Sunday, 22 November 2015

Serving The Serpent - Daisy Banks

A warm welcome to Daisy Banks who has brought with her today a wonderful snippet of her latest book, due for release tomorrow and up right now on pre-release at 

Thank you for offering to host a taster of my newest story Serving the Serpent published by Liquid Silver Books on 23rd November 2015. 


In Wales, Ceridwyn takes up her inherited duty to care for the dragons in the mountains. Awed by them and the huge book about them, she is determined to prove her worth.

Far away in Norway, Leif has growing concerns for his sick dragon. He discovers only one cure will stop his dragon’s suffering. The mighty Herensuge must journey to find his bonded mate.

When they meet, Ceri and Leif make combined efforts to aid the dragons and discover an astonishing surprise. The great lore book each of them protects tells they have a responsibility to the future. At this rare and magical time, not only the dragon pairing must occur.

Join Ceri and Leif as they work to keep the sworn silence and keep the dragons safe. Friendship is growing between them, but will it be enough? Can love blossom between two chosen to serve the serpent?

From Chapter 1

The rising sun, whose brilliant arc matched her march up the hill, greeted her, warmth on her face and the last of the moon dissolved away into the brightness of a blue sky. What an auspicious day. The next part of her journey, she picked her way delicate as a mountain goat farther up the hillside until the shadowed opening to the caves appeared.
Shrubs guarded this entranceway, each one of them placed by Mam or Gran, and one or two were old enough to have been planted by Great-Gran, a devotee of the holly. Gran chose the delicate and nectar-laden buddleia, some of which bloomed now, its tiny purple flowers in long, draped, slender cones. Mam had planted low-growing gorse. Each spring it erupted with magnificent yellow blooms. Ceri thought again on her decision. When the time came to add her own signature here, she’d plant elder, for she loved its sweet frothy blossoms and its ripe fruits that fed birds so well.
She said a swift, silent prayer and ducked into the cave mouth. Here, she undid the belt at her hips so her robes hung smooth as they should, and she slid off her Wellington boots. From this entrance, she’d tread barefoot over the chilly surface of the compacted pale clay and raw quartz pebbles of the path. Along and down, she searched with her fingers over the cold and damp rock wall, feeling her way down. She descended deeper into the gloom and passed the low-hanging lump of granite Mam always called Lizzie’s Pap. The darkness now complete, her stomach rolling and her breathing rapid, she heard the echo of Mam’s instructions in her mind as she stepped for the first time onto the gravel-edged shore where the dark waters of the Jet Llyn joined her world to that of her new charges. She counted four paces forward. Blind for now, she stretched out her right arm and felt about in the darkness until she found the thick branch of wood holding the torch she needed to light.
Tiny pebbles stuck under her toes. The nip in the air sent a shiver over her as she set her willow wand down, and with her fingers a bit shaky, she struck the match to light the moss wound around the top of the pole wedged into the gravel. The torch flared. The dry stalks, which must be replaced each visit here, took easily and burned up bright. She breathed out in a rush of relief. So far, everything was as it should be. A fresh rash of trembles raised gooseflesh all down her arms and not because of the chill in the cavern.
Ceri picked up her wand and lifted the lit torch. She carried the light in front of her in her left hand until she reached the scrap of gritty beach with its short rock causeway that projected forward like a finger reaching out toward the middle of the deep water. Here, she held the torch shoulder high so the light glittered and reflected as in a mirror off the depths of the Jet Llyn. In her other hand, she held the quartz-crystal-tipped rod, and pointing it, she positioned the clear stone on her wand so it hovered over the still dark surface.
She swallowed, gave a little quiver, forced down her apprehension, and sucked in a breath.
Beneath the quartz point of her rod, illuminated by the bright torchlight, a single fat bubble rose. The water rippled. Stronger circular movements followed until small waves lapped at the shore inches from where she curled her toes so they gripped into the stones. An itch tickled in her palm, but she kept the rod steady.
Just as Mam said, they were coming for her.

The dragons were coming.

Buy Links

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Find Daisy Banks

Twitter @DaisyBanks16

Daisy Banks is the author of:

Serving the Serpent out on November 23rd
Christmas Carols
Marked for Magic
To Eternity
A Perfect Match
Valentine Wishes
A Gentleman’s Folly
Your Heart My Soul
Fiona’s Wish
A Matter of Some Scandal
Daisy Banks writes a regular monthly story in the Sexy to Go compilations.

Saturday, 21 November 2015

Intimate Betrayal Psychic Ménage: Book 4 By Houston Havens

It’s awesome to be here with you on your blog today. Thank you for having me. I hope to entertain and intrigue your viewers with my Psychic Ménage Series.

Series Genre: Sci-Fi Erotic Romance, Ménage (MFMM/MFM), PNR, Fantasy, Futuristic, Suspense, Dystopian, Erotic, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Mystery

Themes with a light touch: Voyeurism, Spanking, BDSM, Anal, Psychic, Fae

Keywords: Scifi, Dystopian, Romance, Erotic-Romance, Ménage, Futuristic, Paranormal, Psychic, Fantasy, Fae, Post-Apocalyptic, bbw, New World Order, Governments, Psychic-Ménage-Series, Houston-Havens, Books, Bestseller, Sex, Series, Erotic, Mystery, Shifters, Magic, Ghost, Remote-viewers, Mind-travelers, Suspense, Cataclysm.

Tagline: He lives for a glimpse of her and will die for her love, but betrayal plays a dark hand.


Kindise Wyatt escapes her Star Rider captor and returns to Earth. With the help of a sexy Old World Mole and his mysterious friend, she's determined to uncover the whereabouts of her lover. Instead, she finds nothing but betrayal and her captor in pursuit.

On the lam after betraying his evil ruler, ex-Dirt Dweller and drifter Jaden Valenti confirms his name is on a hit list. Finding what he believes will be safety amongst the Airbornes, he recreates himself and hides his past until trouble walks back into his life in
the name of Kindise Wyatt, the woman he was ordered to assassinate and didn't.

Due to the obsessions of a Fae woman Sori gave up his hardearned royal title and left his homeland of Elfame. Love is the furthest thing from his mind until he is sent in Jaden's place to pick-up some cargo...human cargo in the form Kindise Wyatt. He feels the Fae magnetism of his soulmate in her. Problem is; she's in love with someone else.

Will Jaden fulfill his orders to kill Kindise and get his name removed from the list, or will his secret be exposed and betray the friendship he has with Sori? Does Sori help Kindise find her lover, or will a love between them have a chance to flourish before a fatal
attraction and a determined captor rip their love asunder? Will Kindise find true love or will betrayals at every turn crush the fight out of her? Can she find her inner strengths to keep fighting and lead The Freedom Fighters to defeat the Dirt Dweller elites, once and for all?

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Long Bio
Houston Havens retired from a successful modeling career and an adventurous jet-set lifestyle to set the world on fire with her erotic romance books. A tenacious Irish lass, she strives to entertain with seductive stories created from her decadent imagination and traces of a provocative lifestyle she may or may not admit to.

Her interest in the paranormal, fascination with quantum science, passion with myths, and the lure of her mysterious Celtic Irish-Druid bloodlines are combined with generally unknown truths, strange facts, and questionable fiction. Her novels reflect a mix of the past, present, and future, with sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, western romance, and always love everlasting. An author of six romances, a seven book erotic romance series, and numerous articles in literary magazines, she has two award winning blogs. Stop by for a visit and leave a comment at



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Tuesday, 17 November 2015

The Passage of Time

As time races on, I don't feel any older, but for the fact that when I look at my children, and my animals, they seem to be maturing far faster than I'd like, which means that I too am ageing. (We'll not speak of my maturity as I'm quite sure there's still a distinct lack of it.)

I'd only just had Beau for my birthday when I wrote For Heaven's Cakes and gave my hero in that story the same name as my new pup - and look at the boy now. How he's grown.

Beau in reality is not so far removed from Beau in my imagination. I used a number of features, including the big paws, the soft brown eyes and the wet smell of dog in For Heaven's Cakes. Yes, he's a shapeshifter, but not a dog, a wolf.


What he doesn’t anticipate is meeting the local pharmacist’s daughter - in his wolf form. By day, he renovates the pharmacy, and tries to cajole the lush assistant into having dinner with him. By night he watches Catherine bake her fantastic creations and blossom through her art.

Sleeping on her bed each night in his wolf form isn’t exactly ideal, but how does he tell her the wolf she’s come to love, is the man she lusts over?


Mrs. Timmins turned to see what had caught Catherine’s attention. Her pointed chin turned upward to meet the dip of her nose, which nearly fell into her wizened old mouth as it opened and closed.
He seemed to have the same effect on all women, no matter what age. He was probably used to it.

“Well now, this is precisely what I mean, Catherine.” Mrs. Timmins smacked her lips together. 

“Hello, young man. Don’t I know you?”

“Yes ma’am. Good to see you looking so well Mrs. Timmins. You don’t look a day older than when I last saw you.”

The harsh cackle took Catherine by surprise, but Beau smiled at the old lady as he leaned his elbow on the counter. She tried not to stare as his T-shirt pulled tight across his chest, but a small whimper threatened to escape.

Mrs. Timmins wiped her dry old lips with the back of her hand. “I remember you. You’re the middle Devlin boy. The one who left to make his fortune.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“Good. I never did believe all those rumors about you being trash.”

Catherine almost choked, but Mrs. Timmins hooted with laughter and patted Beau’s arm, pausing a moment to give it a sly stroke.

With a regretful sigh, she peered near-sighted into his face. “Are you married?”

“No ma’am, are you proposing?”

The hawking laughter drew Catherine’s gaze away from the flexed muscles of Beau’s arm to the old lady who seemed to have difficulty breathing. Another side effect of the hunk’s presence. He had the ability to stop a woman’s breath.


“No ma’am.”



It wasn’t deliberate, but Catherine simply couldn’t stop uttering. “Definitely not!”

Heat washed over her as they both stared at her. Beau’s slow smile made her want to hide under the counter. She’d never had the ability to stop words blurting from her mouth before her brain had the foresight to stop them.

She tried a casual shrug, but from the deep laughter lines slashing into his cheeks, her awkward jerk had been just that.

“There you go. I just told Catherine how she needed a man to give her a real good…”

“Mrs. Timmins!”


Where to Buy the Book 

Thursday, 12 November 2015



Thanks so much to Diane for allowing me to visit today. I’m thrilled to be here as I continue my blog tour for Night Lover, my recent release.

Night Lover is a book that is dear to my heart for many reasons, but the main one is its theme of enduring love. We all dream of a love that lasts forever, even beyond death. It seems a romantic concept but I enjoyed exploring it as it manifests in two different relationships.

Firstly, we have heroine Renata and her hero Finn. They were college sweethearts, first loves that never forgot each other, even after years of separation. When Renata and Finn encounter each other again after almost a decade, the resulting emotions overwhelm them. Both must grapple with feelings that seem foreign and familiar, and both must make the decision to take the plunge again.

And then we have Hugh and Claudia, my other pair of lovers. Their journey is a far different one, and it resulted in tragedy. Night Lover is actually the story of two romances that occur on two timelines. While Renata and Finn are my modern lovers, Hugh and Claudia lived in Regency England. And although both are dead when the novel begins, we suspect their romance may not have died with them. This is a novel of the paranormal, of course, and it is filled with magic and curses and demons.
For me, Hugh and Claudia were the perfect vehicle for demonstrating love can live forever. Although their affair is a star-crossed one, I knew I needed to find a way to give these lovers hope.

I hope Night Lover helps you believe in enduring love and that it fills your reading time with magic.


     Canadian soprano Renata Bruno is tired of waiting for her big break. Unfortunately, her boss, the conductor of a chamber ensemble, sees her as little more than background material. When she learns of an opportunity to sing solo with a different troupe in England, she knows she must seize it. Especially when she hears the group is to perform Mozart's Requiem, her favorite work.
     As soon as Renata decides to make her move, a strange, sultry presence invades her life. She begins dreaming of a man, one who makes love to her, bewitching her. It isn't long before her night lover leaves startling proof of his nocturnal presence, making her doubt her senses.
     To compound her discomfort, she learns her new conductor is the college boyfriend who broke her heart years ago. As Renata grapples with old hurts and renewed passion, she must also fend off the increasingly fervent advances of her night-time visitor. She realizes she is under the influence of an incubus, a sexual demon.
     It becomes harder to resist the incubus when she learns he has a name and had a tragic history. The more she discovers about his past, the more she realizes they are linked in more ways than one. Renata begins to rediscover love and her sense of faith, but will it be enough to save her night lover from an evil curse? And will it destroy her in the process?


     When I saw the face in this painting, I gasped, feeling as if someone had punched me in the gut.
     It was the portrait of a man, much in the style of a Gainsborough painting. Full-length, it displayed the man in Regency dress. Tall Hessian boots reached up over his pants, accentuating his height. A waistcoat peaked out from under his soft blue riding coat. I looked up to the face above the coat, clean-shaven and somehow boyish with its round features. His hair was the color of honey and quite curly, with long sideburns travelling down his cheeks. Although he bore a fashionably serious countenance, his blue eyes smiled.
     It’s him.
     The man from my recurring dream, the man from the theater mezzanine in Toronto. I blinked several times, not believing my eyes.
     I couldn’t move. I returned the stare of the man in the portrait. A friendly face, it still managed to unnerve me. The artist must have been a master because its subject seemed to be looking right at me. His pale eyes bore into mine. As I continued to gaze at my dream man, other objects in the background began to blur. The portrait frame and the wallpaper behind him dissolved into nothingness. I could only make out the man, and his gaze seemed to issue me a challenge, daring me to look back at him. My head swam. My tongue grew thick. Pain shot through my stomach and I clutched it so I wouldn’t keel over.
     Lizzy came out of nowhere and bounded up behind me. “What's up? Ooh, he's cute.” She, too, had noticed the portrait. She also saw how intently I stared. “Hey, are you okay?”
     “No.” I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t stop myself from raking my gaze over every painted inch. “It’s him. The man from my dream.”
     “Yeah, right.” She frowned.
     Finn walked up to us and put a hand on my back, oblivious to my shock. “So you’ve found the lord of the manor.”
     “Hugh Dawlish, scion of Dawlish Manor. The women in the ensemble love this portrait because they think he’s, ah…easy on the eyes. So, shall we rehearse?”
     I let him lead me away, but I couldn’t stop looking back at Hugh Dawlish’s portrait.       
     He was real. Not a wraith from my imagination.
     Real. And dead.
     Lizzy elbowed me. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
     “I’m fine.”
     As we left the room, I looked back once more. The eyes of Hugh Dawlish followed me. I shivered.
     A slight smile played on his lips.

Buy links:

Coming soon to other outlets.

Author Bio:

Rosanna Leo is a multi-published, erotic romance author. Several of her books about Greek gods, selkies and shape shifters have been named Top Picks at Night Owl Romance and The Romance Reviews.

From Toronto, Canada, Rosanna occupies a house in the suburbs with her long-suffering husband, their two hungry sons and a tabby cat named Sweetie. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.
A library employee by day, she is honored to be a member of the league of naughty librarians who also happen to write romance. Rosanna blogs at

Author Links:

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Atlantic Divide

As Loving Lydia, the first book in my Atlantic Divide series proved wildly popular when it was offered for free over a few days recently, my publisher Liquid Silver Books have decided to offer the other books in the series for 99p each (or $1.49 in the States).

I loved writing this series, and hope my readers enjoy it too.

Bad Girl Bill

Being confronted by two-dozen boxes of condoms and a wild-eyed woman possibly rated right up there in that uncomfortable zone.

She paced back and forward, walked around the opposite side of the kitchen table, flung her arm out and pointed at the offending items as soon as he walked through the door.

“There you go. Take your pick.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or run. He thought she might kill him in either case.

He chose to study the boxes on the table instead. “You seem to have pretty high expectations, Bill.”

“They’re all sealed.” She rubbed her hands roughly up and down her thighs; if she did it much harder, she was going to rub a hole in her jeans.

“Why wouldn’t they be sealed? Where did you get them?”

“Well I couldn’t get them from a store in town now could I? There’s not a single soul here that I don’t know, haven’t lectured, helped across a road, or arrested.” She wrapped her arms around her body, chewed on her lip as Michael tried desperately not to smile. She looked so serious. “I think my brothers may all be perverts.” She scowled across the table at him.

“You got them from your brothers?” He gave a wary nod; she may not need to kill him. “Brave move, Bill. When are they all arriving with their shotguns?”

She snorted out a laugh, leaned forward, and picked up one of the small packets. Waved it at him.
“I filched them. I went right into their house with a pecan pie that I bought in town, put it on the kitchen table, then trawled the house for their condoms while they were out.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, and when he opened them again, she was waggling another small box at him.

“Well, I don’t understand. These ones say they’re fruit-flavored. I have no idea what you would be doing putting one of those in your mouth. You could choke to death for the love of God.”
He nearly did. He watched her through narrowed eyes. She could not be serious, could she? Was she really that naive?

“And here”—she picked up another pack, tapped it on the table—“what in hell’s name are you supposed to do with these? They have the American flag emblazoned on them. Does that mean you have to stand to attention when you’re wearing them?” Throwing them back on the table, she picked up another pack, while he hauled in a gasping breath, trying his hardest not to guffaw. Standing at attention was a prerequisite, surely? He could feel gurgles of laughter rushing up through his belly into his chest. The woman was priceless. She wasn’t kidding; she was deadly serious.

“Why in the name of all that’s holy would you want something like this glowing at you in the dark? And these…these are colored, blue, green, purple; surely to Christ you’re going to look like you have a disease. I’m surprised there’s no polka dots here.” She picked one packet up after another, throwing them back on the table in disgust. “And
these warm up, and these ones…well, they’re studded.”

“Do you mean ribbed?”

“Uh, well isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, I’m pretty sure there’s a difference between ribbed and studded.”

She frowned at him, her eyes frenetic and confused. “There’s something wrong with my brothers. There isn’t a single condom here for normal use. I’m sorry. I guess I messed up. I have no condoms to speak of.” She flung her hand frantically across the table, swept half the boxes onto the floor.

“We can’t have sex,” she howled.

Michael’s smile faded fast as his amusement fled. “It’s okay, Bill.” He found he could speak at last. “I have it covered.” He reached delicately into his back trouser pocket and pulled out a small foil packet.

“Is that it?”

He glanced at the kitchen table, at the floor, and back to his fingers holding a single foil, a smile quirked across his lips.

“Well, what did you expect?”

“Well. More than one. Surely. The boys always say…”

“Bill. How about you forget what your boys have always said. Men lie. A lot.” He leaned across the table and took hold of her wrist to guide her around to his side, still holding the foil packet aloft in his other hand.

“Well, what does it do?” she demanded.

“It protects you from getting pregnant and from sexually transmitted diseases.”

“Is that it? It doesn’t have whistles or bells or lights or anything?”

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