Six Sentence Sunday: Christmas Naughties

So I noticed this cool thing called Six Sentence Sunday. It's basically that an author picks any 6 sentences from a work from any genre, whether WIP or published and posts them on their blog on Sunday before 9 AM EST. There are no restrictions on genre, heat level or publisher.

I thought it was a wonderful way of giving a sneak peak at my erotic romance novel, Christmas Naughties. I hope you like it. Here goes:

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     He couldn’t help noticing the way her fingers caressed her wineglass and the subtle trembling of her hands as she raised the crystal edge of the glass to her lips. The tender spot at the base of her neck betrayed the heightened pace of her heartbeat. How the hell was sh­e holding it together when her entire body language screamed—

     “Would you care for a refill?” the waitress asked, drawing Peter’s attention from Hanie’s salacious look to his nearly empty wineglass.

     What he’d really care for was a private room where he could peel that black dress off Hanie’s body and sip his wine from the grooves of her feminine curves. He forced the image out of his mind, determined to stay true to his promise of being a perfect gentleman—for now, anyway. 

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I'd love to know what you think of this snippet, so don't forget to leave a comment. To check out more snippets, go to the official site for Six Sentence Sunday. Have a great week.

Spotlight on Multicultural Romance Author, Empi Baryeh

Today, it is my pleasure to welcome offer my blog up to debut author, Empi Baryeh, to do as she pleases :-) That's because Empi's celebrating her upcoming release, Most Eligible Bachelor, through Evernight Publishing.

 

Over to you, Empi,

Hi Ea. Thanks for offering up your blog. I promise to be very nice :-). Hi everyone and thank you for stopping by to share in my excitement as I eagerly await the release of Most Eligible Bachelor, a contemporary romance set in Accra, Ghana.

I’m really excited about the release of this novel after getting countless rejections—called Rs in the by the literati. Most Eligible Bachelor is about a guy and a girl who meet on Valentine’s Day and fall in love. Since Valentine’s Day is all about love, it seemed like a great idea to write a story that starts on that day.

I began writing at around thirteen years of age after stumbling upon a Young Adult story her older sister had started and abandoned. The story fascinated me so much that, when I discovered it was unfinished, I knew the task of completing it rested firmly on my shoulders. Amazingly, once I decided to continue the story, the ideas and the words began to pour into her mind. I’ve been writing ever since. However, it wasn’t until another thirteen years later that the romantic in me geared me toward romance. While I also write mainstream stories, my current focus is on heart-warming romance set in Africa with African heroes and heroines. I write the kind of story I like to read – sweet and tender, but with enough passion to enthral readers who want a little sizzle with their romance. (Yes, I do have sex scenes in my stories, but I like to think they are tasteful - that means I won’t mind my fun aunt reading it. LOL). I live in Accra, Ghana, which provides the exotic setting for most of my novels.

If you hop over to my blog (http://empibaryeh.wordpress.com) on 3^rd February (my book release day), you can find out how Most Eligible Bachelor came into being, and some challenges I’ve faced trying to break into the publishing world with this story!

I’m giving away a free copy of my book to one lucky commenter on this blog post. That’s right – leave a comment or question and you could win a free copy of my book. Winners will be announced on my blog on 19^th February.

Now, without further ado, here’s a sneak peek at Most Eligible Bachelor.

  

Blurb

Magazine columnist Chantelle Sah doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day—not since her fiancé’s betrayal three years ago—and after botching her first assignment as a feature writer, she’s more than willing to put in a hard day’s work this Valentine’s Day; even if it means going on a date with gorgeous construction Tycoon, Lord McKenzie, and opening herself to an onslaught of all things love.

When Lord—his given name, not a title—sets his sights on Chantelle, it isn’t just work he has on his mind. But even he couldn’t have predicted the magnetic attraction between them when they meet, nor the evening ending with more than an interview. Now he has to convince Chantelle that their one-night stand wasn’t a mistake. Can he win her love without revealing a secret from their night of passion, which could prove fatal for both their hearts?

Excerpt – The First Kiss

He seemed amused by her lack of a response as he took her hand and led her back to the dance floor. The music had turned slow.

She hesitated. Slow music meant being in his arms, their bodies touching. She shouldn’t do this. Yet for some ridiculous reason, she wanted – needed, even – the closeness, to feel like a woman again. Just for a moment. Even if she was certifiably insane for wanting all this in the arms of Lord McKenzie.

He pulled her gently, bringing her body flush against his. A tremor rushed through her. His warm breath on her face sent tiny tingles running over her skin. Heat radiated to her from each part of his body touching hers, his powerful thighs, lean hips and firm abdomen, his hand, pressed firmly on the small of her back.

When was the last time she’d been this close to a man? Her breath quickened as raw need surged through her. Far too long. Not since Martin.

Tears stung her eyes as the familiar loneliness accompanying Valentine’s Day closed in. Old love songs always got to her. She turned away from his watchful gaze, focusing on other couples huddled close together on the dance floor. Yearning pierced her heart. She gave herself a mental shake. She couldn’t entertain such thoughts. Once she did, there would be no salvation.

As if sensing her distress, Lord pulled her closer, his hold tightening around her. Every thought flittered out of her mind as soon as their gazes locked, and she began to drown in the deep pools of his dark eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Chantelle.”

Was it stupid that she liked the way her name sounded on his tongue? She opened her mouth to say something – about how Valentine’s Day had been commercialized to the point of triviality, an occasion for errant lovers to feel better about neglecting their significant others, a day to buy enough credit for another year, one day to make the unloved feel even less loved – anything to hide how hard it was to hear those words, but nothing came out.

His face hovered just inches away. Her heart stutter-stepped; her breath snagged. Without explanation, she wanted to know the taste of his lips. She wanted to erase it all from her mind, her pain, his reputation. She wanted to simply believe he really was just the most eligible bachelor in town, and he had her in his arms.

He smiled, really smiled, not the movie star grins he’d been flashing earlier. His gaze emitted pure heat wrapped around a hint of sadness. What in the world could make a man with his looks and popularity melancholic? Surely Lord McKenzie didn’t have the same kinds of problems as mere mortals.

His fingers feathered her cheek, sending another wave of tremors through her. When his hand reached her chin, he lifted her face. Her mind barely registered what was happening before the space between them vanished. His searing kiss was nothing she could have imagined. It scorched her, inside and out. A soft moan escaped her throat before she could stop it. She melted into him, curling her fingers around his nape.

When he pulled away, her breath came in fast, shallow bursts. In stunned reflex, her fingers came to her lips, which felt swollen, having not been used for this purpose in a while. Weak-kneed and aroused, she sensed she only remained standing because of his strong arms around her.

One of the couples dancing bumped into them, jerking her back to reality.

Shoot. This evening would be more difficult than she could have guessed. How was she supposed to conduct a professional interview when she’d just kissed the interviewee, and now her mind insisted on dancing around words like ravished?

***

I hope you enjoyed that excerpt and you’ve marked you calendar to get your very own copy from Friday at:

• Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/
• Amazon: http://www.amazon.com
• All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/

Where else to find me online:

My blog | My website | Facebook | Twitter: @empibaryeh

 

Thanks again for stopping by and sharing this exciting moment with me. Have a wonderful week!

Empi

Bye Bye 2011, Hello 2012

The year is almost at an end, and sadly I didn't complete Christmas Naughties in time for publication this year. Not to worry, I'm more than half way through, so I'm hoping 2012 is going to the year for me.

I recently discovered a call from Evernight Publishing for naughty fairy tales. Now that's right up my alley (insert saucy grin). Who's about to get naughty? Sleeping Beauty...Cinderella...Little Red Riding Hood...The Little Mermaid...Snow White...

So many possibilities (muahahahahahahaha - ok, maybe an evil laugh is taking it too far). Heading back to my little grotto to think up something deliciously naughty.

For now, Happy Holidays and to each one of us having one of our naughty dreams come true ;-)

NaNoWriMo is here again!

This is going to be a short post. It's first November, and for those of us in the writing world, it's NaNoWriMo! (National Novel Writing Month). The aim of NaNoWriMo is to write a novel in a month. The average wordcount is pegged at 50K, meaning one must aim for 1667 words a day in order to complete the novel at the end of the month. My novel is shorter and already half done, but at the rate at which I've been going, I need some focus, hence NaNo-ing this year.

Good luck to all writers planning to challenge themselves this month.

Writer's Block: Away With You

I've been bemoaning my plight or writer's block or something close to it for a few weeks now. It wasn't that I couldn't write at all or that I found myself staring at the blank page. Oh no. I was writing, alright--a whole lot of first paragraphs. There've been days too when I sat down for an hour or more and came up with three measly lines.

How did I break the curse of the writer's block.

It happened over the weekend, while I stared at a few of those blasted first paragraphs. It hit me. I mixed and matched, nipped and tucked and came up with a paragraph that didn't feel like I'd dug myself into a hole. Ok, so it might have had something to do with Kimberly Raye's Once Upon a Bite (what's not to love about a sexy were/vamp hybrid falling for a human?). Whatever the case, chapter 6 is finally complete. Woohoo! Four - maybe five - more to go  (groans).

What are your writer's block/victory stories and how have you overcome them. If you're still in your writers' block, get yourself a racy book and let your imagination run.

Frisky Friday: A Pizza Head

(Here's a piece of flash fiction I developed for a contest. The rule was to write a scene in which the protagonist wakes up in a chair, hands and feet bound.)

I rang the bell on 21 Mango Close. It was my last delivery for the night: a spicy four-ways pizza, fully loaded—thick crust and extra topping. Though the short dirt road branching off a bigger but quiet street was unlit, light glowed from every window in the house I could make out.

A woman opened the door. She was tall and willowy, wearing a short skirt and a sexy tank top. Silhouetted against the light inside, I couldn’t see her face. She looked marginally familiar, but didn’t all sexy women look alike? Or maybe it was the Lara Croft getup.

Taking the pizza from me, she dipped two fingers between her breasts and pulled out some bills. She counted it. Not enough.

“Why don’t you come in, sugar?” She had a sexy voice to go with the body.

Stepping into the light, her face finally became visible. She had to be the most beautiful woman I’d laid eyes on. As a part-time pizza delivery guy, I came into contact with a good variety of characters, but never had my work brought me in close confines with a woman who was sexiness personified.

Standing near the door, waiting for my money, I noticed a painting hanging on the wall and leaned closer to study it. Hearing footsteps, I turned around just in time to notice Lara Croft swinging a blunt weapon at me. Everything went black.

***

I was suddenly awake—blindfolded, but awake. Why was I sitting? I couldn’t move. My hands and feet were tied—I jerked my arms—very firmly. The last thing I remembered was … the painting and a thud. I felt a dull pain on the side of my head where the weapon must have hit, as if the memory had brought it on.

Footsteps.

The sound created an image in my mind of stilettos, cat-walking toward me.

“Ms. Ville,” I pleaded. It was the name she’d given with her order. “What are you planning to do with me?”

“You’ve been a very bad boy,” came the sultry voice of Ms. Ville, “and you need to be punished.”

I gulped. They always said beautiful women were bad girls, but since a woman worth anything was way out of my league, I had to take their word for it. After all, I was just a nobody, too far removed from her kind and not smart enough to join the population of brainiacs who were changing the world one invention after another. I was average to the letter, right down to working part-time at Pizza Inn. Could I hope ‘bad’ meant ‘good’?

“Ms. Ville—”

She was now close enough that I could breathe in her stimulating floral smell.

“Call me Amanda,” she whispered in my ear.

My imagination went wild. Was she wielding a knife? Did she plan on relieving me of my equipment? Something supple pressed against my collarbone. My throat dried up. Was she naked?

I jerked in surprise when she started rubbing me through my jeans. Holy—I was rigid within seconds. I had no experience in holding back.

“Aman—”

“Shh.” She brushed her lips against mine.

Leaving me panting from anticipating a kiss that never came, she unzipped me and released my member. She made a sound of approval, perhaps at the size of the equipment—not that it mattered, since I never got to use it as often as I’d have liked—or my state of arousal.

“That’s a good boy.”

As she rubbed me, I couldn’t help but release a moan of pleasure. If she was planning on killing me after this, I’d be dying happy. Intense pleasure shot through me when her mouth surrounded my throbbing manhood. Her tongue circled the tip, sending me knocking on the gates of paradise.

I wanted to touch her, feel her. Yanking at the ropes securing my hands and legs, I swore in frustration. My actions only seemed to egg her on. She sucked me like I was candy and it was Christmas. Mercy!

Her name erupted from my mouth in waves of pleasure as my body shuddered in rapture.

I sat in silence, wondering ‘what now?’ The only audible sound came from me as I struggled to control my breath. Her footsteps retreated, returning after a couple of minutes. I wanted to ask what the hell had happened here, but my words wouldn’t come out.

She chuckled. She still sounded sexy. I began to psych myself for the worst. Dying at the hands of a beautiful woman was probably the best thing that could happen to me.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “you’ll have your turn.”

The blindfold came off. She held up a slice of four-ways. “Pizza?

Response to Christmas Naughties

I've been discovering that erotic romance is very much in demand. I shared some chapters of Christmas Naughties with a closed group of West African Romance Writers and the reviews and comments have been great. I also got some good feedback. I hope to complete the book by end of September and start the great big journey of revision and submission.

Wish me luck!