Saturday, January 31, 2015

Hungry Lovers, Ravenous Desire #RomanceReads #Romance

Ripped clothes, spilled paint, uninhibited passion--Dancing Barefoot is on Scintillating Sunday 

He stalked toward her until her back collided with her easel. His hands gripped the top of the canvas, arms pinned her where she stood. “I haven’t wanted to remember you in a very long time.”
“I suppose not.”
“But I have.”
“Me, too.” 
“Are you happy?”
“What do you mean?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Did you make the right choice? Leaving me? Leaving our life together? Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk out of your life forever.”
“What does it matter?  I can’t undo it.”
“Why is it a difficult question for you to answer? Why can’t you tell me that you have no regrets? I want to hear it.”
“Of course I have regrets, but so what?  What good does that do us?”
“That’s why I came here tonight, to see…”
“See what? I’ve done what I said I would do.” Pride forced her head high. “I’m up for associate partner at my firm. I’m a good—no, great—architect. We both succeeded without each other. Good for us.”
“You’re lying. You’re not happy.” His hand framed the side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “I see it in your face. It’s like you’ve died. You're living in the past, which tells me you're not that thrilled with the present.”
“When did you get so mean?” Too tired to fight, tears blurred her eyes. “Get out. Enough insults for one night. Just go.”
“Why are you still wearing my ring?” His voice was low and powerful in the small room.
“Why do you?”
“My ring.” Dark blond hair covered his left eye when he bent forward, only a breath away from her face. “Why are you wearing it? Does it mean anything to you or do you simply think it’s pretty?”
“Please go.” She flattened her hands against his chest, but wished she hadn’t.  The feel of his hard body beneath her hands liquefied her bones. 
He slammed his hand against the canvas, knocking it to the floor behind her.  “You just left. One day we’re living together, talking about creating a future, and then you walked away without ever looking back.”
“I look back in my own way. Often, too often, I need to grow up like you said.” Her lungs deflated like air from a balloon. Breathing ceased.  I needed to come back here to—”
“To be safe? To do the right thing?” He had her backed against the easel. “I thought you would at least stay in touch with me, the man you supposedly loved, the man you said you wanted to marry, the man you said you needed…but you disappeared.”
“You had my address. I didn’t disappear.” 
“You let me go without a word. Until today, I hadn’t heard from you in years, yet here you are wearing my ring.”
“I said I was sorry.” Every inch of her quaked with restrained emotion.  “Leave now. Go. Good luck with your exhibit, with your life, all of it.  Just get the hell out of my house.”
“Do you know why I brought your address with me? Do you?”
“You wanted to tell me off, right? That’s why you came here, to hurt me.”
“I wanted to show you how much I don’t care.”
“Doesn’t that show me how much you really do care?” She lifted her chin, determined not to cry.
A fraction of an inch separated their bodies. She dragged her gaze over the opened buttons of his shirt, over his neck, over his lips until resting on the deep green of his eyes. Damn, the man rocked the word 'sexy'.
Boldness replaced caution. 
Standing on tiptoes, she smoothed her hands along the front of his chest.  Touching him again was like coming home from a long, exhausting journey.
He shook his head once as if trying to clear his mind.  Only once.  He stared at her lips.  His hands curled around her forearms, but he didn’t push her away. 
“Kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth.
“No."  His hands slid up her arms before cupping the back of her head.
"I dare you."
"Never."
"I know you want to."
"I don't."
"Now who's the liar?" she asked, her teeth tugging at his lower lip.
Their mouths met in a kiss that melted her skin like candle wax, turning them into one being, one entity consumed by desire. To hell with restraint and regret. She needed this, needed him, here and now.
Passion overrode all other thought or senses. Her hands stroked his back, kneading and searching. Every sense was alive with his touch, with his kiss. The need for him was an ache that burned deep. Hot. Necessary. Urgent. Primal.
God, she had missed this, missed him.
He ripped her tank top in two and tossed the material aside. His hands squeezed her breasts while his mouth devoured her lips. 
She yanked his shirt free from his jeans and shoved it high on his chest, needing his skin against hers more than she'd ever needed anything in life.  Clothes fell away, bread crushed beneath their bodies, wine spilled from an overturned bottle at their feet.
  They fell against the easel, knocking the canvas and paint in every direction. A tangle of limbs, they made eye contact for a moment, chests heaving, breathing labored.
"This is wrong," he muttered against her skin. 
"Right. Always right with us." She sank her fingernails into his shoulders.
"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he said, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
His hands worked at pushing her yoga pants over her hips while his mouth claimed her breast.
She looped her toes in the waistband of his underwear and yanked them over his thighs.  Her hands sought his erection while her back arched with every stroke of his hands and every lick of his tongue.
He ground himself inside her with the intensity of repressed rage. Her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him as close as possible as he plunged deep inside her. 
Sex had never been tame with him, but this was animalistic. This was raw.  Teeth sank into skin. Nails scraped against each other's bodies. They rolled together, locked as one being. Streaks of yellow and red paint lined their faces, stuck in their hair, no one cared.
Waves of pleasure rolled through her veins like a tsunami until all strength left her body. She laughed, breathless, as her mouth sought his again in a kiss filled with satisfaction and surprise.
"Is this what you meant by a do-over?" He shoved his hands through her hair, palms framing her face, and stared into her eyes. His chest rose and fell against hers.
"Not exactly, but it'll do," she whispered, still out of breath, heartbeat slamming like a caged bird's wings inside her chest. 
His mouth sucked on her lower lip, tongue teased hers. "I don't know what to do with you, Jessica Moriarty."
"You've always known exactly what to do with me, Jacques Sinclair." She repeated the words they'd always said to one another. She dipped her finger into the wet yellow paint on the canvas beneath his head before smearing it across his chin and over his mouth. 
He grabbed her hand, linked his fingers with hers and stared into her eyes. Laughter faded. “This shouldn't have happened. I lost control, I always lose control around you.”
He rolled away and stared at the ceiling. Then he stood and pulled a piece of cheese from where it had stuck to his shoulder. Without looking at her, he dressed.
Rattled from the sex and his reaction, she stumbled to standing, grabbed the blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around herself. Man, she was on a roll today with fucking up her life. 
He walked down the stairs without saying a word. 
She returned to the kitchen to find him still waiting. She'd hoped he'd gone. 
Back against the wall, he finished buttoning his shirt. He hadn't bothered to wipe the streaks of paint from his face and hair; then again, neither had she. When he lifted his gaze to hers, he looked agonized. 
"I didn't intend on that. I should go," he said.
“Stay. Don't go. Maybe we should talk or something.” 
She wanted to scream, stomp her foot like a child, fall to her knees …anything to make him stay.
“There is someone else, Jess. Life moved on without you.” His quiet words sliced her heart into a million pieces. “I came here for answers, to understand. I didn't intend to rip your clothes off. I only wanted to understand why you left me. That’s all.”
“And now you understand?”

“No.” He shook his head, a slight grin curving his lips. “But I accept that I will never understand.”
She rubbed the palm of her hand over her face. Of course he had someone else. She had discarded him like a used napkin.
“You're serious with this woman? What you said about the different women all the time was just to hurt me, right?”
“Yes to both questions.”
A chasm ripped through the room, creating a space larger than the ocean that had once separated them. She felt the loss of him again, more powerful, more poignant than before.
“I wish it wasn’t like this between us…”
“I’m still the same man you left in Italy. The reasons you left haven’t changed.  I’m a gypsy at heart, never in one place longer than six months or so.” He looked at the matching ring on his finger and blew out a long breath.
“Please leave. Your girlfriend must be wondering what the hell you’re doing.”  She hugged her arms across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor. “Please leave, Jacques.”
“Am I wrong? Are you happy? Tell me I’m wrong about you. Tell me that you love being an architect. Tell me that you honestly don’t regret leaving me.” With every word, his face mirrored the agony she felt. “Tell me that you have no regrets, that you are happy with your life as it is now.”
“My life is damn near perfect.” She forced a smile. “Partnership is in sight, remember? Corner office here I come. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s a fucking love fest.”
 “It is time I let this go then.” With a quick movement, he pulled the ring from his finger and laid it on the back of the red chair.
She stared at the ring against the faded fabric. “Please don’t leave it. Like you said, it’s yours.”
“Keep it, throw it away, it no longer matters to me. Be well, bella.” Door open, he hesitated at the threshold and looked around the room before meeting her gaze again. 
Bella.  The word hung in the air as they stared at one another, the language of Italy dancing in her memory and tugging at her heart.
Caro…” she whispered.  
Without another look back, he closed the door behind him.
She listened to the fall of his footsteps on the stairs, the outside door opening and closing, and folded his ring into her palm. She pressed the closed fist against lips still swollen from his kiss. Silent tears streaked her face.
"What have I done?" Back against the door, she slid to the floor. The question she asked had no answer. Even she didn't know if she meant the past or the present; conflicting emotions meshed together in her brain like the various paint streaks staining her skin.

Blurb....

Success means different things to everyone. On the surface, Jessica Moriarty appears to have the world at her feet. An architect on the fast-track to a partnership and moving in all the right social circles, she's checking off the boxes on her to-do list. But she's living a lie. The 'perfect life' facade hides a heart filled with regret and a longing for a love she abandoned.


World-renowned photographer, Jacques Sinclair, doesn't need much to be happy. As long as he has his cameras, a backpack, and a good pair of walking shoes, he's content. No matter how far he travels, though, he can't escape the heartbreak of the one woman who'd been able to bring him to his knees.

A chance meeting brings Jacques and Jessica back together. Reunions aren't always happy—sometimes they stir up unwanted pain and forgotten passion. As they stumble their way back to one another, they're ensnared in a web of conspiracy, manipulation, and sabotage designed to keep them apart. Will they be able to break free of the ties that bind them to seize the love of a lifetime? Or will the pressure to conform rip them apart forever? 



Thursday, January 29, 2015

Self-love and #erotica ....they go...well, hand in hand! Friday Funnies- Hilarious #masturbation scenes #sexuality @vampauthormaya

FORBIDDEN FRUIT FRIDAY



Masturbation and Erotica

Self-love and erotica... they just go, well, hand-in-hand! 

Okay, so if the thought of double clicking your mouse never crossed your mind after reading a hot, romantic and utterly steamy scene with the perfect man or woman, I trust you. 

NOT! 

Did I just make you uncomfortable? Get over it!

There is nothing wrong in finding enjoyment in this week's post or even admitting to having the thought of self-love run through your mind one time or another. I'm not asking you to admit to it! LOL!

And equally as important...there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed with the mention of masturbation. In fact, stroking the one-eyed snake or polishing your pearl has many positive and healthy aspects. 

Don't believe me? Read this.

This post is all about fun and being open-minded- free of any hangups with sex. 

So in-keeping with my openness about sexuality combined with my humor, I give you:

Hilarious Masturbation Scenes



Hopefully I tickled your funny bone for this Friday. And since we are heading into that glorious event call THE WEEKEND, let me tempt you with some of my book trailers to see if you'd be inclined to sate anything else.  




My Theatrical Book Trailers



Flesh Fantasy

Veil of Seduction



Blood of Luna


Dark Companion

Fire and Ice

Crimson Snow

Find my titles at 





Meet Maya "The Vamp" DeLeina


Maya DeLeina is an Erotic Vampire Author published with Siren and Evernight Publishing with an anticipated new series with Ellora's Cave coming soon.


Maya delves into sexual fantasies of the blood and fang fetish that has readers tingling in all the right places.




Check Out:
  
Maya’s  Website
Sexy Vampires Brought to Life on Maya’s YouTube Channel.
Maya’s books on AmazonBarnes and Noble and Bookstrand
Maya Author Fan Page
Friend Maya on Facebook
Friend Maya on Goodreads
Follow Maya on Twitter

Monday, January 26, 2015

Mermaids--what if? Something to think about on #MoltenMonday #Supernatural #EroticRomance



As a paranormal author, I enjoy exploring the ideas of "what if." There are so many things that are unexplained in the world and I'm fascinated by them all.  I'm not stating "facts" because as any good follower of these things know--there aren't any concrete facts or else it would no longer be a myth. No, rather I'm thinking aloud and invite you to open your mind and share your thoughts as you see fit.

Today I'm thinking about mermaids and mermen. What if they're real?

As with most mythology, the mermen and mermaid myths began as pagan water deities. Mermen were seen as Gods and Mermaids as goddesses of the moon who controlled the ebb and flow of the tides. The belief in these gods and goddesses transcended through the rise of Christianity and the Age of Science.

But why? For centuries, sailors wrote of seeing mermaids guiding them away from dangerous reefs and through turbulent seas.

Poseidon and Neptune are depicted as half-man half-fish, with tritons being the offspring of the powerful sea god. Both Homer and Ovid wrote of Sirens and water-nymphs.

Modern day explorers have searched far and wide after reputed sightings of mermaids, most often in the South Pacific and Mediterranean Seas. Searched for but never found...but does that disprove their existence? I don't think it does.

I'm a big fan of Josh Gates. I followed his show Destination Truth and his most recent venture, Expedition Unknown. He and his team have searched for mermaids and come away with more questions than answers. In his show and many like it, one thing is always consistent--the proof that this world is vast and that despite our technological advances, there are many unexplored and remote areas of the world where new species are being discovered as I type these words. With those 'facts', how can anyone say for certain that mermaids are a product of a fanciful imagination? Why does the legend persist?

There are islands in the South Pacific--in modern times--where their fishermen who push off from shore in the simplest of boats swear they've seen mermaids and merman. What if they remain in these remote areas because they avoid the pollution generated by the masses here along the US coast? What if they prefer the quiet of remote islands and seas where they can exist without the noise of this modern world we've created in our arrogance of what is 'best'?

Sitting here in the modern world with all the perks of internet and easy access to anything we'd like, it's easy to believe we are above the ancient beliefs, that perhaps we know more than those who came before us. But do we? In many ways, we've become more ignorant, more distanced from nature, more alienated from the spirt world. Our arrogance is our blindness.

What if? Seriously...what if? Would we destroy them with our curiosity or out of fear? Would we let them be?

What if? 

Someting to think about.
Dakota Skye
XXOO

A taste of my novel about a tribe of mermen and mermaids led by Triton himself. 

He saved her life, but now he's being hunted. 

Nico Triton has a secret. He's a merman who saved the life of a champion surfer. As the leader of the merfolk, his interference with Fate has had severe repercussions that only love will solve. 

Murder on the beach. 

Josie Wells knows how to conquer the waves, but when she witnesses a murder on her beach, the impact shatters the surfing community of Santa Cruz. The tragedy brings her up close and personal with her secret crush, the elusive billionaire, Nico Triton. 

Will their love be enough to bridge their two worlds?

Secrets become confessions and trust is tested as betrayal threatens their lives. When a merman falls in love with a surfer chic and two worlds collide, expect an Impact Zone of danger and passion.



Excerpt: 
She lifted her face to the wind and inhaled the rich sea air. The last time she'd been here, she'd been in high school with her then boyfriend Ted Reece. It had been well-after midnight and they'd had a bottle of cheap rum they passed between them before making out on the rocky ground. Walking toward the edge of the cliffs, she looked down at the waves pounding against sheer rock. The earth rumbled beneath her feet. 
Nico sat with his legs outstretched and face lifted toward the setting sun. "That day I took off with mom's car I ended up in a place similar to this. I sat there looking at the ocean until my father found me."
"What was that like?" She sat next to him and leaned back on her palms. "Was he angry?"
"You don't know my father. He becomes, shall we say, temperamental." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I tested his authority a lot, which meant I got into trouble nearly every day."
"Why do I have a feeling you're a lot like him?"
"That is a conversation for another day." He laughed quietly while his gaze roamed over her face. "I like remote places like this where no one is constantly needing my attention."
"I need your attention," she said without thinking, gaze locked on his lips.
"You're the exception. You can have my attention whenever you want it." He shifted into a kneeling position, grabbed her shoulders, and moved her around until her back faced him. Before she could ask a question, he started massaging the tense muscles of her back. Thumbs pressed firmly into the base of her neck. "Right now, I sense you need to relax."
"I'm not usually the damsel in distress." She sighed while his hands worked magic on her tense muscles. "Or the woman who picks up men in bars."
"I thought that was your idea of fun."  He moved his hands from behind her neck to her shoulders.
She closed her eyes and relaxed against him. "I say strange things around you."
"You don't like being off your game, do you?" His hands worked their way from her biceps to her forearms before going back to her shoulders.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Being an athlete, you are disciplined about routine. Dedication is your middle name." He pressed his knuckles against her spine. "You left the circuit to start a business from nothing, that takes focus." His fingers splayed across her ribcage in more of a caress than a massage. "You like being in control. Around me, you are off balance. Am I right?"
"Lucky guess," she whispered. "Most people wouldn't say I'm the nervous type. I've been called reckless and wild, but never...off balance."
"Oh, you're an obvious risk taker, but I don't think you're reckless. There's a difference." His fingers grazed the bottom of her breasts as his hands slid around her sides. "But you like calculated risks where you know what you're dealing with going in."
"Your theory is that I'm not sure I can handle you so that's why you make me nervous?
"Are you nervous or excited?"
She smiled as both his arrogance and astuteness. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that he'd brought a blanket she kept in the backseat. "I forgot I had that back there."
"You have what looks like a closet in your car. Are you secretly homeless?" He brushed her hair back from her neck before his lips caressed her ear.
She inhaled sharply at the contact. Goosebumps skittered across her skin with the touch of his kiss.
"I haven't made the best first impression on you, I'm sure." She tilted her head until her chin touched her chest, unable to deny the magic his fingers and mouth delivered to her body.
"Do you know when I first saw you?" He shifted so that his legs pressed along the outside of her hips.
She shook her head 'no' and held her breath.
"You were in Hawaii for a competition and we were at a sponsor party. You were excited and on everyone's must-meet list."
She frowned. "I don't remember meeting you."
"We didn't meet. I was called away as usual for some kind of emergency, but I definitely had a first impression of you."
"And what was that?"
"Beautiful. Genuine. Exciting. Unique." His teeth caught her earlobe before he kissed the sweet spot on her neck. "Is what I think about you that important?"
She twisted to look at him through a veil of her hair. "I think it might be, yes."
He stared at her for what felt like minutes before nodding. "I never do anything I don't want to do, Josie. I'm here with you because I choose to be."
With a slowness that drove her mad, he pushed the hair away from her face and bent within a fraction of her lips. His gaze scanned hers briefly before he kissed her.
She moved her mouth against his with a laziness meant to savor the sensation. She hoped she'd never get used to the energy that zapped between his skin and hers.
"What did you used to do here when you were a teenager?" he asked against her mouth, eyes alive with knowing.
"A little bit of this and that."
"A little of this?" His tongue slid between her parted lips—teasing—before he slid his mouth down the length of her neck.
"Mm...hm."
"And a little of that?" He moved his hands to her bare thighs beneath the dress and squeezed. "Am I close?"
"You're getting closer." She grabbed his face and ground her mouth against his. If he wanted to fool around on a rock, why the hell not?
His tongue slid against hers in a dance that made her squirm. She wanted to toss her dress off and let the wind take it away, surrender to recklessness and desire.
 He lifted her and pushed her back against the blanket. His dark head moved from her mouth to her collarbone as he squeezed her breast through the thin material. His hand moved to her panties that were wet with desire. In one yank, he ripped them from her before sliding his fingers between her legs. He pushed her dress up and kissed her bared abdomen.
Eyes open, she stared at the clouds passing overhead, cherished the hard earth beneath her back, savored the sensation of his fingers sliding inside of her, gasped as his mouth sucked her clit, and spread her legs wide as the wind sent her yellow dress billowing around her torso and slapping against the ground. 
He nipped and sucked and fucked her with his fingers while she gripped the blanket at her sides and surrendered to him manipulating her body with his mouth.
She arched her back as an orgasm quaked through her body like tremor from deep within her soul. Still he sucked at her, his fingers and tongue ravaging her. Owning her.
"Nico, my God, I can't take—" Another wave of orgasm ripped through her. She twisted, but he held her legs open while he continued his feast.
When she finally lay spent and exhausted, he climbed over her and looked her in the eye. "A little bit of this and that?"
She grinned, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled his face against hers. "Kiss me."
"What the lady wants, the lady gets." He kissed her until she moaned with primal need.
"Are you relaxed now?" he whispered against her ear.
"Definitely."
"Then let's find a restaurant off the beaten path and I'll buy you dinner." Abruptly, he stood and pulled her with him. "I'll take you on a real date tomorrow night."
"A real date? So this was just a preview?" She walked with him on trembling legs.
"I am capable of more than you realize, Josie, including romance and charm. Trust me." He retrieved her torn panties from where they fluttered against a boulder and tucked them in the back pocket of his jeans. When she laughed, he snagged her hand in his.
"I'm feeling selfish right now." She crossed her trembling legs and latched the seatbelt.
Nico grabbed her chin and kissed away her guilt. "Your surrender is more than generous."
As they drove away from the remote cliff, she sighed and closed her eyes. She'd been in charge of too much for too long and surrendering felt better than she'd imagined. When he dropped his hand on her thigh, she grinned.

             She could get used to being manhandled by Nico Triton.

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