by Jayne Rylon | Jan 22, 2011 | Uncategorized
Have a leaky faucet? Maybe you need your house renovated or some work done on your roof? Never fear, on Tuesday the Crew is back! I’ll send them over as soon as they’re finished looking hot on the cover of the Powertools books.
I’m thrilled! It’s ALMOST here. Well, actually, since you can pre-order it, I suppose it’s already sort of here. But… on Tuesday it’ll be official and you’ll be able to read it. What’s it? Morgan’s Surprise, the second installment in the Powertools series, woot!
Be sure to take advantage of Samhain’s new 30% off pre-order/new release discount for those who buy direct from the publisher making this new release less than 50 cents per hot guy (aka $1.75). You can also get it at Amazon or B&N if you prefer.
I have to say, I also just gave my approval on the cover for the next book in the series, Kayla’s Gift, which will be out in May and it is SMOKING hot. I can’t wait until it’s final final so I can show it off!
Below you’ll find the blurb and an excerpt from Morgan’s Surprise. I’m all excited so I’ll probably shout out some more about the rest of the series over the weekend if you’re interested in a sneak peak of Kayla’s Gift and the fourth book in the series, Devon’s Pair.
Coming Tuesday from Samhain Publishing
For a tasty birthday treat, add four men and stir.
Note to self: When confessing a crush on an ultra-hot construction worker to your best friend, make sure he’s not standing right behind you.
If Morgan thought spilling the beans on her lust for Joe would scare him off, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Following her birthday wish gone awry, the hunk is treating her to one surprise after another. From little things that make her smile to lavish, romantic dates, Joe is turning out to be the stuff of dreams
Joe’s attentions to the sexy pastry shop owner begin as lighthearted fun. Until he finds out about the past that, until now, has made her keep him at arm’s length. Determined to show her seeking pleasure is no crime, he sets out to fulfill her steamiest fantasies—with a little help from three of his best friends.
After a four-course birthday adventure, which presents Morgan as the sweetest imaginable dessert, she expects Joe to walk away. But now that Joe’s brought Morgan out of her shell, he’s hungry for something he never expected to crave—a forever kind of love.
An excerpt from
Morgan’s Surprise
Copyright © 2011 Jayne Rylon
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Morgan aimed a puff of breath at the flame dancing on top of the candle.
“Wait! Too fast! Didn’t you make a wish first?” Kate jerked the plate holding Morgan’s cupcake out of the trajectory of the warm air. The orange glow dimmed but didn’t extinguish. “There must be something you want.”
Carnal visions burned hotter than the fire melting the sprinkle-coated frosting of her gourmet confection into a golden pool. The color reminded Morgan of the burnished skin of her crush. It should be illegal for Joe to gallivant without a shirt on as often as he did. Spectacular memories of his displays sparked her fantasies at the most inopportune moments of the day and wreaked havoc on her sleep patterns.
Kate was polite enough not to hound her while she let her gaze wander, devouring the glistening expanse of Joe’s perfect shoulders. Morgan sighed when she thought about the painted wooden sign he’d crafted—and now hung—outside the plate-glass window of her fledgling bakery. It bore the name he’d helped her brainstorm. Sweet Treats.
So thoughtful. And sexy as hell.
It kind of surprised her not to see steam rolling off his bunched muscles. How could he be comfortable working half-naked in the brisk autumn air? She shook her head. The motion didn’t erase all the naughty ideas sabotaging her rationality. The dirty thoughts tempted her with a variety of ways to warm the handyman up when he finished his task and rejoined them inside.
Morgan sighed when a snap of fingers returned her attention to the interior of her admittedly cute shop. It’d taken six months to decorate everything just so.
“You going to pick something…maybe someone? Or are you planning to wait until wax drips all over your birthday cupcake?” Kate chuckled.
Morgan decided denying her infatuation with Joe would be futile. Kate had been her best friend since grade school. The lucky bitch had referred the hunky craftsman and his crew of skilled friends in the peak of the summer heat—after she’d scored the crew’s foreman for herself.
No way could Kate miss Morgan’s similar craving.
The crew had taken on odd jobs, fixing up the crummy space in the strip mall that housed Morgan’s boutique in exchange for loads of the decadent goodies she whipped up. Damn, those guys could eat. She wondered if manual labor accounted for all of the voracious appetite they possessed. It had to take more than swinging a hammer to burn off those calories. Lord knew they found some way to stay fit and trim.
She’d baked Joe’s favorite today—a caramel apple tart. He deserved that and more for his considerate gesture. Two customers had already stopped in to say the colorful sign had caught their eye. Thanks to him, she’d sold out of brownies and cheesecake long before the after-work rush. Too bad she couldn’t generate the nerve to offer him something a little more sinful than her luscious dessert as a reward.
She’d considered it once or twice before, but she couldn’t stop drooling long enough to try. Always quick to flash his toned abs and rock solid biceps, Joe kept her off balance and lost in a haze of unvented desire. He’d become her favorite treat weeks ago. An instant addiction. Thoughts of him left her craving a taste—or more—of him in the dead of night.
She bit her lip when he reached for something along the roofline. From his perch on the ladder, his body rippled with strength.
“Damn, Kate. I don’t think the birthday fairy would sanction what I have in mind.” Morgan grimaced at the dopey grin on her friend’s face. Three months of blissful dating and wild nights with her boyfriend, Mike, had turned the woman into a ridiculous ball of giggles with a perma-smile. Worse were the googly eyes that emerged when the love of her life entered the room. Kate and Mike’s soul-deep bond was hell to be around.
Jealousy didn’t exactly flatter a girl.
“The big 3-0’s not until the weekend anyway.” Morgan pried her stare from Joe.
“I know but Mike and I will be out of town then, so it counts today. Besides, you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Kate squeezed Morgan’s hand. “Sometimes dreams come true. Believe me.”
Yep. There went that grin again. “Your face is going to stick like that if you’re not careful.”
Kate kept right on beaming.
Morgan swallowed hard then scrunched her eyes closed. She was tired of hoping Joe would ask her out. So she tried a new tactic instead.
I wish I had the courage to ask him on a date. It’s time to move on. Time to try again. I wish I could take a risk—be wild for once in my life.
When she blinked into the amber autumn light streaming through the window, Joe had vanished. A cosmic sign? Or had he needed some extra tool off his pickup?
“So… Was Joe the only guy involved in that wish or did some of the other hot construction workers we know feature in it too?”
Morgan’s mouth gaped open. More than Joe?
She never would have confessed to greed that titanic on her own, but Kate knew her better than anyone. Morgan had thought about it. A lot. The way the guys worked seamlessly together on projects made their bond impossible to ignore. When they’d crowded upstairs—in her tiny apartment over the bakery—for beer and cookies, they’d overflowed the cramped space with testosterone and something a bit more elusive.
Their camaraderie transcended their partnership. At least she thought it did. But she could have imagined the inside jokes, meaningful looks and secret smiles more common between lovers than friends.
The men’s intimacy could have been a figment of her overactive imagination but there was no mistaking their open arms. They’d accepted her right away, making her more than just a friend of a friend. Every time Morgan witnessed the interplay between the partners, her mind had spun with possibilities. That didn’t mean she had to say so. “Isn’t it one of the cardinal rules of wishing—if you tell, it won’t come true?”
“Come on, you don’t believe that nonsense do you?” Kate joked but persisted with a wiggle of her brows. “Fess up. You’ve wondered what it would be like to have them in your bed. At the very minimum, you’re burning up the sheets with Joe in your dreams.”
“Okay, fine. How could any woman resist? They’re buff, hardworking, playful, sexy as sin and sweet. I’ve got it bad for Joe. So damn bad. Like, worse than our Bon Jovi lust in high school bad. He’s strong but gentle. I could talk to him for days. He’s always surprising me with little things that make my day. And the way he fills out those ripped jeans has me thinking I’m going into cardiac arrest every time he bends over. But the rest of the crew isn’t far behind. Hell I’m so distracted, I’ve burnt more cookies since they’ve come around than in all the rest of my life.”
“About time you admitted it.”
Morgan’s heart froze at the deep rumble over her shoulder. It kicked in triple time when a broad hand settled on the side of her neck. She jerked from the retro-dinette chair she and Joe had salvaged and restored last weekend.
The sneaky bastard caught the vinyl-covered seat, saving it from crashing to the floor. Would he do the same for her if her jellied knees gave out?
“You set me up.” She gaped at Kate, betrayal and humiliation burning her cheeks.
“No, I’m sorry.” Her best friend stood, reaching out, but Morgan scooted further into the corner to avoid her seeking grasp. “I didn’t know he was there. I swear.”
“I came through the kitchen. Left my boots out back so I wouldn’t track mud all over the place.” Joe waved toward his socks. His grin turned feral. “But I won’t pretend to be sorry about what I heard. You want me. Bad.”
“Jerk!”
“Maybe. But only because I’ve let this shit go on too long.”
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 16, 2011 | Uncategorized
Before I go squeeing about the awesome review, I wanted to remind you about my contest for Sylvia Day’s latest and greatest book. Just comment on the contest post (right below this one) to be entered. You have until 1/21. Okay, so… Shifting Gears got a 4.5 Lip review from Two Lips Reviews! SQUEEEEEE
You can read the entire review on their site but here’s my favorite section of what reviewer Rose had to say, “While some would find Sloan’s proposal too daring, both Lynn and Bastian realize that it’s a fantasy they too share and these four friends embark on a night no one will forget. I really liked how Ms. Rylon developed the characters and their mutual friendship in this story. Not many women would take the risk that Sloan took in fulfilling their lover’s fantasy—she risked not only their relationship but the mutual friendship they shared with Lynn and Bastian. Bastian and Mark also took a risk; would the actions of one night change their working relationship? I was very pleased with how this story concluded and I look forward to reading more of Ms. Rylon’s work. Want to know if the Cougar got her Cub? Read Shifting Gears to find out.”
Buy from Amazon
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Buy from EC
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 15, 2011 | Uncategorized
Recently I realized that Sylvia Day and I are going to be release sisters! How cool is that? She has a new book coming out on January 25th. So, I have to confess, I generally am not a huge historical fan. But there are a handful of authors in the genre whose stories are so awesome they force me to love them. Jennifer Haymore, Dawn Halliday, Sabrina Jeffries, Samantha Kane, old school Catherine Coulter (Mari Carr got me hooked!) and of course Sylvia suck me right into their worlds. I love their books to pieces!
The moment I saw the cover of this one I knew I had to have it. How can you resist? In case you are better than me and don’t judge a book by it’s cover, check out the awesome blurb and excerpt below.
Sylvia has been kind enough to donate a copy to a lucky reader of this blog! All you have to do is comment to be entered into the drawing. The contest will remain open until January 21st. You can get your hands on Pride and Pleasure when it releases on January 25th. The same day Morgan’s Surprise will unleash the rest of the guys from Kate’s Crew on the world 🙂
PRIDE AND PLEASURE by Sylvia Day
Wealth has its dangers…
There are disadvantages to being an heiress, as Eliza Martin knows well. Fortune hunters flock to her, acquaintances lie and pander, and lately, someone is engineering “accidents” to propel her to the altar. But Eliza will not be bullied, and she will get to the bottom of this plot. All she needs is a man to infiltrate her assemblage of suitors and find the culprit. Someone not easily noticed; a proficient dancer, quiet, and even-tempered.
…so do certain men
Thief-taker Jasper Bond is entirely too large, too handsome, and too dangerous. Who would believe that an intellectual like Eliza would be seduced by a man of action? But the combination of her stubbornness and the mystery makes the case one Jasper can’t resist. Client satisfaction is a point of pride and it’s his pleasure to prove he’s just the man she needs after all…
~~~~~
Available January 25
ISBN: 978-0758231727
Kensington Brava
~~~~~
Jasper watched her with an enigmatic smile. “I like this.”
“The dance?”
“The way you follow my lead. The feel of your body moving in just the way I want, with only the slightest urging.”
“You like being in control.”
Jasper paused mid cross step. Their faces were turned toward one another, their lips only inches apart. “And you like me in control.”
“Perhaps—” she lowered her gaze to his lips, “—being out of control is my aim.”
His hand tightened on her waist. “Are you propositioning me, Miss Martin?”
“What would you do if I did?”
“Anything you want.”
He sidestepped, so that their bodies were aligned. Face to face. Jasper was such a large, strong man. She felt so delicate when she was with him, yet never overpowered.
“You know what I want,” she whispered, blushing.
“A kiss?” He gently pulled another pin from her hair. “An embrace?”
“More.”
“How much more?”
She bit her lower lip.
Jasper caught her chin. “Shyness has no place between us.”
“I don’t want to be… overbold.”
“Sweetheart.” His tone was soft and warm. “Can you still be unaware of how I relish your esteem and desire? Haven’t I told you how deeply they please me and how much satisfaction I derive from them?”
“As if I’m the only woman to admire you,” Eliza said wryly.
“You’re the only woman whose admiration has value to me.”
“Why? There’s nothing special about me. Whatever pleasing traits I possess are better represented in other females.”
“Not in the combination with which you are blessed.” His hand drifted from her jaw line and closed around her breast. He studied her reaction as his thumb circled a highly sensitive nipple. “I love that you are beautiful and clever and carry a constant desire for me. You could not be more perfect.”
Her body responded instantly to his expert touch—her nipples tightened into aching points and the flesh between her legs throbbed with need.
“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, anchoring her with a hand at her hip. With two fingers, he rolled and tugged the erect point of her breast, the pressure too light to offer any relief.
She felt pliable and wanton. Intoxicated. They’d been alone for an hour, only inches apart; his body had been in motion the entire time. Watching him move was a seduction in and of itself. She couldn’t keep herself from wanting him. Her infatuation was far too great to be moderated.
“I want you naked,” she breathed.
A soft rumbling came from his chest, sounding suspiciously like a purr. “Why?”
Her hands moved of their own volition, catching the lapels of his coat. “Take this off.”
His wicked smile made her toes curl. He shrugged out of the expensive garment and let it fall to the floor. “Better?”
“Not nearly.” She caressed his arms through his shirtsleeves. Looking behind him at the mirror on the opposite wall, she drank in the view of his buttocks and thighs. The sight, smell, and feel of him were all aphrodisiacs to her.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You surprise me in all the best ways. Should I hang a mirror above our bed?”
“Jasper…” A shiver of mortified delight moved through her. “I would never be able to look.”
“I think you won’t be able to look away. Shall we prove it?”
Eliza stilled. “Here?”
“Would Melville disturb us?”
She shook her head. “How…?”
Her mind rushed forward, planning how they could manage a coupling without a bed.
“Your nipples are so pretty,” he murmured, drawing her attention to her bodice. She was shamelessly, visibly aroused. “So tiny and petite.”
He stayed her when she moved to cover herself. “Unfair for you to hide when I cannot.”
She followed the gesturing sweep of his hand and found the bold outline of his erection straining the placket of his breeches. A soft sound of yearning escaped her. She wished for nothing more than to be naked with him, his powerful body flexing and working atop hers, his long thick penis pushing deep into her. Despite her lingering soreness, the lure of orgasm was too great to be denied.
He stroked himself brazenly through the doeskin. “You cannot have this again so soon.”
“Why not?” she demanded, her gnawing desire making her audacious.
“You’re sore, and I’m not in possession of a condom.”
Knowing he was vulnerable to her, she closed the distance between them. With one hand at his nape and the other gripping his buttock possessively, she rubbed against him like a cat.
Jasper’s chest vibrated with a chuckle, stimulating her already tender nipples. “Vixen,” he murmured, bending his knees and notching his erection against her swollen sex. He worked her against him, stroking where she ached with the stone-hard length of him.
“Yes,” she panted, her nails digging into his skin. “I want this.”
His lips moved against the shell of her ear. “You can’t have it, I told you. But I can make you come. Would you like that, Eliza?”
“Please.” She felt feverish.
“Are you wet for me?”
“Jasper!”
“Show me.” He backed away. “Lift your skirts and bare yourself.”
Despite the extremity of her desire, Eliza was still mortified by the request. It was one thing to be in his arms and lost to his skill. It was quite another to stand alone and lewdly display herself. “I cannot.”
His eyes were so very dark. “I promise to reward your courage.”
She fought against years of training and memories of her mother’s promiscuity to blossom as he wished her to do. She’d always believed intimacy was built through time and familiarity. Now she knew it could also be based simply on trust.
She clutched her skirts in her hands. “I suppose you’ve seen countless pantalettes before.”
The corner of Jasper’s mouth twitched. “Countless? How debauched do you think I am?”
“Enough to ask me to do this.”
“True enough,” he conceded with a regal bow of his dark head. “But I did not ask.”
She might have taken him to task for his arrogance, if her brain hadn’t leaped in another direction. So rare is this particular skill, that many a woman will disregard other considerations in favor of it, he’d said the day they had first met. And she’d laid claim to a man who possessed such expertise and wanted to practice it on her. How foolish was she to deny herself?
Before she altered her mind, Eliza yanked up her narrow skirts.
The way he looked at her caused the hairs on her nape to stand on end. “How brave you are,” he praised.
Emboldened by his admiration, she untied the ribbon that secured her pantalettes around her waist. The lace-hemmed linen fell to the floor and pooled around her ankles.
“Sweet Eliza,” he murmured, his foot deliberately catching on his discarded coat and sliding it across the floor to a spot directly in front of her. “You are more generous than I deserve.”
He sank to his knees.
Good luck and happy reading!
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 12, 2011 | Uncategorized
So, I was browsing on Amazon and what popped up in my suggestions for books I might enjoy? A brand spanking new print anthology that my book, Driven, is part of! I knew Needing a Cougar was slated to be released sometime in 2011 but I didn’t expect it to be 1/3/11! I’m thrilled to share the book with Regina Carlysle and Fran Lee. The book features three stories from the Cougar Challenge series at Ellora’s Cave.
Buy at Amazon
Buy at B&N
Drilled, by Regina Carlysle Lori Donovan accepts the Cougar Challenge and pledges to snag a hot young stud once she’s moved back to her Texas hometown. There she finds hunky Jackson Blue drilling for oil on her property. A driller. Hmm…
Driven, by Jayne Rylon Lynn Madison transforms from corporate drone to seductress when her friends issue the Cougar Challenge. Her conquest? A stranger at an airport, sexy rally car driver Sebastian Fiori-who spots Lynn’s decadent ménage novel and decides to take her for the ride of a lifetime-with his navigator Mark.
Nothing but Sex, by Fran Lee Lee Blackhorse thinks she’s nuts for lusting after her younger weekend helper, but Mike Running Elk has no problem envisioning himself as Lee’s lover. In fact, if he can get her to realize he’s plenty old enough to ring her bell, he plans to do more than just clean her barn and mow her grass. He’s waited long enough. One stimulating challenge…three carnal cougars.
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 8, 2011 | Uncategorized
Holy crapoly! How did I miss this? Someone just showed me an amazing 4 star review for Razor’s Edge from RT magazine. You can read the whole thing here but they had some really phenomenal insight into the book.
“Razor’s Edge balances humor and eroticism perfectly and the revelations behind heroine Isabella’s failed marriage, her family history and a sex slavery ring keep the plot fresh and full of suspense. Isabella will resonate with readers as a spunky, resilient heroine with an undeniable sultry side. Her pairing with Razor provides absolutely electric chemistry and the entire first half of the novel reads as great foreplay until the two can consummate their desire. Readers may have to suspend their disbelief for a few of the raunchier scenes — and some may be turned off by kinkier S&M scenarios involving Isabella’s villainous husband Malcolm and other men. Nevertheless, the novel’s sexual scenes deepen the readers’ understanding of the characters. You won’t want to miss the next installment of this guilty pleasure series!”
Buy from Amazon
Buy from B&N
Buy from ARe
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 7, 2011 | Uncategorized
I’m excited to share the very first review for Morgan’s Surprise (sequel to Kate’s Crew) from A Romance Review! They gave it 4.5 roses. You can view the entire review on their site but this is my favorite part: “If you’ve thought about a ménage a trois or more, pick up Morgan’s Surprise you will not be disappointed.”
Just 18 more days until release day!
Pre-order from Amazon
Blurb:
For a tasty birthday treat, add four men and stir.
Powertools, Book 2
Note to self: When confessing a crush on an ultra-hot construction worker to your best friend, make sure he’s not standing right behind you.
If Morgan thought spilling the beans on her lust for Joe would scare him off, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Following her birthday wish gone awry, the hunk is treating her to one surprise after another. From little things that make her smile to lavish, romantic dates, Joe is turning out to be the stuff of dreams
Joe’s attentions to the sexy pastry shop owner begin as lighthearted fun. Until he finds out about the past that, until now, has made her keep him at arm’s length. Determined to show her seeking pleasure is no crime, he sets out to fulfill her steamiest fantasies—with a little help from three of his best friends.
After a four-course birthday adventure, which presents Morgan as the sweetest imaginable dessert, she expects Joe to walk away. But now that Joe’s brought Morgan out of her shell, he’s hungry for something he never expected to crave—a forever kind of love.
Excerpt:
Morgan aimed a puff of breath at the flame dancing on top of the candle.
“Wait! Too fast! Didn’t you make a wish first?” Kate jerked the plate holding Morgan’s cupcake out of the trajectory of the warm air. The orange glow dimmed but didn’t extinguish. “There must be something you want.”
Carnal visions burned hotter than the fire melting the sprinkle-coated frosting of her gourmet confection into a golden pool. The color reminded Morgan of the burnished skin of her crush. It should be illegal for Joe to gallivant without a shirt on as often as he did. Spectacular memories of his displays sparked her fantasies at the most inopportune moments of the day and wreaked havoc on her sleep patterns.
Kate was polite enough not to hound her while she let her gaze wander, devouring the glistening expanse of Joe’s perfect shoulders. Morgan sighed when she thought about the painted wooden sign he’d crafted—and now hung—outside the plate-glass window of her fledgling bakery. It bore the name he’d helped her brainstorm. Sweet Treats.
So thoughtful. And sexy as hell.
It kind of surprised her not to see steam rolling off his bunched muscles. How could he be comfortable working half-naked in the brisk autumn air? She shook her head. The motion didn’t erase all the naughty ideas sabotaging her rationality. The dirty thoughts tempted her with a variety of ways to warm the handyman up when he finished his task and rejoined them inside.
Morgan sighed when a snap of fingers returned her attention to the interior of her admittedly cute shop. It’d taken six months to decorate everything just so.
“You going to pick something…maybe someone? Or are you planning to wait until wax drips all over your birthday cupcake?” Kate chuckled.
Morgan decided denying her infatuation with Joe would be futile. Kate had been her best friend since grade school. The lucky bitch had referred the hunky craftsman and his crew of skilled friends in the peak of the summer heat—after she’d scored the crew’s foreman for herself.
No way could Kate miss Morgan’s similar craving.
The crew had taken on odd jobs, fixing up the crummy space in the strip mall that housed Morgan’s boutique in exchange for loads of the decadent goodies she whipped up. Damn, those guys could eat. She wondered if manual labor accounted for all of the voracious appetite they possessed. It had to take more than swinging a hammer to burn off those calories. Lord knew they found some way to stay fit and trim.
She’d baked Joe’s favorite today—a caramel apple tart. He deserved that and more for his considerate gesture. Two customers had already stopped in to say the colorful sign had caught their eye. Thanks to him, she’d sold out of brownies and cheesecake long before the after-work rush. Too bad she couldn’t generate the nerve to offer him something a little more sinful than her luscious dessert as a reward.
She’d considered it once or twice before, but she couldn’t stop drooling long enough to try. Always quick to flash his toned abs and rock solid biceps, Joe kept her off balance and lost in a haze of unvented desire. He’d become her favorite treat weeks ago. An instant addiction. Thoughts of him left her craving a taste—or more—of him in the dead of night.
She bit her lip when he reached for something along the roofline. From his perch on the ladder, his body rippled with strength.
“Damn, Kate. I don’t think the birthday fairy would sanction what I have in mind.” Morgan grimaced at the dopey grin on her friend’s face. Three months of blissful dating and wild nights with her boyfriend, Mike, had turned the woman into a ridiculous ball of giggles with a perma-smile. Worse were the googly eyes that emerged when the love of her life entered the room. Kate and Mike’s soul-deep bond was hell to be around.
Jealousy didn’t exactly flatter a girl.
“The big 3-0’s not until the weekend anyway.” Morgan pried her stare from Joe.
“I know but Mike and I will be out of town then, so it counts today. Besides, you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Kate squeezed Morgan’s hand. “Sometimes dreams come true. Believe me.”
Yep. There went that grin again. “Your face is going to stick like that if you’re not careful.”
Kate kept right on beaming.
Morgan swallowed hard then scrunched her eyes closed. She was tired of hoping Joe would ask her out. So she tried a new tactic instead.
I wish I had the courage to ask him on a date. It’s time to move on. Time to try again. I wish I could take a risk—be wild for once in my life.
When she blinked into the amber autumn light streaming through the window, Joe had vanished. A cosmic sign? Or had he needed some extra tool off his pickup?
“So… Was Joe the only guy involved in that wish or did some of the other hot construction workers we know feature in it too?”
Morgan’s mouth gaped open. More than Joe?
She never would have confessed to greed that titanic on her own, but Kate knew her better than anyone. Morgan had thought about it. A lot. The way the guys worked seamlessly together on projects made their bond impossible to ignore. When they’d crowded upstairs—in her tiny apartment over the bakery—for beer and cookies, they’d overflowed the cramped space with testosterone and something a bit more elusive.
Their camaraderie transcended their partnership. At least she thought it did. But she could have imagined the inside jokes, meaningful looks and secret smiles more common between lovers than friends.
The men’s intimacy could have been a figment of her overactive imagination but there was no mistaking their open arms. They’d accepted her right away, making her more than just a friend of a friend. Every time Morgan witnessed the interplay between the partners, her mind had spun with possibilities. That didn’t mean she had to say so. “Isn’t it one of the cardinal rules of wishing—if you tell, it won’t come true?”
“Come on, you don’t believe that nonsense do you?” Kate joked but persisted with a wiggle of her brows. “Fess up. You’ve wondered what it would be like to have them in your bed. At the very minimum, you’re burning up the sheets with Joe in your dreams.”
“Okay, fine. How could any woman resist? They’re buff, hardworking, playful, sexy as sin and sweet. I’ve got it bad for Joe. So damn bad. Like, worse than our Bon Jovi lust in high school bad. He’s strong but gentle. I could talk to him for days. He’s always surprising me with little things that make my day. And the way he fills out those ripped jeans has me thinking I’m going into cardiac arrest every time he bends over. But the rest of the crew isn’t far behind. Hell I’m so distracted, I’ve burnt more cookies since they’ve come around than in all the rest of my life.”
“About time you admitted it.”
Morgan’s heart froze at the deep rumble over her shoulder. It kicked in triple time when a broad hand settled on the side of her neck. She jerked from the retro-dinette chair she and Joe had salvaged and restored last weekend.
The sneaky bastard caught the vinyl-covered seat, saving it from crashing to the floor. Would he do the same for her if her jellied knees gave out?
“You set me up.” She gaped at Kate, betrayal and humiliation burning her cheeks.
“No, I’m sorry.” Her best friend stood, reaching out, but Morgan scooted further into the corner to avoid her seeking grasp. “I didn’t know he was there. I swear.”
“I came through the kitchen. Left my boots out back so I wouldn’t track mud all over the place.” Joe waved toward his socks. His grin turned feral. “But I won’t pretend to be sorry about what I heard. You want me. Bad.”
“Jerk!”
“Maybe. But only because I’ve let this shit go on too long.”
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Jan 5, 2011 | Uncategorized
Whipped Cream gave Shifting Gears 4.5 cherries! Their review made my day. You can read the entire review on their site but here are some of my favorite parts:
“While I didn’t get the first installment to the dual story for the cougar challenge I never felt lost, so this story easily stands alone. Mark is a perfect alpha male and you can see that he truly cares for Sloan from the very beginning. Sloan is a great leading woman. She is what every cougar should be and then some.
Ms. Rylon never fails to steam up the windows with her sex scenes. Once I started reading this book I could not put it down. With every turn of the page I felt more in touch with the characters and couldn’t help but fall in love with them. The descriptions of the places they travel are so very well put that you can almost visualize yourself there.
If you’re looking for a solid story full of hot love scenes with plenty of heart, you definitely have to get this book. You won’t be disappointed.”
This book features one of my favorite heroes of all time. Mark Rossi. You might remember him as the third from Sebastian and Lynn’s menage in Driven. Well, now the three of them are on tour in China. It’s a unique story because it’s the first foursome (involving two couples) I’ve ever written. The dynamic was really interesting to explore. It’s an f/m/m/f foursome, in case you were wondering 🙂
The other fun part of writing this book is that I got to use a lot of things I saw on my own trip to China including Guangzhou, Hong Kong and Cheung Chau. I posted a bunch of picture of things in the story if you’re interested. You can find the post on the blog from Shifting Gears release day.
Available at Ellora’s Cave
Available at Amazon
Available at B&N
Available at ARe (60% off sale going on right now for all EC titles!)
Blurb:
A standalone book in the Cougar Challenge series, this book picks up the story of Mark Rossi (introduced in Driven). Books in the Cougar Challenge series do not have to be read in order to be enjoyed.
Mark envies his friend Sebastian and the Cougar who tamed him. For years he’s had his eye on a sexy, older, married woman. Despite his and Bastian’s sexual adventures, he refuses to poach outside his steamy fantasies.
Sloan travels with the race car drivers as the league’s publicist. Living abroad can be lonely, especially when touring somewhere like China—where beautiful landscapes surround them but language and cultural barriers are high. Until she meets Lynn, who shares her love of erotic romances. In Lynn, she gains more than a friend because sexy-as-sin navigator Mark is never far from the Cougar and her fiancé, making Sloan wonder if it’s time rejoin the dating scene after a nasty divorce.
When Lynn notices the chemistry between Mark and Sloan, she issues the Cougar Challenge. Sloan never imagined she might grant her younger lover the strength to explore the sexual tension that has been building between him and his friend since their Cougars entered their lives.
Four friends, two couples, one night none of them will forget.
Reader Advisory: Novel contains a f/m/m/f ménage.
Excerpt:
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
|
An Excerpt From: SHIFTING GEARS
Copyright © JAYNE RYLON, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
“Oh my God!”
The woman on the corrugated aluminum bleacher several rows in front of Sloan turned with wide eyes when Sloan shouted. She caught Sloan’s stare on the sexy cover of her erotic romance novel and flipped it closed—cover side down—discretely.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Sloan smiled. “I know how it is when you’re lost in a good book. And that book is fan-fucking-tastic! I love Mari Carr. Her stories are smoking hot. Especially the ménages. Yum.”
The woman grinned and nodded. “I’ve read almost all of hers. My reading group back in the US mailed me this one. It arrived last night and I’m halfway done already. I tried to ration it out—a chapter a day—but it’s impossible.”
“Thank God for ebook readers, huh? I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have access to all the new releases from this side of the globe.” Sloan stepped into the stands then picked her way down the incline, closer to the woman, careful not to slip in her three-inch heels.
At least she’d worn jeans to the race site today instead of her usual skirted suit. “I hear that. It can get lonely being a foreigner in a country where you don’t speak the language. Especially one as difficult to pick up as Mandarin or Cantonese. Reading keeps me from getting too homesick, though it leads to other…complications.”
When the woman laughed, her entire face brightened. Around Sloan’s age, close to forty, she seemed carefree and infectiously happy. “I know what you mean. Or at least I used to. Now I have a young stud to keep me occupied when I get revved up. I’m engaged to Sebastian Fiori. The driver for—”
“Oh! Don’t worry, I know who he is. Sexy as sin and a four-time world champion rally car racer to boot. So you must be Lynn Madison, you bitch.”
The humongous diamond flashing on the woman’s finger had confirmed Sloan’s suspicions.
Talk of Bastian and the alluring cougar who’d tamed him had run rampant this season. Scores of young sex goddesses mourned their loss. Many had tried for years to snag him or his luscious navigator Mark Rossi, but none had succeeded in tempting either guy into more than a one-night stand.
Until Sebastian fell head over heels in love on first sight last season. Everyone agreed he’d never performed better. Lynn must be good for the man.
What was good for the driver was good for the sport.
And that was good for Sloan.
“It’s true.” Lynn sighed and her eyes took on a faraway look. “I’m the luckiest woman alive.”
“I’m Sloan Desai, by the way.” She held out her hand, but Lynn hugged her instead of shaking it.
“Sorry, but after two minutes I feel like I’ve known you forever. Have a seat.” Lynn gestured with the spine of her novel toward the racetrack, which snaked past the base of the stadium they sat in. “You know, Bastian’s mentioned you before. I think we might’ve even talked on the phone once when you scheduled some of his interviews. You’re the publicist for the league, right?”
“Yep. That’s me.” Sloan winked. “In charge of keeping the boys out of trouble with the media, managing their images and bringing fans in by the truckload.”
“Seems like you’re doing a great job. I heard the first couple days of the exhibition are sold out.”
“They are. Thanks.”
“So how do you like China so far?”
The event would take place in Guangdong province, about a half-hour outside Guangzhou, in a few weeks—a great chance for the teams to tune up or experiment in the off-season. The crews had arrived early to acclimate, which meant Sloan had to be on-site to defuse any…situations…that could cause trouble with the local hosts.
Full of testosterone and daring, the guys in the league sometimes crossed the line.
“I haven’t been able to do much sightseeing. I have to stick fairly close-by.” Sloan shrugged.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Lynn grimaced. “The teams do tend to get rowdy on occasion. Maybe you can take a day trip or two with me. I write travel guides for a living, so I like to check out as much as I can in the areas we visit. Sebastian gets nervous when I’m out on my own though. Especially in locations a little more exotic.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of woman to sit around and wait for a man simply to ease his mind. A woman after my own heart, by the way.”
“You’re right, I’m no shrinking violet.” Lynn grinned. “But I worry that if he’s worried, he’ll be distracted. The sport is dangerous enough as it is. Plus, I miss him if I stray too far.”
“I hope ‘him’ is me.” A deep growl sounded from behind their spot on the bench. Sitting side by side, neither woman had heard the soft soles of Sebastian’s racing sneakers on the concrete as he approached. “Or I’ll have to kick some ass and those days are supposed to be behind me.”
“Old man.”
Sloan swallowed hard at the jibe from the other guy who strode toward them—Mark Rossi. It was either that or moan aloud at his spectacular build. Thick muscles filled out his racing jumpsuit to perfection. She wished she’d seen him going instead of coming so she could check out his killer ass, but the bulge at his crotch and the humor in his warm eyes made for scrumptious consolation prizes.
She’d spied him from across the room at events she’d arranged, but usually she had a job to do while in attendance. Of course she’d found herself staring at promo shots of him on more occasions than she cared to admit, but never before had she been able to take her time and study his legendary features in person—bold cheekbones, olive skin and glossy, sandy hair.
And, shit, now she was staring.
Maybe her imagination played tricks on her, but it seemed as if he might be gawking in return. |
by Jayne Rylon | Dec 31, 2010 | Uncategorized
Well it’s time to start off 2011 right. With free books! It was fun to recap 2010 with you all today. I enjoyed all your comments and I’m looking forward to my first 2011 release in just a few weeks. Morgan’s Surprise (sequel to Kate’s Crew) will be out on 1/25. Woohoo!
Congratulations to the following winners. Please use the contact me page to email me your format preference!
Picture Perfect – Vanessa
Kate’s Crew – Patti
Dream Machine – Desi
Driven – Brandy W
Night is Darkest – Tracey D
Through My Window – Cari Quinn
Shifting Gears – Lisa B
Razor’s Edge – Missy V
Star of Christmas – Rachel R
Thank you for partying today and I hope you all have a fantastic year ahead.
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Dec 31, 2010 | Uncategorized
We made it! My ninth and final release for 2010 was Star of Christmas, which just came out a few days before Christmas. It’s the second episode in the life of Star, a sex worker in Amsterdam. Just tonight I finished Can’t Buy Love, which I hope will be the third volume in the series. This book was another interesting one. It contains some electrophilia. You can check out pictures of some of the equipment featured in the book on the release day post for Star Of Christmas.
Remember to check back at midnight for winners from all of today’s posts. Thanks for ringing in the new year with me!
Available from Ellora’s Cave
Blurb:
Star has seen it all as a sex worker in Amsterdam. She harnesses her intense sexuality to bring her clients satisfaction—or whatever else they desire. When one of her favorites, Rick, makes an unusual proposition, she accepts the rare opportunity.
She finds herself onstage, the lead in a naughty Christmas pageant, indulging in electrophilia where anyone can witness her client-turned-costar give her a present she’ll never forget. The sparks between them grow into something more, forcing them to decide if they’re strong enough to seek more than simple pleasure together.
Excerpt:
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
An Excerpt From: STAR OF CHRISTMAS
Copyright © JAYNE RYLON, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Overture
Through my window, snow is falling. Unique flakes dazzle me as they swarm and crash then disperse, earthbound, in the glow from my red light. Gorgeous and yet a pain in the ass—like so many things in life.
Let me count the ways.
Customers stay indoors to avoid the chill or romp through the rare weather, making for slow nights in Amsterdam’s infamous district. Unless you factor in the men who seek alternative methods to keep toasty and stranded passengers from Schipol taking advantage their airline delays.
Slut shoes plus treacherous icy cobblestones equal a terrifying combination. I’m not the sort of woman who wears rubbers to work—at least not the kind that protect my investment in my Louboutins—only to slip on sumptuous six-inch stilettos at the last instant. My pride rebels. The mystique generated by my stacked heels is part of who I am.
Which is why I cringe when Rick, a frequent customer, fills me in on the news.
“Damn it, Star.” He pants as his orgasm weakens him. My liquefied bones leave me unable to protest as he withdraws his softening cock from my pussy and crashes to the mattress in my booth’s loft. The hint of frustration in his tone has me squinting.
“You’re not satisfied?” A complaint would be a first for me. Not that whores have the equivalent to a corporate comment box system, but my popularity and the abundance of my repeat clients reassure me of my skill.
I sit up, crossing my legs, lifting his head to rest on my thigh as I play with his hair. Dozens of shared sessions with him have taught me I don’t have to hesitate to explore in the aftermath of our pleasure. I figure he craves the interaction. After all, he purchased a full hour tonight when he never requires more than a quarter of that to reach satisfaction in my body, usually dragging me along with him.
Something about his honest craving for me—not just an easy lay—affects me. The chemistry between us makes serving him a pleasure. Sure, he hires other girls in the district from time to time. Then again, I sometimes try a new ice cream flavor before indulging in Rocky Road for my standard Saturday night treat.
“No. I mean, yes. I’m satisfied. More than.”
I massage Rick’s scalp until he rewards me with his content relaxation. Before I can gloat to myself, he shakes his head, caressing me with his thick mane. When he tilts his face to meet my curious stare, his nostrils flare in response to the scent of the arousal he’s inspired.
He laughs. “I can’t think straight when I’m near you. What I meant is, I didn’t come here for this.”
“You didn’t?” What else would he seek from me? I’m providing his essentials.
Rapture.
Friendship.
Intimacy without responsibility.
“Not tonight.” He levers upright, granting me the opportunity to admire his toned torso as he rests his shoulders on the wall beside me.
A far cry from baby’s-butt smooth or steroid-strong. A natural ideal. Nice.
“Star, I have a proposition.”
Question: Did you make a resolution for 2011? What is it?
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Dec 31, 2010 | Uncategorized
So it looks like I miscounted since this is release number eight but there’s still one left! Oopsy. Anyhoo, up next–second to last–is Razor’s Edge (Men in Blue Book #2). This book is loooong and it probably took me as long to write as all the other books of 2010. Seriously. But, in the end I love how it turned out and can’t wait to start writing Mistress’s Master (Men in Blue Book #3) which will be out in September 2011 featuring Jeremy Radisson. Yipee!
Available at Samhain Publishing
Available at Amazon
Available at B&N
Blurb:
There’s a thin line between protection and betrayal…and they’re dancing on it.
Men in Blue, Book 2
Isabella’s marriage to the wealthiest man in the state looked fairytale perfect. Only she knows the truth behind the nightmare forcing her to run with the clothes on her back, the scars on her body and no one to trust. Not even her own father.
When the man hunting her has unlimited resources, hiding in plain sight is a wise choice. Isabella basks in the protection of the limelight as an instructor on a pro-am TV dance competition. Perfect plan, except her ornery partner is packing moves she never learned in any studio.
A rookie mistake in the line of duty earned Razor months of rehab and a healthy distrust of innocent-looking women. Determined to prove to his fellow men in blue his green has worn off, he goes undercover as Isabella’s dance partner to investigate her possible involvement in a sex-slavery ring. But as he attempts to cozy up for information, their instant chemistry challenges his detached composure.
An attempt on her life should have cleared the air. Instead it muddies the waters even more, forcing them both to trust each other. And depend on the one thing Razor thought he’d lost. His instinct.
Warning: This book contains ultra-sexy young cops, who aren’t afraid to show a girl their best moves on and off the dance floor.
Excerpt:
“I quit!”
Chief Leigh chuckled.
“For Christ’s sake! I’m a cop, not some twinkle-toed ballroom dancer.” Razor gawked in horror when his superior officers didn’t flinch. They were dead serious.
“Listen, kid. You don’t have a lot of options these days. Your cover is blown. We can’t use your baby face to bust drug rings in the schools anymore. Not since you’ve been plastered all over the news this last year.”
No one mentioned the reason why. They pitied him too much to talk about how fucking stupid he’d been—how he’d let his dick lead the way straight to hell.
After five months in rehab, thanks to the two bullets he’d caught with his chest and the one that had skimmed his thigh, James “Razor” Reoser had reported back to duty only to find the department planned to farm him out on some feel-good publicity stunt as a hometown hero. Some damned hero. Maybe they didn’t trust him with real police work anymore.
He wouldn’t blame them.
But why were Mason Clark and Tyler Lambert in on this meeting? They’d been at the core of the fiasco that had landed his ass in the hospital for months. Thank God his fuck-ups hadn’t cost them, or their woman, their lives in the end. He never could have survived that.
“They’re screwing with you, Razor.” Ty broke the tension, letting him off the hook. “There’s more here than some bullshit assignment.”
The chief nodded. “If you think you’re up to it…”
“I am.” Razor didn’t need the man to finish.
“I have one last undercover op for you.” His boss retrieved a manila folder from his desk and handed it over. “You’ve heard about Mrs. Isabella Buchanan Carrington leaving her husband?”
“Uh…yeah.” Razor scrubbed his hand through his hair as he tried to recall the society news. Not exactly his usual cuppa. In fact, he fast-forwarded through those stories to reach the local sports scores on his DVR most nights. But the second the captivating woman’s picture had flashed on his screen a few days ago, her interview had fascinated him. Or at least he’d studied her luscious mouth as she recounted her sob story.
Disgust had rolled through his gut when his cock stiffened for the first time AG—after Gina. All for a damsel in distress who’d probably staged the whole drama to leech cash out of the sucker she’d married while she schemed to run away to Mexico with the pool boy.
“She’ll be your partner on the show.”
His stomach cramped.
“Is this some kind of sick test? To see if I can keep my hands to myself?” Razor hated that they might think him incapable of remaining impartial. More, he feared they were right.
“Not exactly.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” he grumbled.
“Let’s say there are advocates in the administration for your early retirement.”
“Fuck! I’m twenty-four, sir. I’ll be the only retired rookie in history.” Just when he thought his destiny couldn’t decay beyond miserable. Now he’d have unemployed to add to crippled and gullible.
“It’s not going to come to that. You need to regain your edge, that’s all.” Mason clapped his giant hand onto Razor’s slighter shoulder. He always felt like a freaking hobbit compared to the hulking man. “You’ve got this. Ty and I will have your back.”
“Tyler, brief him.” The chief monitored the city playing out on the other side of his seventh story window.
“Isabella Buchanan Carrington. Age—twenty-two. Height—five-foot-two. Blond, amazing sky blue eyes, I’m guessing 32C…”
“Ty!” Mason wasn’t in the mood to fuck around.
Razor appreciated his focus. Regaling the movie-star looks of his new mark couldn’t possibly help.
“Yeah, yeah. She comes from money. Lots of money. Married more money. We’ve been after Malcolm Carrington for years, but had no luck proving he’s supplementing his inheritance with dirty deeds. Yet, his tastes run to more expensive shit than he should be able to afford. And, believe me, that’s saying something. He’s been involved in Buchanan business for years. The night Isabella turned eighteen Carrington was spotted wining and dining her at The Summit. Gossip columns billed them the perfect couple despite the fact he’s nearly fifteen years older than her.”
Razor couldn’t imagine that kind of lifestyle. Hell, he’d have to save for the next five years to have an appetizer at the swank restaurant. He supposed extravagance helped when attempting to snag the hottest, richest lady in the state. Hell, maybe the country.
“When she turned nineteen, Carrington proposed in front of a quaint gathering of five hundred guests at Rolling Greens, the country club both he and pops belong to. The platinum couple was engaged for a year and married the day before her twentieth birthday.”
“This guy was on a schedule, huh?” Razor blew out a sigh.
“Seems like it. Didn’t hurt that she was set to inherit some of her mother’s cash either, I bet.” Mason’s disgust for Carrington rang through the room.
“Set to?”
“Seems when her mother died in an accident at their mansion, a clause in her will left her share of the wealth to the daughter. Unless Isabella were to marry into a family better off than hers—hard to conceive of—in which case old man Buchanan could keep the dough to support himself in retirement. Like the bastard needs it.”
“Lambert, that’s enough.” The chief beat them at politics every time. One reason he’d made the grade and they never would—never wanted to.
“What kind of douche takes from his own kid, even if he’s allowed?”
“Move on.”
“So the babe gave it all up for her husband. Who, by the way, was spotted by one of our watchers with another woman in the garden at his own fucking multi-million dollar reception. Paid for courtesy of daddy’s new stash, I’m sure.”
“And she fell for all this bullshit?” Razor could have kicked his own ass when the three other men in the room stared at him without uttering a single word.
When he thought the supercharged atmosphere might spontaneously combust, the chief said, quietly, “Malcolm could be an expert con man. What chance would a sheltered girl have against a shark like him?”
“It looks like she might be wising up now.” Mason added.
“Or she was in on it from the beginning.” Razor scrubbed a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the subtext. “So why do we care? Yeah, maybe they shat on her one time too many and she decided she wants out, maybe demanded her nest egg, but there’s nothing criminal here. Just greed. All of their greed.”
“On the surface, you’re right.” Tyler snatched the briefing. “But lately we’ve been picking up some chatter. The joint Carrington-Buchanan holdings are vast. They’re into lots of legitimate businesses and a few that skirt the line. This time they may have gone too far. Ever hear of Black Lily?”
Razor paused. Should he admit that? In front of his boss and his superior officers? Who already had reason to doubt his judgment when it came to sex? Fuck it. No sense in lying now. “Uh…yeah. I know what it is.”
“Ever been there?” Mason arched an eyebrow.
“Maybe once or twice.”
“Malcolm Carrington is the proud owner of the establishment. On paper. Lots of people say Buchanan has controlling interest but doesn’t want the trail leading in his direction.” Tyler winked at him. “Again, nothing illegal about people enjoying consensual BDSM scenes in a private club. However, we’ve heard rumors of something…darker going on in the reserved rooms.”
“What do you mean? Prostitution?” Razor had heard whispers the last time he’d visited—forbidden offers—but it’d been a while.
“Worse.” Mason spoke through clenched teeth. “They’re allegedly trading sex slaves in the dungeons. Offering test drives, rent-to-own deals and other arrangements I can’t comprehend. One of our moles reported seeing someone resembling Mrs. Carrington on site.”
Razor cursed under his breath. One psychotic woman who thrived on power games was enough for any man’s lifetime. He’d barely survived Gina. They wouldn’t sic another on him, would they?
“We need to know if she’s involved or if she can slip us information. With trouble in paradise, she could help us crack the case, bring Malcolm down.”
“And you think I’m going to be able to figure out the truth? You think I can fucking tell if she’s lying—if she’s up to her perfect tits in trouble or masterminding the plan? We all know I can’t tell jack shit when it comes to the femme fatales of the world.” He hated the panic squeezing his vocal chords until his pitch rose.
“I believe you can.” Tyler looked straight into his eyes as he offered the reassurance Razor never could have asked for but desperately needed. “You won’t get fooled again. We’ll be at every show, watching, helping.”
“You’re on the case. You better get your act together.” The chief didn’t stray from his place at the window. “I won’t be able to overrule the administration again.”
“It’s all about your edge. You have to hone your instincts. Jump back on the horse.” Mason nodded in Razor’s direction. Not a single trace of doubt tinged the more experienced cop’s expression.
Razor didn’t have a choice. He was being pitched into the lion’s den. Again. “There’s just one thing…”
“Yes?” The chief hesitated a moment before answering.
“I don’t do sequins.”
Mason and Tyler’s laughter boomed through the office. The chief pivoted, flashing a hint of a smile. Ten tons lifted from Razor’s shoulders. If he could pull this off maybe things could return to normal.
Question: What’s your favorite dance move?
Jayne
www.jaynerylon.com
by Jayne Rylon | Dec 31, 2010 | Uncategorized
Here it is… my seventh release of the year. Shifting Gears was released on October 29th. This book features one of my favorite heroes of all time. Mark Rossi. You might remember him as the third from Sebastian and Lynn’s menage in Driven. Well, now the three of them are on tour in China.
This book is unique because it’s the first foursome (involving two couples) I’ve ever written. The dynamic was really interesting to explore. It’s an f/m/m/f foursome, in case you were wondering 🙂
The other fun part of writing this book is that I got to use a lot of things I saw on my own trip to China including Guangzhou, Hong Kong and Cheung Chau. I posted a bunch of picture of things in the story if you’re interested. You can find the post on the blog from Shifting Gears release day.
Available at Ellora’s Cave
Available at Amazon
Available at B&N
Available at ARe (60% off sale going on right now for all EC titles!)
Blurb:
A standalone book in the Cougar Challenge series, this book picks up the story of Mark Rossi (introduced in Driven). Books in the Cougar Challenge series do not have to be read in order to be enjoyed.
Mark envies his friend Sebastian and the Cougar who tamed him. For years he’s had his eye on a sexy, older, married woman. Despite his and Bastian’s sexual adventures, he refuses to poach outside his steamy fantasies.
Sloan travels with the race car drivers as the league’s publicist. Living abroad can be lonely, especially when touring somewhere like China—where beautiful landscapes surround them but language and cultural barriers are high. Until she meets Lynn, who shares her love of erotic romances. In Lynn, she gains more than a friend because sexy-as-sin navigator Mark is never far from the Cougar and her fiancé, making Sloan wonder if it’s time rejoin the dating scene after a nasty divorce.
When Lynn notices the chemistry between Mark and Sloan, she issues the Cougar Challenge. Sloan never imagined she might grant her younger lover the strength to explore the sexual tension that has been building between him and his friend since their Cougars entered their lives.
Four friends, two couples, one night none of them will forget.
Reader Advisory: Novel contains a f/m/m/f ménage.
Excerpt:
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
|
An Excerpt From: SHIFTING GEARS
Copyright © JAYNE RYLON, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
“Oh my God!”
The woman on the corrugated aluminum bleacher several rows in front of Sloan turned with wide eyes when Sloan shouted. She caught Sloan’s stare on the sexy cover of her erotic romance novel and flipped it closed—cover side down—discretely.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Sloan smiled. “I know how it is when you’re lost in a good book. And that book is fan-fucking-tastic! I love Mari Carr. Her stories are smoking hot. Especially the ménages. Yum.”
The woman grinned and nodded. “I’ve read almost all of hers. My reading group back in the US mailed me this one. It arrived last night and I’m halfway done already. I tried to ration it out—a chapter a day—but it’s impossible.”
“Thank God for ebook readers, huh? I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have access to all the new releases from this side of the globe.” Sloan stepped into the stands then picked her way down the incline, closer to the woman, careful not to slip in her three-inch heels.
At least she’d worn jeans to the race site today instead of her usual skirted suit. “I hear that. It can get lonely being a foreigner in a country where you don’t speak the language. Especially one as difficult to pick up as Mandarin or Cantonese. Reading keeps me from getting too homesick, though it leads to other…complications.”
When the woman laughed, her entire face brightened. Around Sloan’s age, close to forty, she seemed carefree and infectiously happy. “I know what you mean. Or at least I used to. Now I have a young stud to keep me occupied when I get revved up. I’m engaged to Sebastian Fiori. The driver for—”
“Oh! Don’t worry, I know who he is. Sexy as sin and a four-time world champion rally car racer to boot. So you must be Lynn Madison, you bitch.”
The humongous diamond flashing on the woman’s finger had confirmed Sloan’s suspicions.
Talk of Bastian and the alluring cougar who’d tamed him had run rampant this season. Scores of young sex goddesses mourned their loss. Many had tried for years to snag him or his luscious navigator Mark Rossi, but none had succeeded in tempting either guy into more than a one-night stand.
Until Sebastian fell head over heels in love on first sight last season. Everyone agreed he’d never performed better. Lynn must be good for the man.
What was good for the driver was good for the sport.
And that was good for Sloan.
“It’s true.” Lynn sighed and her eyes took on a faraway look. “I’m the luckiest woman alive.”
“I’m Sloan Desai, by the way.” She held out her hand, but Lynn hugged her instead of shaking it.
“Sorry, but after two minutes I feel like I’ve known you forever. Have a seat.” Lynn gestured with the spine of her novel toward the racetrack, which snaked past the base of the stadium they sat in. “You know, Bastian’s mentioned you before. I think we might’ve even talked on the phone once when you scheduled some of his interviews. You’re the publicist for the league, right?”
“Yep. That’s me.” Sloan winked. “In charge of keeping the boys out of trouble with the media, managing their images and bringing fans in by the truckload.”
“Seems like you’re doing a great job. I heard the first couple days of the exhibition are sold out.”
“They are. Thanks.”
“So how do you like China so far?”
The event would take place in Guangdong province, about a half-hour outside Guangzhou, in a few weeks—a great chance for the teams to tune up or experiment in the off-season. The crews had arrived early to acclimate, which meant Sloan had to be on-site to defuse any…situations…that could cause trouble with the local hosts.
Full of testosterone and daring, the guys in the league sometimes crossed the line.
“I haven’t been able to do much sightseeing. I have to stick fairly close-by.” Sloan shrugged.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Lynn grimaced. “The teams do tend to get rowdy on occasion. Maybe you can take a day trip or two with me. I write travel guides for a living, so I like to check out as much as I can in the areas we visit. Sebastian gets nervous when I’m out on my own though. Especially in locations a little more exotic.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of woman to sit around and wait for a man simply to ease his mind. A woman after my own heart, by the way.”
“You’re right, I’m no shrinking violet.” Lynn grinned. “But I worry that if he’s worried, he’ll be distracted. The sport is dangerous enough as it is. Plus, I miss him if I stray too far.”
“I hope ‘him’ is me.” A deep growl sounded from behind their spot on the bench. Sitting side by side, neither woman had heard the soft soles of Sebastian’s racing sneakers on the concrete as he approached. “Or I’ll have to kick some ass and those days are supposed to be behind me.”
“Old man.”
Sloan swallowed hard at the jibe from the other guy who strode toward them—Mark Rossi. It was either that or moan aloud at his spectacular build. Thick muscles filled out his racing jumpsuit to perfection. She wished she’d seen him going instead of coming so she could check out his killer ass, but the bulge at his crotch and the humor in his warm eyes made for scrumptious consolation prizes.
She’d spied him from across the room at events she’d arranged, but usually she had a job to do while in attendance. Of course she’d found herself staring at promo shots of him on more occasions than she cared to admit, but never before had she been able to take her time and study his legendary features in person—bold cheekbones, olive skin and glossy, sandy hair.
And, shit, now she was staring.
Maybe her imagination played tricks on her, but it seemed as if he might be gawking in return. |
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Question: I love to travel and use lots of the destinations I’ve been to in my books. What’s your favorite place you’ve traveled to?
by Jayne Rylon | Dec 31, 2010 | Uncategorized
My sixth release of the year might be my favorite. Through My Window came out on September 30th and features Star, a sex worker in Amsterdam. The inspiration for this story came from my trip there last year when I toured the red light district with my husband. (No we did not make any purchases, thank you.) Still, the windows fascinated me and so I wrote this book. A previous blog has a bunch of pictures from the city if you’re interested. The second book in Star’s ongoing saga just came out in December. It’s called Star of Christmas but we’ll chat more about that closer to midnight! I also just typed THE END on Can’t Buy Love. Here’s hoping my editor likes what would be the third installment in this series.
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Blurb:
“Through my window, a sea of strangers swirl and retreat like waves in an ocean of humanity. I brush my hair, fix my makeup and flip on the glaring red light in my booth before turning to face my audience on the other side of the glass.”
For Star, this is another night on the job, though no two are ever alike. Adaptable and perceptive, she becomes many things in the course of one evening—whore, lover, nurse, psychologist and friend. But above all, she’s still a woman. Join her, through her window.
Excerpt:
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
An Excerpt From: THROUGH MY WINDOW
Copyright © JAYNE RYLON, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Dusk
Through my window, a sea of strangers swirl and retreat like waves in an ocean of humanity. I brush my hair, fix my makeup and flip on the glaring red light in my booth before turning to face them on the other side of the glass.
They begin each evening like still waters. Ebbing and flowing past my window. Unaffected by buffeting winds or brewing desires. Eddying in swirls as they gather, peek around our infamous district with downcast eyes then scatter—awkward and unsure yet inquisitive.
Curious couples setting out on tandem adventures, young men high on the moral freedom of Amsterdam and clusters of women indulging in a wild night with friends all dip their toes in the pool.
Later, much later, they will roil and crash against the glass in a typhoon of wanton excess—of food, drink, drugs and sex—that never ceases to amaze me.
Or to infect me with its primal power.
Most women shoot me glances of pity if they look at me at all. I feel sorry for them, that they don’t understand. But some…some grin and nod.
Appreciation.
Respect.
Envy.
A select few go further, seeking my services so they can share in the rush for a brief time.
Men are more likely to notice my sincere yearning to please right away. All manner of them from young to old, rich to poor, thin to fat and virile to impotent appraise me with hungry eyes.
Cynics might say my killer curves, mile-high stilettos or long mane of platinum hair are responsible for their focused attention. I don’t buy that. I’m not the most attractive working girl on the block. But I’m one of the busiest.
Customers can sense I’m different than most. They recognize I’m here not because I have to be but because I want to be. I absorb their stares before returning some of my own. The authority they grant me is intoxicating and addicting.
I love enticing a kindred spirit to my lair for both our enjoyment and my profit.
The hot, red lights of my booth, along the canal slicing through the heart of De Wallen, glint off my silver-sequined costume. What little of it there is anyway. The warm air in the space caresses my bared skin each time my neighbors let someone in or show them out.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
Theirs. And mine. Ours.
Question: Do you enjoy books written in first person (from the main character’s POV)?
