New in the New Year

I don't know about you all but the new year has just started and I already feel like I'm behind. A new year means new possibilities but it also means new deadlines and new goals. My muse has been dumping plot bunnies on me left and right. I've been scrambling to get all the ideas written down so I don't forget them. And then there's the dreaded taxes. *gasp*

But amidst all this chaos and new year hubbub there's also a bit of the norm. New releases. I like the idea of starting the new year with a new book. It sets the tone for the rest of the year and hopefully that tone is a good one. So here's my latest from Razor's Edge Press.

Fantasy vs. Reality 
by Zenobia Renquist

(Contemporary Erotica)

When the line between fantasy and reality is erased, the real fun begins.

Stacy hates benefit dinners -- fake smiles and empty conversation with people she can barely tolerate. Good thing she has her imagination to keep her occupied with sexual fantasies involving the other guests. And as the night wears on, it gets harder to tell where fantasy ends and reality begins.

Buy Link: https://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1982

Excerpt (R):

A man bumped Stacy as he turned from the buffet table. Sauce from the small plate he carried dripped onto the swell of one of Stacy’s breasts. She made a perturbed noise and backed up a step, bumping a second person and not caring.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I should have looked before I turned,” the man said. “At least it missed the dress, right?” He gave a strained chuckle and then cleared his throat. “Here. Let me uh… get… uh… Excuse me.” He leaned over and put his plate down before reaching past Stacy.

She thought he would grab a napkin so she could get the sauce before it dripped between her breasts. A surprised squeak escaped her mouth when he slipped an arm around her waist and held her close as he ducked his head. His hot mouth landed on her skin, followed by his tongue. He licked her skin, removing the sauce and sending Stacy’s libido into overdrive.

She leaned back with her hands on his shoulders prepared to push him away. Her fingers bunched into the shoulders of his suit, pulling him closer as he trailed his mouth to the edge of her dress.

He said in a husky voice, feathering his breath across her skin, “I think I got it all, but I better check to be sure. You don’t want to be sticky.”

“No, I don’t.”

His tongue returned, delving between her breasts, as he scooped one hand into her dress and edged it down. Her breasts bounced when the dress gave way and exposed her nipples to the cool air. They hardened, begging for attention as the man worked his mouth down between her breasts and then to the side. When he took one nipple into his mouth, Stacy let out in a soft moan.

He circled his tongue around the hard nub and then flicked it before sucking at it. Stacy arched into his mouth with her leg riding his hip. A hard bulge in his pants pressed against her clit, exciting her more. Shifting her hips in a slight side-to-side motion, she rubbed her pussy against him.

The hand he had around her waist moved lower, slipping into the opening of her dress so he cupped her ass. Oh, yes. She was very happy she’d bought this dress. Easy access made everything better faster.

The man released her nipple with a soft pop and met her gaze. “Maybe you should do it instead.”

Stacy blinked a few times and reality reasserted itself. The man stood with a napkin held out to her and a sheepish expression that made him appear younger than he probably was. She snatched the napkin from him and dabbed at the sauce, getting to it right before it started dripping between her breasts.

“Sorry again.” He retrieved his plate and walked away.

Buy Link: https://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1982

--
Zenobia Renquist
Discover Different and Unique Romance
http://about.me/zenobiarenquist
Caveat Emptor Series :: Three couples caught in a war have only one solution -- peace. Si vis pacem, para bellum. :: http://zenobiarenquist.com/bookshelf/caveat-emptor-series

I can't believe it's been ten years!

No, not my marriage LOL. I've been married a lot  longer than that! I guess it is a marriage of sorts, though, because in November I'll have been writing for Ellora's Cave Publishing for ten years.


This month I had my sixtieth ebook release from EC, LOVERS' FEUD, the first in a new series called Caden Kink. It's been a fun, busy ride that I hope goes on for many more years--the company has great management, super editors and the best art department in the business!


I'm happy to be a part of the company's ten-year celebration, with all sorts of neat perks including new, super-hot covers for my oldies but goodies like AWAKENINGS-- a fairytale fantasy, probably the first or one of the first of the company's successful themed series.

AWAKENINGS came out first in the summer of 2003, an erotic takeoff on "Sleeping Beauty" and "Jorinda and Joringel" in which Jorinda falls under an evil witch's spell that requires two princes--in this case Jorinda and his twin brother Khalil--to make love to a sleeping princess and break the spells cast on both women.  Needless to say if you're familiar with my books, AWAKENINGS is a big departure from the contemporary erotic romances I usually write.

If you like erotic fantasies and haven't tried this one, check out the excerpt below...and get your updated copy with the beautiful cover by Syneca from Ellora's Cave, Amazon or other online retailers. It's also available in print, in the collection DARK FANTASIES.

EXCERPT:

 The most profound experience of his life. ‘Twas the only way Joringel could describe the orgasm that had overtaken not only his body but his heart and mind. Content, he lay on the mossy bed in the glen, tracing the sweet, womanly curve of Jorinda’s spine as she lay against his chest. Birds of red, green, yellow, and brilliant blue swooped down, then returned to perch in the branches of trees filled with fragrant blossoms.

The waning sun warmed his cheeks.

Paradise. Perhaps all he needed was this woman, not a thousand-year-old princess who’d only awaken to the touch of a worthy lover. Chances were, that worthy lover would have been Khalid, not he, in any case. Perhaps he’d take Jorinda, leave the forest ere evil befell them, and carve out a kingdom of his own in the verdant valley of Aphrodisias.

Yes. That was exactly what he’d do. Closing his eyes, Joringel imagined restoring the palace, fortifying the valley’s defenses…

Suddenly the sound of the birds’ songs changed, grew urgent. The sky darkened. Alarmed, Joringel drew Jorinda tightly into his arms as a huge black bird swooped down from the sky, its descent accompanied by an ominous rumbling from the top of a snow-capped mountain that lay far in the distance.

But his strength was no match for that of the mighty raptor. It grasped Jorinda by the waist and dragged her away…and up, up, up until she hung suspended from its huge yellow claws as though she weighed no more than one of the frightened songbirds.

Out of his reach. He searched for a tree to climb, that he might free her. None reached as high as the creature had already soared. Desperate now, for he now knew Jorinda was his destiny, Joringel snatched up his robe and sword, and took off running in the direction the bird had headed with its precious burden.

Toward Acilik Mountain, from which ‘twas said no man had ever returned.

The legends he’d heard and scoffed at before venturing into this place of tempting horrors now terrified him. Tales of maidens being carried away and turned to stone by Marij, the wicked witch of the mountain, never to be seen or heard from again, reverberated in his ears.

His original quest forgotten, Joringel uttered up prayers to the deities of his own people, and to the gods and goddesses that were said to keep the Aphrodisiasi people from harm.

“Protect my lady. Give me the strength to free her.” Joringel repeated those words like a mantra, though he had no clue as to how he might wrench his lover from the clutches of the evil one.

His concentration centered on his prayers, Joringel noticed only when he’d been neatly captured in the branches of a gnarled flower tree that he could no longer move about.

To no avail, he struggled to break away from the encircling branches. Finally realizing he’d been rendered helpless at least for the moment, Joringel assessed his surroundings. Nothing unusual. Only the forest, with its plants and creatures… He gawked, amazed, at the large snow-white owl when it landed on the ground before him, for the creature emitted a surrealistic glow, then changed into a wizened gnome before his eyes.

A gnome who looked much like the one his mother had described in the bedtime stories of his youth.
“Help me free myself, for I must hasten before it’s too late. The evil one has taken my lover.”

“She will go nowhere but to Acilik Castle. ‘Tis where Marij keeps all those she finds trespassing in this enchanted forest. Fear not. We’ll retrieve her in due course.”

Joringel struggled to break free, but the branches held him fast. “I must go to her now. I cannot lose her.”

“Calm yourself, my prince. First you have a more pressing duty: to break the spell Acilik Marij cast on my sleeping princess, for the time is upon us. Where is your brother, so we can get on with the seduction?” asked the gnome. “You are a prince of Gaziantep, are you not?”

“Yes, but—”

The gnome stomped one claw-like foot. “There is no time to argue, Your Highness. Marij’s curse was to last a thousand years, until the princes would come and waken Princess Talia.” The gnome’s wrinkled cheeks turned a brilliant red, and he lowered his gaze. “She’s to be awakened with all manner of carnal pleasures,” he added as though reluctant to impart that proviso.

Joringel had heard before that the awakening would involve mating with the sleeping princess, from wandering Aphrodisiasi minstrels who often visited the courts of Gaziantep, as well as in the Yazilikaya pleasure palaces. Understandably his mother had omitted that part of the legend when she’d told it to him and Khalid.

An hour ago Joringel would have argued that he could waken Talia alone—that his sexual prowess was without equal. Now, though, it was Jorinda he wanted—for life, with or without the kingdom that would come to the prince who awakened the Aphrodisiasi princess.

My Top Five Hero Requirements

Photo courtesy of Photos.com

I read romance not just to identify with the plucky heroine but also to fall in love with the hero. Most of us read to escape into other lives and worlds. I like to do my escaping with a hunk. Spaceship captain, investment banker, cowboy, soldier, barbarian or duke I find I enjoy them the most when they follow five basic guidelines.

1.      He is physically impressive. I don’t mean facial features though I won’t turn my nose up at a beautiful man. The first book I remember stealing, cough, I mean borrowing, at age fourteen from an aunt, was Julie Garwood’s The Prize. The hero, Baron Royce, had a significant facial scar. All the heroes I wrote that year were disfigured in some way.

By physically impressive I just mean that I like a large man. I like muscles whether they are sleek or bulky. Sure he needs to be able to lift a drink to his mouth and have a neck but other than that, I’m flexible (no pun intended). I sometimes watch wrestling with the mute on. I’m just saying. (I shrug here in a carefree manner.)

2.      He can kick ass and frequently does. Even if he doesn’t, he could. I am the daughter of a Marine. I rode past soldiers engaged in hot, sweaty, physical fitness on the way to the commissary during puberty. Enough said.

3.      He has a kind and gentle side. I like this in a hero even if the heroine is the only one who truly gets to see it. I like my heroes to be alphas and let’s face it, alphas can be pricks sometimes. It’s good to dial down the testosterone every once in a while.

4.      He’s dominant in the bedroom.Sigh. I write erotic romance. I really have closed a book or skipped over the love scenes if they were just a bit too vanilla. I like a little bite with my sex. I don’t write the hard stuff. I’ve read comments where my work is affectionately called intense. I subscribe to the “don’t like it, don’t look” school of romance.

5.      He loves and desires the heroine above everything else in his life. The hero would do anything to keep her emotionally and physically well. He would also do anything to keep her with him. I get antsy when the hero walks away from the heroine. Even if he thinks he needs to leave, I don’t want him to actually be able to do it.





Here is an excerpt from my eBook, Enslaved in Desire, that shows some of the sexual tension between my hero Venn and my heroine Camryn. It gives you a little taste of number 4.

The following excerpt is for those readers who are 18 and over only.

Copyright © Stormie Kent, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

He crowded her back and she watched in the mirror. He was dressed for meetings in a black dress coat, crisp white shirt and fitted black pants. The contrast of her nude body pressed against his fully clothed form made her press back against him to feel the pleasure of the smooth material against her hot skin.

“I didn’t tell you to move, sweet.” He stepped back.

She groaned. Her eyes clashed with his in the mirror.

“What’s with the restraint?” she asked.

“I know you like it when I hold you down, but I wanted to use my hands today. And you did say it would take chains to keep you in one place,” he replied.

She remained as still as possible and he watched her for a while before moving behind her once more. She wanted to think she would resist him, but she couldn’t. When he got like this, he wasn’t going to be put off and she liked how he handled her too much. She liked that he took all the passion and barbarian in himself and locked it down, only for it to emerge again once he’d made her mindless. She knew it was there, just sitting under the surface of his skin. She could see it in the way his smile didn’t match the fire in his eyes.

He gathered her hair in one hand and wrapped it once around his hand. He pulled her head gently to the side. She curled her toes into the carpet so she wouldn’t move.

His other hand came up, but only one finger trailed her throat from her hairline to her shoulder. His mouth followed and his cool hair swung forward and trailed over her arm and breast. He did the same thing over and over again to the back of her neck and then transferred her hair to his other hand and worked the same magic on the other side of her neck. He tugged harder on her hair and the pleasure shot straight to her cunt.

He stepped beside her and leaned forward, raining kisses on her chin and neck. Then he turned her loose completely. She whimpered.

“Keep your eyes on your face and body in the mirror,” he said, lacing his voice with command.

She stared into his eyes in the mirror. Then she lowered her gaze to her own face. Her eyes were slumberous. Her bottom lip was swollen where she’d bitten it in concentration and she was flushed.

“Beautiful,” he said.

*****                                                                   *****                                                           *****

So what are your requirements in a hero or heroine? Do you have any deal breakers? Are you attracted to one type of hero more than others? Leave a comment and let me know.

Stormie

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