Ice Cream in the Snow By: Diana Castilleja | Other books by Diana Castilleja Published By: Purple Sword Publications, LLC ISBN # 9781936165636 Word Count: 52603 Heat Index Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket, Rocket, Epub Read More

An excerpt from the book

“Jacob, don’t forget your book bag,” Jessie called over her shoulder from the kitchen. She shot an anxious look at the clock on the wall to find they were both cutting it close.

“Got it here, Mom.” Jacob rushed into the kitchen, grabbed his lunch, and stuffed it into his bag. Watching his total disregard for the poor sack, she knew instinctively his lunch wouldn’t resemble food in four hours.

“Did you finish all of your homework?” She screwed the cap onto the juice, and placed it in the refrigerator. She frowned, noticing he hadn’t buttoned his shirt all the way again. She wondered if other parents had problems getting their children to dress themselves. Had to be a teenager thing.

“Yeah, all done. Don’t worry, Mom. The essay isn’t due until the end of the week.” He gulped his juice in seconds, then tossed the cup into the sink. She saw him make a final, searching look before he whipped around, rushing to catch the bus.

Jessie planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Hey mister, forgetting something?”

Jacob turned, a bashful hue tinting his cheeks. With a quick kiss to her cheek, he made good on his escape.

“Don’t forget to tuck in your shirt!” Jessie yelled after him.

She smiled at his disappearing back, knowing with a mother’s intuition her words would be ignored. The slam of the door echoed through to the kitchen. Going nothing to ninety. She envied his constant energy, and not too secretly either.

Jacob was an incredibly smart young man, at least in her eyes, although twelve wasn’t considered as young as it might once have been. So much more was expected of kids today, far more than she could remember. She was glad he had some good smarts to work with. If Jacob kept his classes in order, and kept his grades up, colleges would be looking for him instead of the other way around. It was a promising prospect for her son’s future, which made her very proud of him.

The two of them were a good team. They both had a say in whatever happened in their world, although when necessary, she did take the ‘Because I’m the mom’ stand. Even then, she took the time to explain the whys if she could. All they had was each other, so their relationship had to be understanding if not equal, as much as possible. It showed in Jacob’s maturity. She was always receiving end of year notes from his school teachers praising him.

She flipped the switch to the light in the kitchen and made her way through the house. She remembered when she'd bought the three-bedroom house, not long after her divorce from Arthur. It wasn’t large, but it was permanent. It exuded that homey feeling she remembered from growing up, a feeling of family. It held a certain appeal she had immediately felt drawn to. There was a warmth in the house, almost a calming quality. It was the perfect house for her when she needed a home to give a stable life to her and Jacob.

The sunlight beaming into the kitchen was what had sold her on the cozy home from the beginning. The way the light shone through the windows over the sink had seemed so perfect, bringing back those moments from her childhood that she’d wanted to impart on Jacob. The bright arcs of yellow warmth scattered across the floor, and late into the day they would almost reach the counter across the table’s width, giving it an enchanted feeling bathed in that glow. She’d fallen in love on the spot.

She’d needed the security the house offered her when Arthur relinquished any rights to her life, the day she caught him in their bed with another woman.

Embraced By Passion


Diana DeRicci

ISBN  978-1-936165-48-3

Word Count: 36,003

PDF Page Count: 109

Heat Index: Erotic Romance

Does this book contain violence? Yes

Genre(s): Erotic Romance, MMF, Ménage, paranormal, BBW

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Search Words (at least 20):  wyvern, telepathy, ménage, BBW, M/M, M/F/M, M/M/F, anal play, anal intercourse, paranormal romance, erotic romance, shapeshifter,



Blurb:


Ja'Rol and Slone have been together for years, but lately a desire they can't help has been creeping up on them. An emptiness neither wanted to admit to fearing the other's reaction and hurt. A faceless need, a woman they know they will encounter. A woman who will bond with them and make them complete in ways neither has ever known or anticipated.

Brigit can't explain the attraction she feels when she meets not one, but both of her mother's ex-bosses. When she learns her mother is about to wed, Slone and Ja'Rol offer to fly her to the ceremony. Their wedding gift--to have Brigit with her mother for the special day.

The trip to Las Vegas guarantees at least the opportunity to win her, to convince Brigit they want her. Embracing their relationship will be the easy part. The telepathy... That's a little harder to explain.

Excerpt:


“Vegas, huh?” Ja’Rol asked.


“Two days.” Brigit ran her fingers through her hair. How was she going to pull that off? She didn’t have tons of cash and a flight forty-eight hours ahead was going to cost a fortune. A bus would be cheaper, but could she do it in two days?


“Let’s surprise your mother,” Ja’Rol offered. “We do miss her. She’d been with us for a long time.”


“How?” she asked, questioning them both.


“Tell us where you’re staying, and your number. We’ll arrange for you to be picked up. We’ll fly. A final gift to say goodbye for her.” Slone sat, looking at her, hardly blinking.


“Won’t that interrupt your week?”


Ja’Rol smiled. “It’ll be worth it.”


After giving them her information, she took a couple numbers with her in case something changed. She promised to be packed and ready by seven the next night to catch the flight with them.


Standing, she noticed again how they stood over her, tall and broad. Both watched her with a protective gleam, and with Ja’Rol, more than a hint of desire. She couldn’t argue with what she saw in him. She felt it too, but being attracted to them both confused her. Just thinking about it made her nipples tighten more.


Feeling off kilter, she shook their hands, fighting to hide the tremble as heat flared up her arm to land in her stomach. It oozed like a hot lava flow to settle between her legs, making her damp with want the longer she stood with them.


“Until tomorrow,” Slone said. His voice had dropped to a low timbre. The kind of voice that made women swoon off their feet. Because she almost did.


“Thank you for doing this,” she said, trying to keep herself grounded. He smelled as good as Ja’Rol. Damn. What did they wear? She was so buying it.


“We’re happy to. You should be with your mother when she shares vows with her soon to be husband.”


Decadent. She was staring at the personification.


She licked her lips. “Tomorrow night?”


“Seven sharp,” he replied. Still holding her hand, he lifted it and brushed the back of her knuckles with his lips, just the softest tease of heat to skin. Her body pulsed as liquid slicked her pussy. Shit. I have got to get out of here before I combust.

“Let me walk you to the way out,” Ja’Rol offered.


Almost numb with need, she followed. Slone opened the door and with a hand to her back, she let Ja’Rol guide her to the elevator. “All the way to one,” he told her.


She nodded. “I can get a cab.”


“A cab?” He glanced at her, his eyes wider. “Not for Traci’s daughter. I’ll go down and call for the car. Are you already settled at your hotel?”


“Yes,” she answered, feeling breathless.


“Good.”


“It’s not an imposition? Doesn’t it take money to just drive me to my hotel?”


“You are now our guest, as we will be your guests to your mother’s wedding. We take care of our guests.”


She felt it was a losing battle, so she didn’t push. Riding in the elevator was a torture. Not as rugged as Slone, dark brown hair, honey gold eyes, he was perfection.


Decadence and perfection. And she was about to be ensconced in an airplane for hours with the two of them.


Brigit swallowed the groan, crossing her arms to conceal her arousal.

• Author: Lila Pearce
• Cover Artist: Dawne' Dominique
• Genre: Fantasy/ Erotic Romance/Menage
• Length: Novella 
• ISBN 978-1-936165-41-4
• Heat Level: Erotic Romance  
• Released: May 19, 2010

 
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Anya Ohmara is back for another adventure in this sequel to Garnet Dreams. The garnet necklace that whisked her away to the hot sands of the desert has disappeared, and she still has no idea if her encounter with the hunky Bedouin, Muammar, was a dream or reality. She doesn’t have the time to care. She has only two weeks to put the finishing touches on her latest romance novel or she’s going to lose her contract. Secondary issues—doing laundry, showering, sleeping, leading a normal social life—are all pushed down the priority list as she slaves away to meet the deadline.

Vanessa, on the other hand, has more time with her male colleagues than she cares to deal with. An unfortunate effect of being a part of the smallest archeological expedition she’s ever heard of is that if she doesn’t get along with her boss and the intern, she’s out of luck. Her boss refuses to bring in more help, so Vanessa is stuck with the two of them and the over-sexed bartender at the local watering hole as her only romantic prospects. The future does not look bright in sunny Costa Rica.
Valentine’s Day looks dismal and lonely for both women.

Anya manages to pull herself together in the nick of time, but not without making a complete fool of herself in front of the Mail Express deliveryman. Again. Her one consolation is that she finished in time to experiment with the next set of jewels from Vanessa. This time, she finds a pair of amethyst earrings that whisk her away to the home of an affluent Greek statesman. Once more naked and alone in a strange time and place, Anya is mistaken for a renowned courtesan. She has to think quick when the deception is discovered, or face the anger of an Athenian noble.

"The Assantra kept many women in her palace, some from all over the lands. They were beautiful, mistress, but…"

She lifted her head to peer down at him. Their gazes locked. She saw the wonder in his blue eyes, the lost look of a man mesmerized. "Say it."

"None like you."

As he stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar, Althyn realized something about herself. Beauty was one thing, but her mermish blood changed what men saw, made her appealing in a way she couldn’t fathom. Suddenly her father’s words, when she’d found him in the jungle standing over her mother’s remains, made sense. She sat up and pushed a braid from her shoulder. "You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?"

He licked his lower lip with the tip of his pink tongue, his eyes fixed. "Anything you ask."

She stood and walked around her slave. She traced his bare shoulder with her forefinger, marveling at this newfound gift. Certainly, she hadn’t held this strength over her father, but maybe their shared blood negated its power. Her hand slipped up Lainious’s neck and across his tense cheek. She furled her fingers in his thick curls and hummed.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back in ecstasy. "Your voice," he said, breathless. His shears fell from his grip and onto the wood.

Lured to find out more, she knelt before him and cupped his face with both hands. She sang a light melody her mother had taught her as a child, a sweet, lilting lullaby in a tongue she had no name for…until now.

He is handsome, she mused, thinking that his black hair reminded her of her father. He was more muscular though, not as sinewy or lean, and his skin wasn’t as dark. With the pads of her thumbs, she traced his lips and leaned closer, somehow caught in the spell she wove as she sang. The man remained helpless, his pupils dancing behind closed lids, his increasingly heavy exhales tickling her fingertips. What would it be like to kiss him? To force my mouth over his as my father did to my mother?
She leaned in. Her chest brushed his. He flinched, and she dipped her face so that their lips grazed together.

Author: Cynthia Carole
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Length: Novella 24,538 Words
ISBN: 978-1-936165-40-7
Release Date: May 5, 2010
Heat Level: Erotic
Violence

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Can she betray the only man she’s ever loved to save her son?  Or has this omega been pushed too far…

In the werewolf pack, the omega comes last.  Leslie understood early in life that to fight back only brought her violence and pain.  She learned to obey her father, the packmaster, in all things, even betraying her lover on his orders.  But now, he has pushed her too far, and Leslie must turn to the exiled alpha she once wronged and see if he will trust her one last time.

Leslie and Chris embark on a dark and nightmarish race through the underworld of werewolves, vampires, and even the mysterious fae to save their son…but is it all just another betrayal?

EXCERPT:

She breathed in his scent, the mixture of aftershave, sweat and wolf. Gradually, her heart stopped its frantic beating and slowed to a normal pace. She leaned into him, feeling his warmth and the solid mass of muscles and bone that made up his chest. Since when had he gotten so strong?
Suddenly he rolled over, taking her with him, and pushing her down into the king-sized bed. The polyester comforter smelled of hotel laundry soap. His weight settled on top of her and filled her with need. A pulse of lust shot down her spine to the junction of her legs. Her thighs quivered, and heat pooled in her womb with aching intensity. Her head tried to tell her that now was not the time—that they were both too upset, and that there was no trust between them—but her body wasn’t listening. Her flesh knew what it wanted. Her wolf rose, shoving aside her human confusion and grief.
Chris gave a shaky sigh. “Damn it. Why do you make me so crazy?”
He dug his hand into her hair and kissed her firmly on the lips. His lips, both familiar and strange, took away her last doubts. This could be our last chance. Only God knew what awaited them at her father’s house. Chris. Her first and only lover. She might never touch him again. She thought of the long walks they had taken years ago, strolling hand in hand on the boardwalk while the sun set in the Pacific. He had talked about his future, the judges he knew, the other lawyers in his office, and she would talk about her college classes, her professors, the other students in her classes. They had laughed, kissed, and finally made love after the sun went down and the beach grew dark and empty.
His lips roved over hers now, deepening their kiss, and she became that girl again. The girl with hopes and dreams.
She opened her mouth to him, and his tongue darted in to taste her. Wrapping her arms around his wide chest, she gripped the muscles of his back through his shirt. He shifted off her, but kept his mouth on hers, his tongue running across her teeth. The warmth of his hand startled her as he slid it up her shirt and over her ribcage. Her white bra glowed in the dark room.
She sat up, pushing him back. The fact that he allowed her to made her feel powerful. He would never take what wasn’t given. With shaky hands, she yanked off her shirt and unsnapped her bra. Both pieces of clothing fell to the floor. Her breasts glowed pale in the faint twilight that came through the window.
A lusty growl escaped his mouth, and he grabbed her. He pulled her to sit on top of him. His strength made her feel like a doll, and his big hands roamed over her bare back, making her wish she could purr. She felt his erection beneath his pants, and when she wiggled her hips, he groaned. His fingers roamed around until he cupped her breasts. She arched her spine as the pleasure tingled her skin and sent more hot fluid rushing between her legs.
She never wanted his hands to stop. He played with her nipples, gently pinching until they were tight and small. Then he raised his head and took one in his mouth. His tongue danced there, flicking the pebbled tip back and forth. She cried out. Now the need for more overwhelmed her.
They seemed to have the same thought at the same time, because he rolled her to one side and yanked open her pants. They came off with barely a tug, and he threw them across the room. Then his clothes came off. His body was far more sculpted than she remembered. Muscles rippled across his chest, and his arms bulged. When did a lawyer have time to body build? But she didn’t want to take the time to ask, or to even think about it. She needed him, and she needed him now.
She lay on the bed, naked, exposed, and waiting. His eyes glittered with lust and wolf—and she knew that he was losing his control. He crawled on his hands and knees, looming above her with his hot breath and huge bulk. He blocked out the light from the window. She raised her chin, exposing the long column of her neck. Her wolf needed this. The animal inside her knew how to placate him. She lay still and open, her pulse points exposed.

Author: Rachel D. Thompson
Cover Artist: Anastasia RabiyahGenre: Paranormal RomanceLength: NovellaISBN 978-1-936165-39-1Heat Level: Sensual RomanceViolence

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Shanna dreams of becoming a level-five witch. Only one thing stands in her way—her ability. Attempting to conjure a low-grade imp brings forth a terrifying demon straight out of the nine hells. Worse yet, he claims to be tied to her through a contract formed with her late father. Who is the demon Alecandros really? He seems to know far too much about her...

EXCERPT:
“Are you all right, little witch?”
She wasn’t. A demon stood so close to her she could feel the unnatural heat baking off his skin, coming off him in waves. Her muscles had tensed up so much she didn’t think she could move, even to defend herself. Of course, any spells she’d memorized had flown right out of her head anyway. They wouldn’t do her any good.
He picked her up before she could fall again and retrieved the jar from her limp grasp. He set it back on the shelf.
“Clumsy little witch.”
She gasped as he slung her over his back, steadying her with a hand on her rump. He took the stairs two at a time, and she bumped along with his unsteady gait, her view obstructed by his back.
They passed through the kitchen and into her bedroom. Dried potpourri filled the air with the scent of lilacs, an aroma she favored. He unslung her and after a short ride through the air, she landed on a soft surface. Her bed. She grabbed handfuls of the yellow comforter, sure it would soon be splattered red.
His face appeared in her view at the side of the bed, his forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”
She scrambled backwards, rumpling the sheets and comforter into a ball around her feet. Her head banged against the wall. “Ow!”
Rubbing the back of her head and trying to hold back a sob, she stared at the demon. His image doubled in her vision as tears threatened.
“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” she choked out.
He cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m going to kill you?”
She thought that should be obvious, but maybe he needed clarification. “You’re a demon.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not that kind of demon. Tell me something, little witch. Why did you summon me?”
The question caught her off-guard. She sniffled. “What?”
“It’s a simple question. Demons are usually summoned because the summoner wants something. What. Do. You. Want?” He enunciated each word, as if speaking to a half-wit.
“I didn’t mean to summon you.”
“Oh. I see.” He sat on the bed with his legs folded underneath him. Then he smirked. “Then you shouldn’t have drawn my symbol within the circle.”
“I didn’t—” she began, but he cut her off.
“I’ve been summoned by many witches. But never accidentally.” He gave her a sly, sidelong glance, his eyes smoldering.
The temperature in the room rose about ten degrees. He got off the bed so he could execute a sharp bow. “If I’m an accident, allow me to introduce myself. I am Alecandros. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
After giving her sore head one more rub, she folded her arms.
“Do you even know what you’ve summoned, little witch?”
“It doesn’t matter. As soon as I figure out how to send you back to wherever you came from, I will.” The brave words lost some of their edge when her voice wavered.
“And why would you want to do that?” he asked in a dangerous tone.
She sounded uncertain even to herself. “You’re a demon. You belong in another dimension.”
“I do?” He spread his arms. “Do I look like a demon to you?”
She stared at him. He looked a few years older than she did, and his blue eyes had adopted a more innocent look. No, he didn’t look much like a demon now. Until his eyes flashed to black and back again.
“Let me show you what witches usually use me for,” he whispered, sliding closer. His hand on her ankle made her jump.
“Stop it.” Her voice sounded strangled, even to her.
His hand slid higher, bringing her skirt with it as he leaned over her. “Why? I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

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