What a year this has been!!
For those of you who don’t know me well or who haven’t followed me on various sites, I’m a working author. That means, I write everyday of the year except for Christmas Day. In addition to that, I do have a full-time EDJ (Evil Day Job).
However, writing is my first love.
This year I’ve had numerous release with two of them published this month. Come Fill Me, erotic paranormal and Book One in The Prophecy series, released December 18 from Samhain Publishing.
Losing Control, Book Two in my Appointment with Pleasure series for Ellora’s Cave, releases today.
For me, that’s the greatest holiday gift of all!
Here are the blurbs and brief excerpts from both books. Enjoy!!
Two men will stop at nothing to have her gift, her desire…and her love.
Years ago, with the healing abilities afforded by her blend of Aztec and extraterrestrial blood, Liz was free to do as she wished. Now she is trapped in a blood feud, forced to heal one of her clan’s most dangerous rivals so they can exploit his gift of prophecy.
As she drapes her nude body over his, the rush of his returning strength overwhelms her, and his stunningly sensual caress pushes her to her sexual limit.
Zeke Neekoma never expected to hunger for a woman he’s supposed to hate, but now that he’s tasted her, he has no intention of denying himself the pleasure of her body—or of kidnapping his enemy’s most cherished plaything.
Brought to Zeke’s stronghold to heal his brother, Jacob, Liz surrenders her body’s most traitorous needs to the unrestrained desires of two powerful men. And the brothers fill the lonely void she has too long endured.
But her clan doesn’t intend to let her go without a fight…and the ecstasy that binds Liz to her lovers could be the thing that breaks them.
Worlds collide when two Alpha males crave a woman they shouldn’t have. Their dominance and desire knows no limits, culminating in sex so torrid this babe’s never gonna be the same…or free of one brother’s touch.
Naked, he lay in the center of the king-sized bed. His breaths were quiet, his eyes closed, legs sprawled, one arm draped over his head as though he was sleeping.
The bullet holes in his muscular left pec contradicted that notion.
Forcing down a swallow, Liz pulled her attention from his wounds—three perfect black circles—to his face.
Her lips parted on a quiet sigh. Rarely had she seen a man wear such a look of serenity. So unlike the terror she’d witnessed on Carreon’s features or those of his men when they’d been so close to death.
Zeke Neekoma was different. The words boyish and innocent came to mind, which Liz dismissed quickly.
Looking to be in his early thirties, he was no boy. Nor was he innocent. His size, surely six-three, his sharp, masculine features and powerful form were perfect for battle against men and carnal sin with women.
Heat suffused Liz, making her limbs feel heavy and weak. She recalled what Carreon and his men had told her about Zeke, no doubt a mixture of truth and lies. Not knowing which was which, she regarded his sinewy legs, long cock and weighty balls as she moved deeper into the dimly lit room. Spanish-style lamps created pools of honeyed light, giving the space a sacred feel one might experience in a church. The cherry-wood four-poster dominated the sparsely furnished chamber, while a series of leather wing chairs—reserved for observers—circled the bed.
The man who’d been guarding Zeke left the room. Carreon and his men went to their seats, their weight causing the chairs’ legs to scrape against the polished hardwood floor.
For one foolish moment, Liz thought the intrusive noise would cause Zeke to open his eyes and lose his blissful expression. That he’d ask why they’d pulled him from such blessed rest and what appeared to be happiness.
This man didn’t want to be healed. Liz knew it in her soul; saw it in the upward curve of his beautiful mouth. Was he the same as her father, tired of fighting? Or was he welcoming the end so he could reunite with someone he’d loved?
His parents and siblings, perhaps…or a wife.
Liz studied his cock, its root nestled in a bush of black curls, his testicles lightly furred with short, dark hairs. Ones many women had surely licked, tasted, enjoyed, given his rough good looks and virile form.
Images rose in Liz’s mind. She pictured him standing before her, his size and manner imposing but not threatening, allowing genuine arousal, not feigned obedience, to guide the act. On her knees at his feet, she’d tend to him, cradling his sac in her palm, allowing its wrinkled skin to rest against her birthmark that proved she had the healing gift.
Would he sense the spark of energy her touch generated? Would he pull her power into himself?
If he did, Liz knew how she’d respond, parting her lips to deliver pleasure, drawing her tongue down his cock’s base to its plump head, tracing the prominent veins that snaked over the thick column, tasting its faint saltiness. Within her caress, his rod would lengthen and harden.
Gratified at what she’d accomplished, she’d inhale deeply, filling herself with his musk, indulging in its unique fragrance as she licked his crown. Silky beyond expectation, the succulent flesh would fill her mouth as she coaxed him inside, opening her throat so he could slide into her, as deep as a man could go.
He’d struggle against release as most men did, but her mouth and tongue would work him as her cunt never could. On an unrestrained growl, he’d climax, and she’d accept his thick, salty come, delighting in it.
A new rush of warmth stung Liz’s chest, traveling to her belly and sheath. A pulse ticked deep within.
When it comes to passion, there are no rules…
She wasn’t supposed to hunger for him. Tim Bellamy was off-limits to Catherine, a high-priced call girl with an uneasy past. Indulging in his raw desire shouldn’t have happened, especially at a District party attended by the nation’s elite. Tim doesn’t know she works for the agency. If he did… That’s not something Catherine wants to confess. Drowning in his strength and heat, aching to see him again, she keeps her secret.
From old wealth, Tim has never met anyone quite like Catherine. Exotic, elegant, earthy, she’s the best of all worlds. Their evenings are sensual delights where voyeurism, bondage and a growing bond satisfy carnal needs and stir something deep within…until he stumbles upon the truth.
Shaken by her lies, Tim needs to prove the depth of Catherine’s lust and yearning once and for all. For him, their erotic adventure has only begun…
He was the one man she’d been forbidden to meet…to sleep with, exploring her most pressing carnal needs. With him, there would be many. Deep, hungry kisses, the feel of his nudity confining hers. His body hot, hard, demanding. His clean skin scented with musk.
At the thought of what she wasn’t allowed, Catherine Oliver whimpered.
He didn’t hear. He was in the foyer, at the bottom of the mansion’s sweeping staircase, one of tonight’s party attendees, not yet aware of her presence.
Good sense told Catherine to slip back into the powder room where she’d checked her makeup and hair a few minutes before. A group of women exited the spacious room now, some young, others matronly, all decked out in pricey gold necklaces, shimmering diamonds, rubies, pearls, designer silks and velvets. They left a trail of subtle perfume in their wake as they moved past her and the landing to the far end of the hall. Expensive fabrics swirled delicately around their ankles, a perfect match to their well-bred murmurs and subdued laughter.
Beneath it, Catherine heard Alexa Marsh’s warning in her mind.
“Tim Bellamy might be at the party this evening. He’s bad news, believe me. Stay away from him.”
Catherine didn’t retreat, not taking as much as a step back.
A lifetime of having others say she couldn’t do this or couldn’t be that had nurtured a stubborn streak. It and pure will had propelled her from less-than-humble beginnings to this Georgetown estate tonight. What she knew of Tim Bellamy—along with seeing him in the flesh, so to speak—kept her rooted to the spot, curious, needy for more. She trailed her fingertips over the polished mahogany banister, imagining she was touching the hard planes of his chest, his strong arms, his cock stiffened for her alone.
God, he was something.
In his early thirties, he wore his dark blond hair cropped short on the sides with a bit of length at the top. After a few minutes of bed play, those thick locks would surely tumble over his forehead. His eyes were gray, his features masculine, downright aristocratic, a strong jaw and rich mouth. The kind a long-ago ruler might have owned, his deep baritone equally impressive as he ordered his newest concubine…an untried virgin…to pleasure him or else.
On a quiet sigh, Catherine leaned against the rail, drinking him in.
Despite his blond hair and ashy eyes, his complexion was a healthy bronze, as though he’d recently spent time in sun-drenched climes rather than the District’s dreary winter. It wasn’t hard to imagine him naked on a beach, his lean, muscled body flexing with each step he took across the sand, or him riding a horse bareback, his strong thighs hugging the animal, the breeze tugging his hair.
A wave of warmth radiated from Catherine’s chest to her face. She gripped the rail, unable to pull her attention from him.
His expensive tux draped his frame perfectly. He was a tall man. Six-two according to the dossier the agency had on him. One she’d gone through repeatedly, drooling over his photos, impressed by his education and that he’d turned his back on his family’s business to carve out a career of his own. Not only had he succeeded in that endeavor, those on the Hill respected him. Whether his stand on issues was popular or not, he was a man others knew would never go back on his word. He never promised what he couldn’t deliver. He didn’t lie.
Catherine liked that and wished she could say the same about herself, rather than watching him like some sicko voyeur. It was all she was allowed and it wasn’t nearly enough. Neither were the details she knew about him from his file, compiled shortly before he and his friends, Hunt and David, had spent an evening with Alexa, with Hunt falling for her. At the time, Alexa was one of the most popular young women at the escort agency and had called herself Magique.
She now ran the place, gathering information on clients, making certain none of them were weird or would harm the escorts. Whether Hunt liked her continued involvement in the business or not wasn’t something Alexa spoke about. However, Catherine knew Hunt would never allow another man to touch Alexa again. He’d wooed, then claimed her for his own.
Catherine tried to imagine such devotion for herself, a man wanting her no matter where she’d come from, how she earned her living now.
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.