#WriteTip - Take a Walk by @Gina_Wynn, spotlighting her @DecadentPub #Romance Her Dollmaker's Desire

/

Fellow Decadent Publishing author Gina Wynn has a brand new addition to the Beyond Fairytales series. It features an ex-dancer, an evil stepmother, and a biker with a leather jacket—what more can a romance reader ask ? In addition to snagging an excerpt from Her Dollmaker’s Desire (which has a stunning cover, by the by), I also convinced her to give me a writing tip. As Fitbit-wearer, it's one I can wholeheartedly endorse. 

Take a Walk

by Gina Wynn

If ideas stop flowing, take a walk. I have my best ideas when I’m pushing my two year old in her pushchair. Of course, this might be more due to the two year old than the walking as I don’t often walk without her. If that’s the case, you may borrow mine.

I write stories by theft. I steal time from being an active parent, or an attentive wife…but mostly from doing my housework. Unless I’m procrastinating. Then my house is a shining example worthy of Stepford, my children sparkle and are fully entertained, and my husband experiences the contentment of a full stomach and being able to find the remote control.

I usually set out with a germ of an idea. A niggle of a thought gleaned from a sound, an image, a random thought or a snippet of conversation. For example, while I sat with my daughter in the still of her bedroom the other night, I heard a strange high pitched whining outside…what if that sound signaled the end of the world? Or, my husband drove me through the centre of Birmingham, and I looked out between two tall tower blocks. What if a dragon came swooping between those right now? I have no idea if normal brains work this way. I can claim a lot of things, but normal has never been one of them. 

Her Dollmaker’s Desire

By Gina Wynn

A Beyond Fairy Tales story

Rule number 123: Once upon a time is for fairy tales, not for broken ex dancers who live at home with Daddy and a textbook evil stepmother, and who only manage to get through life by counting every single step.

Amy knows her rules inside out…who to spend time with, what to eat, what to drink and what to do - until danger shows up in a leather jacket on a shiny chrome motorbike. Suddenly, breaking the rules seems to be all she can manage no matter how hard she tries, and her rigid control starts to slip.

Peder’s violent past has shaped him into the man he is, much the way he has learned to shape dolls with the help of his grandfather. He used to have only one rule in his life, courtesy of his absent brother and their shared gang past. When Amy is sent to write an article on his grandfather and his history of doll making for a paper her father’s company owns, she captures Peder’s interest and his heart. After his brother makes an ill-timed return and issues an instruction that threatens his future with Amy, Peder becomes trapped in a fresh web of lies and family ties. He must decide if he should start breaking the rules he didn’t know he lived by to take a chance on a future with Amy while knowing he could still lose her if she finds out.

Is Amy brave enough to put her faith in Peder, and can he overcome his past and convince Amy to follow their destiny, rather than her rules?

Amazon | ARe | B&N | iTunes | Kobo

Excerpt

Lost in her thoughts of the past, Amy reached to grasp the ballet dancer’s tiny form.

“I’ve brought the cake, if you want to come and sit with us for your cup of tea?” A new male voice, deep and confident, startled her.

She jumped and straightened, coming nose to nose with the unhinged grin and vacant leer of a circus clown.

A gasp tore from her lips. “Oh, my God.” She backed into something warm and solid,

and shrieked before spinning round.

“Sorry. Sorry…it’s just me.” The man’s eyes, rich with the colours of wild woodland moss, held an unexpected glint of danger. She shivered as an electric jolt shot straight through her when she met that green gaze. It glimmered with mischief and laughter, and he didn’t look quite as sorry as he should have.

Reflex led to her almost leaning into his strong grip as he reached out to steady her. Almost. She tugged her arm away and held out her hand.

“Pleased to meet you.” Superficial manners and years of rules kicked in, and she averted her gaze from the man who hadn’t introduced himself, and especially from his dangerous eyes. Her heart continued to race over her close encounter with the clown…yet the warmth in her arm lingered where the man had wrapped his strong fingers around her.

“Quite,” came his polite reply, and the obvious disinterest in his tone echoed through her, but what had she expected? Rule Number 15: Know your place, always.

She sneaked a quick look at him, and his very attractive lips upturned in an amused smile. One she almost returned, while wishing he’d speak more words once she could hear him over the rushing of blood in her ears.

His voice melted her, creating sparks and exploring long-forgotten depths of attraction. It made promises for ways they should spend time together he couldn’t even be aware of, and she wanted him to talk forever. She took an uncertain step away. Space seemed necessary…safe.

About Gina Wynn

Gina has fly-away hair that has always done its own thing, doesn’t feel as old as she looks, owns three children (aged 2, 5 and 7) who can’t be tamed, and writes in spare – stolen – time. ‘Her Dollmaker’s Desire’, published by Decadent Publishing, is her debut book, but she is brimming with further ideas and is willing to invest money in the first person who is able to add extra hours to a day.

She has a second book, ‘Her Undercover Christmas’ contracted with Decadent Publishing, and ‘What You Wish For’ contracted with Three Worlds Press and due for release September 2015.

Her love of the written word extends to owning a To Be Read pile that is probably longer than the rest of her natural life (more investment available for anyone who perfects anti-aging, then) and editing for a small press, as well as co-hosting a free promotion website for writers and their books at http://alwayswrite.club.

Website | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter @Gina_Wynn

#NewRelease - Her Real-Life Hero by @VickiBallante, a @DecadentPub #BeyondFairyTales #PNR

/

Today's post is a shout out for the lovely Vicki Ballante. She's got a new release from Decadent Publishing's Beyond Fairytales line, and it's a paranormal romance to boot! Check out the smocking hot cover, and the even hotter extended excerpt. 

Her Real-Life Hero

A Beyond Fairytales adaptation of “The Frog King” and “Iron Henry”

by Vicki Ballante

Romance Writer in Training…

Joanie wants to get her romances published but can't seem to get things right with her writing. She buys an antique bureau which the shopkeeper says has magic working through it. While using her new bureau, she begins to talk to the hero in her book, asking his advice on writing, all the while thinking it's her own imagination. She promises he can live in her home, eat at her table and sleep in her bed, if he helps her with her writing. She doesn't think he will actually knock on her door and insist she keep her promise.

He’s made a wish…

Theo has also bought a magic chest of drawers that brings him into Joanie's life. He wants to settle down with one woman, tired of shallow relationships, and Joanie seems like the perfect candidate if it weren’t for her insistence on getting rid of him.

Against her will…

The magic keeps on forcing them to live together and Joanie’s not happy. This is her first year alone and she’s been craving time to herself after looking after her younger siblings and an ailing aunt. Theo’s presence in her home, although unwanted, stirs up needs she’s suppressed for years. When they start to discover things about the magic and why it’s bringing them together, will Joanie recognize another type of magic at work? Will she succumb to the charm of Theo or will her need for breathing space pull them apart?

Also available at: B&N | Kobo | ARe | Smashwords

Excerpt (Mature Audiences Only!!)

According to her clock radio, Joanie lay on her bed close to midnight, the light out and her mind spinning with thoughts of her book. Talking to her character had helped. She understood deeper point of view and had been able to make Theo and Kaley come alive. The snake scene had flown by so fast that when she glanced at the clock, which read eleven, her word count for the day stood at…oh, right, she couldn’t work that out if written on paper. Not a hassle. She’d filled five sheets with her curvy writing and thrown away tons of blotting paper.

Tomorrow, she would find a way to put her computer on the bureau because writing by hand took too much of her precious time. She only had the evenings to create. Plus she would have liked to know how many words she’d written for the day.

Not that word count was everything. Quality mattered more—she had a feeling that had upped a significant amount.

The moment she started to drift into sleep, the doorbell chimed. She jerked upright, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Anyone visiting at such a late hour must have an emergency.

She slipped her dressing gown on and rushed to the front door. Peering through the peephole confirmed someone there. Oh dear, she’d forgotten to switch on the outside light and could only make out a shape.

“Who’s there?” she shouted through the door, too lazy to find the switch a few steps away and anxious to know who it was.

“Theo. Let me in.”

Theo? The only Theo she knew was her hero. Maybe I heard wrong. “What did you say?”

“It’s Theo. You promised.”

How…? She gripped her head. Maybe she’d entered dreamland already…but his voice sounded so real. She pinched her palm. “Ouch.”

“You okay?”

“No, not at all.”

“Let me in. It’s cool out here.”

“Used to the blazing sun on the desert island?” Whoa! She’d talked to her character again, but this time, he had come into her world. What the diddly-do is going on?

He rang the doorbell again, and she backed away a few steps.

“How can I trust you?”

“You know me well by now, don’t you?”

Her hero, Theo, tended to be closed emotionally but deep inside, genuine as gold. He would lay down his life for the woman he loved, and like a perfect gentleman, didn’t demand his own way. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. The persistent man outside her door acted very different from her creation.

“Why should I let you in?”

“Because a promise is a promise.”

Tingles ran along her spine. Those had been her mother’s words to her, growing up. A promise is a promise, Joanie. No matter what, you must always keep to your word even if it hurts. If you don’t, your life will become a mess and you will start to lose control of everything.

Her parent’s advice had been her motto for the last ten years, and she’d kept to it. She’d always kept her word to her younger sisters, aunt, and friends.

“What are you talking about?” She sort of remembered bargaining with Theo to help her with her writing. What had she sworn to do for him? Surely, he hadn’t taken to heart whatever she’d said. She stared at the door. Um…Theo isn’t real. So, who am I talking to?

“Open up, please. Then I can explain.”

“Wait a minute.” She ran to her bedroom to fetch her cell phone to dial Leonora.

“What’s wrong?” Her friend’s voice sounded sleepy yet a little panicked.

“I’m letting a man into my house. His name is Theo Bartok. I do trust him. But I thought I’d tell you in case something happens, so at least you can let the police know.”

“Who is he? Do you know him?”

“Very well.” She rubbed her forehead. “Too well in fact.”

“You never told me about him.” She sounded wide awake.

“It’s not what you think. He wants to talk to me about something.”

“At two-thirty in the morning?”

“Never mind, Leonora. I’ll survive. I thought I should inform you.”

“Now, how the heck can I sleep?” she moaned. “Let me know when he leaves.”

“Thanks. It shouldn’t be long.”

After ending the call, she went to open the door, still hoping the intrusion must be a mixed-up dream from too much writing.

Theo strode in straight away, heading for her living room as though he knew the place. He lay down, propping his head onto the arm of the sofa, thick muscles tightening the sleeves of his shirt. “Phew, I’m exhausted.”

“Make yourself at home.” Sarcasm streamed from her mouth. “While you’re at it, can I get you coffee, a muffin, and a blanket?”

“Coffee and the muffin sound great. The blanket isn’t necessary yet.”

She rolled her eyes. Should she leave him alone to roam her house while she made the coffee?

He appeared just as she’d imagined—tall, sculpted muscles, dark-blond hair in straight bangs, and bronzed skin. A whiff of island and animal skin wafted to her. He couldn’t smell of that, could he? An image of the Tarzan skin he’d worn in her imagination flashed at her, as well as the memory of her brief, teasing touch. Did that happen for real?

At least he wasn’t still wearing a pouch around his hips, else she would be tempted to let him stay. Her breath came in choppy pants. A foreign sensation surged through her. No guy was so yummy—not even Richard, the resident heartthrob at work. She was all ready for sex—and he made her furious. The two didn’t mix. They shouldn’t.

About Vicki Ballante

Vicki writes erotic and fantasy romance. She loves taking her characters into an alternate world where strange and sexy things happen. She lives with her patient husband and three noisy kids in South Africa. In between being a busy stay-at-home mom who hates housework and spends half her life cooking everything from scratch, she runs several blogs, writes under another name, and buries herself in the delightful world of her characters.

Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Tsu | Newsletter | GoodReads | Amazon | Authorgraph

New Release - Submissive on Display, an Interracial BDSM Romance

/

It’s been an age since I’ve had a new release. Like my heroine Naomi Price, I’d allowed life to get in the way of what I love, resulting in a significant production gap since Fireworks at Midnight came out last year. Perhaps for that reason, I’ve allowed my naughty side to run amuck in Submissive On Display.

Part of Decadent Publishing’s 1-Night Stand Series, my interracial BDSM romance is set in Las Vegas at the renowned Carnivore Club, a multi-author world first penned by Kate Richards. Despite my best efforts to be dark and kinky, I only succeeded at the latter. A light-hearted play on the reluctant lovers trope, my novella is a romantic comedy, replete with a Dom in distress, a reluctant submissive on a white horse, and an adorable German shepherd determined to unite the two.

To celebrate my return to BDSM romance, I’m giving away a $15 gift card. To enter, leave a comment here and drop your details in the Rafflecopter widget at the bottom of this post. 

Buy Links

Amazon | Amazon UK | AllRomance 
Decadent | iTunes | Kobo | Smashwords  | GoodReads

Submissive on Display

by Tara Quan

After a disastrous engagement and ensuing public breakup knocks him off this year’s list of Boston’s most eligible bachelors, Luka Petrovich’s confidence in women is at an all-time low. With a psycho ex-fiancé stalking him at every BDSM club, he embraces a prolonged hiatus from his social life. The last thing he expects is to fall into bed with his dog’s sexy sitter. Craving more after the first taste, he can’t wait to handcuff her to his bed. There’s one problem—she’s not a submissive.

Veterinary student Naomi Price is too busy juggling part-time jobs and a full course- load to have a relationship. Though she’s crushed on her client’s gorgeous owner for close to a year, their accidental night together couldn’t have come at a worse moment. With his sexual preferences fodder for countless tabloid blogs, she knows exactly how to keep this Dominant at an arm’s length. So she tells the biggest lie of her life, turns in her notice, and escapes on a vacation to Las Vegas.

At the Carnivore Club, two exhibitionists meet for a one-night stand, unaware their compatibility stretches far beyond a simple limit list. When their identities are revealed, a reluctant sub must face public spanking for her deceit, and accept several delectable wrinkles in her best-laid plans.

Excerpt (for mature audiences only...Spanking is involved)

When his breath grazed her skin, she jerked her chin to the side and struggled against his hold. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go through with this date. I came to tell you in person.”

He tightened his grip on her braid and pitched his voice low enough to mask his identity. “Why not?”

Her tongue darted to moisten the corner of her mouth. The small motion sent an electric jolt to his balls.

He shifted to prevent his zipper from making a permanent indentation on his penis. “You’re turned on. Why stop?”

“I…I’m invol— I’ve got this weird situation going on with someone else.” Her voice shook. “Until I’ve sorted things out, I can’t play with anyone.”

The sickening rock at the pit of his stomach disappeared, leaving behind smug satisfaction. “What’s the lucky guy’s name.” He blew a hot breath on her darkening cheek.

She flinched. “None of your business.”

“True, but I call the shots. Who would you rather scene with tonight, Naomi?”

Her brows snapped together. “Luka?”

She lifted her arms. Before she could touch the black silk, he captured her wrists with one hand. Damn, he’d forgotten to remain incognito. Perhaps he could salvage the situation. “Who?”

“I recognize your voice,” she hissed. “Let me go right this instant and take the damn blindfold off.”

Dragging her up, he toppled her onto his lap. “Is that anyway to talk to your Dom?” Banding his arms around her torso, he plastered her back against his.

“The date’s finished. I’m leaving.” When she attempted to wiggle free, her ass churned over his boner. She froze. His growing erection must have alerted her to the dangerous side effect of her resistance.

“Not until I hear your safe word.” Turning her in his arms, he positioned her facedown on his thighs. “The cat’s out of the bag, sub. Congratulations, you’ve won the trifecta. I’m horny, curious, and pissed off. We’re starting this scene with some incentivized interrogation.”

“Like hell.” Despite her spitting protest, her spine arched. Her butt lifted high enough her skirt bunched around her waist, revealing utilitarian black panties. She hadn’t chosen underwear with sex on the agenda.

Good.

He yanked the cotton garment down to circle her knees. Trembling, she pounded her little fists on his calves. At the same time, her ass muscles tightened as if in anticipation of a blow. Talk about conflicting emotions.

He squeezed her butt, raking his blunt nails along her silky flesh to amp up the anticipation.

She hit him harder. “Stop it.”

“But you don’t want me to.” He slid his fingers between her shaved labia. “And you’re wet.”

“Luka. No.”

“The tone might work on Bear, but I am not a dog.” He slammed his palm onto her right thigh. “I don’t appreciate you keeping me on a leash for months.” His next spank landed on her other leg, the impact harder and louder because she’d swung it up. “You told me lie after lie.” He punished her subsequent kick with equal gusto. “And then you showed up at a BDSM club for a one-night stand with someone else.”

His following wallops landed on her butt, the impact covering her mahogany skin with a rusty tinge.

“Oww! I wasn’t going through with it.” She screeched. “I’d already decided to bail before you showed up.”

“Uh-huh.” He pinched her left butt cheek and twisted, provoking a string of curses. “Because you have feelings for me. Why would you tell a random guy what you should have admitted to my face?”

Grunting, she banged the heel of her fist on his toe. Thank God for thick leather. “I did admit it to you, asshole.”

He smacked her harder. “Careful, pet. You’re giving me all sorts of ideas on appropriate disciplinary measures.”