Daisy Banks Blog

Stories to leave you spellbound.

Cover Reveal for Till Life Do Us Part by Carmen Stefanescu,

 

Today I welcome Carmen Stefanescu with her beautiful new cover for her upcoming release.

 

Daisy, thank you so much for having me as your guest today.  You know my interest in anything odd –  paranormal, myths,  legends  – all that is out of the normal boundaries.  Reincarnation and chat with ghosts can be included, too.

I’m thrilled to be here, and excited to share the cover for my incoming release

Till Life Do Us Part

Till Life Do us part-001

Publisher: Solstice Publishing

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Magic, Reincarnation, Mystery, Suspense

Release date: 9th June 2016

 

Blurb

Barbara Heyer can hear voices of dead people. They whisper of their deaths, seek comfort for those left behind, and occasionally even warn her about future events. But when Barbara’s brother, Colin, is accused of murder, it will take more than her gift to prove his innocence.

Becoming smitten with the handsome investigator, Detective Patrick Fischer, is a serious complication given his assignment to her brother’s case. Barbara senses there is something far deeper—and perhaps much older—than the surface attraction between them. Could that be why she’s visited by a mysterious woman named Emma in her dreams? Could past life regression tie all the seemingly unconnected events together?

Barbara and Patrick must overcome heartache to find the truth to save Colin, and perhaps themselves.

 

carmen

 

Author Bio

Carmen Stefanescu resides in Romania, the native country of the infamous vampire Count Dracula, but where, for about 50 years of communist dictatorship, just speaking about God, faith, reincarnation or paranormal phenomena could have led someone to great trouble – the psychiatric hospital if not to prison.

Teacher of English and German in her native country and mother of two daughters, Carmen Stefanescu survived the grim years of oppression, by escaping in a parallel world that of the books.

She has dreamed all her life to become a writer, but many of the things she wrote during those years remained just drawer projects. The fall of the Ceausescu’s regime in 1989 and the opening of the country to the world meant a new beginning for her. She started publishing. Several of her poems were successfully published in a collection of Contemporary English Poems, Muse Whispers vol.1 and Muse Whispers vol.2 by Midnight Edition Publication, in 2001 and 2002.

Her first novel, Shadows of the Past, was released in 2012 by Wild Child Publishing, USA.

Carmen joined the volunteer staff at Marketing For Romance Writers Author blog and is the coordinator of #Thursday13 posts.

 

You can stalk the author here:

http://shadowspastmystery.blogspot.ro/

https://twitter.com/Carmen_Books

http://www.pinterest.com/carmens007/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Carmen-Stefanescu-Books/499245716760283

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6624397.Carmen_Stefanescu

https://plus.google.com/117216040843648957646/posts

http://www.amazon.com/Carmen-Stefanescu/e/B00APVDGAA/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Sunday Sexy Snippets.

New SexySnippets_Button

 

Welcome to Sunday Sexy Snippets and thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for their weekly challenge to offer seven sexy sentences from a work in progress or published work. To visit the Scribblers click the logo.

Please be aware Sexy Snippets often contain 18+ material. By continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

My snippet this week comes from my newest story for the Sexy to Go anthologies. At present it is in the process of being editited so forgive any bloopers. This story will be out later in the year.

Enjoy.

Mike fetched the ironing board.

Please don’t imagine a thin legged metal piece. This early model happened to be a hefty block of wood with sturdy legs, a peculiar metal crank to extend the board and thick wadding on the ironing surface. I suddenly had an idea of why he’d fetched it. I shook my head as he set it up. “Not on there?”

“I thought this would be the perfect reminder as to why you’re getting this spanking.”

STG RR 1

Sexy to Go Volume 1 remains a free read for now. So, if you’ve not grabbed a copy yet click the cover to get yours.

These are the other authors contributing to Sexy Snippets this week. Do visit them too.

Sunday Sexy Snippets-Something New for Sexy to Go.

 

New SexySnippets_ButtonWelcome to Sunday Sexy Snippets & thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for the weekly challenge to offer seven sexy sentence from a work in progress or a published work.

Please be aware Sexy Snippets often contains 18+ material. By continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

 

My snippet this week comes from a new story for the spanking special of Sexy to Go which will be out a little later in the year. As yet this is unedited so do forgive any bloopers you find.

Enjoy this seven.

 

“I’m not going to bed while everyone else is still up. I want another glass of wine.”

“Not a ghost of a chance. Bed.” Mike hauled me up and the room spun like a fairground ride as he dumped me across his shoulder. “There are times when you get the crazies I could cheerfully put you over my knee.”

“I bloody well wish you would,” I shouted, and for some reason the room became utterly silent.

STG RR 1

 

Sexy to Go 1 is a free read at present so why not click the cover to grab your copy if you haven’t got it already.

These are the other authors contributing to Sexy Snippets this week. Do visit them too.

List for Sunday 17th April


 

7th of April Release Day for Round Trip Fare by Barb Taub.

I’m delighted to welcome Barb Taub

to the blog today and help her celebrate the release of her new book.

Round Trip Fare

Round Trip Fare (Null City, Book 4)

Is it wrong that shooting people is just so much easier than making decisions? Carey Parker’s to-do list is already long enough: find her brother and sister, rescue her roommate, save Null City, and castrate her ex-boyfriend. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.

 

Round_Trip_Fare-Barb_Taub-500x800

Click the cover to buy.

Blurb:

Is it wrong that shooting people is just so much easier than making decisions? Carey wonders— and not for the first time. But the Agency claims this will be an easy one. A quick pickup of a missing teen and she won’t even have to shoot anybody. Probably.

Carey knows superpowers suck, her own included. From childhood she’s only had two options. She can take the Metro train to Null City and a normal life. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hellhounds become poodles. Demons settle down, join the PTA, and worry about their taxes. Or she can master the powers of her warrior gift and fight a war she can’t win, in a world where she never learned how to lose.

And then there is… him. For the past two months, a dark stranger has persistently edged his way onto the mental game board behind her eyelids. Well, whatever trouble he’s selling, Carey Parker is not buying. Her to-do list is already long enough: find her brother and sister, rescue her roommate, save Null City, and castrate her ex-boyfriend. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.

She just has a few details to work out first. Her parents have been killed, her brother and sister targeted, and the newest leader of the angels trying to destroy Null City might be the one person she loves most in the world. And her sexy new partner’s gift lets him predict deaths. Hers.

Excerpt:

Was it wrong that shooting people was so much easier than finishing up the humanities requirements for her criminal justice degree? Carey Parker sipped her coffee and—not for the first time—wondered about herself. But the Agency said this would be an easy one. A quick pickup and she wouldn’t even have to shoot anybody. Probably.

There were two distinct advantages to her corner table at the rear of the self-consciously artistic coffee shop on the edge of Seattle’s eclectic Fremont district. Nobody could see her screen, and—infinitely more important—she had sole possession of the outlet currently charging both iPad and phone. She checked her iPad’s video screen to make sure the blonde teen she was tracking still had no idea she was being studied. Well, okay—studied along with the research materials for Carey’s overdue Humanities 201 essay. “Discuss the relationship of capitalism and patriarchal post constructivist theory. Provide data and cite literature supporting your thesis.” She squinted at the assignment, minimized to parallel the video window, and cringed.

Enlarging the video, Carey automatically evaluated her target. The teenager was a few inches under Carey’s own five-five. But where Carey’s cargo pants and hoodie hid a leanly muscled frame and a surprising number of weapons, the other girl’s designer Goth outfit made the most of her soft curves. Plus that pink streak in the younger girl’s hair was a little too shiny, her dark eyeliner a bit too creamy, while her wannabe goth leather jacket, fitted black T-shirt, and long dark skirt screamed Nordstrom personal shopper and Daddy’s credit card.

A lifetime of training—three years at the Academy, four more in the field—and they send me after Goth-Barbie. Carey sighed. Is it even worth it? But a flash memory—her guardian Harry’s blood-drenched golden hair, the almost-forgotten faces of her murdered parents, her missing brother and sister—stopped her. If she had a prayer of finding Gaby and Connor, she couldn’t afford to give up the all-important info access the Agency jobs provided. And then there was…him. For the past two months, the dark stranger had persistently edged his way onto the mental game board behind her eyelids where her harmonia gift visualized connections only she could view. Whatever trouble Mr. Six-Feet-Plus of arrogance is selling, I’m sure not buying.

“Excuse me. Do you need both outlets?”

Carey looked up to see the blonde standing in front of her, expectantly holding up her power cord. “Yes.” She returned her focus to the iPad screen, ignoring the muttered “bitch” as the girl went over to try her smile on the men two tables over. Her reversed video window showed the younger girl breathlessly thanking the man who leaped to free up an outlet for her. As she leaned over their table, the men’s eyes lit with appreciation for the way she maximized scoop-neck T-shirt, youth, and the best technology the foundations industry had to offer. Guess there’s all kinds of ways to say thank you.

Shrugging, Carey returned to her own essay assignment. Her business partner, Marley, was pushing her to finish the degree that would let them bill the Agency at a higher rate. But at twenty-four Carey felt a generation older than her fellow students. With her erratic hours, she had to take classes offering online options whenever possible, so she was currently sentenced to Humanities 201: Postmodernist Applications for Economic Themes in Literature.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here for ages.”

At the sex-kitten whine, Carey’s eyes flicked back to the little video window to see the other girl pouting up at a new arrival. But her complaints didn’t stop her from giving the young man—a boy, really, although Marley’s data sheet said he was nineteen—a thorough tonsil cleaning. Pulling away, he threw himself into a dramatic slouch across the next chair, giving Carey her first good look at him. He was thin, but more like an adolescent whose slender arms and legs had yet to develop a man’s solid outlines. His pale fallen-angel face sulked behind long hair too carefully slashed and tossed over one eye to be accidental. He looked, Carey thought, beautiful and brooding and more than a little stupid. Score!

Pretending to check her phone, Carey took a quick picture of the boy and texted it along with the address of the coffee shop. It had only been a few days since he’d left home and stopped showing up at his classes or part-time job. Too little time for the police to be concerned, but long enough for his frantic parents to agree to her search fee. Setting the phone aside, she adjusted her video window to give him a critical once-over. But he didn’t seem any more pale or unhealthy than would be explained by devotion to the laptop he was even now pulling out and opening.

“Get me a coffee?” He didn’t look up from his laptop as he spoke. The girl pouted again but bounced off. Returning with a cup for each of them, she leaned forward to lay a gentle hand on his arm. “Is your poem cycle done yet?” The boy shook his head impatiently, fingers tapping at his laptop’s keyboard. She smiled. “Don’t worry. Now that I’m here, it will go so much better.” He blinked, and shivered. She breathed in and smiled again. His typing increased, his face intent on the screen.

Carey flipped the cover down on her iPad, rewound its power cable as well as the one for her phone, and stored them in their specially padded—okay, armored—case. The Apple people had been incredibly nice about that last bullet incident, but she could just hear Marley explaining, again, how their little company couldn’t afford to keep buying her new iPads. Setting the case into the backpack hanging behind her corner chair, Carey leaned both elbows on the table, peering over the brim of her raised coffee cup. Excellent coffee, she decided. Wonder if they roast it themselves?

Finally the two men, the only other customers in the secluded rear room, stood up and left. She took a final look around at the coffee shop’s rear seating area—one door, no windows or other access—and left to talk to the barista in the front room of the coffee shop. Twenty dollars later, Carey taped a handwritten sign—“Rear room reserved for private meeting”—to the outside of the door. Stepping back inside the room, empty now except for the younger couple, she closed the door behind her and stopped in front of the boy.

“Your mother is worried about you, Will.” His automatic sneer came a fraction too late to cover his stunned expression. Before he could speak, she turned to the girl. “It’s time to go, Leigh Ann.”

“The name is Leannán.”

Carey laughed. “Well, Leannán Sí…” She pronounced each Gaelic syllable with exaggerated care, L’ann-AN Shee. “Since you refuse to honor the Accords Agreement, the Council feels it’s time for you to go to Null City. Let’s go. I have a class this afternoon, and I don’t want to be late again.”

The boy started to stand, trying to look tough, but only managing to achieve the ferocity of a puppy protecting his favorite chew toy. “We don’t have to go anywhere with you. Get your stuff, Leigh Ann. We’re outta here.”

“Actually.” Carey’s voice was quiet. “You’re half right.” Her hand shot out and pressed his stomach. “You don’t need to go with me.” His breath whooshed out, and all three looked down at the tiny needle as she pulled her hand back. A moment later, his legs buckled, and Carey guided his falling body back down to his chair. He slumped there, head hanging awkwardly.

Leigh Ann stared from Will to Carey, eyes round. “Is he…?”

“He’s fine.” Carey turned to the girl and pointed to her corner table. “Sit. And don’t even think about talking.”

Carey checked the boy’s pulse and nodded to herself in relief. As a young witch, her friend Claire’s sleep spells wore off pretty quickly because she had to boil down the spelled water to make it take effect so fast. He’d probably just wake up with a hell of a headache. She arranged his head on his arms as if he was taking a quick nap in front of his laptop. In an afterthought, she picked up his fedora from the floor and pulled it onto his head, hiding his face.

Returning to the scowling girl at her table, she took a small book of forms from her backpack and started filling out the top page.

“You can’t just—” Leigh Ann sputtered.

Without looking up Carey showed her the hand. “What did I tell you not to do?” The girl fidgeted for another minute as Carey frowned at the form in front of her. Finally she looked up. “How old are you again?”

“Nineteen. And I don’t…”

Carey shook a warning finger without looking up. “I hate these Accords forms. You have to make sure you fill in every last blank or those badgers in accounting will hold up your check.” She made a final note, put the notebook away, and pulled out her phone to check the time. “They should be here by now. Must be that damn bridge traffic.”

“Who?”

Carey jerked her head toward the next table. “Sleeping Beauty’s parents. I’ve found it best to collect my fee on the spot. People’s memories tend to…fade…otherwise.”

“Wait.” Leigh Ann sounded indignant. “You were hired to find Will?”

“Nah, he was just a bonus. One of his friends told the Agency that he’d disappeared with a Leannán Sí. I used him to find you because I have an authorized ARC warrant for you.”

“ARC?”

“Accords Recovery and Capture.” When the girl still looked confused, Carey sighed. “Amateurs. I’m an Accords Warden licensed for paranormal recoveries, and I’m serving an ARC warrant in your name. That reminds me.” She rooted through the pocket of her backpack for the laminated card and set her phone camera to video. Centering the camera view screen on Leigh Ann’s face, she pushed record, and began to read the card. “By the authority of Accords Agency warrant number 110309A57, I charge you, Leigh Ann—” Pausing, she looked over to the form she’d filled out before returning to the card. “—Leigh Ann Shay, a practicing Leannán Sí, to accompany me to the Council Headquarters. If you request a hearing, you are entitled to representation. Otherwise, you are sentenced to five years of Null City residency without an amnesty day. This recovery and your rights are specified in Amendment 3, sections 7-18 of the Accords Agreement of 1998. The current time is 15:57 on March 7, 2011. Carey Parker, Accords Adjunct Warden License 07823 class 3, submitting authorized Accords Recovery and Capture statement.” She turned off the camera and played back the recording. Satisfied, she uploaded it to Agency servers, put her phone and the card back into her backpack, and faced the girl.

Leigh Ann looked uncertain. “Null City?”

Carey looked at her curiously. “You don’t know about the City?”

“Yeah, and I know about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny too. Come on. You really believe there’s a city you get to on a magic train, and after a day there you become a normal human?”

“Since my family founded it, yeah. I kinda do believe it.” She leaned back in her chair to consider the teenager in front of her. “You could have killed that boy, Leigh Ann. What could be worth his death?”

The girl widened soft blue eyes at her. “I’m a Leannán Sí. He’s a writer, and I would have given him an intense, brilliantly inspired life of creating masterpieces. So what if it would have been a short one? It’s got to be better to go as a blazing star than stay as a…” Her voice trailed off as a snore filtered from beneath the fedora.

“Did you give him a choice? Did you say to him, ‘Will, I’ll be your muse and give you lots of coffee-shop kissing although the actual sex won’t be that great, and there’s the whole die young thing… But you won’t mind because it will all be for your Art’?”

Leigh Ann frowned. “The sex wouldn’t have been that bad.”

Carey snorted. “And actually, that masterpiece he was producing?” She reached over to snag Will’s computer and pulled it around to face Leigh Ann. “First thing I did was put a keystroke tracker onto his laptop. And believe me, reading that drivel was almost as bad as my humanities essay. He copied most of it from last month’s Poetry!Slam online. Here’s what he was actually writing.” She selected Recent Documents on the laptop and opened the top file listed.

The younger girl’s eyes widened. “Fanfiction?” She peered at the screen and looked like she might be sick. “One Direction fanfiction?”

“Nothing wrong with fanfiction.” Carey raised an eyebrow. “We’ve all done it. But Will’s was…” She shuddered. “Really, really bad.” She looked curiously at the younger girl and waved at the snoring boy. “Why did you do it?”

Leigh Ann looked down at her clasped hands. “My parents were killed just before the war ended. When Haven and Gifts signed the Accords in 1995, I was sent to live with my father’s cousins. They had a little apple orchard up on the Olympic Peninsula, and there wasn’t much money. Everyone had to work pretty hard all the time, just to get food to eat and a few clothes. But I knew there was something different inside me. Something that would inspire beauty and genius and glorious creativity.”

Carey stared at her. “Well, that’s an entire pickup truck full of prime-quality manure.”

“Was it the farm?” Leigh Ann frowned. “The orphan bit?

Buy Links

 Amazon US    Amazon UK   Kobo  Barnes & Noble

 

Meet the author.

Blog | Facebook  Twitter: @barbtaub  Goodreads

Barb pix 300 dpi

 

In halcyon days BC (before children), Barb Taub wrote a humor column for several Midwest newspapers. With the arrival of Child #4, she veered toward the dark side and an HR career. Following a daring daytime escape to England, she’s lived in a medieval castle and a hobbit house with her prince-of-a-guy and the World’s Most Spoiled AussieDog. Now all her days are Saturdays, and she spends them traveling around the world, plus consulting with her daughter on Marvel heroes, Null City, and translating from British to American. ]

 

 

 

No experience goes to waste.

No experience goes to waste.

Daisy_chain

An interesting thing about writing is how it impacts on the mind. No experience good or bad ever goes to waste. Each small element of a situation or incident is ripe for use on the page. Every emotion is something to treasure and try to recapture in words—all grist to the mill of the author exploring the world of and with words. The last few weeks I’ve had an interesting education in discovering the many nuances of being in pain. The shade and light of this physical sensation is something most writers explore in one way or another and I thought I’d share some of the words that might be used to describe it.

I am sure you can add to this list but here are some of the ones I’ve been thinking about. I think the worst level of pain in them is relentless. Which one do you think carries the most weight?

Pain

Ache

Aggravate

Agony

Agonizing

Anguish

Annoy

Blister

Burn

Chafe

Constant

Continual

Damaged

Discomfort

Dreadful

Excruciating

Gnaw

Harsh

Hurt

Inexorable

Inflame

Irritate

Insistent

Insupportable

Insufferable

Itch

Intolerable

Pang

Persistent

Piercing

Prickle

Nag

Relentless

Ruthless

Severe

Sharp

Smart

Sore

Sting

Tear

Tender

Terrible

Throb

Toe-curling

Torment

Tweak

Twinge

Unbearable

Uncomfortable

Unendurable

Unremitting

Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks

 

Sunday Sexy Snippet. Something new.

New SexySnippets_ButtonWelcome to this holiday Sunday Sexy Snippet. Thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for the weekly challenge to offer seven sentences from a work in progress or published work. Click the logo to visit the scribblers.

Please be aware Sexy Snippets often contain 18+ material. By continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

My snippet today comes from something new. My next short story for

the Sexy to Go Series.

I do hope you enjoy this little snip from a shifter story involving cats.

 “The potion you ruined is ‘Cat Cause’ and tonight when the moon is high, you, my servant will become a she-cat. For how long I cannot tell as I did not see the extent of potion your skin absorbed. Five drops are enough for a year, a whole palm of the stuff may even make the change permanent.” The magician grinned and reached down to stroke over Marmalade Tom’s fur again.

The ginger tom stared wide-eyed in her direction and flicked his tongue over his lips.

A new flash of horror ran over her. “I won’t be his mate.”

You can buy all the Sexy to Go titles here and even download Sexy to Go 1 for free.

http://www.amazon.com/Daisy-Banks/e/B00EWLCP3I

STG RR 1

These other authors are taking part in the Sexy Snippets challenge this week do visit them as well.

List for Sunday 27th March


A Blooming Lovely Monday. Crocus.

Springtimegreetings

 

Welcome to another blooming lovely Monday.

 

Finally winter is edging away and spring is making itself felt in my garden. One of the first flowers to open is the delightful splash of color from the Spring Crocus. I have yellow and purple crocus flowers and though it hasn’t happened this year I am always delighted to see these raise their lovely heads when there is still snow on the ground. There has been very little snow here this winter. Instead, we have had a relentless battering from Atlantic wind and rain, leaden gray skies and a distinct lack of sunshine. The cheery crocus is a welcome sight and a herald of warmer and sunnier days. Of course this little blossom wouldn’t be on blooming Monday if it were simply a pretty flower. There is so much more it has to offer.

 Several legends are linked to the crocus. One links to Valentine’s Day. It is said a Roman physician, Valentinus, who had converted to Christianity, prayed for his patient’s recovery as well as offering them herbal remedies. Christians were persecuted at this time the physician was arrested. Poor Valentinus had a little luck for in the past he’d healed his jailor’s daughter from a troublesome and difficult illness. To alert her to his imprisonment and beg her help Valentinus gave the jailor a note addressed to his on-time patient, inside the folded parchment he put a yellow crocus. When the jailor’s daughter opened this note, the first thing she saw was the yellow crocus. The letter was signed, from your Valentine and so it is said the first valentine letter brought a smile from its receiver and help to its sender.

Along with the romance of the first Valentine the crocus is linked to happy marriage. In times past in India the petals of the crocus were laid on the matrimonial bed after the wedding ceremony. This was done in the belief the flower would help the couple to form a happy loving relationship. Some cynics say the real reason is the aphrodisiac perfume these flowers are said to produce.

In the Victorian language of flowers, the crocus means cheerfulness and gladness and is a delightful gift to offer your lover. It is said to be a bloom full of glee just like the eager happiness of youth and is linked to the youthfulness.

The delicious and beautiful spice Saffron comes from the crocus.  Not only does saffron give a delicate flavor and aroma as an ingredient to dishes, it has also been found to work as an anti-carcinogenetic, an antioxidant and also an immune system booster. Modern studies have shown saffron to be useful in treating cancer by helping to fight tumors and easing the discomfort associated with chemotherapy. It has also been used to treat recovering alcoholics and is said to help repair damage done to the brain by alcoholism. Not a bad list of helpful attributes harvested from such a small bloom.

In the past Saffron was as it remains today, a well respected tool in the herbalists list of ingredients. It was said to be useful for treating many illnesses including measles, bladder, kidney and liver disorders and diabetes. An infusion of saffron is said to help relieve depression.

Please remember Saffron is collected by drying the bright red stigmas of Crocus sativus, a specific form of crocus. There are nineteen different forms of crocus. The Autumn Crocus, also known as Meadow Saffron or Naked Lady is highly toxic and can injure pets as well as people so keep them to areas your pets and children don’t visit.

The crocus grows worldwide and thrives in woodland, meadows and general rough ground. It was first cultivated on Crete.

 In magic the Spring crocus is associated with Venus, Aphrodite, Eros and Persephone, and the planets Mercury and Venus. Crocus blooms are often used for early spring festival decorations such as at Imbolc and Ostara. This flower is also useful for spells related to new beginnings.

I would recommend the crocus flower to all of you as a visual tonic for winter woes.

Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks

Sunday Sexy Snippets. A snippet from First Contact.

 

New SexySnippets_Button

Click the logo to visit the Nuthouse Scribblers.

Welcome to Sunday Sexy Snippets and thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for the weekly challenge to offer seven sexy sentence from a work in progress or published work.

Be aware that Sexy Snippets often contain 18+ material and by continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

My snippet this week comes from First Contact, my story in the

Sexy to Go Volume 1 Boxed Set. This is a free read presently. Do enjoy the collection and this snippet too.

STG RR 1Click the cover to download your free copy.

Snippet.

This is unfair. I can’t see you at all. She eased off her panties and set them down. The leather chair stuck to her sweaty buttocks and she crossed her legs. There, alien pervert.
“What is this name?”
It’s a term of endearment. Like calling you a friend.

These are the other authors taking part in Sexy Snippets this week. Do visit them too.

Sunday Sexy Snippet from Sexy to Go 1.

 

New SexySnippets_Button

To visit the Nuthouse Scribblers click the logo.

Welcome to Sunday Sexy Snippets and thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for the weekly challenge to offer seven sexy sentence from a work in progress or published work.

Do be aware that Sexy Snippets often contain adult material. By continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

My sexy seven this week come from my story First Contact, a sensual sci-fi short story in Sexy to Go 1, which is currently a free read.

STG RR 1

Click the cover to get your free copy.

Enjoy.

 

Slowly she unbuttoned the shirt, pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor. Little pools of sweat formed in the creases of her elbows. Only being able to move her arms made removing further clothes impossible. You have to let me move freely or I can’t undress and nor will I be able to… Did she want a repeat performance of last night? Hell, yes she did. She ached for another taste of the powerful release she’d found at his urging.

 

These are the other authors taking part in Sexy Snippets this week. Do visit them too.

 

Tuesday Treat from Mother’s Day Magic.

nice strawberry eater

Welcome to a Tuesday Treat.

The story collection

Mother’s Day Magic

Mothers Day the one!! MDM

is out today.

Buy links below

  I couldn’t resist offering you a little taster from my story in the collection

December Roses.

4DaisyBanksDecemberRoses Cover3

“I’ll make sure Jean’s back by ten and no later. You have my word on it,” Jack said.
“Just you see you do because if there is any funny business her father will want a word with you.”
Jean scrunched her shoulders and cringed. Why did her mother always have to be so suspicious? Jack showed the patience of a saint putting up with the comments when he came to fetch her. She’d been seeing him for eight months and both her parents ought to know by now he wasn’t just a soldier who wanted to get into her knickers.
“Don’t you fret, Ma. I’ll take good care of your wench. We’ll bring you something back from Bridgnorth. See you later.” He stepped away from the door and turned wearing his delightful smile. He winked. “I’ll win her round yet, pigeon” he said and took Jean’s arm. “Every time I take you out it’s like playing Saint George.”
She chuckled as they walked down the back garden and turned into the dark roofed gully way between her home and the neighbours. In the shadows midway from the gate and the road, Jack paused and leaned close enough so his breath warmed her skin below her ear. “As I’ve slain today’s dragon, can I kiss my princess?”
“No, you can’t, not now,” she said but smiled because kisses would come later. Tonight, when they got back, despite all her mother’s warnings she’d let him kiss her properly before he took her indoors.

Buy links

Buy Links
Purchase link USA
USA http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AVHGNJI

Amz USA

Purchase link UK
UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01AVHGNJI

Amazon UK

Barnes and Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mothers-day-magic-angela-ford/1123291706
Kobo
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/mother-s-day-magic
iTunes
https://itunes.apple.com/au/book/mothers-day-magic/id1077026791?mt=11