Literary Lagniappe

Bloopers, bonus features, and behind the scenes views from all your favorite romances


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Valentine’s Day Gift from Lisa and Emily!

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

We decided that our characters deserved the chance to receive the Valentine’s Day gift of their dreams. So we’re each going to tell you what our heroine is getting for the special day!

*Giveaway: We’re giving one lucky winner a $20 Amazon gift card to help make their Valentine’s Day extra special! Just tell us what you think would be the ultimate Valentine’s Day gift.*

EMILY CALE

EC_powerplay_MD

I have two sexy heroes, Ian and Todd (from Power Play, the second installment in the Hat Trick Trilogy series), who need to team up to give their lucky woman a perfect night. While Ian, Todd, and Natalie decided to continue their menage relationship, they still need to keep things quiet. Ian and Todd are minor celebrities and they don’t want to deal with all the publicity that a confession about the unusual nature of their private life might bring. That can make a romantic evening a little more difficult. Which is why they decided to whisk Natalie off for the a long weekend away from prying eyes.

It might not be luxurious, but they settled on a nice cabin in the woods of British Columbia. It’s got a fully equipped kitchen for making the steak dinner they have planned, a private hot tub on the deck, and a wood burning fireplace in the living room. Better yet, it is far away from any other guests, giving them the freedom to be as wild and as loud as they want.

Of course, they aren’t stopping there. It’s a little too early to propose, so they settled on a nice diamond necklace. Now they just need to wait for the perfect moment over a bottle of wine in front of the roaring fire. I’m sure she’ll love it!

POWER PLAY is available from Decadent Publishing, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other e-book retailers.

***

LISA FOX

Here is a little bonus material for you, a short Valentine’s Day story featuring Rena and Trask from A MATTER OF LUST. Enjoy!

A Matter of Valentine’s Day by Lisa Fox

A Matter of Valentine's Day

“Today is Valentine’s Day,” Rena said, resting her head on Trask’s chest, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. They had just made slow, languid morning love and she was jelly in his arms, utterly boneless. She squinted at the ultra-bright sunlight streaming through their bedroom windows and shut her eyes against the glare. Sure, it seemed all shiny and inviting, but Rena knew exactly how depressingly deceptive that was. Brooklyn had been bombarded by cold and snow recently, and the world outside was ice, and nothing she wanted to deal with any sooner than she absolutely had to. She burrowed deeper into Trask’s arms, savoring his heat.

“I see,” he said, stroking his fingers through her hair, letting them roam down her back, and then up again, a leisurely trail that strummed her nerve endings and sent tiny chills dancing along her spine. Her body awoke again when he lingered over the curve of her ass and liquid desire rolled through her, settling deep between her thighs. “Is there something you’d like to do tonight?” His questing fingers traveled a little farther down, lightly bushing over her cleft. “Something special?” He nuzzled her hair and touched her mind in that weirdly magnificent demon way he had. Visions of him taking her hot and hard and fast from behind flooded her head, a dizzying array of imagines and sensations that made her gasp, her insides suddenly slick with need.

Rena smiled even as she sighed. It was amazing to have a lust demon for a lover, she wouldn’t trade Trask for anything, but as sexually satisfying as he was, the trappings of romance were often lost on him. She never doubted his love, but sometimes a girl needed flowers. Candy. A spontaneous long walk on a beach at sunset.

She looked back at the window, at the sleet and snow and ice plastered to the panes. She really did hate the winter. For a holiday that was supposed to be about warmth and passion, it certainly came at a depressing time of year. She kissed his chest and snuggled farther into his embrace. “No, not really. I mean, you know I have to work, make sure everything at the club is perfect for the party tonight. Valentine’s Day is a big event for us and I’m paying that DJ a ton of money. I need to be there.” Owning Lucid was one of the major joys of her life, but it was a ton of work sometimes.

He kissed the top of her head and resumed his long, slow stroke of her back. “We’ll do something when you get home then.”

“Yeah,” she agreed listlessly. The sex was going to be phenomenal tonight—it was always phenomenal —but she had been hoping for a little something more, a little something extra from him. She hugged him tight, allowing herself the sweet indulgence of being in his arms for five more minutes and then sat up. “I really need to get ready.” She kissed him hard, threw back the covers, and got out of bed.

Trask watched Rena’s lovely ass sway as she headed for the shower. He had been planning on attending an estate auction this evening while she was at work, a private showing of a collection that boasted artifacts from the five cities of the plain, including the wonderfully decadent Sodom and Gomorrah. He doubted it was true, those cities had been thoroughly smote and lost long ago, but the auction was enticing. Who knew what kind of debauched trinkets were on offer, what kinds of lost methods of torture and pleasure a trained and discerning eye could find? He still wanted to go, but now, he was rethinking that plan. Of course he knew about Valentine’s Day, the human holiday when the mortals permitted themselves an excuse to be utterly glutinous and feast on sweets and sex. He approved of the concept, but he’d never given the day much attention—it didn’t seem to hold as much significance for them as their other festivities, no special events occurred on this day, not like their New Year’s or 4th of July celebrations, but apparently it meant something extra to Rena. And if it meant something to her, then it meant something to him.

He got out of bed and their routine began, the synchronized dance they had developed over time as they lived together. Showers were taken, coffee brewed, breakfasts devoured. He walked her to Lucid, gave her a thorough kiss good-bye, and then took the subway into Manhattan. The day was bone-breaking cold, and Trask hurried to his destination, to one of his most favorite places in the city, the one place that always seemed to have everything he wanted—Barney’s New York.

The display windows were decorated with hearts and mannequins in red, but the people shopping were not filled with the bright glow of love or whatever it was this holiday was supposed to imbue them with. They seemed frustrated and annoyed, and their energy chaffed, made him frazzled and irritated. He scowled as he entered the fragrance department, not really sure what he wanted to do, but nevertheless intending to get it done quickly.

A young woman approached him as he navigated the aisles of products, flashing him a bright, white smile. “Hi,” she said, holding up a small, pink bottle. “Would you like to sample Lascivia for women? It will make your valentine swoon.”

Trask stopped walking. Swooning. That sounded like something he’d like Rena to do. He turned his full attention on the saleswoman and her eyes instantly went glassy. Even though he was committed to Rena, and Rena alone, he couldn’t seem to curb the effect he had on humans, the mindless sexual desire that he inspired within them. The saleswoman’s escalating lust sizzled on the tip of his tongue, a flavor like cotton candy. He didn’t want her taste, but he couldn’t afford to push her away just yet. She might be able to provide him some short of idea of what he should do. He touched her thoughts, shifting past the visions of things she would do with him if given the chance, smiling to himself as her fantasies rushed through his head. He always did bring out the best in mortals, granting them levels of imagination they didn’t usually possess. He was impressed with this woman, and he made note of a particularly interesting use of hot sauce to try with Rena later. He dipped further into her, searching for her thoughts on the day. Images danced in her mind, perfumes, candy, sparkly jewelry, and he knew that she had dinner reservations for later in the evening with a man whom she liked a lot, who she was hoping to receive some of these things from. Her expectations for what would occur later in the night were much more mundane than what she wanted to do with Trask, and he felt a distant stirring of pity for her that she was willing to settle for so much less.

Rena would be returning from her club too late for dinner, but he could easily obtain any of these tokens. He considered which of them he wanted for her as the images continued to spin around the woman’s head, and the weight of them, the brilliance, made him wonder if her desire for them was more than just the need to conform to what the humans told each other they must expect from this arbitrary and otherwise mundane Thursday. He delved deeper into her and he sensed the importance she attached to them, an emotion he had only just become familiar with over the recent months. An emotion he often felt within Rena. These objects weren’t just objects. Each item was somehow supposed to be representative of his level of caring and devotion.

Trask took a deep breath. This was going to be a full day. If these things meant to Rena what they seemed to mean to this woman, then he needed all of them. Immediately. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the saleswoman. “I must have all of these things,” he told her, enhancing the images in her mind to illustrate his point.

The woman blinked at him. “All of them?”

“Yes.” He waved toward the interior of the store. “Let’s begin.”

She took him through the various departments, and he purchased everything she selected, endless quantities of chocolates and jewelry and perfumes and lingerie. The process was arduous, and he was not pleased to learn that this would only be his first stop on his mission for the day. In addition to everything he bought, the saleswoman also seemed to hold flowers in high regard, as well as stuffed animals and champagne and balloons with clever sayings. Unfortunately, Barney’s did not carry any of these items. He was going to have to go elsewhere.

He arranged to have everything delivered to their home where the doorman would accept it for him. He tapped into the saleswoman again to get an idea what his itinerary should be and she dutifully supplied him with a list of stores he should visit. It was a long list. The taste on the air in the human’s energy was beginning to make sense now. He donned his coat, ready to depart, and the saleswoman flashed him another one of her bright smiles. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

“Thank you,” he said. He touched her mind one last time and selected one of her hotter thoughts, the one with the handcuffs and butter and plastic wrap, which he sensed was her favorite. He replaced the image of himself with that of her valentine and tucked it in the back corner of her mind, a tickle of an idea that would quietly sit, patiently waiting. Perhaps she would act upon it later that night. He hoped that she did.

***

Rena breathed in the cold night air as she exited Lucid. She fingered the box in her pocket containing the pair of onyx cufflinks she’d bought for him. They were perfect for Trask, dark and classy, yet with an edge. She figured he’d probably gotten her some kind of sex toy. She giggled to herself at the thought, her breath coming out in small white plumes.

A light snow began to fall as she journeyed down the avenue, past brightly lit shop windows filled with hearts and flowers and candy. She really couldn’t complain. Trask was a good man. Well, demon. Anyway, he loved her immensely and she never had to ever question his devotion to her. She didn’t have to depend on this holiday, this one random day, to feel his love. It was in his eyes every time he looked at her. She told herself these things as she walked and though she knew they were true, some part of her heart still wished he appreciated the significance of a box of chocolates or a card with a goofy poem.

She arrived home and when she opened the front door, she was assaulted with the scent of roses. She entered the apartment and froze. There were flowers everywhere. More than just flowers, the entire room was inundated with presents. Sparkly earrings, dazzling bracelets and necklaces and other glittery adornments peeked out between enormous stuffed animals, brown bears and pandas and dogs with hearts and hats. Balloons of all sizes and shapes and colors with words and pictures covered the ceiling and there were boxes of candy, chocolates, truffles, and fruit, pounds and pounds of every confection she had ever seen, interspersed with fat candles in red and silver and white. There was more, so much more, far too much to take in. No surface was spared, no corner left bare. Their apartment looked like it had been taken over by a squad of Oompa Loompas high on Valentine’s Day flavored crack.

“Trask?” she asked tentatively, a little intimated by the opulent display.

“Rena,” he answered, materializing out of the shadows beside her. Trask and the shadows were one, and his sudden appearances no longer startled her as they once had. She had come to accept that it was one of those demon things he did, much like touching her thoughts or always making her wickedest ideas seem very, very appealing. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his cheek against hers. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

“What did you do?” she asked, beginning to laugh. Just when she thought she had him all figured out, he went and did something like this.

He grinned, his handsome face beaming. “I bought every symbol I could find, every representation of my love the city had to offer.”

Rena smiled with him. “I can see that.”

He captured her chin, turning her face toward him. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Have I done something wrong?”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head. “No, why?”

“You seem more amused than romantically inclined. The women I touched today led me to believe that these gifts would please you.”

That sentence coming from any other man she had ever dated would probably have made her head explode. But she knew exactly what he meant and that his only motivation was to make her happy. She reached up and caressed strong line of his jaw. He was so sweet, though so thoroughly misguided at times. “You did please me. Thank you.”

He rested forehead against hers and she closed her eyes, letting his energy wash over, through her, letting him feel exactly how deeply he had moved her. It was always euphoric when he touched her mentally like that, when their essences combined. Her body heated in response, and she drew him into her arms, shamelessly rubbing herself against his lean, hard body.

“Hmm,” he said, and she opened her eyes to find him smiling. “Now that is the reaction I’d hoped for.”

Rena laughed merrily. “Oh, I see. So that’s really why you did all this after all.”

“No,” he said, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb. “Well, maybe a little.” He grinned at her. “What’s important is that I have earned a reward.” He kissed her mouth. “Correct?”

“Yes, you’ve definitely earned a reward,” she agreed. She was completely unable to resist him and she loved it.

He gave her a slow, long, kiss, a kiss that explored every inch of her mouth and still left her wanting more. She hadn’t realized he’d backed her up against the wall until she felt him push her up against it, his already hard cock pressing into her hip. He deepened the kiss when she hooked her leg around his waist and she moaned into his mouth when he cupped her pussy and squeezed. She was wet for him instantly and she rocked against him as he held her tightly.

They broke away from each other long enough for him to strip her of her coat, her scarf, her sweater and undershirt. “Here or in bed?” he asked as he tugged at her belt buckle.

“Bed,” she whispered, her voice breathless from her own aching need. Her jeans fell to the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his neck when he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom.

He gently deposited her on the bed and stripped off his clothes. She watched as each layer unveiled more smooth skin and hard muscle. He had a magnificent body, toned and lean and oh so delectable. He crawled beside her, unfastening her bra with one hand while his other hand toyed with the hem of her lace panties.

He bit her lower lip when she found him and began to slowly stroke the long, hard length of him. His hands were on her breasts, her ribs, her thighs, a restless exploration that stoked the flames in her core. She gasped when he slid a finger inside her and her insides fluttered when he added a second. Her fingers dug into his wrist has she took her pleasure from his fingers, encouraging him to stroke her harder, deeper. She was on the verge of coming when he took his hand away and she whimpered for him to fill the empty space he left within her.

“Rena,” he said, looking down at her. He gripped her thighs and slowly nudged them apart.

She opened for him, welcoming him, and he settled between her legs, sliding into her with one long thrust. She moaned as he filled her, turned inside out with the pleasure and she bucked against him, needing him deeper.

He touched her mind, lacing his energy into hers, while simultaneously stimulating every one of her pleasure centers. Her pussy throbbed, and she writhed beneath him as he plunged into her. She swore he somehow got harder, fuller, fatter, filling her beyond capacity. The pleasure was immense, so huge and sharp and tremendous it was painful. He pushed deeper into her and her inner muscles clenched around him, pulling in, urging him farther inside. He growled into her hair, withdrew, and plunged back in. She moaned as their hips met, his cock buried deep within her. He reached between them and found her clit, massaging it hard. She cried out as her legs trembled from the total sensation overload. She opened her body to him, her soul, and he touched her most inner core, gently at first and then with increasing intensity as he began to feed on her lust and her love, until she came with an orgasm so explosive, she shook from the force of it. He bit down on her shoulder as he followed after her, pumping into her with fierce abandon until he released every bit of himself inside her.

She fell back on the bed when he rolled off her, panting from the exertion. Her body hummed with pleasure, still buzzing from the force of her climax. It was a little ridiculous how hard he could make her come sometimes. Her vision slowly cleared, and she laughed as she looked around, finding their bedroom also adorned in gifts, decorated with even more candles and flowers and all kinds of lingerie. She shook her head and smiled over at him. “You blow my mind.” She reached out and he took her into his arms. “But only one present next year, okay?”

“Which one?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair. “Do you have a favorite?”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “Whichever one you like the most.”

The vibrations of his laughter tickled her cheek. “In that case, there’s some mint lube I think would be an excellent annual token of my affections.”

“Of course there is,” she said, snuggling into his embrace. She closed her eyes, smiling as she drifted off into contented sleep.

 


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The Faces of My Heroes by Lisa Fox

I feel that one of my most important jobs as a romance author is to create the sexiest hero I can. But before I can give shape and form to my heroes, give them personality quirks and hang-ups and wants and desires of their own, I have to know what they look like. Determining their looks is a very crucial first step for me in every single one of my stories. I must have a face to go with the name, a clear and vivid portrait of the man who is going to fall in love with my very lucky heroine. When I begin a new WiP, I spend a lot of time trolling the internet for a man with the right “look” to match the sketchy outline I have of him in my head. I need that physical face to look at, to go to when I inevitably get to a rut in the story and ask, “What are you going to do now?”

It’s funny, getting a picture of my hero is vital for me, but I don’t need the same pictorial symbol for my heroines. I am able to see them without any outside aids. I don’t even pretend to know why that is.

Since this is Literary Lagniappe and we are all about yummy extras here, I thought I might share with you some of the visual inspirations I found to help me with a few of my published books. And, as an added bonus, you can get to know one of my heroes a whole lot better. Just leave a comment and be entered to win your choice of my backlist! Contest ends 12/6/12 at 11:59 p.m. EST. Winner will be announced on Friday, December 7, 2012.

I hope you enjoy the view!

Arien – Sculpting a Demon

arien

Chin-length, midnight black hair framed a face too beautiful for words. High cheekbones, strong jaw, full lips—in her wildest dreams she couldn’t have created a more perfect example of male beauty.

Nate – Santa’s Sleeping Beauty

nate

Messy dark-brown hair framed his handsome face, and a spark of good-natured humor shone from the depths of his ice-blue eyes. The barest shadow of a beard highlighted the sharp angle of his jaw and outlined his very luscious lips. The t-shirt hugged his arms and fit snugly against the hard contours of his chest.

Trask – A Matter of Lust

trask

He was beautiful in the low light, the moonlight playing on the hard edges and plains of his handsome face. He was the sexy Darkman of her fantasies, the anonymous star of her late-night sweaty dreams. It wasn’t just that he was tall, dark-haired and all in black. It was in the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way his touch sent shooting sparks of electrifying lust all along her nerve endings.

Brant – Knightly Desire (Coming soon from Ellora’s Cave!!)

brant

She reached out, her fingers lingering in the air over the traces of grey in his dark, unruly hair, then down the side of his face, along the chiseled line of his jaw… He was muscular, rugged, the essence of male perfection.

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