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K D Grace on Tour ~ Elemental Fire

We’re thrilled to welcome K D Grace back with us, on tour for the final book in her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy. She’s got the scoop on how this all got started – very exciting – plus, there’s a great giveaway at the end!

Thank you so much for having me back on your fabulous site, Adriana. It’s always a pleasure to be here. And I’m especially happy to be here on the first day of my blog tour of the final instalment of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy – Elemental Fire.

Since this is day one of the Elemental Fire blog tour, I thought I’d talk about endings at the beginning and things hidden in plain sight. It’s very difficult to come to the end of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy without thinking about how it all began with me and my husband caught in a sudden heavy mist on the Newlands Horseshoe Ridge Walk in the English Lake District. When, a few months later, I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for the first time, it was this experience that inspired the first incarnation of the trilogy, which didn’t start out as a trilogy, BTW, but only one novel called Love Spells, and even that was an experiment, my first attempt at an erotic romance novel.

When the first of November rolled around, my friend, Helen, and I made a ‘writing pilgrimage’ to kick off NaNoWriMo properly in Avebury. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Avebury, it’s the largest stone circle in Europe, much larger than Stonehenge, so big, in fact, that it has a whole village built in the middle of it. As it happened, that first day of NaNoWriMo, the weather would have had to work hard to be worse. It was pouring down rain with a cold wind blowing. It wasn’t just the first day of NaNoWriMo, but it was also the pagan holiday of Samhain. As we settled into the Red Lion Inn – a pub and inn built in the early 1600s with the reputation of being one of the most haunted places in England, we both began our writing projects with a steady flow of very wet pagans in their gorgeous, slightly soggy regalia coming in to warm up, eat, have a pint, and head back out into the stone circle for their rituals and celebrations.

As the afternoon wore on, I wrote the opening scenes of what I didn’t know at the time would become the Lakeland Heatwave trilogy. By then we were alone in one of the dining areas, when a very cold wind blew through the closed room slamming doors, rattling windows, and we overheard a white-faced, rather shaken server inform the kitchen staff that it had to have been ‘the ghost.’ Well, you can see where the inspiration for ghosts and witches and demons came from.

All through the month of November, I wrote hard, drawing on my memories of long walks in the Lake District and of my several years as a member of a Wiccan coven to pull the story together. When at last it was finished, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, so it languished hidden among my files for another year. In the meantime, I wrote the Initiation of Ms Holly and The Pet Shop, both of which Xcite Books published. It was then that my wild NaNoWriMo experiment drew my attention again.

I could begin to see how I might rewrite the novel to make it stronger, so I proposed it to Xcite, and they accepted my proposal. It was only as I began the rewrite that I realised something wasn’t right. I couldn’t quite make Love Spells come together as I’d hoped. I was missing something. I just couldn’t figure what. After several long walks in the British countryside angsting and stressing, fearing I wouldn’t be able to fulfil my commitment, it came to me. The reason I couldn’t write Love Spells was that it was too big a story for one novel, and the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy was born. I proposed it to Xcite, who loved the idea. Over the past eighteen months the lives and times and sexy, scary adventures of the Elemental Coven have unfolded in first, Body Temperature and Rising, then Riding the Ether, and now, the final instalment, Elemental Fire, is finished and out in the world. It’s been a wild, exciting journey, and as happy as I am to have the whole trilogy done, I’m also feeling a bit sad to say good-bye to Tara Stone, Anderson, and the whole Elemental Coven. Who knows, maybe they’ll let me come back to visit. I’d like that.

Excerpt

‘Will you dream with him?’ Cassandra asked, as she handed Tara the last pot.

‘I don’t see that I have much choice, do I?’

‘Is it really that much of a hardship?’

They both turned to find Kennet standing in the door of the greenhouse.

Tara laid aside her dibber and gently touched Cassandra’s hand feeling the welcome buzz of her power. ‘Go and tell the others to prepare the Dream Cave.’

Once she was gone, she turned her attention back to her seedlings.

Kennet moved inside and pulled the door to. ‘I understand you not trusting me,’ he said. ‘I’d feel the same way, I’m sure. But Tara, I’m not the enemy. I need you to believe that.’ He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened.

Carefully he removed it and turned his attention to stroking the leaves of the thyme plants. ‘You’re afraid,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

‘Aren’t you?’ She continued to fuss over the seedlings, mostly just to stave off the panic of his nearness.

‘Terrified.’ His answer surprised her.

She turned to face him and as she looked up into his eyes, it suddenly felt like she had looked into the sun.

‘But not for the same reasons you are,’ he said. He crooked a finger under her chin so she couldn’t look away. ‘Why do you make love only with ghosts?’

Everything in her wanted to turn and flee before it was too late, but she stood her ground and held his gaze. ‘It hasn’t ended well for the living when I’ve had sex with them.’

‘Are you afraid it won’t end well for me?’

She didn’t answer. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to speak. There were too many memories too close to the surface, memories she had taken lifetimes to bury deep, and this man had dug them all up in only a few hours.

He took both of her hands, ignoring the compost on her fingers, then brushed a kiss gently across her lips, making her want like she hadn’t allowed herself to want in a very long time. Then he pulled away and brushed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. ‘I’m already dead, Tara. Physically I may not be a ghost, but I’m already dead. Everything that I lived for was taken from me seven years ago.’

She pushed him away. ‘Seven years? Only seven years? You’re not dead yet, Kennet. You haven’t even begun to die. You haven’t had nearly enough years to really beg for death, long for death, pray that it’ll come in the night and set you free.’ She reached for the staging table for support. Her knees were weak, her insides felt like snow on the wind. ‘But then you realize that you’ll be no freer of him dead than you are alive. So no, you’re not dead, Kennet. Don’t even wish for it, and if you think your pet demon will protect you, then you don’t know demons.’

This time he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her to him with such force that she gasped out loud. He took her mouth with stunning anger, like nothing she’d ever felt before, and she returned his assault with her own rage, meeting his tongue thrust for angry thrust, bruising his lips with the force of mouth and teeth, biting and aching, as he bit back. Then he pulled away breathless. ‘She’s not my pet demon, Tara and, trust me, I fucking know demons.’

Then they were kissing again as though they would tear each other apart, as though they would rip the very breath from each other in angry, scorched shreds. His hands moved to her hips, and he hoisted her onto the staging table, shoving aside the gypsy skirt until she could feel the rough wood against the silk of her panties. He fingered aside the crotch and she tried to squirm away from him. ‘I don’t fuck the living,’ she gasped against his mouth, then she bore down as his thick middle finger found its way between her labia and thrust upward. She pulled him to her even as she tried to push him away with her words.

‘Yes you do, as of this morning you do. You need it, I need it, and it’s time you stopped letting Deacon call the shots.’

She felt his last words like a slap and like an aphrodisiac at the same time, and everything in her felt wet with need. ‘Do it, goddamnit,’ she growled. ‘If you’re gonna do it, do it and don’t make me wait!’ She grabbed for his fly with an awkward grip from a bad angle that caused him to flinch and push her hand aside. ‘Damn it, get them off,’ she gasped, ‘I can’t wait!’

With trembling hands he practically ripped the zipper out of his fly, then shoved his jeans and boxers down around his hip and his erection bounced free from its exquisite nest of copper brown curls. The view was brief, and she told herself in a sliver of a thought that was left to her, that sometime she’d like to linger and explore, though in her heart she didn’t really believe she’d ever be afforded that luxury, so she’d take what he’d give her.

Once again he tore at her panties until they were stretched over one buttock and she could feel the cool air of the greenhouse against her gape, then while she held herself open, he cupped his hands under her arse and lifted her from the table, down onto his heft. With a grunt and a slight thrust, he pressed up into her, and she yielded like soft butter, then gripped like a fist. Then she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face back to hers, and their tongue dance matched the rhythm of the thrust and glide. Grunts became feral cries, throats became raw, and vision blurred in searing heat that had nothing to do with Lucia.

‘Great Goddess,’ he gasped. ‘If I’m not dead, I’m dying now, and it’s your fault.’

She bit his neck hard and he flinched and surged inside her tight grip. ‘You asked for it, and I don’t believe in making people beg.’

‘I can’t think of a better way to go,’ he grunted.

In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dying right along with him, but it didn’t really matter, dead or alive, it was pretty much the same to her.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed between barely parted lips. ‘I can’t hold back any longer, woman. I have to come now.’ And as his cock convulsed inside her, and his groin raked upward against her clit, she came in great sobs that made her throat ache, that made her body feel like some animal, curled deep at her centre, had awakened ravenous and needy with an emptiness to fill that was bigger than the void. And strangely enough, Kennet Lucian felt like he might begin to touch the emptiness.

For a long time, he held her there, both of them gasping for breath, her arms and legs wrapped around him, his large hands cupping her bottom. ‘Tara,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘Please trust me.’

She ran a hand through his hair and nipped his ear with her teeth. ‘Then prove to me that I can.’

BLURB

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

BUY LINKS

Amazon   Amazon UK   Xcite Books

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms HollyThe Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel,Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace MarshallAn Executive DecisionIdentity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Links:

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.twitter.com/kd_grace

http://www.facebook.com/kdgraceauthor

Giveaway

Two PDF copies of the first book in the Lakeland Heatwave trilogy – Body Temperature and Rising.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Click on the graphic below
for the rest of K D’s tour stops

 

Deena Remiel on Tour ~ Day Two

HE’S A HERO, BUT IT’S COMPLICATED…

Welcome to the second day of ELIXXIR’S Blog Tour! For those of you who just came in, so glad you joined us. For those of you who returned, so glad you’re back! In yesterday’s post I mentioned that my angels are superheroes, but they’re complicated. Today, I shall explain just how complicated NATHANAEL is, and therefore what makes his story so compelling.

You see, Nathanael is a Brethren Warrior. His duties require him to mete out Brethren Justice on those who are victimizing other with their evil ways. This means sending them straight to Hell with his ritualized sword. Across the many centuries that he’s been on Earth, he’s been mostly a military man, highly specialized. But these days, he’s a bounty hunter, and is quite busy. Well, it seems that he’s developed a very dangerous addiction… to violence. He can’t seem to get enough of the adrenaline rush and that’s left him open to Satan’s suggestions. Oh yes, Satan wants not just a piece of Nathanael. He wants all of him. Poor Nate is going crazy keeping the devil at bay, but he’s losing the war. Add into the mix his mission to retrieve the Elixxir of Life from a hard-assed, messed up woman who’s fighting for her own life and you get what? Complicated!

*TRINITY and RELIC are the first two novels in this series. ELIXXIR is the third. They can be read in any order, so don’t be shy. Even if you haven’t started the series yet, Nathanael’s story is worth the leap.

Here’s a taste of ELIXXIR:

Callie has secrets, too many to count.

For twenty years she’s been living a lie as Callie Worthington, hiding from the monsters who brutally murdered her parents for possession of the Elixxir of Life. Unsuccessful before, their killers have found her and will stop at nothing to acquire the Elixxir. And see her dead.

Nathanael has a couple of secrets, too. A nasty one in particular blurs the line separating Good from Evil. As an immortal Brethren Warrior, though, he must retrieve the Elixxir before it falls into the wrong hands. Just how he’s going to get it out of Callie’s is the big question.

Tempers flare as Callie and Nathanael reach out to each other with their own hidden agendas. She needs his protection. He needs the Elixxir. Will their fiery passion lead to lasting love, or will their web of intrigue ultimately destroy them both?

Secrets, lies, and love’s loyalties tested. What price for immortality? What price for love?

And now for a tasty excerpt from ELIXXIR:

The alarm proved to be no friend, come Monday morning. It wouldn’t stop buzzing. Callie picked it up and threw it clear across the room. Before hitting the far wall, it managed to nail a delicate glass figurine, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

“Well, shit.” She got up to get the dustpan and broom, and swept her mess away. She fell back against her bed and ruffled her hair. “All right, sister, you promised yourself you’d change, so here we are at Day One. Get your act together, put some decent clothes on, and paint a smile on your face. Today is the first day of the rest of your life!” She sat up and smiled a cheesy, fake smile at her reflection in the dresser mirror and got ready for work.

She saw things in a whole different light by the time she downed her coffee and ate her English muffin. After tossing her plate and mug in the sink, she did a final check of her face and hair in the foyer mirror, opened the door, and slammed straight into a wall of man.

“Whoa,” said a rich, baritone voice.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were….” Her next words were frozen on her tongue as she identified the mammoth creature in front of her.

Kemuel.

Too stunned to move, she looked straight into his jade-colored eyes, momentarily lost in the memory of how they once made her knees turn to jelly. The memory faded quickly, and she smirked as her knees held her steady and strong. Having regained her composure, she saw a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. Crushed flowers, now.

“Hello, Callie. I—”

Before he could say another word, she backed up and slammed the door in his face.

Leaning against it, she closed her eyes, wishing that she’d simply imagined him, and it was really the guy from the florist down the street. She turned and looked through the peephole. No such luck. Kemuel stood there, all right. What the hell is he doing here? Maybe if I stay in here long enough, he’ll give up and go away. No, be realistic woman. You’re gonna have to throw him out. Just do it.

Slowly, she opened the portal to Hell to find him still standing there in all of his six-foot-four, god-like glory, looking shell-shocked. She hadn’t forgotten how perfection had shined down upon him, kissing his head with pure white strands of hair, and blessed him with a muscular build meant to be scaled by her. She also hadn’t forgotten being left high and dry for nearly six months, either.

 

BUY LINKS:

AMAZON   B&N    ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS

DECADENT PUBLISHING

 

AUTHOR BIO:

It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as an author. When she’s not writing romance novels and poetry in the wee, small hours of the morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to middle school students. She currently lives in Gilbert with her husband and two children, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings. She loves connecting with her fans, so find her at deenaremiel.com.

http://www.deenaremiel.com

http://www.facebook.com/DeenaRemielAuthor

http://www.twitter.com/deenaremiel

http://paranormalromantics.blogspot.com

CONTEST:

Leave a comment below about your FAVORITE addiction (mine is chocolate!) and TWO OF YOU WILL BE PICKED RANDOMLY to receive a signed ELIXXIR poster.

Click on the graphic below to link
to the rest of Deena’s tour stops -
the more you comment,
the better your chances to win!

 

Featured Book ~ Smut Alfresco, by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Smut Alfresco

Edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Sex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

Available from:

  AllRomanceEBooks   Amazon UK   Amazon   

Other links added here as they become available: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-alfresco/

*****

Being Free

By Lucy Felthouse

Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.

*****

Links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk and http://victoriablisse.co.uk

 
© 2012 Adriana Kraft. All Rights Reserved.