Amelia, Book One in The Marriage Market Series is still hanging onto the #1 slot on Amazon in Victorian Erotica. With 23 reviews, 19 of them 5 star, I'm thrilled. May has been a horrendous month for me, and I won't be a bit sorry to welcome June. My health issues have put a cramp in my style, for sure, but I'm still hoping to have Book Two, Grace, out sometime in June. Not only have I had Shingles for the entire month of May, but because of them I've developed some other health issues. I now get to add Nitro to my allergy bracelet as it damned near killed me the night before last. I mean really, enough is enough. Thankfully my characters are patient. Grace and Effie are waiting for me to write the last two chapters and the brides are honing up on their social graces, hoping to catch grooms of their own. I'm looking forward to finishing Grace's story and moving onto Effie's and some of the other girls. I'd like to give a special Thank You to the staff at Blushing Books for all their support. The Blushing family, including the other authors have been wonderful! Stevie
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They've got to find a cruel serial killer, but their attraction might be deadlier. Bestselling author, Patricia Green, is a full-time fiction writer specializing in erotic romance. She provides the reader with love stories that emphasize fun characters with quirky personalities. Patricia is the author of more than 20 published novels and novellas as well as an ever-growing collection of short stories. In her personal life, Patricia is married and the mother of twins. When she’s not being the angel of domestic harmony and a semi-crazed creator of fictional friends, she loves to read, crochet, knit and watch hockey. Let's check out her newest release. Striker Jase Striker, police detective and gritty noire aficionado, doesn't want a partner on the job. When saddled with a sexy new colleague—a rookie in the Homicide division—he's at first irritable. Over time that irritation slowly morphs into a blistering passion, taking their partnership to a new, erotic level that includes a bare-bottomed spanking when needed. But he fears what mixing work with pleasure will do to his crime fighting abilities. Rookie homicide detective, Angelica Piccolino, is tired of being treated like a kid though her diminutive size and grunge look add to that impression. But she's 26, and no stranger to the street or the bedroom. A real woman can take a spanking now and then...as long as it's from a man she respects. Forced to work together as a team, Striker and Piccolino investigate a heartbreaking case involving three young women, murdered and left like human garbage, except for a single white rose. The detectives need to discover the identity of the white rose murderer fast--before another victim turns up Excerpt: Donati and I both sat. “What’s this about, Striker? Problems with the case already?” “Not exactly, sir. More like with the partner you’ve given me. I’ve been operating pretty well since Smitty retired. I don’t need a wet-behind-the-ears rookie to babysit.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at me, his eyes inscrutable. Perhaps five seconds passed. I began to think I was supposed to say something else, but finally, he spoke. “Piccolino is qualified, Striker, or I never would have assigned her to you. She was one of the best detectives on the Vice Squad, an undercover operative who pulled in the bad guys like nobody’s business. But she became a known quantity on the street. Crooks had a habit of getting put away when she was around, and it seemed wiser to give her a different assignment where she could be herself.” “She looks like a teenager, sir. She even dresses like a teenager. Since when does a pink hoodie and a miniskirt qualify as professional clothes? How does that reflect on the department?” “Yeah, I already talked to her about that. She’ll be more business-like in the future.” I had my doubts, but kept them to myself. “How old is she? Twenty? How’d she get promoted so fast? Was she that hot with Vice?” “She’s twenty-six, but you could have asked her yourself. Piccolino just looks like a teenager. It’s gotten her pretty far, but she’s done her time on the team. I think you’ll find her knowledgeable. The only thing is…” Oh, great. There was a but in there. “Yeah?” “She’s a little bit of a hotshot. Takes chances when maybe she shouldn’t. When she was out on the streets with punks on her case, she had to be sharp and steady working on her own. It got her used to risky police work.” Honest to God, I tried not to grit my teeth. My dentist would have caught me, but Donati didn’t. “So, I’m supposed to keep her in line, while training her for the Homicide Division, and solving crimes. Piece of cake,” I said, scowling. “Damn it, Striker. Stop whining and get to work. You have a partner. She’s talented. You have experience and will be perfect for showing her the ropes. Now, get outta here.” Maybe I was whining. The thing is, I enjoyed working on my own. When my partner retired, it was like I’d been freed from lock down. I could handle the cases the way I wanted to, following a logical progression, rather than following hunches and guesses. Sure, sometimes a hunch can lead you to an answer, but just as often they waste your time. Maybe Piccolino was meticulous, too. I wouldn’t know if I didn’t give her a chance. “Okay,” I said as I rose and turned toward the door. “Oh, and Striker—” “Yeah?” “Don’t fuck it up.” What could I say to that? I twisted the doorknob and made my silent exit. Buy links: Amazon Barnes & Noble All Romance eBooks You can reach Patricia Green in the following ways: Email: pig (at) patriciagreenbooks (dot) com Website/Blog: http://www.patriciagreenbooks.com Facebook http://www.facebook.com/Patricia.Green.Romance Twitter: @PatriciaIGreen Google+: http://plus.google.com/+PatriciaGreen Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Patricia-Green/e/B002RCB0IK/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1 Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4541511.Patricia_Green Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/patriciaigreen/ This week, Amelia is sitting at #1 on Amazon in Erotic Victorian and #2 in Historical. I'm so grateful for the wonderful reviews and all the support I've received, not only from readers, but from my publisher, Blushing Books and other authors as well. The story takes place in the Pacific Northwest during the late 1800's. While it's on the sweet side in the erotic romance genre, there's still plenty of spice. Fresh out of Mrs. Pettigrew's School for Young Ladies, Amelia Westcott and her two best friends are ready for adventure. Suddenly a life filled with social obligations and meaningless gossip seems unappealing. On a whim the girls investigate the phenomena of young women heading west to marry, and Amelia is captivated by the freedom such a decision offers. Hugh Jordon needs a wife. The severe shortage of women in the Pacific Northwest makes advertising for a bride seems reasonable. As long as he finds a wife who is the exact opposite of his tempestuous mother, he’ll be well satisfied. Studying the applicants, he chooses one that seems to best fit his needs, and delegates his head clerk with the critical task of sending polite rejections to the others. Unfortunately, most of them never get the letter Hugh anticipated and soon the brides descend, all expecting to marry the same man! Amelia is horrified, and realizes that the adage "marry in haste, repent at leisure" has never been more true. How could he do that to her? What sort of man was he, to propose to so many women? She simply must have their wedding annulled and return to Massachusetts at once. Hugh has other ideas. In his opinion, the perfect place for his bride to learn about faith, loyalty and commitment is in his home and over his knee! Excerpt: “Tell me; what do you know about the things that take place between a man and a woman?” he asked gently. Striding to her, he softly cupped her cheek with his palm. “I…” “Come, Amelia, you must have heard something, some juicy tidbits of information overheard when young girls are not supposed to be listening.” “I haven’t heard much, really,” she stammered, looking away. “Only that it’s painful and I should lay there and think of other things as I wait for it to be over.” Hugh smiled and pulled her close, holding her head to his chest. Good lord, she was priceless. “Why don’t you describe to me what you expect to happen?” he suggested. “Well,” she whispered, “I don’t know for sure but I’ve imagined it would start with a kiss or two.” “Yes, it usually does, go on.” “Then you would tell me to take off my clothes and lay on the bed.” “If does help if we dispense with clothing,” he agreed, nearly biting his lip. “However, I would definitely want to undress you myself. That’s actually one of my favorite parts. What then?” “I’m not sure, you understand, but I think the man would…” “By ‘the man’ I assume you mean me?” “What, oh yes, I guess so.” “Good. Go on.” “Well, I imagine you would want me to spread my legs and then you would…you would…” “I would what?” he asked, genuinely curious as to how she would describe it. “Oh God, you would mount me,” she croaked out, burying her face in his chest. “Mount you? You mean like a fish on the wall?” he asked, chuckling. Amelia reared her head and glared at him. “Or maybe like the giant head of a stag,” he offered. “You know that’s not what I mean,” she snapped, giving him a crisp slap on the chest. “I guess it would be more like mounting a horse or something you were planning to ride. Oh dear, I don’t think I can go through with this. Perhaps I shall never marry.” “I’m pretty sure you will, darling.” Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to a large upholstered chair and sat, keeping her on his lap. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you have several things quite wrong,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “I do?” she asked hopefully. Do you want to know what happens? I was hoping you would. Here are the buy links. Amazon Amazon UK Barnes & Nobel Blushing Books Thanks for stopping by. Stevie Fresh out of Mrs. Pettigrew's School for Young Ladies, Amelia Westcott and her two best friends are ready for adventure. Suddenly a life filled with social obligations and meaningless gossip seems unappealing. On a whim the girls investigate the phenomena of young women heading west to marry, and Amelia is captivated by the freedom such a decision offers. Hugh Jordon needs a wife. The severe shortage of women in the Pacific Northwest makes advertising for a bride seems reasonable. As long as he finds a wife who is the exact opposite of his tempestuous mother, he’ll be well satisfied. Studying the applicants, he chooses one that seems to best fit his needs, and delegates his head clerk with the critical task of sending polite rejections to the others. Unfortunately, most of them never get the letter Hugh anticipated and soon the brides descend, all expecting to marry the same man! Amelia is horrified, and realizes that the adage "marry in haste, repent at leisure" has never been more true. How could he do that to her? What sort of man was he, to propose to so many women? She simply must have their wedding annulled and return to Massachusetts at once. Hugh has other ideas. In his opinion, the perfect place for his bride to learn about faith, loyalty and commitment is in his home and over his knee! Snippet: When Amelia finally disembarked from the Mystic Maiden she was dressed head to toe in black and it infuriated him. His beautiful bride appeared to be in mourning and he wondered if one of the women in her entourage planned on shooting him. They moved down the gangway in mass as he watched from the ship's rail. Hugh had just started down the gangway when his brother Samuel met him. “Welcome home,” Sam said, slinging an arm around his back. “Where’s your new bride? Mother and father are anxious to meet her and have planned a welcome home dinner.” “See that little speck of black in the middle of those women?” Hugh asked pointing to the group waiting on the wharf. Sam followed his direction and nodded. “That’s her.” “Well, go and fetch her. Why isn’t she by your side?” he asked realizing something was very wrong. “It’s a long story, and at this point a very ugly one,” Hugh replied. “She’s in mourning?” “Apparently.” “Who died?” “No one yet, but it’s still early,” Hugh drawled looking at the sky. “I take it you’re not exactly in a state of marital bliss?” “Far from it, in fact I don’t see how things can get any worse.” Watching a huge crowd of men gather around the women Hugh clenched his fists. He wanted to go down there, push his way through the crowd and toss Amelia over his shoulder. There were too many hungry eyes for his liking. She should be home, with him, getting her naughty ass paddled good. How dare she believe him capable of such trickery, such underhanded, conniving deceit? Amelia, The Marriage Market, Book One, is available this weekend at the sale price of $2.99 on Amazon only. On Monday it will return to the regular price of $4.99 and will be available on Blushing Books, Barnes & Noble, etc. Thanks for stopping by and checking out my new release. I know I haven't been around much, but a case of Shingles has laid me low :( Stevie As Mac falls deeper in love with Annie, his past haunts him. He failed to keep the woman he loved safe before and he vowed he’d never fail again. Annie’s fierce independent streak doesn't make it easy for him. She's created a life for herself, certain she can make it on her own. Filled with passion, suspense, and humor, their love story unfolds with twists and turns neither of them saw coming. Mac needs Annie, but will it be too late by the time she realizes she needs him too? Excerpt: Annie sat with her feet up on the couch as Mac began to pace back and forth, raking his hands through his hair. It was all he could do not to shake the daylights out of her. “You could have been killed,” he yelled as Annie scooted into a corner of the couch and grabbed a pillow. “What the hell did you think you were going to do, rush out there and save me? You don’t have one ounce of trust in me do you?” “No, I mean yes, I do. Mac, I looked out the window and saw there were three of them against you and I had to do something.” “You were supposed to call the Police and get under the bed. What part of that did you not understand?” “Nothing, I understood you, but hiding under the bed, geez Mac, that’s the first place a killer looks for a person.” “I wasn’t telling you to hide. For God’s sake, Annie; they were smashing your windows and if they’d hit either of the windows over your bed, you could have been seriously hurt. I don’t know why you don’t listen to what I tell you to do. How many times have I told you when I give you an order, you had damn well better obey me?” Mac was visibly shaking now he was so furious with her. “I’m sorry, Mac, really I am; I was just trying to help.” Annie started to sniffle. “I was so afraid they would hurt you.” “I didn’t need any damn help and even if I did, you were supposed to be under the bed where you would be safe. Get your clothes; we’re not staying here.” Annie got up and started to hobble toward the bedroom. “Never mind; sit down. I’ll get them myself,” he ordered. Mac went into the bedroom and threw a bunch of her clothing into her suitcase. He was so mad; he wasn’t even sure what the hell he packed. “Here, put some clothes on,” he demanded as he tossed a skirt and a top at her from across the room. “I need some underwear,” Annie said, her voice cracking as she made her request. “Wear what I gave you!” She obeyed and dressed quickly, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Mac carried their bags to his car and returned to get Annie. When he reached the door, she had put on a pair of flip flops and was walking toward him. “I told you to sit down and I don’t remember telling you to get up.” “I’m okay, really I am. My feet don’t even hurt.” Well, good,” he said as he threw her over his shoulder and walked to the car. “I wouldn’t want to correct you if you were already hurting from the cuts.” Oh shit, she was in big trouble now and she knew it. “Well,” she pleaded, “there is a little bit of pain when I walk.” “Bullshit!” He set her down and leaned her over the hood of his car. Lifting up her skirt, he landed five well placed smacks on her little bottom. “No, please don’t,” she cried out. “Save your pleading for later; not that it will do you any good.” He ignored her sobs as he laid down five more hard slaps. “Consider that a little something for the road,” he said as he put her in the front seat none too gently. “And know that I’m not finished. I could have been picking your dead body up off the ground tonight and you would have been gone from my life forever.” He went back to lock the front door and wondered why he even bothered. Buy links for MacDermot's Bride: Amazon US Amazon UK Barnes&Noble Kobo iBooks All Romance Scribd Page Foundry Where to find Keriann: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/keriann.mckenna Website: keriannmckenna.com Blog: http://keriannmckenna.weebly.com/ Twitter: @keriannmckenna I have to post today, as I'm feeling at least okay and have no idea what tomorrow will bring. Mother's Day is just one of the days of the year I think about my Mom. Actually I think about her every day. I miss her every day. I talk to her every day and what's more, she talks to me. Not in a creepy, weird, I talk to dead people sense, but in the sense that I know her so well and can anticipate what she would say if she were still here. I hear her voice frequently offering advice, encouragement, and warnings. Every time I open a jar of Ragu Thick and Hearty sauce I hear her. "Look at all the sauce in the bottom of that jar. You could put a little cold water in there and rinse it out." "Ma, if I wanted thin sauce, I would but the cheap stuff." "I know, but it's just so wasteful." I don't believe I've opened a jar of Ragu and not rinsed it out since she passed away from breast cancer on 07/03/1998. In fact I often say out loud, "See Ma, I'm rinsing." When ever I drip food onto my shirt, (which is often and comes with the territory when you're big breasted) I hear the word 'slobber-honis'. I have no idea where it came from, or the origin, but she always said it when she slopped something down the front of her. Tomorrow, Bill and I and the girls will take flowers to her grave, red for Mom and pink for Grandma. It's a small thing, and I know she's not there, but just in case she's watching I want her to know I am following through on the things she taught me and that she's never far from our hearts and minds. I hope all of you have a wonderful Mother's Day and those of you who are like me and your Mom is no longer with you, I hope your day is filled with cherished memories. |
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