Undone for New Year!

Happy New Year! Have you made any resolutions? I have to admit I’m not good with keeping my resolutions, so for the last few years, I’ve just stopped making them. Instead I try to make things a habit. I’ve always been a daily walker, but last week, hubby and I have started walking together. We wear our pedometers, and we’re trying to do 20,000 steps daily. That equates to 10 miles. So far we’re doing great! We hope to be healthy and ready for a lot of walking when we go on vacation to Daytona in a couple of months. I’d love to hear about your resolutions, or just things that you want to turn into good habits.

Today marks the release of my Berkley e-special, Undone. This is a fun little story that I wrote for the Unlaced anthology which came out in 2008. The anthology won a Capa Award and the novella itself won the National Readers Choice Award for best novella. I’m so happy that Berkley is putting it out on its own in e-book format. I love this particular story because it’s a May-December romance and my hero Dirk is such a hottie. I hope you’ll think so, too! Here’s a blurb and excerpt for you to enjoy.

 

Margo Faraday is a mortgage broker who’s been off her game ever since her last breakup. She needs help losing her inhibitions and exploring her sensual freedom. So when she sees an ad looking for models to pose for erotic pictures, she knows she’s found the solution. But opening herself up to an amateur photographer who has no limits—and an uncensored appreciation for the female body—will undoubtedly lead to something naughtier than her wildest fantasies…

 

Undone

By Jasmine Haynes

Previously published as part of the Unlaced Anthology

 

Amateur Photographer Looking for the Perfect Model.

 

Ever thought about posing for erotic pictures?  We can start out with you clothed, then various stages of undress until total nudity.  Pose as erotically as you’re comfortable with, perhaps even touch yourself, use a toy or two.  Let your inhibitions go, I want you completely undone for the camera.  The disposition of the pictures is up to you; if you don’t want me to keep any, I won’t.  I’m not looking for a professional model, I want a real woman.  I know you’re out there.

 

The A-frame house nestled among the pine, oak, and redwoods was ablaze with icicle Christmas lights.

 

Of course, once she’d gotten home that night after dinner with her best friend Lorie, Margo had vacillated.  In the end, though, it was the echo of Richard’s accusations that had her finally answering Dirk’s on-line ad for an erotic model.  Her ex-lover Richard claimed she was unwilling to take a chance and worried excessively about what everyone else thought, especially her mother, and her mother’s friends.  That drove him crazy.  It was ultimately why he left.  So now, even if it was just once, she wanted to do something wild and crazy, kinky and hot.  She wanted to prove to herself that Richard was wrong.  She could get down and dirty, and have fun while she was doing it.

 

Parking her sedan by the stand-alone garage, Margo shut off the engine, and the silence of the forest settled in around her.  The house was isolated.  She’d passed several driveways coming up the long, winding road, but the homes were set too far back to see more than a porch lamp beaming through the trees.

 

The boy next door, Lorie called him.  The Christmas lights twinkling along the roofline attested to it.  And Lorie had vouched for him, not to reiterate the fact that Lorie’s brother had known him since college.  Dirk Araman.  The name appealed to Margo in a warrior kind of way.  If someone accosted a woman in the street, a guy named Dirk would run the mugger down.

 

Over the week since she’d e-mailed about his ad, they’d exchanged several e-mails.  He was articulate, funny, and well, sweet.  She felt like she knew him.  Mentioning how she came to see the ad at Lorie’s, she’d asked him to keep it quiet.  She hadn’t actually told Lorie she planned on modeling for Dirk, and explaining herself to best friend now was out of the question.  All right, the secrecy was shades of excessive worrying, but honestly, even Richard would agree she didn’t have to broadcast her intent.  Dirk agreed to keep it to himself.  She also made it abundantly clear that the pictures would be for her use only.  Not for this contest of his, not even for him to keep.

 

She’d told she was forty-five, and though he was twelve years younger, it hadn’t fazed him.  All he wanted was to take her picture while she...  The photos were hers after they’d looked through them together and he’d made all his notes.  He explained about the photography competition, that if he won, he stood to get national attention for his work.  His goal for their session was to work on posing, lighting, and a host of technical jargon that had passed right over her head.  He’d also asked her measurements for some special lingerie he wanted to photograph her in.  The competition was for nude portraits only, but he was honest enough to admit he’d added the erotic part for the titillation factor.  Well, hell, she was in it for the titillation, too.

 

That made them equal perverts.

 

Could she get naked for a stranger?  She took care of herself.  Her breasts were small, but they didn’t sag.  She didn’t consider herself a bad-looking woman.  But it was one thing to say you’d do it, another to actually do it.  And touching herself for him?  A hot shiver raced through her.  Yes, she was nervous, but she wanted it.  The idea was kinky, decadent.  She’d just wasted one precious year ignoring her needs after Richard left, and she wasn’t about to lose another year.

 

Margo threw open the car door and stepped out.  The chilly December night bit through her coat.  Opening the rear door, she stuffed her small purse, phone, and keys in her gym bag, which was packed with makeup (camera lights could be harsh), lingerie (despite his having something special for her to wear), a bottle of wine (she liked the sweet stuff), and her vibrator.  She didn’t know if she could use it for him, yet the fantasy had haunted her.  Her toy had seen extra duty every night this week.

 

The three-story A-frame loomed above her.  A balcony ran the length of the second floor, and the third was obviously a loft.  The scent of wood smoke tinged the air.  Stepping up on the porch, she detected the soft sound of a woman’s musical voice drifting through the panes of opaque glass in the door.

 

This was it, her last chance to rethink.  She might have except for the distant echo of Richard’s voice alleging that, just like her mother, she’d grow old in her pristine, picture-perfect life, and find out she hadn’t done a damn thing with it.  No risks, true, but no rewards either.

 

Margo pressed the bell.

 

A giant answered her ring.  Oh.  My.  God.  Though she was five-six, with four extra high-heeled inches, the man at the door towered over her like the Incredible Hulk.  He had to be at least six-foot-five.  His thighs in black jeans were the size of tree trunks, his chest beneath a red-and-black flannel shirt rippled with muscles, and his hands would span her waist, room leftover.  With a face made up of blunt angles, square jaw, sharp cheekbones, and a slightly crooked nose that had been broken at least once, he looked like the warrior his name implied.

 

Margo clutched her bag to her chest, and her heart pumped fast and hard.  What had she gotten herself into?

 

“I’m glad you didn’t change your mind, Margo.”

 

His voice was liquid smoke easing over her nerve endings.  The stuff of wet dreams, it trickled down her spine, settling between her legs.  She’d always been around average men, and Dirk was anything but average.  Truth to tell, there was something bone-melting about his sheer body mass, all muscle and no fat.

 

He watched her watching him, his eyes an extraordinary shade of blue totally unexpected beneath that short cap of thick, dark sable hair.  “Maybe I should have sent you a picture before you agreed to meet me,” he said.

 

Then he smiled, and Margo’s libido went into overdrive as a single boyish dimple appeared at the left corner of his mouth.  It transformed his face from Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein to...well, Margo didn’t know exactly.  Except that the combination of his smile and size made her panties damp.

 

“You can back out right now, if you want.”  He held the door wide, standing slightly to the side so she could enter. If she wanted.  Yet he didn’t touch her with anything but that smile.

 

Right.  That’s exactly what Richard would expect her to do.  Turn tail and run.  You’re so afraid someone might actually find out you’ve got a dirty mind.  Newsflash, Margo, most people have dirty minds.  You’re nothing special.

 

She realized she’d been staring rudely.  “I’m sorry.  You’re just so...”

 

“Big,” he supplied.  “You’d never believe my mother is only five-foot-one and a hundred and five pounds.”

 

Margo gaped.  “No way.”

 

He nodded, a hank of brown hair falling across his forehead.

 

“What about your dad?”

 

“Five-eight and the proverbial ninety-pound weakling.  He always claimed I belonged to the milkman.”  The dimple appeared again, his blue eyes twinkling like Christmas tree lights, and Margo imagined everyone laughing over the family legend.

 

The night air was creeping beneath her long wool skirt, and all his central heat was whooshing through the wide open door.  She couldn’t take forever to make up her mind.  She’d wanted the titillation of doing something out there and kinky.  She wanted the erotic photos.  She needed to feel alive again, needed a connection.  But whereas before she’d fantasized of stripping down for a total stranger, now she realized she wanted to do it for this man.

 

Dirk Araman held out his hand.  And Margo took it...

 

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. You can find Undone on Kindle Nook Kobo iBookstore All Romance  

 

I want to remind you that Revenge Sex, West Coast Book 1 is free for the holidays! Here’s all the places you can find it free right now: Amazon Kobo Smashwords All Romance and iBookstore. So go out and download, download, download, and feel free to tell all your friends!

 

Your Invitation to Passion!

Thanks to Jay Morgan for joining us last week! And best of luck to him on his new release. Immortally Damned is a fabulous book!

Happy Holidays! The presents are all purchased, but I still have to do the wrapping. We’re doing Christmas down at my mom’s place this year so hubby and I aren’t decorating the house. I don’t think that makes me a humbug, does it? We’re still going to have a ton of fun at Mom’s. Especially with Elvis the Poodle there. Oh my gosh, I forgot to get him a doggie present. Must get that tomorrow! Hope you all are prepared for the holidays, no matter how you celebrate.

First up, I want to remind you that Revenge Sex, West Coast Book 1 is free for the holidays! Amazon price-matched, but I’m still waiting on the Nook. Here’s all the places you can find it free right now: Amazon Kobo Smashwords All Romance and iBookstore. So go out and download, download, download, and feel free to tell all your friends!

And now, I’m pleased to announce that the third and final story from the Open Invitation anthology is out! This sexy, classy cover by Rae Monet is perfect for Invitation to Passion and for Stacy’s story. I really enjoyed writing her tale. Unlike Debbie (Invitation to Seduction) and Virginia (Invitation to Pleasure), Stacy is no neophyte at The Sex Club. I liked being able to explore her…alternative style, let’s say. I just let her go, and boy, did she take me on some adventures! I hope you like Stacy and Jud’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. So let’s get started with a blurb, then the excerpt! And just to warn you, the excerpt is extremely erotic and explicit. Whew, definitely 5 flames on this one, so be warned! And please be 18 or older.

Here’s your invitation to The Sex Club, elegant, classy, sexy, every woman’s fantasy, every man’s desire...

Stacy Parrish surrounds herself with virile young men; she adores their stamina and enjoys tutoring them in the erotic arts. And they help her forget the next birthday. The last thing she wants is a monogamous relationship. But when Judson McCord, owner of The Sex Club, issues a sexual challenge, Stacy can’t resist taking him up on it. In a battle of wills, the stakes are upped each time they’re together, the passion and pleasure between them increasing tenfold. With desire and a passion she can’t resist, Jud determines to show her how truly beautiful, amazing and ageless she is. But can he provide the ultimate pleasure that will make Stacy exclusively his? Or will her quest for ever greater sexual thrills cost Stacy the love of the man standing right in front of her?

Invitation to Passion

Open Invitation, Book 3

Copyright 2012 Jasmine Haynes

A lot of things had changed in the year since Virginia’s wedding, but Stacy Parrish’s taste in lovers wasn’t one of them. She adored younger men, their taut muscles. They had so much more stamina than the older variety and came with ferocity. True, they were quick to jump to the main course, but they were also good at taking hints. Between them, these two lavished her body with attention. What better way to celebrate her upcoming forty-sixth birthday? The husky blond sucked her nipple, testing the tightness with a little bite. She cooed her appreciation. The dark-haired one worked his tongue up her legs, swiping the special pleasure spot behind her knee.

“You boys are doing such a good job,” she murmured. Encouragement always garnered results. She even imagined that their future lovers would thank her for tutoring them in the art of pleasing a woman.

“Thank you, Serena.” That was the name she’d chosen for her visits to The Sex Club. It was best to keep her real life separate from her sojourns to The Sex Club. And just as she used a false name, the boys had dubbed themselves Erik (the Viking blond) and Caesar (the dark satyr).

Caesar nibbled his way up her thigh, pushing her legs apart, his fingers questing. She arched, opening her pussy to the lips within inches of bringing her gratification, and pushed her breast against Erik’s teeth, wrenching a throaty growl from him.

At forty-six her maidenly inhibitions were long gone, and her body was a feast for the two luscious twenty-five-year-olds.

“Your tongue would feel so good on me right now.” She didn’t demand, it wasn’t polite. As soon as Caesar’s tongue found her clitoris, she oohed and aahed her approval. Maybe it was time for her to do a little multitasking. Reaching down, she took Erik’s impressive cock in her hand. Drops of come slid along her palm just as a thick finger plunged deep inside her.

Improvising. Very good. As much as she enjoyed the youthful companions she chose, they were a relatively uninspired lot. She inevitably directed the action. One of these days, she was hoping for someone to surprise her with his ingenuity.

For now, she’d enjoy what she had. “Use your fingers, too.” It was good to let them know that fingers and tongues together were as enjoyable as a thick cock. Caesar’s blunt fingers filled her, while his tongue played her like an instrument.

She moaned, writhed, and squeezed the hard cock. Erik groaned and pumped in her fist, his mouth remaining locked to her breast. Sensation jolted from her nipple to her pussy.

Stacy opened her eyes to gaze at the tableau in the mirror above the bed. Her red hair fanned the satin pillow, the burgundy comforter in deep contrast to the tanned bodies draping her torso and thighs. One dark head wedged between her legs, the light one moving from one breast to the other. Her slightly parted lips glistened, her lipstick matching the bedspread’s color. She pushed on Erik’s shoulder, dislodging him just enough to see her fingers wrapped tightly around his mammoth cock, her manicured nails looking dangerous against his aroused flesh. The decadent scene shot her higher toward bliss, her body dripping with desire. Her first orgasm of the night rippled through her. It was good. But the next one could be so much better.

Still, she murmured her approval. “Have I told you yet how magnificent you are?”

“Yes, Serena,” they said in unison.

Rolling, she came to her hands and knees, another mirror along the wall revealing the lithe length of her body. She held up a condom like a treat. “Anyone interested?”

Her obedient lovers moved quickly. Without even fighting about it, Erik positioned himself in front of her, holding his cock out like a reward. Caesar rose to his knees behind her, rolled on the condom, then spread her legs to tease her pussy with the head of his imposing member.

The mirror reflected the beauty of those two steel rods.

She licked her lips, then parted them, salivating over the sight of the tiny drop of come oozing from the slit of Erik’s cock as he worked himself for her pleasure. Caesar’s hands on her hips positioned her.

Then they both hit home, a delicious penis in her mouth, an equally delectable cock hitting high in her pussy with one thrust. Tilting her head slightly to better view the mirror, she watched the two perfect male tools sliding, in, out, in, out, a mastery of sexual choreography.

Perfect, boys, absolutely perfect. She’d tell them later.

Then she closed her eyes, giving herself up to the pleasure of total penetration. Salty pre-come coated her tongue. She took Erik in all the way, working the muscles of her throat in time with his groans. She rode Caesar’s cock, slamming back against his hard pelvis, her rhythm flawless.

The echo of masculine groans and her feminine moans filled the room. The aphrodisiac scent of sex, male sweat, and her own light seductive musk wafted around them. If she could bottle the fragrance, she’d make a million. If she could cage these superlative animals, she’d have heaven on earth.

She squeezed the ball sack dangling in front of her, feeling Erik’s approaching orgasm. He pumped harder, faster, without restraint. She drank from him, urging him closer.

Caesar slid a hand down her belly and parted the lips of her sex, gliding in all her moisture. Her clitoris throbbed, begged. She panted. Caesar didn’t need much tutoring at all. As he stroked her clit, his body stiffened, and his penis pulsed inside her, gathering steam for his impending explosion.

Then she had the most marvelous idea. She let the lovely instrument of pleasure drop from her lips and pried the hands from her hips. “I’ve just had a brainstorm.”

Erik groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“No, boys, I’m not. This will be better.” So much better for all of them. “Let’s do a sandwich.”

“You wanna eat at a time like this?”

Caesar shoved his partner’s arm. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. She means she wants to be in the middle.”

Lord. They were young. She had to give them a little leeway because of their age. “In front of the mirror, boys.”

They clambered from the bed, eager to please. Stacy enjoyed the power in getting them to stave off their own orgasm. In return, she’d give them something incredible.

The floor-to-ceiling mirror covered the center portion of the wall. She knew it was two-way, and she wondered if someone was watching tonight. No, she knew someone watched. A thrill quivered through her belly, weakening her limbs. God, she wanted to give the performance of her life. That’s what sex was for her, each and every act being the ultimate performance.

She gave her profile to the mirror, then smiled. “You in front.” She grabbed a condom, then took Erik by his cock and situated him facing her. She wiggled her butt for Caesar.

“Enter me at the last minute,” she told him, handing him a tube of lubricant, “at the perfect moment.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her lovely dark warrior nestled up against her ass, his cock, already dressed with a condom and now the lube, riding the base of her spine.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, her gaze on the blue flames in her Viking’s eyes. His condom was donned with the dexterity of frequent deployment, then she felt herself lifted from behind and supported by Caesar’s rock hard chest as she wrapped her legs around her Norseman’s waist. He impaled her, holding her hips to pump like a madman. She raised her arms, looping them behind Caesar’s neck. Each pound inside her body rammed her against the cock sitting just above her ass. Powerful legs framed her bottom, steadying her to receive while at the same time rocking his flesh between their bodies. He pinched her nipples, hard, almost painfully, and sent a surge of heat and lightning shooting down to her clit. Supported by strong arms, she followed the lightning strike, circling her fingers over her clitoris and building her body’s tension even higher.

She started to pant and moan. Colors swirled behind her eyelids as her fingers multiplied all the sensations.

“Now,” she cried. Just as her orgasm rose to the peak, rushing to each and every separate nerve ending, her dark lover entered her from the rear. She screamed, the pleasure-pain of double penetration unbearable. Then Erik slammed home into her pussy, deep, high, hard, one last time, and filled the room with his roar. Lights burst behind her lids, and she came in a miasma of blinding flashes.

She opened her eyes to the mirror, those beautiful young bodies tangled about her. She didn’t even remember falling to the soft carpeting. Breathing deeply, she arched, relishing the delicious ache in her muscles. Then she collapsed back into the heap of bodies. Ah yes, they were spent, their limbs lax, their mouths open to drag in air.

Stroking her fingers through their luscious locks, she whispered, “You were both wonderful.”

She lay there in the lee of their bodies for long, sated minutes, until their respective breaths eased back to normal. And that was long enough. The best way to end a rendezvous was at its height, before the rapture of orgasm completely faded.

“You know, boys, I’d like a moment by myself to recover.”

As one, they rolled to their knees, glorious animals. Erik shook his shaggy mane. Caesar grabbed his cock to remove the used condom. They both disposed of the remains in the provided receptacles, then turned to the piles of shed clothing.

“Thanks, Serena.”

“It was great, Serena.”

She smiled at their good manners. “You’re both going to make fantastic lovers for some very happy women.” She hoped her small hints added to their future bliss.

Propping herself on her elbow, she watched in the mirror as lean yet well-muscled limbs disappeared into black slacks and white dress shirts, though the club didn’t have a dress code, and clothing ranged from casual to ball-gown fancy. People came here for a variety of reasons, to have a diversity of needs met. Neither of these two hunky specimens would leave feeling used by what she’d done with them. Quite the opposite, she was sure. They were equals in what they’d all received from the encounter.

This was the way she liked it. A swift end to a friendly assignation. Everybody went away happy, and no messy emotions to deal with later on. In her twenties, she’d desperately desired love. Yet what she’d gotten was more heartache than joy. She’d searched for Mr. Right, only to learn he didn’t exist, at least not for her. Thank God she’d discovered she didn’t need him anyway.

She’d found her true calling in life, talking with women, getting them to open up. What she offered was more than a manicure. It was hearing them, learning, and yes, God, helping them. She never judged, she listened. Many found what they needed through the simple act of sharing. Others needed a little extra help, and she did whatever she could, in any way necessary. She’d supported herself, but even more, she gave to those women. She’d made lasting friends. That was what was important to her.

The door snicked shut as her boys departed, and she turned to her reflection, arching her neck and stroking a hand down her throat. She was agile and strong from her daily workouts, the skin of her face smooth from her regimen of moisturizers. But it was a fact of life. She was forty-six, and she wouldn’t have this body or face forever. Which was why she made the most of what The Sex Club had to offer the two or three times a month she ventured here. She didn’t want to leave any wild oats unsown, and that left myriad possibilities, like the sandwich she’d just partaken of. It had been good, very good. The boys had certainly been surprised and appreciative.

But sitting before the mirror in a now empty room, the languidness of orgasm almost faded, she couldn’t help wondering what was around the corner for her. She could only hope there were other, more exciting things waiting. Wilder oats to sow.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she stretched her arms out before her, releasing the kinks in her back, then perused her reflection once more.

Oh yes, no matter her age, she still had a few surprises out there for some lucky young sex club attendees. And maybe, if she was lucky, one or two of them would have a surprise for her.

Whew, that was naughty! But that’s Stacy for you! If you’d like to read about Jud’s reaction to watching her, pop over to my website to read the next scene. You can find Invitation to Passion on Kindle Kindle UK Kobo Nook Nook UK Smashwords All Romance. iBookstore coming soon!

If you missed the first two stories, you can find Invitation to Seduction, Book 1 on Kindle Kindle UK Nook Nook UK iBookstore All Romance Smashwords Sony and Invitation to Pleasure, Book 2 on Kindle Kindle UK Kobo Nook Nook UK iBookstore All Romance Smashwords.

And a reminder, I’ve discounted Twisted by Love, Reincarnation Tales 1, for the holidays! Kindle Kindle UK Nook Nook UK Kobo iBookstore All Romance Smashwords.


Welcome J. Morgan!

I’d like to welcome J. Morgan, a tremendously funny guy (he’s always got me in stitches) and a great writer. Thanks so much for joining me and my readers on the blog, J! Without further ado, I’ll turn the stage over to him!

Sometimes, you just have to show your serious side. That might sound easy for most people. If you've read any of my books, you know that's harder than you think, especially if your name is J. Morgan. Which my name just so happens to be. Funny how that always seems to happen when I'm talking about myself in the third person. Then again, I am the self professed king of romantic comedy. If that is indeed the case, how could a king of comedy come up with a book with the unlikely title, Immortally Damned? Because, if you would be so kind as to reference the above opening sentence, you'll have your answer.

As a writer, any writer, I think you need to grow in your craft. Evolve, if you will. My evolution started nearly four years ago, when I started working on the first book in the Amor Immorati series, Immortally Yours. After writing a couple comedies, I found I wanted to write a modern fairy tale, but with a twist. Gotta love those twists. The result was a book about a Greek Warrior cursed to live forever. So what do you do when you're immortal and have done everything? You open a detective agency with your best friend, who just so happens to be a half-vampire. Chase's story revolved around him first hunting down a fairy princess then protecting her. Falling in love with her came as a nice bonus. I know that's a pretty vague synopsis, but this blog isn't about Immortally Yours.

Immortally Damned took two years before I finally sat down and began writing. Why? Because, I knew Caern's story would put me through the ringer, and more importantly, I needed to grow in my craft to do it justice. Believe me, it's hard to make a comedian tap his serious side. Comedians write comedy to avoid our dark places, not jump headfirst into them. Immortally Damned took me right into the deep end, and took me nine months to climb back out of it. After nearly one hundred and fifty thousand words, you can understand my trepidation on moving on to the third book in the trilogy.

But, what is Immortally Damned about? Redemption. Every character in this book has fallen as far as they can go. For different reasons, they're lost. Caern most of all.

Caern is half vampire, an oddity among the Blood. Lured away from the priesthood by Katyarina, a full Blood and queen of the New Orleans vampires, Caern throws away his safe existence in the name of love. You can probably guess what happens. Their romance ends in tragedy. When she reveals that she is pregnant with his child, her half-brother Augustine, the Zombie King of New Orleans, orders his death. Caern is driven from New Orleans on pain of death if he ever returns. You know. That would make a great book all by itself, but that's just the back story.

Scroll ahead a hundred years or so, and the real story opens. Katyarina sends him a message that she needs him. Dragged back into the world he swore to never return to, Caern must track down a murderer out to kill the great grand-daughter he thought he'd never meet. You know how these things go. He hooks up with Elisa Marrone, a detective with the New Orleans police department, who has lost her faith in just about everything. Together they search for the killer before he can strike again.

From that you get the idea. Love is about to hit the fan. Well, that's better than the other thing hitting the fan. But, why not just write the first story? Because, sometimes, it's not the story of how a character got to where he's going that makes the more interesting read. It's how they overcome who they've become that is worth telling. George Lucas taught me that. But, you have my word, no prequels.

Love is a fight, even without vampires and zombies muddying the waters. You fight to find it. You fight to keep it. Most of all, you fight to make it work in spite of the world doing its best to derail it every chance it gets. Truly great Romance gives you that struggle. Makes you feel every agonizing second of it, and if it is really great, makes you fall in love for the first time all over again. That is the true gift of Romance, and I hope in some small way to give my readers a taste of the first kiss they ever experienced, or that first racing heartbeat from seeing their first love for the first time. It's invoking those emotions that make authors do what we do. Because, with every book, we relive those experiences ourselves. So, when you get right down to it, love is the one redeeming quality we all share, and strive to recapture every chance we get.

As you read my excerpt from Immortally Damned, I hope you relive the love that taught you magic was truly alive and only a first kiss away. This is a bit of that back story I went on and on about. It might not be that first kiss that lasts forever, but it is a moment that forever changes. Maybe not as good as a first kiss, but still something that never goes away.

Amor Immorati

Book Two

Immortally Damned

By

J. Morgan

From: Deserting Breeze Publishing

Caern swore to never return to New Orleans, his death warrant making the choice easy. Well, easy until his past returns to smack him around. Now, he has to return to the one place where death isn't a possibility, it's a guarantee. And only a matter of time. Searching to find a murderer out to kill the grandchild he never thought to meet, he finds himself falling into a hell he just might not be able to crawl free of. His only hope lies in Detective Eliza Marrone. Falling for her isn't in the cards, but his heart tells him it might be the only thing he can't escape. Zombies, old lovers and psychopathic vampire clergy, yeah those are things he can deal with. True love on the other hand is the one thing he's always avoided. This time there's no way out. It might get him killed, or end up saving his wretched soul.

Excerpt

Louisiana, 1762

His fingers shook as he flipped the ancient paper of the Gospel before him. Caern knew the page was much too brittle to take the rough handling his current state of mind put him in. If he could, he would have set the manuscript aside and returned to it in the morning. Darkness had fallen over an hour ago. Any minute now, she would return, as she had every night for the last month. The Holy Scriptures had become his only futile grasp at salvation. As long as he kept them close, he could defend himself against the emotions she awoke within him. Caern knew her to be a servant of Satan. Perhaps that fact alone was why he found it harder and harder to resist her. In vespers just the day before last, her name had come from his lips instead of the litany that should have been coming from him.

Father Blaque had not been amused when he had admitted the aberration during confession. His knees still bore the wounds from his acts of contrition. As did his throat from all the Our Fathers he uttered until the early morning hours. His brother had been suitably alarmed that an agent of the Morningstar had invaded their retreat. Caern thanked God above the sanctity of the confessional prevented Father Blaque from divulging the matter to the other monks. He had left it to Caern's conscience to decide to inform the rest of the brothers. As of yet, his conscience had remained silent on the matter. A sin of omission to be sure, but a sin nonetheless. It did not matter God had forgiven him under the sacrament of confession.

Closing the manuscript, Caern watched the flickering light of his candle. It offered no more comfort than had the scriptures he found harder to cling to for some semblance of hope. He must admit she had surely bedeviled him. His soul was forfeit to the damnation she offered. In truth, he wanted her. Wanted her as he had wanted nothing else in this life. Instead of God, he now worshiped the thought of her. His soul prayed for her nightly visits. Even now, it cried out, afraid tonight would be the night she decided to stop playing this wicked game with him. That she would see him for what he was, a pitiful priest unworthy of her attentions.

His gaze wandered to the window. Its clear view of the landscape beyond only confirmed his fears. If she had been coming, she would have been here by now. It was already past her usual time to torture him with her presence. His body shook with his need to see her. His mind conjured her scent and tantalized him with the ghost of it in his nose. He closed his eyes so he could imagine her as he had last seen her. She had been clothed in fabric so sheer he drank in her nudity barely hidden beneath it. His lips went dry picturing her perfect breasts straining against the cloth. He shivered as his imagination took him further down her body to the glimpse of her womanhood that still made him hard, even in his fevered thoughts.

"Oh, sweet Jesus. Do not desert your humble servant to his sin. Deliver me from these thoughts that overwhelm me and take me from You." He dropped his head. "Save me, dear Lord. Save me from myself."

"Why so ever would He do that, my love?" And, she appeared.

Available December 11th

From: Desert Breeze Publishing

http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-387/Amor-Immorati-Book-Two-cln-/Detail.bok  

Also Available through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iBooks

Don’t miss the first book in the series, Immortally Yours: Desert Breeze  Amazon  Barnes and Noble  iBooks  

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Here's your Invitation to Pleasure!

Happy Holidays! Did you get all your holiday shopping done on Black Friday?! I did go to the stores, and made some purchases, but I’ve still got so much more to buy! Whew, the holidays are a busy time. But I’ve got some fun things to tell you about today.

For the whole month of December, stop by the 69 Shades of Smut Blog for a month of holiday giveaways! Wed, 12/6, I'm up, offering a drawing for a copy of  Invitation to Seduction. So stop on by! I also want to invite you back next week for my special guest Jay Morgan! Read more at http://www.freewebs.com/jmorganslair/.

For the holidays, Revenge Sex, West Coast Book 1 is be free! I’m trying to price-match it on Amazon, but they haven’t dropped it to free yet. And hopefully by the end of the week, it will be up for free on Nook. In the meantime, you can find it on Kobo Smashwords All Romance and iBookstore.

Next, I’ve discounted Twisted by Love, Reincarnation Tales 1, also for the holidays! If you haven’t read it, here’s where you can find it at the discounted price. Kindle Kindle UK Nook Nook UK Kobo iBookstore All Romance Smashwords.

And now, for your reading pleasure, I’ve released the second book from the Open Invitation anthology, Invitation to Pleasure, with another sexy, classy cover by Rae Monet. As I’ve told you all before, I’m proud that the book won the Holt Medallion in 2006, a very prestigious prize. Last blog, I gave you an excerpt from Debbie’s story, Invitation to Seduction. Hopefully you’ll recall elegantly dressed Virginia from that excerpt. It was her bachelorette party the three friends (which included Stacy from the upcoming Invitation to Passion) attended at, yes, a sex club! After writing Debbie’s story, I made myself totally curious about why Virginia would have a bachelorette party at such a venue. And why she’d did what she did there. You don’t have to read Invitation to Seduction to find out what she did. I’ll tell you in her story as well. I really loved writing about a married couple. We skip all the dating and the evolution of the marriage proposal, but the real romancing doesn’t start until after they married. So let’s get started with a blurb, then the excerpt!

Here’s your invitation to The Sex Club, elegant, classy, sexy, every woman’s fantasy, every man’s desire...

Virginia Hansen sees herself as a three-time loser in marriage, each time confusing the passion and lust of immediate attraction for lasting love, with disastrous results. For her fourth trip down the aisle, she demands stability and companionship, without passion or lust clouding her judgment. But Virginia will soon discover that trying to harness her deep-seated sexual needs is like trying to tell a raindrop not to fall. Buried inside, Virginia has overpowering desires and the need for a man’s seduction to turn her inside out. When she begins craving seduction from her new husband, her carefully constructed, stable world might very fall apart.

Brett Branoff has finally found the right woman. Everything in his life is about his career, even down to his choice of wife, and Virginia has the same needs and goals as he does. He’s willing to bank his sexual desires and forgo the bedroom fireworks to accommodate the perfect, self-assured, even-tempered wife. But when Brett uncovers the hidden wanton beneath Virginia’s elegant business suits, everything he thought he wanted pales in comparison to his newfound desires. Brett soon discovers that perfunctory sex once a week isn’t enough to satisfy him, not when he knows that Virginia is capable of so much more. Now he plans on sending his wife an invitation to pleasure she simply can’t refuse.

Invitation to Pleasure

Open Invitation, Book 2

Copyright 2012 Jasmine Haynes

He was on fire, aching with an unbearable need he couldn’t quench. But he didn’t touch himself. When he came, he wanted her to be watching.

For now, all he could do was clench a fist on the window’s sill and drink in the sight of her, the scent of her sweet come, the echo of her passion ringing in his ears.

She’d touched herself in every imaginable position. Her juices on the bed, coating her thighs, shimmering on her fingers.

He’d seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but this was new. This was an abandon he’d never before witnessed, never before worshipped. She played her body like a maestro. She knew how to bring herself to the brink and not go off, how to keep herself rising and falling until the inevitable orgasm shot her into the heavens. He’d thought about taking her, shoving his cock deep inside her as she knelt before him on the bed. She’d teased every man in the room with that ass as she’d fucked herself with her fingers. Rules be damned, he’d almost gone in there and taken her. Earlier in the evening he might have done just that without a second thought.

The last half hour had changed his strategy. There was so much more beneath her elegant business suit than he’d imagined. So much passion he’d never dreamed she possessed. He would have that woman. He would give her unimaginable pleasure.

And that would take a foolproof plan to get her to reveal her inner self completely to him.

Brett Branoff eased back from the window, fading into the shadows along the wall, and left the room. When he’d decided to follow her, it was to find out why his serene, ladylike, not particularly sexual fiancé had chosen The Sex Club as the party place for her final unmarried night, a fact he’d inadvertently stumbled upon. He wasn’t a jealous man in the main, but he had to admit to a certain inexplicable tension riding him until he realized her rendezvous was with herself. Now, he wanted to learn more about Virginia’s deepest desires. She liked to watch. More, she liked to be watched, something that appealed to his sexual nature. He’d unearthed something so much more intriguing than he’d ever expected.

Tomorrow, he would make Virginia Hansen his wife.

Then he’d find a way to release the woman he’d discovered at The Sex Club.

So there’s your introduction to Virginia’s husband-to-be! Believe me, Brett has some very erotic things in mind for his bride. You can find Invitation to Pleasure on Kindle Nook Smashwords and All Romance. The other venues are currently processing, but will be up soon.

And if you missed Book 1 in the series, Invitation to Seduction is available on Kindle Kindle UK Kobo Nook All Romance and Smashwords. I plan on having Invitation to Passion (Stacy’s story) out by Christmas. My DH is going to proof and format it for me! What a guy!