Swoop on Love by Elodie Parkes

Please welcome back Elodie Parkes. She’s got another hot number for you to get a sneak peeK and a giveaway!

Thank you for inviting me to the blog to celebrate the release of ‘Swoop on Love’ from Evernight Publishing.

I loved writing this story because of the inspiration behind it. Like my heroine, Jeanie, I found a sign post to a strangely named place and followed the country road that took me there. I didn’t find the two shifter heroes Nathan and Reed, but I did find the country restaurant that is mentioned in the story, and I passed the Christmas tree plantations that also feature in the scenery of the book.

Nathan and Reed are special characters for me. They are similar in looks but so different in personality. Nathan is alpha and the enforced restrictions on his life in recent years have taken their toll. He’s reckless, risk taking and that’s how Jeanie uncovers his secret. He inspired the title since he saw Jeanie wants her and love, and so he takes it.

Reed is gentle, sensual, and giving, but he’s also very sexy.

About ‘Swoop on Love’

Lured to the place by its intriguing name, Jeanie was to find no owls lived there, but someone or thing does…will she realize before it’s too late?

Suspense…shifters…sex…and love

Jeanie explores her new neighborhood and finds a strange little road leading to a place with an intriguing name. Owlswick. It’s Saturday and she has no plans, as usual, why not drive down this road? What she finds there is even more fascinating than the place name, and to her delight, a very attractive man lives there. Too bad he’s furious with her for taking a photograph. Why is that? What will Jeanie find when she checks the picture out at home later?

A love story, graphic sex scenes and a twist of fantasy suspense, 18+

Read an excerpt from Swoop on Love: 18+ rated

They fell into each other’s arms. Nathan pulled her close and kissed her softly. Jeanie responded to him. She pressed against him with such passion it filled him with a longing he’d not experienced for many years. He drew back from her and rested his forehead against hers. They breathed against each other for a moment before Nathan kissed her again. Down her neck, across her throat, up to her ear, where he lingered and whispered, “You’re so lovely.”

She pushed closer and he cupped her bottom, pulling her in so that she could feel his cock hard against her. It felt so good to press against her, that he lost himself in kissing her. He nibbled her bottom lip. At her gasp of desire, his stomach clenched and his cock jerked. He slid his tongue against hers and kissed her until he couldn’t breathe. Her body felt so right against his, and he savored the taste of her lips, the softness of her ass in his hands. His heart pounded and although he hadn’t set out to, he wanted it all to be real. He thrust against her, ramming her back against her car. She clung to him, murmuring low sounds of pleasure. His cock was so hard he thought he might come right then when she smoothed her hands down the back of his thighs, leaving a trail of heat through his jeans.

Purchase Links:

Amazon | Amazon UK | All Romance eBooks | Evernight Publishing | Bookstrand

About Elodie:

Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal or suspense. Her books are always steamy, cool stories and hot love scenes.

Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.

Elodie writes for, Hot Ink Press, Moon Rose Publishing, Eternal Press, and Evernight

She has also released titles as an individual indie author.

Find Elodie online: Blog  Tumblr  Facebook  Twitter  Google +  Pinterest  YouTube  Amazon USA  Amazon UK  Smashwords  Barnes and Noble  ARe

Elodie is running a giveaway for the book launch. Enter the draw via the rafflecopter with just a comment on the blog, to win a $10 or £10 Amazon gift card.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Pimp My Book: White Sands by Katherine Wyvern

Welcome to Pimp My Book. Today, we have Katherine Wyvern, another kick-as author with Evernight. Their newest release, White Sands (The Cydonian Tales), came out on June 27, 2012. White Sands is the sequel to Black Carnival. They’ve come here to give you a little insight on the novel. Enjoy!

Evernight Publishing’s
Katherine Wyvern

featuring White Sands

BLURB: Ivory Blake is back in NeuVenedig, the city of the erotic Black Carnival, and this time she is not a tourist. As she finally begins to make it as an artist and settle in the local way of life, she is also trying to find again the man she has fallen in love with during the last Carnival, Lune.

Belonging to an artificial breed striving for independence from the stifling laws of the Galactic Union, his life is however in danger, as the leaders of the liberation party die mysteriously one by one.

Romance is easier and more carefree with Lune’s young companion, Laz’law, another acquaintance from the Carnival, and as his two young lovers try to understand the secret of Lune’s life, love, danger and lust bring them all ever closer together.

EXCERPT: I swallowed painfully. He bent his head forward. The water ran down his neck and back, steamy hot now, and the whole misty, watery body-scape changed and shifted. He moaned in pleasure, and then opened his eyes to look at me.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“Nearly,” I said, very faintly.

He grinned and put a hand out towards me; I stepped in with him and into his arms.

A thrill of absolute bliss shook me all over when our skins came together, with nothing in between but the thin sheet of hot water. I opened my lips to kiss his neck, and water flowed from his skin into my mouth, salty at first, and then sweeter and sweeter, as the last sweat was washed from his body. As his arms closed around me and his hands ran wetly along my back, I moaned and went limp against his body, pressing my cheek on his chest and just absorbing the heat of his skin, his muscular closeness, his always surprising tenderness, until the water running down from his chin into my hair flowed into my face, and I had to move to breathe. I put my arms around his neck, and we kissed, water mingling on our lips. It was as if our skins were melting into each other. I held his shoulders and kneaded the taut muscles on his back. I caressed up to his neck and held his face between my palms, stroking the tiny scales on his temples with my thumbs, brushing carefully over the silver studs in his eyebrow.

I wanted to tell him you are so beautiful, but I guessed he would know that already.

“You are so beautiful,” I said anyway, because I could not keep it down. It just bubbled out of me between kisses.

He smiled and did not answer; he was too well aware of his looks to make demure noises, but not so arrogant as to preen and strut at the compliment. He just held me a bit tighter and kissed my neck, biting softly between kiss and kiss, sending a spike of hot desire into my belly. I moaned and rubbed my pelvis against his. His cock hung heavy between us, dark, utterly black now that it was wet, almost completely erect. He was too tall for me to rub my cleft on it, even when I stood on tip toe, lifting a knee up to wrap my leg around his side; he laughed softly and spread his legs wide to lower his crotch somewhat. His hands were on the small of my back, skimming on running water and shivering skin. I pressed my clitoris on his shaft, and it quivered and stiffened under my body. His teeth were almost hurting the flesh of my neck, but that was also good. I moaned again, rubbing my face on his wet shoulder and my nipples on his chest.

When his hand cupped one of my buttocks and squeezed hard and then pulled me even further up, almost lifting me from the floor, I held on to his shoulders and finally folded my other leg around his waist.

He held me up, easily enough. There are some advantages in being ridiculously small.

“If I slip now, we are toast,” he said, with an amused little grin.

“Don’t slip, then.” I spoke very softly into his ear, and then I pushed my tongue in it, which made him laugh and shiver.

I licked the wet convoluted shell of his ear and laid tiny quiet kisses on it until he turned to lay my back against the tiled wall of the shower and pinned me there with his chest, kissing me hard while our bodies searched for each other. It was a bit of blind hide-and-seek down there, without hands, and we were both giggling by the time his glans nudged its way inside me. But when I finally sank into his arms, down along the length of his shaft, we both stopped laughing and sighed heavily at the same time. I squeezed my muscles around him, feeling his once familiar and now newly discovered girth inside me. He made a sound not unlike a little, soft roar which made me almost laugh again, and I held his waist tighter with my legs, amazed by how naturally we seemed to fit into each other. There was no other thought in my mind at all in that moment, just wonder at his indescribable perfection.

His pelvis was rocking me against the wall, softly at first and then faster, and all around me and inside me was slick wetness, and warm hardness. Our mouths met again in kiss after hungry kiss, as he thrust deeper and deeper in me as my body opened to his. Then his neck folded sideways, softly, as if he had gone suddenly wholly limp, his cheek went to rest on my arm where I held on to his shoulders, and a long low wail escaped his parted lips.

I just looked into his face, taking in his abandon like a gift, while his hard member throbbed inside me, and yet another kind of wetness flowed between our joined bodies.

When I kissed his open mouth softly he barely stirred, lost to the world for a long, long moment. I was amazed that he would still hold me up so steadily.

Afterwards, as we stood together, rubbing soap onto each other’s skins, we exchanged tiny kisses, lips on lips. I painted pale, soapy spirals around his nipples, then turned him around and rubbed his muscular back with slick hands, until he leaned face to the wall wholly relaxed, moaning happily.

When he stood under the shower jet to rinse himself, lines of runny foam trailed white on the dark brown of his skin, emphasizing the lean volumes of his chest, belly and hips, the length of his haunches, following the lines of his thighs, and spiraling down along his calves like a creamy caress, like a stream of melting snow that touched his burning, luxuriant darkness for a fleeting moment, lovingly, and then was gone.

Where can you buy White Sands?
Evernight Publisher
All Romance ebooks

Where to Follow Katherine Wyvern:
Facebook Author Page


Want to participate in Pimp My Book? Send a query to Kastil Eavenshade

Release Day! The Wolves of Argonne

The day has finally arrived. This is my proudest moment to date in my writing career. Something I’ve been working toward since the beginning. My own stand alone publication.

It started out as a little idea after I’d planned five stories to work on for NaNo. I finished three of the five stories, worked on the fifth a little and completely blew off the first idea I had made.

Then came a call for submissions I couldn’t resist–Fairytales. I went with my favorite one, Little Red Riding Hood. I had written a noir piece before that went nowhere as far as a published home and I had planned, in the beginning, to twist the fairytale into as many genres and settings as I could. That never quite took off but since my muse was wanking like he’d never touched himself before, I went for erotica.

Quick planning came next. It was NaNo and I couldn’t get too involved with daydream research. You know the kind–drifting along on the internet wasting time looking for the smallest detail to use. I already knew the original story of Red Riding Hood. Being French originally, I took my names from the culture but nothing else. I have a thing about avoiding thick accents and writing them out in a book. To me as a reader, they are cumbersome and sloppy.

Next I did my ‘clever’ name finding by looking up male names that meant ‘wolf’. They would be the naughty males in the story. I originally had three picked out but ended up dropping one of the characters. I wanted it centered around the three main characters (Rosabel, Urlic, and Conall). Putting another in there would push it over, IMO. He was a minor character with no ties to the female lead.

The one thing I want to stress, and have a future blog post about, is this: Don’t let your writing get to your head. The first draft of The Wolves of Argonne was far from perfect. It took a weekend of non-stop, glued to my laptop, writing to get it up to par after a spanking from the editor before the real polishing began. Remember to always put your best foot forward.

And now for the teaser:
The white oak clung desperately to its red leaves on broad branches. Had her day been more carefree, Rosabel would have climbed the lower branches and bask in the warmth from the ascending sun. Instead, she yanked the carrots out of the soil one by one. She paused, feeling a tinge of regret. She was deceiving Nana as much as the old woman was deceiving her.

How much further would she slide down that slippery slope before coming clean?

A brook trailed down along her path, the water skipping over the rock shelf. She lifted her skirts and hopped over. The basket swayed as she hummed to keep away the eerie silence. Her destination lay ahead. She set her harvest down and entered the cave.

Her fingers brushed against the cold stone walls. A few feet in, another torch sat in a sconce much like the other cave. She took the torch out of its holder and placed it on the ground. She fished out a piece of steel and rock from the nook in the wall. Sparks flew after a couple of strikes.

The layout looked much the same, the illustrations lined up in order. Sure, she missed something in the first cave when Ulric had disturbed her; she padded to the last drawing she examined. Next to the depiction of cave scratched into the stone, nothing showed. She whimpered in frustration. Ulric could do wicked manipulations to her and, while it saturated her below just thinking about it, any man having that much control worried her. He desired her but would he love her?

Rosabel sank to the ground. Was love that important to her over the heated passion he offered? Tears ran down her cheeks, her mind furiously trying to think of some way to get her happily ever after with the prince of the woods. He would love her with the depth she felt for him. She had to believe it.

She wiped the moisture off and stared at the crystalline drops. “The parchment.”

The pieces of paper that had fallen out of the book showed her an image when her tears soaked it. She pressed her wet palm to the blank canvas on the wall. Veins formed in the rock, snaking out and darkening in areas. The spider web design matched the vine maze of the older picture with the woman bowed in submission. It glittered in the torchlight, and the woman appeared first, the magical ink spreading quicker. Her werewolf master fleshed out with her pressed against his chest. The red cape flowed out and encompassed another proud male.

Rosabel’s chest heaved as the smoke from the torch melded into the wall forming shadows behind the figures. Three wolves appeared under a full gray moon. She ripped her hand away from the wall and ran to the exit. A blurry form warped in front of her. The torch left her hand. It blazed back in the sconce.

“Princess, princess. Must I keep my eye on you night and day?”

She pressed against the cave wall as the man grinned at her, his hand on the pilfered torch. The same male from her bedroom encounter. He closed the distance between them. Her palms flattened against the stone to suppress the urge to dance her fingers along his flesh. The same urges welled in her again without the aid of the intoxicating moon.

His body molded to hers and she shivered as his restrained but hard cock rubbed near her throbbing sex. She wouldn’t allow him to sway her as before. Rosabel needed to control the insatiable need to mate with another werewolf.

“Why are you here?” She raised her chin and met his lusty stare. “Come to have a taste?”

“Perhaps.” He inhaled, a demure smile on his face. “Are you offering?”

“You know who I belong to.” Her mouth opened just enough to run her teeth along her lower lip. “Who knows what he will do if he catches a whiff of your scent on me.”

“Oh, princess, you don’t know what game you’re playing.” He bared his canines, a low rumble emulating from his belly.

“My name’s not princess, werewolf.” She leaned closer to his face, giving him a sniff to see how he liked it. His exotic fragrance almost had her suckling at his neck to have a taste but she resisted—barely.

“What is your name, my prince’s little plaything?”

“You first.” Her tongue teased her lips again, and she felt his cock jerk against her.
He hissed, his eyes taking the golden tint of his species. Her lips curved into a smile as she ground against his crotch. “After all, you’ve already tasted what I have to offer.”

“Conall.” He brushed a kiss on her ear, and she fisted his shirt, unable contain her desire. Her cloak came free beneath his dexterous work, and one by one, her blouse buttons loosened.

“If he smells you on me….” She squealed as his fingers pinched a nipple.

“He won’t.”

His lips seared her skin. She gasped, her hands seeking his growing bulge. “Your arrogance will be your downfall, Conall.” Her desire peaked but she wanted to dominate the proud male before her. To touch and taste his skin. To hear him murmur her name over and over.

“Call me Rosabel.” Her tongue flicked out across his nipple.

He drew back, his eye heady with desire. “You have no power over me, woman.”

Rosabel revealed nothing beyond her wicked grin and searching hands. With a yank, his cock spilled free of his pants. She chuckled as she sank to her knees. “I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong.”

You can purchase it at Evernight Publishing and Amazon.

I would like to thank Evernight Publishing for this opportunity. I’m very happy to be an author with them.