Thursday, January 30, 2014

POV: The Keys to Your Kingdoms -Guest Julie Eberhart Painter

12:00 AM 4 Comments

I like to share tips on writing craft on my blog, and today's post is from Julie Eberhart Painter, who is here to talk about that all-important POV. Thanks, Julie!

Point of View, the Keys to your Kingdoms
Julie Eberhart Painter

One of the most important aides to telling a story well is a clear and tight POV. It puts the readers in the moment and draws them in. Recently I’ve discovered an author who does this increasingly well. Jodi Picoult uses the character as the chapter heading in many of her novels. To read her work is like having a lover. You forget your obligations until her last page. (You can defrost meat in the microwave if you cook it within half an hour.)

In my current WIP, I’ve adopted this style/format. The POV is tight; the story continues linearly in the voice of the character who has the most to lose in the chapter’s scene. This can be shown in first, third or even second person, present or past tense.

Previously I wrote exclusively in third person omniscient.

My recent published book, Morning After Midnight shows two boys whose family portraits are reversed. Aaron who is white comes from a fractured family. Skillet, who is black, has a happy, functional two-parent home. His family is surviving together despite the winds of change that came late to buffet the South.

Tag line and synopsis: Unsettled times and dysfunctional families force the young lovers to rethink their values and find love between the States.

Two boys, Aaron who is white and Skillet who is black are bonded in a friendship forged in secret in the Deep South. Yet it is the white boy, who must adjust and readjust as his family splinters in the changing climate of Integration.

Aaron is hard on himself. With Skillet's vision he finds a place to rest his weary cautions as he struggles though 30 years of self-doubt and restarts to find his career with the love of his life.

Beth, makes the life she wants, one goal at a time. Her love, Aaron must resolve his life before she can add him to her future.

The excerpt, 1963:
            Aaron slipped through the hedge to the old depot entrance and sat down, making himself as small as possible.
Skillet circled the building until he found him. “Wondered how you were doin’ since you got back, Aaron?”
            “I couldn’t get away any sooner, Gram watches me.”
            “We got a phone now. I’ll give you the number.”
            “That would be great.”
            “You looked messed-with; what happened this time, another crisis? I thought you couldn’t wait to get back in the States.”
            “Skillet, I’ve got grandparents—”
            “Ah know…what about ‘em?”
            “Remember the ones that were dead?”
            “No way! They ain’t dead?”
            “Dead to us, Mom says.”
            Skillet shook his head. “That’s one messed up family you got, Aaron.”
            “Tell me about it. I talked to them on the phone. They’re real, Daddy’s folks. They live in Florida.”
            “Guess they’re real old?”
            “Daddy’s over forty, he’s old, too.” 
            “What’s gonna happen?”
            “Nuthin’ I guess. You know Mom and Gram, nothing happens in their world they don’t want to happen.”
            Skillet nodded. “Then that’s the way of it. Sometimes I’m glad I’m black.”
            “Yeah, sometimes I wish I was you. Your life is so…so simple.”
            “Don’t ever say that, man…”

If I had written this book in the manner of Jodi Picoult, it might have been more intimate but less believable coming from me, the DamnYankee. Selecting your POV is the most important decision you can make for focusing your book.

Your options are limitless; your selection is critical.

By Julie Eberhart Painter:
Morning After Midnight

Two boys, Aaron, who is white and Skillet, who is black, are bonded in a friendship forged in secret in the Deep South. Yet it is the white boy who must adjust and readjust as his family splinters in the changing climate of integration. 

Aaron is hard on himself. With Skillet's vision, he finds a place to rest his weary cautions as he struggles through 30 years of self-doubt and restarts to find his career with the love of his life.

About the Author
Julie Eberhart Painter raised in Bucks Count, Pennsylvania, boyhood home of James A Michener, is the author of Mortal Coil, Tangled Web, and the 2011 Book of the Year, Kill Fee, and sequel, Medium Rare from Daughters of the Sea. Julie’s first paranormal romance, and Morning After Midnight are available from MuseItUp Publishing. Find them on ,,, and other online ebook venues.
Twitter: @JulieEPainter

Julie is a regular blogger on , and feature writer for, an online slick. Her flash fiction appears under
Visit Julie's Web site at

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Break Me In -Guest Sara Brookes

12:00 AM 2 Comments
~~Today's excerpt contains graphic material~~

From time to time I showcase other authors and books on my blog. Today I’m pleased to have guest Sara Brookes, who's here to share an excerpt from her brand new release Break Me In, the 3rd in her Geek Kink series. She's also got an awesome giveaway: a chance to win a $25 gift card to! (See Rafflecopter box below.)  Take it away, Sara!

Break Me In
by Sara Brookes

Elena avoids relationships by using her flogger as a shield. Alex is struggling with substance abuse and Elena will do nearly anything to help him conquer his demons, even risk losing him forever. When he comes home, whole and healthy, he raises the stakes by requesting their friendship turn to a D/s bond. His submission will change their dynamic forever. She convinces herself it’s just sex. Love and desire aren’t part of the equation.

Under Elena’s reverent command, Alex finds a comfort he’s always yearned for. He’s happier than ever as he spends his days slinging coffee and his nights bound and collared. Submitting to Elena exposes more than his strengths—it reveals a powerful attraction. Most of all, it uncovers their passionate love. He’s ready to convince her there’s no reason to mask her feelings, but his efforts are derailed when his toxic past resurfaces to annihilate their future.

Warning: A hunky, tortured barista. A seductive, stubborn Domme. Desire that can’t be tamed by cuffs, ropes and chains. And angst. So much drama and angst, John Hughes would be proud. Being bad never felt so good.


The tails of her flogger brushed against his calf as she moved behind him. Her body pressed against his, the swell of her breasts following the line of his spine as she dipped lower. She shimmied behind him, her breasts scraping against the heated flesh she’d lashed.
Need tore through him. Elena’s soft touch drew across his back and ignited the strips of red skin to burn the fire to rage anew. His gasp of shock married with his pleasure.
“You excite me, Alexander, with your wonder and enthusiasm. You aren’t sure if you can let someone else take control, let someone take care of you even though that’s what you desire. You want so much to hate what you’re doing right now, but your body is speaking a very different language. You’ll crave it soon, I promise you.” Her hand gently cupped one of his ass cheeks. “Your skin marks so beautifully here. Do you want to know how much you excite me?”
Something shifted against his thigh and air rushed out of his lungs when he felt her bare breasts graze his skin. The tight points of her erect nipples pressed against the heated areas she’d marked. Everything inside him focused on those spots. She moved slowly, pushing the hard nubs against him even as he strained against his bindings.
“You taste so decadent here.” Her lips parted, her tongue dipping into the hollow of his back. “Potent. Wanton. Mine.” Her hand skimmed over his shoulder as she stood, her touch featherlight and a sharp contrast to the licks the leather had delivered. She moved, dipping her hands under his arms as she pressed her bare chest against his sweaty back. Her short nails scraped down his torso, scratching lightly over hard ridges of muscles strung tight with tension.
Her breath fanned his ear for a moment before she fisted her hand around his hard shaft. His chest hitched and he hissed out a breath at the heady sensation. Flesh, so delicate and feminine despite the rough touch, held him and measured the weight of his fully erect cock.
Her hand danced over his throbbing shaft, her fingers curling around to cradle him. Blood and adrenaline coursed through him, setting his entire body on fire. He strained against his bindings, totally at her mercy, as her hand slid down to the base.
As his skin quivered against her touch his lower body tightened in anticipation as she started to trace circles against his hip. She ran her hand so slowly up the length, convincing him she would never reach the head. But when she finally did she dragged her thumb over the tip, smearing the drop of pre-cum that had collected there.
Her hand began moving, up and down, on his shaft. The tension she’d just spent so much time building coalesced into a brilliant ball of heat at the base of his dick. He jerked a few times against her touch, desperate for relief. Panic began to override reason again when he realized her intent.
“Elena, no.”
“Don’t spill all over my nice, pretty floor, Alexander.”

Author Links:

New Release Announcement List:


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Dad's Pecan Pie -Guest Clare Murray

12:00 AM 1 Comments
It's Too Yummy Tuesday!

On select Tuesdays I share delicious recipes either inspired by my books or that are just plain delicious! Today I'm happy to have special guest Clare Murray, author of Speakeasy Sweetheart, who's here to share her father's awesome pecan pie recipe!! Take it away!

The history of pecan pie is a little unclear. Most written recipes for pecan pie as we know it didn’t predate the ‘20s. So in honor of Speakeasy Sweetheart, my latest novella from Ellora’s Cave, here’s my dad’s recipe for pecan pie.


Pie crust (premade, or you can make your own with butter, flour, a pinch of salt and sugar). If you do your own, make sure the butter stays cold until you pour the filling in!
3 eggs
½ cup brown sugar
1-1.5 cup Karo syrup (golden syrup works too, if you’re in the UK)
1-1.5 tsp of vanilla
¼ tsp salt
1 cup of pecans (walnuts will do as well)
½ stick melted butter
Optional: Small pinch of nutmeg

Directions: Mix together, pour onto pie crust.
Bake at 425F for 15 minutes, then turn down to 350 degrees for about 45 minutes, or until a knife stuck into the middle comes out clean. Cooking time may vary by oven!

Speakeasy Sweetheart
by Clare Murray
A Romantica® time-travel erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Her boyfriend dumped her, she’s being evicted and she has no job prospects—Sasha Kelly doesn’t have much to look forward to. Until she stumbles through a mysterious door at her college graduation after-party and lands in a New York City speakeasy in the Roaring Twenties. Before she even figures out what’s going on, she’s in the lap of Blaze O’Rourke as they escape both a police raid and the dangerous criminal who is Blaze’s archenemy.

Blaze can’t resist the beautiful woman in his lap, but he’s determined to find out why she was singing in Vincent Cornell’s club. If that means kidnapping and seducing her, so be it. Cornell killed his brother and Blaze has been seeking revenge for two years. But Sasha’s presence re-awakes Blaze’s hunger for someone to love and he’s truly enjoying life—and sex—for the first time in years.
Then Cornell kidnaps Sasha, forcing Blaze to choose between revenge or love.

About the Author:
Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, living aboard a boat with her parents until the age of three. She has a degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London. In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and two children. You can find her on Twitter talking about tea, weather, and other random stuff at

Monday, January 27, 2014

My Writing Process 2014 Blog Hop

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I’m taking part in a fun blog hop to introduce some fellow authors and talk about writing process. I’d like to thank Beth Barany for inviting me to take part. She mentioned me in her blog post here:
We’ll each be answering four questions about our  writing process. Here are my answers:
1) What am I working on?

I’m currently writing Disarming Cowboys, which is book 7 (and the final) of the Lone Wolves of Shay Falls series.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I’ve read lots of hot cowboy or werewolf fiction, and occasionally even cowboy-werewolf fiction. This series, however, focuses on cowboys who can no longer be cowboys, thanks to the curse that turned them into predators that ranch animals fear. The Lone Wolves are members of a pack who was disbanded by the werewolf who killed their alpha. They wander the woods of Shay Falls in search of their destined mates and a new purpose for their lives.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I love writing about love that does not come easy, and how that human concept plays out in an inhuman, paranormal world. It’s a rewarding challenge to write a character’s struggle against fate and their own hearts vs. the reality around them.

4) How does my writing process work?

Once I have an idea for a book (sometimes a premise just comes to me, or else a title will hit me first, or a publisher will announce a submission call for a type of story that reaches out and grabs me), I’ll spend some time tossing the concept around in my brain. Break times at work, at night before I go to sleep, or during my officially scheduled “writing time” throughout the week, I’ll ruminate about the characters, what they want, their obstacles, etc.

Sometimes I’ll jump right in and write the story with just the bare bones in mind (the process called “pantsing”), but more often these days I’ll plot things out. I use software like Scrivener and Microsoft One Note to make virtual corkboards. One is for images to inspire me while writing—pictures of setting, characters, and special props. The other contains virtual index cards that become a storyboard for my scenes. Depending on the complexity of the story, sometimes I do individual storyboards for each character’s personal arc.

Once I’m ready to rock, I spend 3-5 days per week writing the book. (I take regular days off to avoid burnout and refill my creative cup.) I let completed manuscripts sit a spell before I start editing, usually while I’m jumping in to write or plot the next book.

Next week, look for the following hop stops talking about writing process and work in progress!

Jillian Chantal is the pen name of a lawyer who lives on the beautiful gulf coast of Florida. She writes romantic fiction as an escape from the sometimes not so happy endings that she encounters in her day job. Other hobbies include photography and scrapbooking. She loves to hear from readers. Her web site is 

Renee is a military brat turned military wife who is currently stationed in Hawaii with her husband and two cats. Whether writing as D. Renee Bagby or Zenobia Renquist, she is a world-builder. She loves inventing new cultures and shaping their histories and laws because it beats researching the existing ones. Her stories span the fantasy gamut but she dabbles in sci-fi and contemporary from time to time. While her main characters tend to be of different races, she doesn't let skin color rule or limit her stories. For her, it's all about how much she can torture her characters so they earn their happily-ever-after ending. The rules are all new and pre-conceived notions will only slow you down, so when reading Renee's stories, she asks only one thing -- Leave Your Reality Behind. You can find out more about her here:

Sunday, January 26, 2014

The Horse Whisperer -Snippet Sunday

12:00 AM 8 Comments
~~Warning: Adult Content~~

On Sundays, I share tidbits of my works in progress as part of Weekend Warrior’s 8-Sentence Sunday

I sent book 6 of my LONE WOLVES series off to the publisher last week, yay! So this week, I'm working on book 7, DISARMING COWBOYS. In today's snippet, Jayel is chained in a barn when she hears an odd, er, snippet of conversation...

The sound of the barn door being shoved open silenced Jayels thoughts, and she held her breath to listen. Boot steps headed her direction, along with the whistle of a jaunty little tune.
“Hey, girl,” a soft male voice said. “Ready to get out and stretch your legs?”
Jayel was about to make a smart ass reply to that when the boot steps stopped and she heard the squeak of a rusty hinge. One of the stalls was being opened.
“Somethin’ smells mighty good in here this mornin’, don’t it, Sunny? the man added in a soft, reassuring tone. No offense, but it ain’t you, old girl.

So, what do you suppose he thinks smells so good in that barn?

Find my Lone Wolves of Shay Falls series at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or at Bookstrand here:

Trailer for the Lone Wolves of Shay Falls series:

~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~ *~ *

For more awesome snippets, check out 


I'm J. Rose Allister, wife, working mom, and the author of over twenty-five books. Somewhere in between one and the next, I love hanging out here on my blog and over on Twitter. Give me a comment or follow-I love chatting with people!

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Dark Warrior -Guest Author Julie Shelton

12:00 AM 1 Comments
From time to time, I spotlight other authors and books on my blog. Today I'm pleased to welcome Julie Shelton, who's here to talk about how a French major's dissertation became a steamy erotic menage novel. (Two, actually.) Welcome, Julie! Tell us how DARK WARRIOR came about.

Julie Shelton

Dark Warrior is my third novel to be published, but it was the first novel I ever wrote, and that was over forty years ago.  Back in 1972, in order to graduate “With Honors”, I had to write a lengthy dissertation IN FRENCH (since French was my major) on a topic of my choosing.  So, I chose life in a 13th century French castle, thus cleverly uniting my love for the middle ages with the goal of graduating “Cum Laude”.  I began researching, taking notes the way I had previously found most effective for me—on 3 x 5 index cards, one thought or fact per card.  I quickly accumulated three shoe boxes full of notes on all aspects of daily life in the middle ages.

While I was studying the era, the germ of two completely different novels sprang full-blown into my mind, one inspired by my research, the other inspired by a blue gown worn by a minor character in the movie Becket.  I couldn’t write them down fast enough.  As it happened, I also wrote THEM on 3 x 5 index cards, one sentence at a time, thus enabling me to add scenes, switch scenes around, slip in research details, etc. as I went.  Each of those novels wound up filling two shoe boxes.  When I got my first computer back in 2003, Dark Warrior was the first thing I typed on my word processor.  I chose it because at one point I had DROPPED the shoe boxes containing the OTHER medieval novel, spilling index cards all over my driveway.  In the rain.  So I just scooped them up and shoved them back into the boxes.  I still have those boxes full of jumbled cards.  Not sure what I’m going to do with them.

 In the meantime, in my reading life, I had discovered the delights of erotic BDSM romance, so when the idea for Loving Sarah came to mind, I started writing.  After four years of polishing, and revising, I finally said, “Enough already,” and sent it off to Siren.  You can imagine how thrilled I was when they said they wanted to publish it!  My first book!  Owning Sarah, the sequel, contains quite a few scenes originally written for Loving Sarah, so I wrote it next.  As I was working on it, I realized that my 14th-century novel could quickly be brought into the 21st century (so to speak) with a few revisions, updates, and rewrites, so Dark Warrior became my next project.  When it was published on January 15, my first book became my third book.

by Julie Shelton

When Nicholas Herron, Duke of Berwick and his best friend, Rolf Torgesson, two of King Edward III’s most powerful and respected knights, discover a badly beaten young woman hiding in the forest, they swear to protect her.  By the time they learn that she is Lady Kathryn Weston, and that her attacker is none other than her betrothed, Robert Walford, the powerful and ruthless Duke of Pemberton, it is too late.  They have both fallen in love with her and she with them—a love so forbidden it could cost them everything, even their lives.
Set amidst the turmoil and pageantry of 14th-century England, Dark Warrior weaves a vivid tapestry of three lost souls bound to each other with a deep, abiding love.  But will that love survive Walford’s evil plan to attack Berwick Castle, take it apart stone by stone and ultimately destroy everyone who lives there?

After realizing they were still asleep, she simply lay there, unmoving.  She didn’t want to wake them.  She needed this time to herself.  To think.  So much had happened today, she hadn’t had a chance to think about Robert Walford.  To replay the horror of his brutal confrontation over and over in her mind.
He had called her a whore.
A whore!
She cringed inwardly, hearing its vicious echo again in her mind’s ear.  Hearing the utter contempt in his voice as he had spat it at her, as if she were something ugly.  Something unclean.
Whore.  It was, after all, just a word, its power to damage and punish technically no greater than any other word.  Yet, coming from his mouth, used the way he had used it, it had been a hateful weapon hurled at her with intent to maim and destroy.
Whore.  The ugliest word she knew.  Made even uglier by the sheer viciousness of it as it had spewed from Walford’s ugly mouth.
But was it true?  Was she a whore?
She was, after all, in love with two men.  Two primal, dominant males.  She had given herself freely and wholeheartedly to those two men.  Had taken them both inside her eager body in ways that thrilled her to her very soul to even think about.  And she couldn’t wait to do it again and again.
`Did that make her a whore?
It certainly made her a sinner, according to the Church.  Damned for all eternity in the eyes of God.  According to the Church.  Except she didn’t believe in the God espoused by the Church.  She didn’t believe in a vengeful, petty God just waiting to pounce gleefully on unwary sinners.  A God bent on punishing every little weakness, just as the nuns had punished her in His name at the convent.  Nay, she just had to believe that, if there truly was a God, He was a whole lot more loving and humane than the God worshipped by those nuns.
Nicholas was awake.  She knew it instantly and, just as instantly, knew the reason why. Rolf had awakened also, making absolutely no sound that she had been able to discern.  Yet, that powerful, mysterious link between the two men had inexplicably alerted them both, bringing them to wakefulness at the same time.
She lay still and silent, eyes closed, keeping her breathing smooth and even so as not to betray her own wakefulness.
Rolf opened his eyes, but he didn’t otherwise move.  “Dost thou think she’s all right?” he whispered softly above Kathryn’s head.
“Aye.”  Nicholas’s mouth twisted.  “She is stronger than she looks.”
Rolf sighed.  “By all the gods, Nick.  That was the most awful thing I have ever been forced to witness.  I never wanted to kill anyone so badly in my entire life.”  He shook his head. “It was all I could do to stop myself from jumping over the table and running him through. Odin’s beard!  I have never felt so helpless.”  His voice was a raw whisper in her ear.  “I just wanted to pick her up and carry her out of there and make love to her until I could wipe that terrible, haunted look from her eyes.”
“I know,” Nicholas agreed, wincing.  “When he called her a whore—Christ, the look on her face—I never want to see that look on her face ever again—”His voice broke.  “Sweet Jesu!  It nearly destroyed me.  “His arm tightened involuntarily around Kathryn’s recumbent form.  “I cannot even begin to imagine what it did to her.”  He blinked his eyes rapidly, his vision suddenly blurred by unshed tears.  His throat closed down.
Rolf yawned, nuzzling his cheek against Kathryn’s hair.  “I agree with Thomas,” he went on thoughtfully.  “I think he’ll make his first move at night with his war machines in a massive show of force.  The way he kept bragging about them, trying to impress us with his power and might—I just know that’s what he’s going to do.”  He sighed.  “But enough about Walford.  I’m tired of thinking about him.”
His smile, unseen in the dark, was evident in his voice.  “I just want to think about our sweet lady here, and see how many times we can make her come with our loving.”  He plumped the soft flesh of her breast as his thumb and forefinger grabbed the hard nipple and tweaked it gently.
Pleasure jolted through her body and she gasped, arching her back to push herself harder against his pleasuring hand.  Her eyes flew open to find Nicholas smiling at her, his eyes hot and hungry.  Her lungs seized and all of a sudden she couldn’t breathe.
“I thought you were awake,” he accused mildly.  “How long?”
“A while,” she confessed, slightly breathless from Rolf’s thumb stroking across her nipple like a lash.  “I was thinking about some of the things Walford said.”
“Ignore the things he said, yndling,” Rolf murmured, sliding his tongue into the ticklish cavity of her ear.  She squealed in pleasure as he stroked her sensitive skin.  “They have naught to do with thee.”
“But they do,” she wailed, and she suddenly realized that she was crying.  Hot, desperate tears she was helpless to prevent or control.  “He called me a-a—”
“Nay, beloved.”  Nicholas quickly placed his fingers against her lips.  “Stay.  Do not bring that villain into our sanctuary.”
“But he called me a—”
As one they rolled her onto her back and rose above her, resting on their elbows so they could look down into her face.
“This is the only time I am ever going to say this, beloved,” Nicholas said sternly, stroking his hard fingers across her satiny smooth cheek.  “So listen well.  You are not a whore.  You are the purest, most loving, most generous woman I have ever known.”
“But I love sex!” she cried and to her utter shock, both men burst out laughing.
“That doesn’t make thee a whore, yndling,” Rolf chuckled, once again covering one soft, fleshy breast with his big hand.  “That makes thee a miracle.”

About the Author
Julie has always loved stories, both reading and writing them. A career as a children’s librarian eventually led to her dream career as a freelance storyteller and puppeteer, a business she operated successfully for twenty-five years. During that time she created and wrote all the original material for a monthly language arts resource newsletter for early childhood educators.  For that endeavor she won the prestigious EDPRESS Award, given by the Educational Press Association of America.  She has also written other resource materials for preschool and early elementary teachers.

Now she writes erotic romances, thus following the basic children’s-performer-to-erotica-author career path blazed by so many of her fellow writers. 

Connect with Julie:

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

A Steamy Warm-Up Routine -#MFRWhooks

12:00 AM 0 Comments
MFRW Authors Blog
 ~~~Today's hook contains mature themes~~~

On select Wednesdays, get hooked with short but sweet snippets of romance tales you'll want to put straight onto your TBRN (To Be Read NOW!) list.

This week's book hook (modified for length):
Kata Sutra
by J. Rose Allister

Makoto pushed Desiree’s flexibility to the limit by leaning inward until he was nearly against her, and the thigh now up near her shoulder burned in warning. With his hard body just inches from her fully spread legs, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering—and the cry of celibacy longing for an end. She was considering something suicidal, like accidentally groping the obvious bulk in his loose-fitting karate trousers, when at last he released her leg.
“Other side,” he said.
If he had any idea what was burning through her nasty mind—and pelvis—she'd probably be banned from karate for life. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice. An assistant teacher like Mak no doubt shoved himself between women's legs all the time.
Wasn't that something.

About Kata Sutra:
When Desiree signs up for eight weeks of self-defense classes, the last thing she expects is hands-on, two-on-one training in erotic arts from a pair of muscled and breathtakingly gorgeous karate instructors. But can the passion they share survive the secrets each of them is hiding?

Check out these other Book Hooks!

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J. Rose Allister is the author of more than twenty-five books, primarily romance and erotic romance. A former editor and submissions director, she now works as a mild-mannered hospital secretary by day, naughty writer by night. Connect with her on Twitter or Facebook. She loves talking to people.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Decadent Rum Balls -Guest Author Berengaria Brown

12:00 AM 4 Comments
It's Too Yummy Tuesday!

On select Tuesdays I share delicious recipes either inspired by my books or that are just plain delicious! Today I'm happy to have special guest Berengaria Brown, author of Naked for her Two Masters. She's  here to share her sinfully good rum ball recipe!! Take it away, Berengaria!

Decadent Rum Balls anyone?

Just because the holidays are long gone, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy some decadent rum balls. After all, we need some rum to warm us up on these cold nights, don’t we?


* Vegetable oil, cooking spray
* 3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
* 6 ounces semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
* 3 large eggs
* 1/2 cup packed light-brown sugar
* 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
* 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
* 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
* 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons dark rum
* Coarse sanding sugar, for rolling
1. Preheat oven to 350. Coat a 12-by-17-inch rimmed baking sheet with cooking spray; set aside. Melt butter and chocolate in a small heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water, stirring occasionally. Set aside.
2. Whisk together eggs, brown sugar, vanilla, and salt in a large bowl. Stir in chocolate mixture, then fold in flour. Pour batter into prepared baking sheet. Spread evenly with a rubber spatula. Bake until top is shiny and a cake tester inserted into center comes out with some crumbs attached, about 10 minutes. Let cool completely on a wire rack.
3. Break up brownie into small pieces; transfer to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. With machine on low speed, pour in rum, and mix until crumbs start to come together to form a ball.
4. Shape into 1-inch balls, and roll in sanding sugar to coat. Transfer to a baking sheet; refrigerate, uncovered, until cold, about 2 hours. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

Naked for Her Two Masters 
(MFM) The Wolf Masters Bk 1
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Andorra Yasbit’s father took off with a blonde bimbo and her stepmother closed their apartment. So Andorra hikes up a mountain and discovers a wonderful hot spring. The only problem is the werewolf who owns it is Master Kingston, who’s used to being pursued by gold digging women. And he has an equally Dominant best friend, Master Raleigh. They don’t believe she’s arrived by accident. 

The two men take Andorra to the dungeon, but instead of being scared Andorra revels in the punishment and orgasms. The men can’t find any evidence Andorra has been lying to them, but Master Kingston can’t bring himself to trust her either. And the more time they spend together, the stronger the attraction between the three of them grows. Kingston is determined to break her and prove she’s deceitful. Raleigh wants to believe her but owes his allegiance to his Alpha. What can Andorra do to demonstrate she’s telling the truth?

About the Author:
Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man, three men/one woman…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

Berengaria Brown

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