Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Guest Blog: The Gunny and the Jazz Singer by Jane Leopold Quinn #excerpt

Please welcome Jane Leopold Quinn to the Lair today! She's here to tell us a little about her latest book and has sent us a delicious excerpt. (Psst... This book is available for pre-order until November 20!)

Thank you, Rebecca, for hosting me today.

I've always loved the idea of small towns.  I grew up in one but have lived in the big city for more years than I did in the small town.  I'm not sure I could re-acclimate to a small town after all these years, so I'll write about them and about the people who live there.

Every time I get to the point of promotion, I try to remember exactly how a particular book came into being. Every book has some sort of motivation particular to that story. For quite a while I had the idea of a three part series taking place in a small town. I love birch trees, and that became the inspiration for the town name, Birchwood Falls. I even drew a map of the town - a very rough map.

My first character was a Marine home on leave after almost a decade of deployments in the Middle East. What kind of woman would be a good foil for his military persona?  Hmm…a young artistic and musical jazz singer. Marc and Phoebe have divergent goals, but their attraction is real and immediate. They've both lost a great deal in their pasts but find love with each other.

Here's a description of The Gunny & The Jazz Singer -

U.S. Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant Marc Rahn, Jr. enlisted after high school graduation to escape the pain of his parents' fatal car wreck. Now on leave after eight years and multiple Middle East deployments, he returns to his hometown to put to rest his suspicions that the "accident" might actually have been anything but.

What he doesn't expect on move-in day from the neighbor across the street is an intriguing flash of pierced nipple. The breast's owner, Phoebe Barnes, is a beautiful young jazz singer who has plans to make it big in the music business. Her early years in foster care made her hungry for attention and fame, and she's out to achieve both at almost any cost.

Despite their differing goals, Marc and Phoebe quickly give in to the sizzling attraction between them. But will their passion turn deadly when the person who killed Marc's family decides two murders might not have been enough?

Author's Note:  This book was originally published as Lost and Found.
It now has a new title and new cover.

The Gunny & The Jazz Singer - an R-rated excerpt-

Apparently skittish, she made sure she kept some space between them on the walk home. No accidental shoulder-bumping. And the distance wasn't long enough for him.
She was a little-bitty thing compared to his hulking presence. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her close to his chest. Something stuck in the back of his mind. Besides flashing her naked body to him—was it just this morning?—he seemed to recall a flash of something else in the vicinity of her breast.
Sucking in a breath, his cock thickened, throbbing behind his zipper. Suddenly the most important thing to him now was to determine if her nipple was pierced.
As they reached her front porch, she was poised to hustle inside. He wouldn't be getting any more free shows, damn it all. But as nice as it would be to spend some time with a luscious woman like Phoebe, he hadn't come home for that.
But still it had been a long time since he'd enjoyed a woman's body. Phoebe was such a hot little number, all sensual singer combined with an obvious sweetness with her friends. Just one kiss. What would that hurt? Reaching for her hands, he tugged them up to rest on his shoulders and wrapped his around her tiny waist, the firm curve flaring out to soft hips. He fought palming her ass and pressing it against his fully swollen cock.
Gazing down at her, she seemed calm enough as if this happened to her all the time. It probably did if he knew Butch. Cold fury roared through him at the thought of Butch putting his hands on her. Where that came from, he didn't know. Maybe Butch really cared for her, but it hadn't seemed like she returned the feelings.
Her mouth parted. She was waiting for him to make his move. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
A woman's tongue was one of the many things that triggered his arousal.
He brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs prodding her chin up. She pushed up on her toes until their chests touched, and her fingers slid up into his hair. It all happened so naturally, so easily. And their lips met.
Once he started he wanted to ravish her. It had been too fucking long since he'd had a woman. But he steadied his libido and softly brushed her mouth, her warm breath searing his heart.
Caressing her lips, he nibbled, sucking first her top, then her bottom lip. Re-angling his head, he held her steady and kissed her like the starving man he realized he was.
Blood beat through his ears. In his head, he could hear his own tortured breathing. She made soft little sounds in her throat that sounded like arousal to him, like encouragement. Her fingers in his hair yanking at the strands felt like encouragement too.

The Gunny & The Jazz Singer
is available here for 99 cents pre-order until November 20
Mike Banning, Marc's childhood friend, watch
Marc and Phoebe struggle against a foe and
then are rewarded by finding love with each other.
Look for Mike's love story in
The Bride Takes a Powder
Two county deputies, Hank and Pete, from Parkersburg, a neighboring town,
appear briefly in this story as Phoebe's home town friends.
These deputies have their own love stories also available now.
Hank's story is Home to Stay
Pete's is The Keeper
About Jane
Sensual fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a friend said, "Why don't you write them down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen, and the unleashing of my imagination later, and here I am with nineteen books published. The craft of writing sensual romance has become my passion and my niche in life. I love every part of the creative process—developing characters, designing the plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories. My careers have been varied—third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary—none of which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write romance full time—the best job in the universe! And I'm fortunate enough to have found my own happily ever after husband.
Jane Leopold Quinn
My Romance:  Love With a Scorching Sensuality
Amazon Author Page
My Books
Historical Indie
Contemporary Indie
The Bride Takes a Powder - coming soon

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Update and what's working for me on #NaNoWriMo

Nano is going great. If you look over at the sidebar, you'll see that as of this moment, I have about 18k to go to 50k. I hope to get a few more words before midnight, but today has been good.

I'm not rocketing along, but I'm getting my quota, plus some each day. What's working for me is sort of balancing the things in the quote above.

Sit down and start writing, but let the characters have room to run around and add a few twists. They've added a couple of turns in the story that I didn't put into the loose plot I wrote down in October.

Plan, ie plot, but keep it open enough that I don't feel to constrained by that outline. The characters are running with this plot. At the start of November, I was a little worried, I didn't get the plot finished in time for me to put it on a template I'd started using to help expand and solidify the plot. I'm glad I didn't. Although the template helps to put everything in perspective and show who the scene is important to, I'm thinking it will be better to finish the template when I'm revising.

Believe. Even if I'm having a horrible day, it can turn around with a good 25 minute sprint.

That's what's working for me. How are you doing? Is theresomething that's working for you?

Happy Reading!

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Excerpt of my #Nanowrimo WIP Love's Bounty

I've been working on a story for nanowrimo. It hit the 21k mark today! Yes, I'm excited. I thought I'd share an excerpt of Love's Bounty in celebration.

Here's the excerpt. Very rough first draft so there are errors.

“Now, tell us how you knew we were here and what exactly you want. Don’t expect us to believe that you’re here to help. You work for another company. They wouldn’t approve that.” Dante leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest.
“We are here to help. The company we work for has nothing to do with that. We’re hunting a bounty for them. That’s all they care about. We found someone to hunt here, because Grant asked us to be here to back you up.” Kos stopped near the table, but didn’t take a seat.
Mitch was glad that his mask hid his face. His mouth was probably hanging completely open. How the hell did they know his father’s name.
“Grant is supposed to mean something to us?” Dante’s voice sounded calm and completely void of any recognition of the name.
“You know your father’s name. You are also aware that he’s the man who co-owns the company you work for.” Rite shook her head. “Don’t be such a suspicious ass. We may have enjoyed giving you a little trouble in the past, but this is something else entirely. We found you because he’s worried about you. Nothing more.”
“And why would you care if he’s worried?” Mitch voiced the question that kept popping into his head. His father had never spoken of Kos and Rite. How did they know him?
“Because he’s one of the only men I really respect. Give me a moment. When you see who we are, it will explain everything.” Kos reached up to the fastenings that secured her mask.
That couldn’t simply be ripped off. It had to be taken off by Kos or cut off. The fastenings were keyed to the person it belonged to. From what he said, it was someone they knew by sight. Who could it be. He couldn’t think of one person who had the build and short stature to be either of those two.
The person didn’t take off the mask like he expected them to. The mask was pulled out and then up. A full head mask came with it. He hadn’t even realized. It had looked like the person had black hair. He frowned. That wasn’t normal. The stocking like bottom finally cleared the head. A braid fell out first. The long black hair stymied him, but that could be why the person wore a hood. They didn’t want their hair used as a means of control on them.
The hood finally pulled completely free, revealing pale creamy skin. The soft curves of her face were delightfully rounded. Recognition slammed through him.
“Brigitte!” Mitch took a step forward. He hadn’t expected to see her. Hell, he hadn’t even known that she was a bounty hunter.

Monday, November 02, 2015

The madness of November

November is a month where we're all looking forward and in my case looking back to see what's been accomplished this year. I'm both happy with what's been accomplished and not so thrilled. Not even near my yearly goals, but that's not what's been most on my mind.

Consistency and habit building have been swirling through my thoughts lately. I haven't been able to settle into a consistent writing routine. Yes, the year has had some drama. I have to be accountable for myself and I haven't managed to do what I wanted.

So in order to give myself a little bit of a kick, I joined Nanowrimo. I have no idea if I'll get 50 k, but I'm going to give it a shot. If I don't, I'll be happy if I can get into a steady routine. I've hit today's goal which is great! I'll be putting the story name on the sidebar and am trying to find a word counter.

Love's Bounty

Brigitte Brock is on the hunt--for love and an elusive bounty. She's come to Terune, an outlaw planet searching for a woman wanted by the Coalition, but her main objective is to reunite with the two men she's always wanted. It's time to reconnect with the men she thought she lost.

Mitch and Dante Logan are hunting for a gang of thieves on the run from the Coalition. They never expected help to arrive in the form of a woman they'd mistakenly walked away from. They're eager to grasp the new chance with her, but there's a lot they don't know about the woman she's become. To keep her, they'll have to realize she needs to work with them, not be protected from the harsh reality of their life.

In the following days, I will get up a character interview from Claimed by Three. I believe Teague will be stopping by to tell us a little about himself. I also have an article for another blog to finish typing. I'm so behind on that.

I'll try to keep you updated on my mad November writing.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Guest Blog: Silverfall by Raven De Hart

Today, I'd like to welcome Raven De Hart. She's sharing an excerpt of her latest release from Loose Id!

 Cover by Fiona Jayde


The city hides a lot of secrets. Sometimes, those secrets break free.

Unicorns can’t be real. That’s what Anthony Gates always thought. At least until he saw one murder a man. Now there’s a myth stalking him through the streets of San Francisco. And right when he’s starting in on a very passionate—and promising—relationship.

Leon Phillips is a security guard with a secret. A dangerous secret. One he can’t even share with his new flame, Anthony. But when the mysterious Lionshead organization rears up, he’s left with only two choices: come clean about who he really is, or give up on Anthony forever.

Can their romance survive onslaught from all sides, or will the secrets eat away at what could have been?


I made it through and leaned against the other bar. This bartender wasn’t quite as cute as the first one, but I hardly thought I’d be headed home with either one of them. “Double bourbon, rocks.”

I reached for my wallet to give him my card, start a second tab, but a large, gruff hand wrapped over my wrist. Its partner handed a twenty to the bartender. “I’ll cover it.”

Shit on fire. Someone was actually paying for my drink. Of course, it was probably some old fart who was hoping to get lucky with someone the same age as his fucking grandson. That would be my luck. But I had to show my appreciation. Hopefully I could end the bad situation there.

“Thanks, but you really don’t have to.”

“It’s my distinct pleasure.”

He didn’t sound old. Fuck it. I dared eye contact, and I was fucking thrilled with the outcome. He was tall. Over six feet. Short black hair, clean-shaven, and well-built. Very well-built. He had these big, dark eyes. Almost black and almost too big for his face. His gaze bored into me. Even when I blinked, I could see them, clear as the clearest night sky. He had scars all over his face, neck, and arms. Subtle, but there. And, perhaps most importantly, he had to be somewhere close to my age. Or know a really good plastic surgeon.

“Hi.” I offered him my hand properly. He grabbed it, squeezed it as he shook. Strong.

“Hi. My name’s Leon.”

“Anthony.” I sipped at my drink, but suddenly, I didn’t seem to need it so much. I leaned on the bar and smiled. “So, how about that small talk?”

“Hate it. But I occasionally endure the torment.”

“On what occasions?”

He shrugged but didn’t break eye contact. “Mainly when my conversational partner is lovely enough to warrant the effort.”

“And do I qualify?”

Again, a shrug. Then a smile. It wasn’t a cute smile or a sexy smile or a pretty smile. It was too big, and his teeth were too horsey. That was all right with me. He was real and attractive, not fake and plastic like all the other guys I’d come across in California.

He took a drink of whatever was in his glass. “So the weather’s been pretty good lately.”

“It’s California. The closest thing I’ve seen to bad weather here is an earthquake.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.” He clinked his glass against mine before continuing. “It rained that one time.”

“Must have been before I moved here.”

“Where’d you move from?”


“Cow country.”

“Not exactly. Our neighbors did the whole cattle thing. My family was always more into horses.” And just like that, the unicorn trotted back into my mind. But it also trotted right back off and let me focus on Leon. “What about you?”

“I’ve pretty much been here my whole life. Moved around to different towns, but the city life always suited me best of all.” He took another drink and finished it most of the way off. “What do you do for a living?”

That was a great question. Totally made me datable material, talking about my dead-end job. “I’m on the night crew down at Michaelson’s Grocery.”

“What do you do?”

So much for my artful dodging. “I’m a stocker. Nothing special, but it pays the bills.” Needed to get off that subject quick. “What about you?”

“Security.” He said it fast. If I wasn’t feeling the liquor so hard, I might have questioned it. And if he wasn’t so damn good-looking and interested in me. For once. “I work for whoever decides to pay me that week.”

“Is it dangerous?”

He snorted. “Hardly. There’s not nearly as much activity as the TV writers would have you think.” He reached over and touched my cheek, rough skin scratching. “How do you feel about kissing strangers, Anthony?” When he pulled his bar stool closer, I didn’t back off. I thought I maybe should have, but I didn’t. I let him touch me. His skin was warm and hard, and he smelled like cut grass and wet dirt. I don’t know why. Maybe it was just my imagination. That was completely possible. But I still breathed deep. If my brain wanted me to think he smelled that perfect, I was going to take full advantage of the delusion.

He kept his hand there for a long time. Longer than I’d ever normally allow a stranger to touch me, sober or not. My heart thumped hard in my chest. Damn it, I felt good. I brushed my fingers through his hair. Soft to the touch.

And then it happened. I leaned forward, balancing my stool on two legs. Given how much liquor I’d had, that was an impressive fucking feat. I hesitated for half a breath just an inch away from him. Close enough to see his pores. Close enough to feel his gentle breath, hot and scented like whatever fruity cocktail he’d been drinking.

I leaned in that extra inch and pressed my lips to his. Not long. Hardly more than a peck. No tongue. But it still sparked inside me, lighting something animal to life in my core. I snuffed it out. Or tried…and failed. It remained there even as the heat of embarrassment took hold.

“Was that all right?”

“No complaints from me.” The big toothy smile again. “In fact, I think we should do it again.” He scooted even closer, weaving his legs between mine. He whispered the next part. “Go ahead.”

It took me a bit to believe it, to believe he really wanted to kiss again. But he didn’t pull back when I leaned closer. I parted my lips, conformed to the curve of his mouth. I dared a flash of tongue, just the slightest brush against his teeth. His tongue touched mine just as I went to pull back, and the sensation stuck there, lingering in my mouth.

I looked into the big, dark eyes. The skin crinkled around them as he laughed. “Well, I think that was okay, don’t you?”


After years on hiatus, Raven de Hart has once again picked up her pen to write her salacious stories and tantalizing tales. And the occasional lewd limerick, if she's had enough wine. Her short work has been published in various anthologies from Cleis Press and Bold Strokes Books, among others. She is also the author of a variety of books, including Wild Ride and Silverfall. When she is not writing, she can be found tending her herb garden, playing with her Basset Hounds, and trying to figure out this new-fangled internet fad.


Thank you for stopping by Raven!