What turns you on or off?

Today’s Thursday 13 is a list of what turns me on or off and I’d love for you to share on the blog and also come out tonight to share your thoughts and find out more about human sexuality when I host the wonderful Dr. Charley Ferrer.

Dr. Charley is an award-winning Clinical Sexologist and Life Coach who helps individuals and couples reclaim their divine sexuality. Dr. Charley conducts workshops on sexual health, women’s empowerment, men, sex and relationships and I am honored to have her with me tonight at 10 PM EST for a discussion on sex, erotica, erotica romance and what turns you on or off!

You can click on this widget or cut and paste this link to join the video chat tonight: http://t.wbx.me/f8qgs

Also, drop by Sonya Clark today for an interview with yours truly and a giveaway!

So here goes for my 13 turn on/offs:

1. ON: Shoulder Length hair
2. OFF: Frizzy long hair
3. ON: Young men (think Chris Evans)
4. ON: Older elegant men (think Christopher Plummer)
5. OFF: Violence toward women
6. ON: Playful/Intense Sparring a la Diana and Ryder in DARKNESS CALLS
7. ON: Lean muscles and those little V things on guy’s hips
8. OFF: Too much muscle
9. ON: Some bald men (think Patrick Stewart)
10. OFF: Vampires that glitter
11. ON: Spike
12. ON: Playful bondage
13. OFF: Submission

Share your turn on/off now and tonight during our stimulating chat with Dr. Charley!

To visit other Thursday-13 participants, please click here!

Wicked Wednesday with Stephanie Draven

Welcome to today’s wet, but still decidedly Wicked Wednesday! I have with me today my friend and fellow author Stephanie Draven. Stephanie and I got to meet at an RT a few years back and it was so nice to get to know here. Before we kick off with Stephanie, though, just a reminder that the guest blogs and giveaways continue today! Please take a moment to stop at The Qwillery for a chance to win some goodies.

But now for a little bit about Stephanie who is currently a denizen of Baltimore, that city of ravens and purple night skies. She lives there with her favorite nocturnal creatures–three scheming cats and a deliciously wicked husband. And when she is not busy with dark domestic rituals, she writes her books.

Books like DARK SINS AND DESERT SANDS, her latest release for Harlequin Nocturne! Here’s a little teaser for you.

Wrongfully accused and broken by torture, an American soldier transforms into a mind-controlling minotaur bent on revenge…

Escaping a hellish Syrian prison, U.S. serviceman Ray Stavrakis emerges with uncanny powers and an eerie ability to morph into a mythical Minotaur, half-man, half-bull. Only one woman can prove his innocence and soothe the savage beast inside–the same woman who’d driven him to the brink of insanity with her cool-eyed interrogation and her hot-blooded sensuality.

But Vegas psychologist Layla Bahset has no memory of Ray or her past. Only a feeling of being stalked by a nonhuman predator. Is it Ray…whose eyes condemn her soul even as his hands ignite her body? Or is another evil force hunting her down like prey?

Now nothing can stop Layla from remembering what she really is…and what her evil creator has planned for her and her soldier lover…

Without further ado, here’s a little more from Stephanie.

My Big Fat Greek Monster Romance
by Stephanie Draven

I’m a sucker for Greek mythology. Who doesn’t love all those dysfunctional deities and dangerous demi-gods? The ancient Greeks knew a thing or two about human nature, and most of the things that we fear–or get turned on by–are covered in their stories. So why not twist the legends into a romance?

That’s just what I’ve done with my Mythica series for HQN Nocturne, each of which is a stand-alone book set in a shared world, all centered around the following premise:

What if the monsters of ancient mythology still walked the earth…and what if you found out that you were one of them?

Dark Sins & Desert Sands is the most daring book of the series and I was delighted that one reviewer already pointed out the super-hot subway sex scene. I’m eager to find out how readers are going to react to a hero who can control the heroine with nothing but his mind. He’s a modern day minotaur with the power to see deeply into her thoughts and to trap her in the labyrinth of her own memories. He’s a man bent on vengeance who unexpectedly finds love along the way and I hope you’ll enjoy the following excerpt:

Ray slammed his hand against the bedside table. “I was innocent, damn you!”

Her accusation obviously infuriated him, instantly and powerfully. He looked like he could tear the whole room apart, like he could kill her, but when he reached for her, he just took her face in his hands. “Layla, you need to listen to me. I didn’t do anything but risk my life for my country. Someone told you otherwise, and I need to know who. What was the evidence against me?”

“I don’t know,” Layla said. “I don’t remember.”

Fury burned higher and hotter in his eyes. “I need you to remember. I’ll make you remember.”

In her half-naked humiliation, she felt angry and defiant. “Oh? How are you going to manage that?”

“I have an idea or two,” he said with a dark laugh. “Every time I get your pulse racing, you seem to remember something else. The first time I touched you, you whispered my name. I kissed you, and you remembered your ex. I bent you over a sink, and now you remember questioning me. What happens if I throw you down on this bed and give you what you really need?”

“Don’t,” she said, putting her hand on his chest.

He grabbed it and twisted it just to the edge of pain. “You know I can do it. In fact, you want me to do it. All that crap you said in there about how you looked like a slut, that’s just an excuse. You’re just scared, and maybe you should be, because let me tell you something, I’ve done worse things to unlock people’s memories than get them off.”

The coarseness of his language seemed to physically scrape her skin. All the bravado went out of her, and she was left only with her vulnerability. “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I’m not like this. I’m not this person who…who…has sex in a stranger’s motel room.”

“We’re not strangers,” Ray said. “And it’s pretty clear to me you don’t know who the hell you really are. You think you’re some demure little rabbit, but do you want to know what I saw inside your mind?”

Layla inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I saw a lioness.”

“A lioness?” It sounded wrong in every way. She wasn’t anything like a lioness. Layla was wary and restrained, not wild and free. She was a creature of order and logic, not instinct. It’s true that when she’d defended herself in the stairwell she’d felt like a fierce predator, but she hadn’t known that part of herself. She also didn’t know the part of herself that wanted this man. She was a stranger to the part of herself that quivered and ached for him.

“Then make me remember, if you think you can,” she said. “Do it.”

Thank you, Stephanie for dropping by! I love mythology and am really looking forward to reading this one. What about you guys? Are there any myths that you especially love? Persephone? Diana (you know I love that one!). Narcissus? Share any that you would like to see incorporated into a story.

Thursday 13 – Breaking up is hard to do…

The blog tour continues! Don’t forget to visit The Jeep Diva today to find out what she has to say about THE LOST and for a chance to win a LOST T-shirt or copy of my upcoming e-book, ROOKIE OF THE YEAR.

Also, tonight I have Anjanette Delgado with me for a live video event and we’ll be talking about break-ups, fixes for broken hearts and her latest release, THE HEARTBREAK PILL which explores what happens when one woman seems to find a cure for her break-up pain.

So for today’s Thursday 13, I’ve got a list of things you do when you break up!

1. Sing out loud to Gloria Gaynor’s I WILL SURVIVE
2. Get chip-faced like Sandra Bullock in MISS CONGENIALITY
3. Move to Tuscany and start a new life
4. Cry. A lot.
5. Go to the gym and beat the crap out of the boxing bag.
6. Eat chocolate.
7. Drink wine.
8. Find a new guy and hope he isn’t just a rebound guy.
9. Go out with friends and cry some more, drink some more wine.
10. Read a good romance.
11. Watch DIRTY DANCING six or seven times a day (like THE NEW GIRL)
12. Cry some more.
13. Get over it and move on.

Share your break-up remedies by leaving a comment here on the blog or even better, join Anjanette and me tonight as we talk about heartbreak and some remedies!

To visit other Thursday 13 participants, you can click here.

To watch the live video event tonight, you can cut and paste this link into the browser
http://t.wbx.me/f8qgs or click on this widget:

Wicked Wednesday – Aimee and David Thurlo Visit!

We are so lucky to have with us today Aimee and David Thurlo who together write the fabulous Ella Clah series. The latest release in the series is BLACK THUNDER which Publishers Weekly called “an insightful portrait of a native culture still evolving between tradition and modernity.”

In BLACK THUNDER, the plot line focuses on crimes that could be the work of a serial killer. The story also showcases the difficulty of walking the line between traditional values handed down for generations and the pressures to adapt to an ever-changing modern world.

The book is filled with action and shows a side of Ella that readers have yet to see and I hope you will enjoy this excerpt!

“Let the officer take him, boss,” Justine said, leaning her head out of the SUV. “We’ve got another call.”

“What’s happening, partner?” Ella asked, climbing into the vehicle.

Justine turned the SUV around, then spoke as they drove toward the highway. “A Navajo crew was replacing fenceposts on the Navajo Nation side of the border, just the other side of Hogback, when they found a body.”

“On tribal land – they’re sure of that?” Ella reached for a tissue from the glove box, then wiped away the perspiration from her brow with one hand and redirected the air conditioning vent toward her face and neck.

“Yeah, from what I was told. They called 911 and dispatch called us immediately.”

There was no direct route to the site. When they passed through the wide, river-cut gap in the Hogback, the long, steep sided outcrop towering above the desert for miles, Justine had to continue east off the Rez. Their intended route required them to circle back to the northwest along the old highway, which came much closer to the spine-like ridge.

There was a dirt track that ran along the north-south fence line through an old field and former marsh, and the ride was extra rough. Trees and brush dotted the area, thickly in some places, and it took a while to spot the tribal truck, which was in a low spot. The tailgate of the oversized pickup was down and the bed filled with coils of wire and fence posts.

“Where’s the crew?” Ella asked, looking around.

“Way over there,” Justine said, gesturing with her chin, Navajo style, toward a shady spot beneath an old cottonwood at least a hundred feet northwest of the pickup.

Ella wasn’t surprised. As a detective on the Navajo Rez, she usually didn’t have to worry that a murder scene would be contaminated by the Navajo public. Whether they were Traditionalists, New Traditionalists, or Modernists, fear of the chindi was a fact of life here.

The chindi, the evil in a man, was said to remain earthbound waiting for a chance to create problems for the living. Contact with the dead, or their possessions, was a sure way to summon it to you, so avoidance was the usual strategy.

The foreman, a short, muscular Navajo in jeans and a pale blue tribal issue shirt, came to meet them as they parked and stepped out of the SUV. His yellow straw cowboy hat was stained with dust and sweat. It was getting hot already here in northwest New Mexico. “We called you as soon as we realized what we were digging up. You can see what’s left of a human hand down there. It’s over by that spot where we were taking out some fill dirt.”

“Thanks. We’ll handle it from here,” Ella said.

Justine joined Ella and they approached the location he’d pointed out. A shovel had been left beside the area where sand had been scooped out, probably to fill around a newly planted fence post about ten feet away. The original ground had been eroded by heavy rain and the old post still lay nearby, the wood badly rotted away.

Ella and Justine moved carefully, stepping only in the fresh shoe and boot prints left by the work crew and making sure no other potential evidence was disturbed.

“Our crime scene team is on the way,” Justine said, looking down at the dark, leathery looking, dried out remnants of what was clearly a human’s right hand. “Benny’s driving the van. Ralph Tache wants in on this too. He said he can’t dig – doctor’s orders – but he can collect evidence and document the scene.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ella said, giving Justine a look of concern. “I’m not sure Ralph’s ready. This could be labor intensive, and we’ll have to do it all by hand. We can’t bring in a backhoe, and all that bending over…”

“Ralph’s had a lot to deal with after all those surgeries. That pipe bomb incident at the college did more than just put him in the hospital. But he’s spent months in rehab, and needs to get back to work, Ella. His doctor’s given permission for him to resume field duty, and the chief agreed. Let him have this assignment. He’s not cut out for a desk job, and we need our best personnel on this.”

Ella nodded. Although Ralph had already made it clear he wasn’t ready to take up his bomb squad work again, he wanted to get out of the station and take part in field work.

“After all those months of recovery and therapy, I thought for a while he’d just take an early retirement and go on to consulting work,” Ella said. “He was a veteran cop when I joined the department.”

“I think police work’s in his blood, Ella, and he needs to reconnect.” Justine glanced down at the missing joint on her index finger, recalling the brutality of her kidnappers years ago. “We all pay a price for what we do, but police work’s a calling. That’s why we’re drawn to it so much.”

Ella said nothing. Justine was a devout Christian and her religious beliefs shaped her views. Yet no matter how Justine defined it, she lived and breathed the job too. It was that dedication to the tribe and the department that made all of them overlook the downside – like the crappy pay and long hours.

“I’ll start with photos,” Justine said. “I want shots of the tire tracks on the dirt trail leading in. I saw two distinct, fresh sets as we were coming in, and there’s only one tribal vehicle here.”

“Good eye. I’ll get statements from the crew,” Ella said.

As she walked over to the men clustered in the shade of the cottonwood, Ella understood the wariness in their eyes. She spoke to the foreman first and he pointed out the two men who’d found the body. One of them, a stocky Navajo in his early twenties wearing a turquoise and black Shiprock High School Chieftains t-shirt and worn jeans, stood fingering the leather pouch at his waist.

Recognizing the medicine bag for what it was, an essential personal item for Traditionalists, Ella decided to speak to him first.

She introduced herself without using names. Traditionalists believed that a name had power. To use it needlessly deprived their owner of a personal asset that was his or hers to use in times of trouble. Asking to see his driver’s license, she took the necessary information off that.

“I got too close to that body,” he said, explaining that he was the first to uncover the still attached hand, and that the shovel left at the location was his. “I’m going to have a Sing done. Your brother’s the hataalii who lives the other side of Shiprock, off the Gallup highway, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Ella answered, not surprised he’d made the connection. Despite the vastness of the Navajo Nation, theirs was a small community, and she’d been part of the tribal police department in this area for nearly fifteen years.

“I came ready for work, but this….” He shook his head, then kicked at a clump of dry grass with the toe of his worn lace-up work boot.

“Why did you happen to dig at that particular spot,” Ella said.

“I needed fill dirt so I picked a spot where there wasn’t much brush. It was pretty loose and easy to scoop out, so I dug deeper. Then the shovel snagged on something that looked like a leather glove.” He swallowed hard. “I reached down to pull it out when I saw that it was a hand – still attached to an arm. I backed off, fast.” He avoided eye contact with Ella out of respect for Navajo ways. “Do you think the whole body is down there?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“We’ll know in a bit.”

“Do we have to stay around while you…dig it up?”

“Not for that long. I’ll need to take statements from everyone and make sure I know where to find each of you in case we need to talk again. Once that’s done, you’ll all be free to leave.”

“Good. I don’t want to stick around.”

Ella couldn’t help but notice that the entire crew seemed anxious to leave, even those who appeared to be Modernists – based upon their curiosity, their more relaxed expressions, and the absence of medicine pouches at their belt or in hand.

Going about her business, she spoke to the other men, but nothing new came to light. Nobody seemed to know anything about the extra set of vehicle tracks. The foreman also made it clear that he didn’t think any other tribal employees had visited the site before them. Their job here today had been part of regular maintenance and scheduled months ago.

Shortly after the crew left, her team arrived. Ella watched Ralph Tache climb out of the van. Though he still moved slowly despite having lost at least thirty pounds in the last year, determination was etched in his deep set eyes.

She knew that look. The need to restore order so all could walk in beauty was more than just a concept. It was the way of life on the Diné Bikéyah, Navajo country.

The crime scene team quickly cordoned off the area, using the boundary fence as the eastern perimeter. They each had specialized jobs, but no one would touch the ground around the hand until every square inch had been photographed from all possible angles.

While Ralph helped Justine take photos, Sergeant Joe Neskahi brought out two shovels and stood them against the van for future use.

Soon afterwards, Benny Pete and Joe surveyed the ground outside the yellow tape, looking for tracks, trash, or anything out of the ordinary. If the scene needed to be expanded, they would be the first to make that determination.

Joe was a long time member of the team, but Benny, their newest member, had fit in almost instantly. He’d come to them as a temporary transfer, then had opted to remain with their team. They’d all welcomed him after seeing his skills, particularly when it came to spotting even minute details.

“What’s the M.E.’s ETA?” Ella called out to Justine.

“Ten minutes,” Justine called back, not looking up from her work.

Looking over at Ralph, Ella saw him taking a photo of something off in the direction of the highway. “What’d you see, Ralph?” she asked, walking over.

He shrugged. “Someone was over there, standing by a white sedan, watching us through binoculars. I saw his reflection off the glass and it caught my eye. It was probably just a curious motorist, but you know what they say in Crime Scene 101.”

“Yeah, sometimes perps hang around to watch the police work the scene – might even volunteer to help,” Ella said.

“I’ll also be taking shots of every car that stops to check us out. You never know,” he said.

“Sure would be nice to get lucky,” Ella said, “investigation wise,” she added quickly, seeing Ralph’s eyebrows rise.

Hearing someone clear their throat directly behind her, Ella spun around. “You don’t make a lot of noise when you walk, do you?” she said, glaring at Benny.

“Sorry about that, boss,” he said. “We looked around for footprints connected to that extra set of tire tracks, but there isn’t anything fresh. The driver must not have exited the vehicle. We did find something interesting – another set of fresh prints that clearly belong to a child. They’re along the fence line and elsewhere, but not close enough to the tire impressions for the child to have been the driver or a passenger.”

“So the only adult prints belong to the work crew?”

“That’s right,” Benny said.

“The next thing we’ll need to do is check on kids who live in this area. Anything else?” Ella asked him.

“So far we’ve found the usual windblown debris of candy and food wrappers, paper cups, and the kind of stuff we’d find alongside the highway. But something struck me as particularly odd.”

“What is it?” she pressed.

“I’d rather show you,” he said.

“Lead the way.” This was going to be one of those cases where nothing fit the norm. She could feel it in her gut.

Thank you much so much Aimée and David for coming by today! I’m also so excited to hear that you’ll be bringing us a new romantic suspense in November – WINTER HAWK’S LEGEND.

Romantic Times gave WINTER HAWK’S LEGEND four and a half stars, which is truly an honor! In this exciting romantic suspense, Holly Gates must hide out with Daniel Hawk, a fearless security expert sworn to protect her. She finds herself falling in love with him though, unlike her, he craves no home or family – just the same freedom as the great hawk.

I can’t wait to read it! For all those you are visiting today, I’m offering up a copy of my e-book ROOKIE OF THE YEAR if you leave a comment and/or tweet this:

Visit with Aimée and David Thurlo 2day #giveaway #romance #suspense @ https://www.caridad.com/blog.

Thank you all for dropping by today!

The Last Rising by Rachel Firasek

I’m very pleased to have with me today my friend and fellow author Rachel Firasek. Rachel has a new paranormal romance with a twist on Egyptian mythology, THE LAST RISING. Rachel is here to tell us a little more about her story and the inspiration about it. So without further ado, here’s Rachel!

Every story has a tone or a mood. Your setting creates the backdrop for your characters to tell their story, but does your novel have a color? To date, every book I have has a color. That may be the artistic part of my brain running crazy, but I see in colors. They are so much more interesting than the black and white print on the page.

We are taught at a very early age that colors are tied to emotions. Red=anger, blue=calm, yellow=cowardous, green=envy and so on and so forth. I can’t remember if one person taught me all of this or if it was a collaboration of teachers, parents and, later in life, my own interpretations.

So, it wasn’t until my most fabulous friend and fellow author, Autumn Shelly, showed me these pretty little salt lamps that change colors. These lamps reminded me of my art background, how much color means to me. I bought one, it runs on my USB port and sits on the edge of my laptop. When I sit down to start a new story, I think of the theme. Then I think of the emotions for my heroine/hero. Then I pick a color. That color will be the mood for my book.

The Last Rising, my latest release, is purple & red. There’s anger and passion on every page in some way or another.

Heather Howland did a great job creating my cover to match the mood of this book.

I’m writing the second book in this series and it has a very distinct/different color. Green is my mood for this second book and I’ll bet you can only guess why. Green not only portrays envy or jealousy, but it’s also the color of nature. Its a grounding color. My heroine is definitely in book two is an earth. I adore her. And yes, Heather Howland again created a beautiful masterpiece to bring my story to life.

Now, I dare you to study your the story you are reading and find the color in the mood. It’s there, in every page and in every book, you’ll find it. If your not reading right now, then think about this on your next read. Take those black and white pages and thrust them into full Techno-color. You’ll be amazed at how much more you get from the story.

Drop me a note and let me know your color. Everyone has one. I’m totally a red. I’ll let you guess why….

A little teaser for THE LAST RISING

After paying two millennia’s penance to Osiris, world-weary Phoenix Ice has had enough. Saving souls without any hope for her own redemption isn’t how she imagined spending eternity. Fed up, she decides her next death will be her last. But when she sacrifices her own life for a sexy Texan in a catastrophic plane crash, she has no idea the consequences will be so great…or that she’ll end up back in his life for her next assignment.

Now that Turner Alcott has survived the worst, finding a wife and mother for his son matters more than ever before. When the mysterious Ice comes into his life, Turner knows she’s the one—but love is the last thing Ice wants. If he wants to win her heart, Turner must teach Ice how to forgive herself, and prove that love is the ultimate sacrifice.

Excerpt

“Why is it I can’t get you out of my mind? You say we haven’t met, but my dreams remember you.”

Oh yeah, he’d dreamt of a woman for months now. She resembled his dream woman in so many ways, but he’d never seen his fantasy lover’s face.

She struggled against his clutch. “Mr. Alcott, I assure you we haven’t met. And for your other question, I don’t know why, but you need to release me.”

Why did that quivering bottom lip make him suspect she was lying? Turner rested his forehead against the top of hers and sucked in her scent. “Please, tell me I’m not losing my mind. Tell me you don’t visit me every night and I’ll promise to leave you alone. I just need to know.”

He sounded like a crazy man but she had to tell him. She was the only one who could put a stop to his mind’s constant fantasizing, and this feeling of déjà vu every time he saw her.

Ice wriggled in his arms, her thighs chafing against his slacks. “Mr. Alcott, you need to let me go.” She glanced around his shoulder. “Brodie is probably staring out that glass window and I would hate for him to get the wrong impression.”

She was right. He needed to get ahold of himself, but he didn’t have the strength to walk away. His hands traveled up and over her shoulders, stalling on her neck. Brushing his thumbs against her jaw, he pressed her head back and stared into hard eyes—no emotion. Couldn’t she see the battle he fought?

He teased the corner of her mouth with his thumb and her breathy gasp pleased him. So, she wasn’t completely immune to him. He dropped his head until his mouth hovered over hers.

“Mr. Alcott—”

“Shhh. I just need a taste of the sunshine.”

Wicked Wednesday – THE FIFTH KINGDOM

I’m so excited to be sharing with you THE FIFTH KINGDOM today, my romantic suspense from Carina Press. RT Book Reviews gave it 4.5 stars and said:

“This story is an Indiana Jones-style thrill ride infused with just the right amount of romance and sexual tension…The mystery, the family dynamic and the love story all blend together perfectly in this delightful adventure. Who needs Harrison Ford when you’ve got a tale like this?”

If you cannot see the excerpt below, you can click here or use this link:

http://www.scribd.com/fullscreen/63643722?access_key=key-1eyc5etyz7or3srynbqj

THE FIFTH KINGDOM Romantic Suspense