her hand. “Would ye wish to sit?” He waved his hand at a stone bench.

She touched it with a forefinger. Moisture seeped through her glove.

“Dinnae fash yerself.” The stranger sat and held out his arms. “Come here.”

Available June 1 from Ellora’s Cave

She hesitated. “I’m affianced. ‘Twould offend my new husband.”

“No one can see us, and I’m just asking ye to sit.” His gaze was not merely open and guileless, but oddly compelling.

He seemed so kind, and her worries so silly, that she complied, moving closer. He reached for her waist to help her arrange her skirts and panniers. Finally she’d settled onto his lap, sitting crossways so she was looking at his chiseled features, distinct in the moonlight, as pale as new milk.

A strange energy thrummed through her body. She was acutely aware of the firm, muscular thighs beneath her, for she had never sat on a man’s lap before. Neither her father nor her husband had asked for or taken this intimacy. Did she like it? She wasn’t sure and became even less sure when the stranger, who had one arm touching her waist already, slid his other wide palm up her calf toward her knee.

Though his touch sent a tremor of desire shafting through her being, it unnerved her even more. She squirmed but he held her fast.

“Lassie, what worries ye?”

“You are taking liberties, sir, and we…haven’t been introduced.” What a stupid thing to have said. He must think her a fool. But what did it matter? She’d never see him again.

He chuckled. “Let’s just say that I’m a man who finds you quite alluring.”

Alluring. Lydia blinked. William had never said that.

“Remember, I’m affianced.”

“Ye’re here with me. Do ye love him?”

She cleared her throat. “We’ve never met.”

“Then ye’re sharing a stolen moment with a man you…dare I say a man you like?” He flirted, but his voice held a dark timbre that seduced her soul. And yet a note of humor, kindness even, tinctured his tone.

She hesitated, then looked into his eyes and was immediately calmed. She said, “Yes. You may dare.”

“And what else may I dare?” The hand on her leg rose to her face to play with a curl, stroke her cheek. She quivered and her breasts swelled, her nipples rubbing against the lawn of her shift. Flesh for which she had no words, the secret place at the junction of her thighs, heated, tightened, moistened.

She shifted on his lap, opening her legs and leaning forward a trifle, and that sensitive, secret spot rubbed against his leg, bringing a charge of pleasure she hadn’t known before. She hid her gasp behind her fan.

He smiled at her, his eyes knowing… Did he understand how powerfully he affected her?

This was wrong, wrong. She had to stop.

“Your eyes are warm chocolate on a chilly day.” His voice was as soft as the breeze, as soft as his caress down her cheek to her mouth, which he traced. “Your lips are a temptation that I cannae resist.”

“You presume much, sir.”

“Aye, I do, but I feel I know your heart.”

If he knew her heart, then he knew it beat faster than a racing stallion’s hooves.

He inclined his head toward her. His lips were carved marble in the moon’s silver rays. “Ye desire me, do ye not?”

“Desire isn’t enough.” She’d desired William, and her marriage bed had been either empty of her husband or the scene of brief trysts devoid of pleasure. She wouldn’t be seduced by a handsome stranger. What for?

“Please.” He asked, but then he took. His mouth felt cool on hers but with a touch of fire beneath. That fire raced through her, igniting parts of her she hadn’t known could feel such heat, such rapture. She gasped again from sheer surprise, and something intruded between her lips… Before heaven, was that his tongue?

No, Lydia thought. This isn’t me.

She reached for his wrist to slide her fingers toward his elbow. She wrapped her hand around his arm and dug her thumb into the muscle just in front of the joint.

He yelped and jerked away, dumping her off his lap. She landed gracefully, stood and stepped back a pace.

“Good,” she said. “I must have hit just the right spot.”

His eyes were amazed. “Where did a lady like ye learn such a trick?”

“My brother taught me.” She couldn’t help shooting him a triumphant smile as she tucked her fan into her reticule.

He shouted with laughter. “Ye’ll do, yes, ye will! Ye’ll make a fine wife.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said stiffly.

He grinned at her. “I’m Kieran.”

She gaped at him.

“Kieran Kilborn,” he added helpfully. “The man ye’ll marry.”

*****

If you like the book, be sure to preorder it at:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10121-temptation-in-tartan.aspx

 

 

**Hey writers! Your vampires should suck, not your dialog**

Today I am the guest of the marvelous Maria-claire Payne, who allows me to exhort my fellow writers on the extremely important subject of dialog, using an example from Highland Vampire–this is Maria-Claire’s Merry Month of May I suck your____ promo.

http://maria-clairepayne.com/your-vampires-should-suck-not-your-dialog-welcome-sue-swift

I’ll be back at her blog next week with more about writing, vampires, and other scary stuff.