Featured Book

June 21, 2014

Coming Soon!!!!

July 24, 2014

Bailey and Gunn

Here’s the blurb!

Stare Her Down

As an expert rigger, Gunn is the logical Dom to represent the club in the all-important bondage competition that will help out his friend. He thought he had the sub for the job, until she quit on him. Now he has to find an ideal replacement immediately.

Bailey wants the perfect bikini bod to capture the affections of her monumental crush. After a few margaritas, which prompted some sketchy decisions, she thinks Gunn can help her shape up. Didn’t a Dom equal Drill Sergeant?

Through her humor and Gunn’s stoicism, they find a precarious balance until the scales get tipped, but not in her favor. By the time she realizes her mistake, that a Dom is anything but a personal trainer, it’s too late because she’s literally tied up in a mess of her own making.

Securely caught in the rigger’s tangle, will she be able to break free and claim what she always wanted, or will her sexy and strict Dom stare her down until she accepts the truth? He’s all she ever needed…

This is a stand alone story, but if you haven’t read the first Stare Down novel and would like to, check it out by clicking the picture below.


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Hey, If You Were Naked…

July 17, 2014


Imagine me lying flat on my back in the dark in bed. My eyes are closed and I did the old, Oh God this feels like heaven, sigh thing already, so of course my eyes pop open when I hear the rest of what Honey asks. Here’s the conversation.

“Hey, if you were naked and stranded on a deserted island with a stranger-a man- what would be the biggest obstacle you had to face?”

I didn’t even have to think about that. “Explaining it to you.”

He laughed and then went right back to being serious. “No, say I was good with it.”

“So, this is a big fantasy?”

“Sure, but the island isn’t. It’s a real place filled with all kinds of problem. So tell me. What would be your biggest threat?”

“Is the strange man naked too?”

“Yes, I thought I said that.”

“Nope, so I guess him.”

He sighs and then comes upon elbow and looks down at me. “He’s got more important things to do than trying to put the moves on.”

“Oh really?” I’m just yanking his chain at this point because, you know, it’s fun. “What could be more important to a guy than passing up a naked woman?”

“Surviving. Do you have an answer?”

I closed my eyes and pretended like this topic really interested me. New flash, in terms of interesting me? Yeah, that would be filed under I’d rather talk about the Argentine Lake duck. Probably a bad analogy as I would. Really. Did you know those drakes have penises that are as long as their bodies? 17 inches! It’s shaped like a corkscrew and not only does the end have a brush-like surface to swipe aside any previous mater’s intimate deposits *wink, wink* but if the female tries to run away from her new suitor it’s used to lasso her. That’s talent. But I digress. Back to Honey waiting for an answer. “Let’s see…If I were naked on a deserted island and sex was off the table I’d have to say I would want some thick leaves strapped to my feet and mud slathered all over my body. One,” I held up a finger, “for modesty, and two,” I made a peace sign, “it would deter the insects from eating me alive, I think.”

Wow, I probably should have told him the duck story, but then where had I learned those phenomenal need to know facts? Yep, Honey and his documentaries, so I guess I was pretty much screwed while I listened to him go in depth on the subject of surviving naked in the wild.

*insert me doing the grocery shopping list, picking an outfit to wear in the morning, working on Halloween costume ideas, birthday presents and trying to imagine how that small duck rolls that schlong up so it fits in his abdomen here* *sigh* Now I was completely at a loss when Honey said.

“Makes sense, right?”

I did the big yawn before I answered, “I guess. But then what do I have to worry about? If I’m ever stuck in the wild naked I’m sure you’ll be there and the most I’ll be worrying about is how long it’s taking you to light a fire, find food and build me a modest abode with indoor plumbing. Oh and a view. If we’re on an island I’d want the whole panoramic thing.”

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

I wasn’t going to lie. “No.”

I squirmed when he leaned over me and bent to speak real husky-like in my ear. “Tell me what you were thinking about while I was saving us from the perils of the wild.”

I was still squirming because he was sort of tickling me too. “A drake.”

It was as if I pushed him over. He fell back to his side of the bed so fast. “Who the *uck is Drake? Another new hero of yours?”

Did I mention that Honey doesn’t like me to bring my heroes into bed with us? Well, he doesn’t. So it’s my turn to lean up on elbow and shadow over him. “Not Drake, but a drake.”

He looks at me. “A duck?”

I popped my eyebrows at him. “A duck with a seventeen inch dick.”

That’s when he grabs me and drags me right on top of him. “You are such a pervert. I love that.”

And there I was left thinking for only a few seconds because, you know…well…that only Honey would consider the matter of a duck’s dick a perfect segue into…well, you know. ;) And can I just say, I LOVE that!



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Let’s Shake Things Up A Bit!

July 14, 2014


Anybody out there want to win something AWESOME? Here are the rules. First thing you have to do is share this post. Please with sugar on top?  Next thing you need to do is hop on over and like both Riley Murphy and Jettie Woodruff’s author page with the links provided. Following me? Okay, here’s the fun part. Go take the quiz and comment on your score plus done below. I’ll be picking a random winner and Jettie will pick another on Friday by five pm eastern.

Here are the links! Just click on the pics! Good luck!New photo 2013 (2) (511x800)Riley




Here’s the quiz:

tn_240_LUSTYJust click him…unfortunately he doesn’t come with the kindle either. *snap*

Before you go, can I just say, those UK gals are dirty-birdies! I scored and 8 out 10. Man, I want to meet the individual who scores a perfect 10. Maybe buy them a drink and pick their filthy brains. Lol!



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You Can’t Do That All Day!

July 9, 2014


The above picture? This is what I mean about that. Actually what Honey means, only it translates to write about sex. Here’s the conversation.

Honey jumping into a topic he figures is easy-breezy, but, you know with me that’s never the case. When is he going to learn? “So, what were you working on today?”

I didn’t even blink. “Stare Her Down. The rope scene with the two Doms.” I then proceed to go into detail- hey, he asked. :)

“You’ve got to be (insert bucking with an “f” in front of it here) kidding me. That’s what you wrote all day?”

I nodded, even though truthfully, it only took me a few hours to nail the scene. Meh, I was more invested in Honey’s shocked expression to tone down the exact timeframe.

“You can’t do that all day.”

Yeah, I’m hearing those crickets too. Because, let’s face it, how can an erotic romance writer do her work without writing about sex? “Yeah, *I give him a sorry-about-your-luck look* I’m pretty sure I have to if I want to complete a story.”

“All day you’ve been thinking about that stuff?”

In my head I was quite insulted, thinking, well not all day, but then I thought about something else. I thought about what he does on a daily basis. It would be crazy for me to suggest he stop thinking about contracting crap all day. It’s his job, right? Just like penning smexxy is mine. *insert me doing the Yeah! YEAH! Cheerleading toward his takedown dance here* now *insert me flicking my hair and doing the nose tilt to the ceiling thing* “I wouldn’t say I’ve been thinking about it all day. I did have to stop and do research. I had to comb through graphic pictures that were–” *insert an over-the-top dreamy sigh here* “nothing short of miraculous in most cases. I can only hope to be able to capture in words some of the scenes I encountered. Hot? Don’t ask. Why I was so turned on I had to stop halfway through and…”

Bah! From there I went on a little sexy diatribe, completely fabricated and heavily embellished just to freak him out. My bad. No really it was my bad, because I didn’t count on his totally male reaction. *Insert me huffing the hair from my eyes and looking right at you* By the time I was done pulling his leg he was definitely looking for me to pull on something else. Man, that’ll teach me to mess with him on the topic.

*Thinks for a millisecond* Wait, now that I think about it? Things worked out pretty darn good for me in the end. So *taps index fingernail on front tooth and stares up at the ceiling* How shall I mess with him today? Poor Honey… heheheh!


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Secretary Or Slave Girl…Which Would You Rather Be?

July 8, 2014

Jaxx Gavin


Slave Girl?


Picture this…

I’m feverishly working. My writing is going well and I’m cranking out pages like a good thing. I’m focused and in-the-story moment. And…

Honey comes into my space and hands me a piece of paper. It must be important, right? After all, why else would he interrupt my creative genius? My ‘on-a-roll’ moment? It must be earth shattering.

“What?” Looking down at the note, I squint. Honey should have been a doctor his penmanship is that bad. “I can’t read this.” I hand it back to him.

He frowns. “Do you want me to dictate it to you?”

Dictate? Surely he meant read. “Yes.”

And he does, but then he pauses mid-sentence. “Shouldn’t you be typing?”

Typing? “Typing?”

“Yeah,” he twiddled his fingers doing an air keyboard. “Punching out what I dictate?”

Wait, is he looking at me like I’m the idiot? “What are you talking about?”

In my defense here, a few seconds ago I was in a snowed in lodge getting my brains…wait, correction. My character was getting her brains… well, you know where I’m going with that, right?

He didn’t “I need this done so that I can mail it out today.” He held up the chicken scratch.

I blink. “How is this my problem?”

“I can’t type.”

Hm. Last time I checked that wasn’t my problem either. I think about it for a moment. Nope, still not my problem. “That’s a shame.”

He does that sigh. The one he’s copied from me – the patented show of frustration where I start with a deep intake of breath and exhale with a heavy hiss type growl. (Truthfully, I was a little impressed – he’d almost nailed it)

“Come on, I need you to type this up for me,” he said.

Now, because I’m easy to get along with, (it’s true you can ask anyone who knows me how amenable I am ;) ) I figured I’d mess with him a little until I eventually agreed. “I’m not your secretary.”

“I know but I need this today.”

I look him up and down and then give him a sly smile. “I’m not your secretary, but if you play your cards right I might be your slave girl for the day.” (Hey, what can I say? My mind’s back in the gutter at the lodge, remember? ;) )

His eyes go all dark. I love that about him and he grins. “I like the sound of that.” He tosses the paper on my desk and then leans down and grabs the arms of my chair effectively caging me in. We’re nearly nose to nose when he whispers, “And as my slave girl, you’ll be required to do some light typing.”

LOL! Crapatola! He had me there. Hilarious.

Secretary or slave girl? Is there a difference?


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