Night with a Dom releases on March 16th
I am so excited about this story and can’t wait to share it with everyone. Next week I’ll post an exclusive blurb.
Blurb Night with a Dom
On New Year’s Eve workaholic Melody Manning is informed by her ex he’s getting married. Devastated by the news, she blames the slave-driver tactics of her former boss for her break up.
To release the heartbreak and provide herself with some much needed stress relief, she enlists the help of an exclusive matching agency specializing in one-night stands.
At the Castillo Resort and Winery in Sonoma Valley, Mel meets the mysterious Dom who has agreed to the last minute rendezvous. The sexy masked Master promises to get to the bottom of Mel’s guilt and provide ultimate satisfaction under the safety of his stern hand.
After an emotional night of submission and uninhibited passion, will her lover’s unmasking lead to the end of their encounter or give Mel another chance at love?
Major Love ~~~ Major Romance
Prior to becoming a writer of romantic fiction, Casea Major worked in the legal field for a non-profit dispute resolution company for ten years. She is now a full-time mom to three preschool children with whom she and her husband live happily…most of the time. When she isn’t chained to her laptop, she enjoys Cary Grant movies and crocheting.
Tuesday’s Tales – Discovery(ies)
When last we left Debbie Jenkins, she had just received an invitation for a drink from her boss– her very hot, newly single, boss she has secretly been in love with for five years.
You can catch up with the story’s previous episodes Here and Here.
He leaned her back into the pillows, and his hand drifted like a summer breeze under her shirt to caress her breast. Her eyes fluttered back in her head. His cool silky fingers slid behind her back and with one flick released the hooks on her bra. Deb gasped. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. The moment couldn’t have been choreographed more deftly by Ang Lee.
As his palm stroked her exposed nipple –
A blood curdling scream echoed down the hall.
****
Oh crap! Chills ran across Debbie’s skin as the frantic scream rang out. Olivier jumped up from the sofa. Buttons shot in different directions as her cotton blouse popped under the pressure.
“Shit!” She scrambled up from the compromising position.
Olivier took one regretful glance at her bare chest and tossed her his jacket before he ran toward the scream. Debbie sat up and adjusted the torn blouse then wiped the corners of her lips that still tingled from his expert kiss.
Her chest rapidly rose and fell but she wasn’t sure if it was from her make out session with the boss or her fear that something was terribly wrong. Because something was wrong. Aside from the blood-curdling scream, the hairs stood on the back of her neck and a dark feeling that she was being watched confirmed the fact that all was not right.
She slipped her arms in his jacket and followed after him.
Even before she left her mom with the kids something had just felt…off. She couldn’t explain it any more than she could deny it.
The quiet murmur of voices and a flickering light spilled into the shadowed hall. Debbie’s heart thumped as muffled sobs echoed over the main entrance of the museum. What in the hell? She stepped into the marble floored lobby.
A group huddled around something on the floor by the Pre-Columbian wing caught her attention. Her ballerina flats clip-clopped in the wide space as she hurried to inspect. Olivier spoke into his phone. Even in the dim lighting his tan face appeared pale. His hushed voice quivered as he spoke in French.
Marvin the night watchman held his wife Melanie, who lay limp in his arms. My God, what happened? He walked her toward the lounge at the other end of the building.
Sam ushered them from the room and turned when he heard her footsteps. “Debbie, stay back you don’t want to see this.”
What the hell was he still doing here? “Why? What is it?”
He rushed toward her and blocked her access. Debbie craned her neck to see around Sam’s thin frame.
All the blood in her body fell to her feet and a wave of horror gripped her spine sending chills over her skin. “Ohmygod!
That’s Isell Ansler.”
Her gaze fell to the floor staring into the lifeless eyes. The woman’s blood spilled over the grey marble and reflected the emergency lighting with a sickening hue of crimson. Debbie’s arms and legs trembled. She stumbled and fell into
Sam’s chest.
“Whoa there, Jenkins. I got you.” His hands caught her by the shoulders and steadied her.
Her mouth filled with bile, and her stomach heaved. Champagne and strawberries spewed out over Sam’s white Oxford.
“Ewww…Jenkins, couldn’t you turn your head.” He let go of her and shook his hands like girl.
“Oh God, Sam. I’m so sorry. What happ—” She turned from the sight of the dead woman and came face to face with Olivier. His eyes blazed with fury and she shrank back.
“You need to go home, Deborah.” His gaze landed on Sam and uncomfortable silence stretched between the two men.
Debbie gulped and glanced back to Sam whose face lined in defiance. The two men stood in their silent faceoff for a long moment. None of the situation made any sense. A dead woman and the two men were in a standoff.
The sounds of approaching sirens cut through the tension.
Olivier blinked. “Sam, take Deborah home, please.”
Invisible bands of anxiety clamped around her throat and she barely spoke the words. “I can drive myself home, but shouldn’t I stay to talk with the police?”
Both men yelled in unison, “No.”
“Okay….” Her voice squeaked and her head spun out of control. What the hell?
Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her down the back hall. “Do you need to get anything?”
“My purse.”
He slipped into her office, grabbed her leather bag, then took her hand and ushered her quietly out the employee’s entrance. He pulled out his keys and pressed the remote to unlock his new midsized SUV. Some brand she didn’t recognize with a trident thingy emblem.
She slipped into the supple leather seat. The smell reminded her of Italian designer shoes.
Sam started the car and pulled onto the street. He drove several miles before turning on his headlights. The stench of strawberry vomit filled the cab of the car.
“Do you mind if I stop at my place to change? It’s just around the corner.”
“Sure. Are you gonna to tell me what’s going on? Who killed Mrs. Ansler?”
Sam didn’t speak, but he shot her a glance and surveyed her outfit. Torn shirt, boss’ jacket. It didn’t take a mathematician to figure it out. She swallowed hard.
“Debbie, you have no idea what you’ve gotten into. Why couldn’t you have just stayed home? I’m busting my ass to protect you and you’re getting nice and cozy with the enemy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ansler. That’s what I’m talking about.” His voice roared through the cab. ”I think he killed his wife or had her killed.” He beat his hand against the steering wheel. “Shit. Very unfortunate. And now my cover’s blown.”
“Sam, you’re talking and all I hear is blah, blah blah. Could you please speak in effin’ English? What the hell is going on?”
He pulled sharply into a parking garage of a high-rise, squealed his wheels into a space and jumped out. She followed him to an elevator. “Are you going to answer my question?”
He stared at her. “I work for the FBI. I’ve been deep undercover for the past few months.”
“What—”
The elevator opened they stepped out. Two brawny men at the end of the hall took one look and started toward them in a sprint.
“Shit.” Sam pushed her back in the elevator and beat on the button until the door closed. “When we hit the garage duck down as low to the ground as you can and run like hell to my car.”
Come back next week to find out what happens. Thanks so much for stopping by, please leave me a comment. You can find more great Free reads HERE at the Tuesday’s Tales Blog.
Join me at Pimpin’ Reads for an Excerpt of One Knight in Brooklyn
So excited about my new release One Knight in Brooklyn with Decadent Publishing.
I am at Pimpin’ Reads today with a steamy excerpt. Come by and say ‘hi’. http://jowannashotromances.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-night-in-brooklyn-by-casea-major.html
Thanks again, you guys!
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Knight-Brooklyn-Night-Stand-ebook/dp/B005T4XYK0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317953166&sr=8-1
RELEASE DAY — One Knight in Brooklyn is here!
Today is the day! So excited about my new release One Knight in Brooklyn with Decadent Publishing. Thanks to all my friends and critique partners who helped to make this fun, sexy, story what it is. Thanks to the wonderful folks at Decadent – Dara England for one of the loveliest covers I’ve ever seen. Valerie Mann for creating the 1NS series editing, informing and general hand-holding. Thanks to Heather B. and Lisa O. for making Decadent a place with which I am proud to be associated.
Please take a look at this great story. (I’m not just saying that ’cause I wrote it. It really is very good.)
I am posting today over at the 1NS Blog. Come by and say ‘hi’. http://decadent1nightstand.blogspot.com/
For a chance to win a Free copy join me today at http://www.joannekenrick.com/
Thanks again, you guys!
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Knight-Brooklyn-Night-Stand-ebook/dp/B005T4XYK0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317953166&sr=8-1
Tomorrow’s the day — One Knight in Brooklyn is almost here!
My new release One Knight in Brooklyn with Decadent Publishing is almost here.
Please take a look at this great story. (I’m not just saying that ’cause I wrote it. It really is very good.)
I am posting today over at Jenna’s Journal. Come by and say ‘hi’.
An Artful Kiss
When last we left Debbie Jenkins, she had just received an invitation for a drink from her boss– her very hot, newly single, boss she has secretly been in love with for five years.
Debbie flew out of the women’s bathroom and clipped across the marble floor in the Impressionist wing, which sat adjacent to the executive offices. The light of the emergency exit cast a faint glow over the darkened room.
She jerked open the heavy wooden door to the back hall, and a man fell through the threshold, knocking her to the ground.
He landed on top of her but grabbed her head and was able to save it from hitting the floor. Unfortunately, the spill brought their lips together in an awkward kiss. A jolt of static electricity coursed through her at the point of contact. Deb shoved the gangly body off her chest and coughed, slapping at the man and trying to regain her breath.
Surprised brown-eyes rounded behind thick black-rimmed glasses. Sam. Debbie threw her head back, drew in a deep breath, and sighed.
“Oh Deb, I’m so sorry. I— I didn’t see you. And y— you opened the door right when I was walking through it.”
He seemed apologetic but made no move to let her up. Sam was the geeky assistant curator who’d asked her out his first day on the job two years ago and at least once a week since then, never taking ‘no’ for an answer.
“Can I get up?”
He rolled off of her, and she scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing here this late?”
He blushed and diverted his gaze.
Shit. Was he trying to stalk her again? Though Deb considered him more of a nuisance than a threat, it really annoyed her that he always seemed to pop up.
“W—Well, Debbie, I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here so late? I thought you were off for a couple of days?”
“Are you keeping tabs on me again, Sam?” The frustration in her voice must’ve come through, because he smiled.
He loved to agitate her. It was so juvenile. Like the first grade boy who pulls the pigtails of the girl he secretly likes. Only Sam’s attraction for her was no secret. Everyone in the museum knew of it.
He grinned. “One of these days, Debbie, you’re going to really see who I am, and then you’ll agree to go out with me. When that happens, I just hope I still want to go out with you.” He stood and brushed the dust from his fully buttoned white oxford shirt.
“Right, Sam. I’ll let know on that one.”
“Didn’t you feel the chemistry between us when our lips met?”
Deb rolled her eyes and pushed past him. She heard him chuckle as the door slammed behind her.
Standing before the Curator’s Office, she nervously pressed the wrinkles from her clothes and straightened her hair. With a light rap on the door, she entered Olivier’s lair.
Her heartbeat shot to the vaulted ceiling as she stepped into the sleek modern office. She’d only been there twice before and never alone.
A linear chrome and glass desk sat away from the far wall. The workspace had no drawers and hardly a paper cluttered the top. A high-backed white leather chair was perched behind the desk and against the side wall rested a skillfully decorated bookshelf filled with various artifacts and reference books. How did the man get anything accomplished in such a pristine environment? Not a pencil was out of place.
To the left and near the windows a clean-lined white leather sectional sat in front of a rolling caddy. A bottle of champagne, two flickering tapered candles, and two fluted glasses rested near a plate of fresh strawberries on the portable bar.
Elegantly smattered about the room were various sculptures and works of art Olivier had procured over the years, some of them famous and worth millions.
The light glowed under the door of his private bath, and the sound of running water indicated he was freshening himself. Likely trying to remove the red wine stain from his suit.
Deb strolled to the sofa and tried to sit in a flattering position. That was a joke. She fidgeted with her watch, her earrings, and the hem of her blue cotton top. From the glass tray she took a strawberry and leaned back against the plush throw pillows, bouncing her knees up and down.
Olivier opened the door and strode out of the restroom, wiping his hands on a dark gray towel with red stripes. When he saw her he smiled and tossed the towel back in the bath. His rich velvet French/Dutch accent rolled off his tongue like sweet nectar. “Ah, Deborah. I’m glad you came.”
His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He pinned her with his gaze as his graceful gait carried him across the room in three strides. His finesse and refinement sent a sexy chill down her spine.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
The precision with which he filled the crystal flutes with champagne and slid next to her caused her chest tighten.
Maybe this was a mistake. “I shouldn’t stay long. I—”
His fingers reached out to shush her mouth, and he handed her a glass. “Nonsense. There will be plenty of time for work.” Tingles shot through her lips at his touch.
God almighty, his onyx eyes sparkled. The subtle scent of sandalwood emanated from his freshly shaven face. Deb took a big swig of champagne and tried to remember to breathe. Everything about this man subtly suggested luxury. There was nothing second-class about him.
“I am glad you are here to celebrate this night with me, Deborah.”
He slid closer to her.
Her voice squeaked. “Sure.” And a rush of warmth flushed her face.
The candlelight flickered off the silver of his sideburns as he reclined next to her. “How old are you?”
“Huh? Oh, uhh…twenty-five.”
Sexy mischief danced over his features. “And how do you feel about older men, Deborah?”
Oh shit! “Whaddaya mean?”
He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her face close to his. His cool fingers cause goose bumps to rise over her arms, and the protrusion of her taut nipples strained her shirt.
His whispered words tickled across her cheek as he leaned toward her. “What do I mean? I mean to kiss you long and deep like I have wanted to for the last five years.”
“Ohh—” Her answer was lost as his mouth engulfed hers. Smooth and soft his lips caressed and teased her in exquisitely slow graceful movements. She parted her lips for his gentle tongue that stole in to explore her. The essence of strawberries and champagne filled her senses.
Her arm wrapped around his lean back, and she pulled closer. Olivier sighed at her touch and deepened his kiss. In languid motions, he expertly danced his tongue and lips in a harmony around hers that lit a fire in her core. Liquid desire pooled between her legs. This man, at twice her age, was the most accomplished kisser she’d ever known – and she’d known a few.
He leaned her back into the pillows, and his hand drifted like a summer breeze under her shirt to caress her breast. Her eyes fluttered back in her head. His cool silky fingers slid behind her back and with one flick released the hooks on her bra. Deb gasped. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. The moment couldn’t have been choreographed more deftly by Ang Lee.
As his palm stroked her exposed nipple –
A blood curdling scream rang out and echoed from down the hall.
Come back next week to find out what happens….the prompt for next week is ‘marching band’. Won’t it be interesting to see how I get from here to there? Thanks so much for stopping by, please leave me a comment. You can find more great Free reads HERE at the Tuesday’s Tales Blog.
