Fàilte (Welcome), Donna Gallagher!

Please welcome Donna Gallagher to the Tavern. She’s been trying to get down here to catch a glimpse of Lucien for quite some time. Read on to find out if she was able to corner him. She’ll have done better than me if she was able to. 🙂



That would be right I completely forgot I’d made a date to go to the Tavern. Finally get my chance to meet Lucien, and wouldn’t you know it I’m between hairdressing appointments so the grey is showing.

After throwing on a dress, low cut of course, doing my make-up and fluffing up my hair, I grab a cab to the tavern. Driving isn’t an option, if I’m going to go out for the night I intend to make the most of it. I hesitantly push open the heavy door and peek inside. The Tavern lighting is dimmed and as my eyes adjust I carefully, and I say carefully because I’ve stupidly worn a pair of heels so high that I can’t really walk in them, teeter across to the nearest table. There are only a few other patrons in the bar tonight and I casually glance around taking it all in.

I’ve been looking forward to seeing the ever so tempting Lucian up close and personal for quite a while now…but of course as my luck would have it he is nowhere to be found. I’d kill for a glass of champagne to still the pterodactyl like wings beating in my stomach. I try and attract the attention of the waitress.

While I place my order with Seraphina, I ever so innocently ask of Lucien’s whereabouts, excited to hear that he is expected back at any moment. What will I say to him? My usual conversation starters about sport, in particular rugby league might not cut it this time. I just can’t imagine Lucien taking in a game of footy. Perhaps I will read him an excerpt from my latest book Emily’s Cowboy, maybe get his advice, after all this is the Wicked Muse Tavern and all erotic romance authors need the help of a wicked muse every now and again.


Excerpt from Emily’s Cowboy (League of Love series book 5)

Now, having achieved his goal of getting Emily away from the hospital for a few hours, Gareth had the tormented pleasure of imagining Emily in his shower. Naked in his shower. He could visualise the water sluicing down her nude body, and he had the rock-hard boner to attest to his vivid imagination.

Fuck, man, get it under wraps. The last thing Emily wants or needs, is you trying to get in her pants, Gareth scolded his lust-filled mind. Not that she’s wearing any at the moment, his ever helpful mind added, making him groan even more as that train of thought rampantly took hold.

He was trapped, unable to move, standing outside his own bathroom door. He could hear the sound of the water running, but could not for the life of him take a step away, although he was terrified that at any moment, Emily would open the door and see him standing there stupidly, sporting a boner hard enough to hammer nails into wood.

“Yeah, that would be awesome. She’d appreciate it, I’m sure,” he murmured, his feet still refusing to move. Then he heard it—soft sobs coming from behind the closed door. Emily was crying, and Gareth could not stop himself, was unable to ignore the sounds of the woman he loved in despair. He opened the door and, disregarding the fact he was fully clothed—cowboy boots and all—he stepped into the shower stall. The sight of her crumpled to the floor with her hands over her eyes as she wept was heartbreaking, and he gathered her into his arms.

“Oh, baby… Shhh… Don’t cry. Mac will be fine. He is going to be fine. The worst is over.”

Gareth held her to his chest, stroked the length of her wet hair, felt her chest, her breasts rise against him as her sobs wracked her body. Emily’s tears had more power to bring him to his knees than any opposition player’s tackle. The fact that she was naked in his arms was but a distant observation. He hated seeing her in pain, in distress. Would do anything to stop her tears. He didn’t care that he was now completely soaked, his clothes heavy with water. Consoling his Emily was Gareth’s only concern.

Then he felt her lips on the skin of his neck, their warmth as she kissed him there, and her arms as she reached around behind his head, drawing him down so his mouth was tantalising close to hers. Like a lightning bolt hitting him, awakening his body, Emily’s naked form came back to the forefront of his mind. Like a heavy hit lined up and delivered perfectly from an opposing forward, his need for her slammed into him, robbing him of any previous gallant intentions. He needed Emily, needed to feel her skin. Needed to feel himself buried deep, balls-deep, inside her.

“Love me, Gareth. I need to feel something other than the guilt that’s eating me alive. I should have done more, should have reacted quicker, found Dad sooner… Distract me. Make it go away. Make me think of only you, even if it’s just for a while… ”

“Emily, you did all you could. You probably saved your father’s life, got him help, did all the right things. Stop it. Stop trying to take the blame for everything that happens, every time life deals a blow that’s unfair. Mac’s accident is just one of those things. Working the land comes with its dangers. You know that.”

Gareth was not a saint, and he was not going to give up the opportunity of showing Emily how much he still loved her. If she wanted him to make love to her, distract her, he was going to do that…and more, until she had no doubt of his love.

He took her mouth with his as he steadied her head in his hands, drawing her body hard against his own. He turned her face gently to gain a better angle, a better connection. Their faces mashed up against each other, he devoured her, his tongue demanding as he laved every part of her mouth hungrily, eagerly. The sounds of her sighs—muffled by his mouth, but still audible—sent him into a sexual frenzy. He needed more. Needed to feel her orgasm, needed to be the one that brought his Emily fulfilment. Only him. Always him.

“More, I need more. I need you naked, to run my hands over your chest, Gareth, need to have that experience again,” she begged when she dragged her lips from his.


Emily’s Cowboy Blurb.

It’s such a cliché — country boy moves to the big city to follow his dreams, leaving his girl and everything he loves behind – but that’s exactly what Gareth Andrews has done. Playing rugby league is Gareth’s dream and he’s signed with one of the best teams in the competition – The Sydney Jets. Of course that has meant a move to the big city and leaving Emily Mackenzie and everything he loves behind. Not that Gareth hasn’t begged her to join him in the city he has, on bended knee — but Emily needs to stay in Gunnedah and help her father on the family farm until her brother’s stint in the armed forces is over. But Gareth knew it’s more than that. Emily is hiding away, embarrassed by the scars that mar her body in a constant reminder of the bushfire that nearly took her life.

Can love give Emily the courage to face strangers again when her father is badly injured and Gareth shows up at the hospital to support her? Or will she let her fear and shame get the better of her and break her one true love’s heart for a second time?


Emily’s Cowboy      Total-E-Bound:

Donna Gallagher   Website  Blog  Facebook  Twitter




Process VS Passion by Imogene Nix

Gah… I promised Shay MacLean a guest post some time ago and finally pulled out my computer to write it.  A vague feeling of What the hell do I write is chasing around in my mind.  Maybe I need to head to the Wicked Muse Tavern.


With my laptop slung over my shoulder, I step within, shock stealing my breath.  I’ve been here before, but I am always shocked that it’s so much bigger inside than out.


My eyes are adjusting to the shades of the room and I look around, seeking an empty chair.

I know I can order any kind of drink, but I need a kick that is only available from a good strong cappuccino…


The lovely Seraphina (well she is quite imposing with those green eyes and presence… and I’m worried she’ll look over my shoulder so I’ll play it safe and go innocuous) takes my order, then returns with my drink of choice while I set myself up. My mind is churning sluggishly until I get my first sip of the brew.


Yeah… Just what I needed.


Okay, back to the matter at hand, something I find hard because the processes keep getting in my way, this morning.  Taking the kids to school, feeding the animals, making the bed…


It occurs to me that life is like this huge big process.  Sure we get passion, but it’s the day to day stuff that can clog the arteries of a writer.


Think of it as artistic atherosclerosis. One many can suffer from, when writing sex scenes (among other things, but I’m an erotic writer, so it’s something I write a few of! Lol).  Don’t get me wrong!  I love writing sex scenes… when I’m up to them in the story.


Beforehand though I dither around like a crazy cat on a hot roof.  Do I have another one in me? Will it be process but no passion? Will it draw the reader in?


It’s a constant battle to make sure books featuring intimate scenes are passionate, exciting and worth reading. And I know many others who suffer from the same P.V.P.  (Process Versus Passion) syndrome as I do.  And it’s something I learned right back at the beginning.  Sometimes when a writer is first starting out, it’s easy to be so caught up in the process of writing the scenes that they fail to include the passion and focus instead on the process of part A fits into part B.


What do I mean? Let me show you.


She put her hands around his neck. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.


Now I read that and go “Meh!” The words are there… The process is there but I’m not feeling any passion…


Let me see what I can do with it…


Carla slung her hands around his neck. Her body vibrated as it rocked against him and she shuddered. “Oh Reid! I need you…” Her words trailed away as she leant in.

The whisper of his breath teased her lips and she had to wet them.  Sensual delight spun a web around her as she inched closer. Her eyes fluttered closed and finally, their mouths touched.


This time I’m feeling the passion.


How did I change it to include the passion? That’s not quite as simple as knowing which words to add… but it’s a matter of painting the world around them, concentrating on the emotions and feelings. It’s about making the reader able to feel the actions and emotions the characters are experiencing.


Have I read stories with process and no passion? I sure have. But you know the problem with that? I walk away feeling dissatisfied… like I’ve waited for my caffeine hit, only to get a… Decaf!  Urgh! (See?  Can’t think of anything worse – well so says me as I sit here with my cappuccino in hand.)


Anyway, to be honest, I did think that at some point writing these scenes would get easier.  That I’d be able to scroll them off… instead I’m just as concerned as my first.  Why? Because now I have the added concern of ensuring they are fresh. Sigh.


So far, I haven’t found a cure for PVP. If you do, be sure to tell me, right?


Darn.  Coffee cup drained… Seraphina is heading my way and I have to quickly decide if I order another or if I should head home and get stuck back into the process and passion.  Hmm I’ll probably be bouncing off the walls. So maybe I better go…


I drop some coin onto the table and a quick nod from me toward the bar while I pack up.  I’ll have to come back again someday soon…


Meanwhile, I’ll just leave you with some promo items from my latest release.



The Plan

What happens when wrong and right collide amidst indescribable passion?
Jonah Fielding has been brought in to clean up the Department of Authority on Centauri. In the course of his work, he captures Kadie Frost, the young woman who managed to escape his sting operation. Kadie, an orphan, now almost destitute illegal parts runner, is shocked to find herself falling for the man who arrested her.
Jonah’s world is one that Kadie doesn’t understand and fears. When he offers her a deal, she agrees to help him with the investigation. Now they must fight an impossible attraction, find the bad guys, and along the way they’ll even end up getting married…purely for the sake of the case, of course.
In the middle of upheaval they find themselves surprised by the scorching promise of passion while bewildered at how it all went awry. The clock is ticking and anything can happen next. Will they survive when work and pleasure collide?
Content Warning: This book contains a sexy, hot man in uniform and a wayward, hotheaded woman, as well as lots of adventure of the futuristic and bedroom variety.


The man that arrested her, Captain Jonah Fielding, she had heard of. A straight man, everyone agreed. He didn’t associate with the old, corrupt Authorities. But at this point that’s cold comfort. How can I possibly explain that I have nothing else except my little Sugar Plum Fairy and that’s why I took the chance? Her stomach rebelled and she dry heaved right there in the cells as catcalls and laughter from other prisoners filled the air. Thank the Lights at least I am in a single cell. Her head ached brutally and she wavered slightly, waiting for Captain Fielding to send for her.

“Kadie Frost? Captain Fielding wants to see you.” The clank of the cell door told her someone was coming; she struggled to her feet, lifting tired, sore eyes.

A young man, little more than a boy really, with a freshly pressed uniform marched in, unfastened her from the restraint loop, and pulled her out the door and into an anonymous corridor.

Hoots and hollers met her ears as she allowed herself to be paraded down the long walkway. As if cattle in a moon-cow yard, she thought, closing her eyes as the Authority man pulled her toward a heavy, metal door at the end of the corridor. He stopped there and she opened her eyes, reading the sign on the door.

Interrogation Room One. What a great name, she thought snidely. Really inventive.

The door opened slowly and she was quickly thrust inside. The door snapped shut behind her as she looked around the bare room. A table and two chairs sat, scarred and ugly, in the middle of the floor. The metal was cold and glittering in the cool air as the air circulators pushed currents around the frigid room. She made her way over and sat down, waiting for the captain to enter. Her head drooped to the table and she let it rest, seeking the refreshing cool on her overly hot skin.

Her hands stung and her eyes burned. She felt sorry for herself as she thought about the mess she had gotten into, and she turned her stinging hands to check the damage. They were bright red and radiated heat. The deep scratches were swollen and weepy; sticky drops of goop coated the raw skin. Never a good sign, she already knew that.

“Kadie Frost?”

She started. Obviously, the woolly, heavy feeling in her head had overtaken her and she had dropped off to sleep as she waited. Her skin burned against in the coolness of the room.

“That’s me.” Her head hurt viciously, but now she realized her throat burned too.

“Captain Fielding is my name. I believe you and I can discuss BXM parts?” He lifted an eyebrow and she noted the captain had the most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen, teamed with long, black hair fastened at the back of his neck, high cheeks, and impossibly chiseled features. He had full, pink lips that would make a woman cry when they moved over hers. Huh? Where did that thought come from?

She blinked, dazed by the thought, and considered her plan of attack. “What? Oh, the BXM parts.” She swallowed and felt the razor blades she was sure were in her neck slashing from the inside which then proceeded to burn. “They aren’t mine. They never were.”

Buy link:

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/The-Plan-ebook/dp/B00CC6C5LC/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1365933314&sr=1-7&keywords=imogene+nix

Barnes & Noble  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-plan-imogene-nix/1115115412?ean=2940016517322

Beachwalk Press  http://beachwalkpress.com/the-plan/



A mother of two, compulsive reader and bookstore owner. She lives in regional Queensland, Australia with her husband, 2 daughters, dog, cats and prize winning chooks. She has a particular fondness for Vampires, Star Ship Captains and things that go bump in the night.


She is also a firm believer in writing what you enjoy… something she strictly adheres to!


Where can you catch up with Imogene?

Facebook page: www.facebook.com/ImogeneNix

Site and Blog: www.imogenenix.com  www.imogenenix.blogspot.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/ImogeneNix

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5580875.Imogene_Nix

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_at_ep_srch?_encoding=UTF8&sort=relevancerank&search-alias=books&field-author=Imogene%20Nix



Welcome, Tamsin Baker!

Please welcome, Tamsin Baker to the Wicked Muse Tavern. She’s stopped by to talk about her debut novel. She’s also shared a juicy excerpt from Truth Be Told. Don’t forget to leave an interesting comment. She’s giving away a copy too. 🙂

Shay and Lucien

Hello fellow bloggers!

The lovely Shay and gorgeous Lucien invited me on, to tell you about my first ever published work! Release date- today!!! Squuueeee!

It’s an m/m, which for some people would probably be an unusual first choice, but I have loved m/m love stories for a long time. My love affair with m/m began fifteen years ago with the arrogant Brian Kinney and the talented Justin Taylor- if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you need to look up the Canadian version of Queer as Folk- BRILLIANT!

Whilst browsing publishers, as we do, I came across a submission call for m/m erotic romances between 20-45K. I decided to have a go, so to speak. I started writing about a closeted gay man, Patrick, who was a gorgeous top. Three paragraphs in, a bigger, gorgeous top arrived, and Liam became the second hero. Oh well, plans change I guess.

I asked for some help within my erotic writers group and the beautiful (and professional editor, which I didn’t realize at the time, gulp) Alysha Ellis offered to look at it for me. She loved it and was very encouraging on how to improve it.

When I offered it to Evernight publishing, I had a contract within three day and not even three months later, it is releasing, I’m pretty wrapt!

Allow me to share a snippet- perhaps a sex scene? If you will permit me.

Of course, I’ll give away a copy to the most original comment- put down your emails if you can. Otherwise, enjoy.

Here are my links if you wish to check out what I’m doing- I have lots of books due to come out soon… and of course the buy link because it is brilliant… smiles.




Warm hands cupped his arse and Patrick pushed his flesh back into Liam’s hands.

“You have the nicest arse. I want you again.”

Patrick’s flaccid cock began to stir as the hot words were forced into his ear.

“Well have me again.”

Patrick forced the idea of pain into the tiny corners of his brain, not allowing it to come out in the light of day. But as Liam stroked a finger into his crack and gently pushed his finger inside, he visibly winced and tensed all over.

“You’re really sore.”

A reluctant smile stretched across Patrick’s mouth. He had never had such a considerate lover before. Turning, so that the water ran down his back, he smiled in invitation and tilted his head back under the hot spray.

“You know I don’t bottom often. But if you want to keep seeing me, I’ll have to get used to it.”

The smile that Liam gave him was blinding. His perfect white teeth flashed, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his baby blues had stars in them.

“Oh, I definitely want to keep seeing you.”

Liam grabbed Patrick about the waist and hauled him back onto his body. The feeling was amazing. Hot water at his back, big aroused male and his own hard cock at his front. Maybe he could bottom again.

He sucked on Liam’s tongue, nipping at his bottom lip. He seriously has the best mouth, ever.

“Get clean, I want you to fuck me again.” Patrick stepped awkwardly out of the shower, and pushed Liam towards the water. “You need a bigger shower.”

If they shared a place, he would make sure the shower was big enough. Woah, hang on just a minute, if they lived together?

Patrick shook his head from side to side. Where had that thought come from? He dried himself quickly, then stopped. Remembering their conversation.

“How come you don’t pick up? I know what you said, but don’t you have guys throwing themselves at you every night?”

Liam chuckled beneath the water as he scrubbed his hair with shampoo. “My uncle and I made a pact that we wouldn’t ‘piss in our own pond’ so to speak. We wouldn’t pick up the guys that came to our bar.”

Liam picked up the soap and began to wash his hard cock and balls. Patrick was jealous of that soap.

“So you don’t usually pick up from Nine Lives?” He couldn’t believe it, though Liam had said the other night that it had been months for him too.

“Never.” Liam turned off the water and shook his head like a dog, water spraying everywhere.

He had to know. “But you let me pick you up.”

Liam laughed again and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel.

“I told my uncle you were the exception to the rule.” Liam shrugged and began rubbing himself down.

Patrick was a little overcome. He had thought he was the only one that felt this … this need to break all of his rules. He headed for the bedroom. Where is this going to go?

When he heard Liam’s footstep along the corridor he reached for the lube. He would need a lot this time.

Liam entered the bedroom looking concerned. “Patrick, I want you, but if you don’t, we can just suck each other off.”

He shook his head and leaned forward over the bed, placing both hands, palm down on the bed. Spreading his legs, he tilted his pelvis in invitation.

“No, I want to take you again. Just lube me up really well.”

Gentle hands curved on his arse and Patrick couldn’t stop the shiver that shook his whole body. Liam reached between his legs and cupped his balls, squeezing them gently.

Patrick was aching now, not only in the cock but in his arse. He felt empty, wanting, a first for him.

“Liam,” he moaned and dropped his chest closer to the bed, exposing his body for his lover.

“What do you want Patrick?” Liam’s voice would have been taunting if it wasn’t so laced with desire. Patrick just moaned in response, he wasn’t very good at the sex talk stuff.

“Do you want me to pull you off?” Liam reached around his body and began to tug on his cock in a manner sure to make him come.

“Yes, but fuck me too.” Patrick spoke softly, almost embarrassed to admit that he really wanted this. It was one thing to bottom for the pleasure of your partner, but another thing to admit out loud that you really wanted an arse fucking.

“How do you want it, Patrick? Tell me.”

He could hear foil ripping and couldn’t believe the wave of relief that passed through him when he realized how close he was to getting fucked. He really wanted this.

Squeezing his eyes tight, he opened his mouth and thought out loud, saying the words that would key his lover into his inner most desire.

“I want you to ram that huge perfect cock into me over and over again. Hard and deep until I come all over the sheets.”

Big hands spread a lot of lube over his hole before grabbing his cheeks and pulling them apart. “Like this?”

That was all the warning he got before he was impaled in one smooth thrust. It hurt, really hurt, but he fought to relax, to focus on the pleasure.

“Pull yourself gently, I can’t reach easily.”

Patrick heard the strained words and blindly reached for his dick. He stroked himself gently, pleasure shooting along his spine as the burning eased. What a clever lover he had.

“Move, Liam.”

He thrust his buttocks up and waited for his huge lover to move. He didn’t.

“What’s wrong?”

Patrick looked over his shoulder and saw Liam behind him, head tilted back, eyes closed and jaw clenched; a muscle in his jaw angrily ticking away.

“Liam, what’s …” He went to stand up but Liam gripped his pelvis, holding him down.

He watched as Liam lowered his head and looked directly at him, savage passion unleashed in his eyes.

“I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you. I want to fuck you, like, really fuck you.”

“How? Tell me.”

Patrick clenched purposefully around his lover’s dick, and Liam surged forward. He groaned as Liam’s balls slapped against his. Patrick found nothing more erotic than that.

“I want to …” Liam stopped talking again and Patrick sighed, wanting to comfort his lover somehow, but not knowing what to say.

Instead, he brought his chest down onto the mattress and pushed his arse into Liam’s groin.

“Fuck me and talk to me, Liam. Tell me everything you want to do to me while you make me blow again.”

A growl sounded behind him and he jerked on his cock. This was going to be an awesome ride.

Liam pulled back slowly then slammed back into him. Pleasure tinged with pain ran down Patrick’s body, his legs already tingling with his impending orgasm.

“Tell me lover, please.”

It was so unlike Liam not to talk during sex, it was discomforting. Liam pulled Patricks arse cheeks apart and began to move steadily.

“Patrick, I want to fuck you so hard and so deep that you won’t sit down for a week without thinking of me.”

Liam was fucking him with slow, deep, penetrating strokes now, increasing the speed as the words spilled out of him. This was not a slow burn of passion, or even a quick fuck to relieve some tension, this was possession. Patrick closed his eyes, let go of his cock, and let Liam’s magic weave its spell.

“I want to please you more than any lover you’ve ever had. I want to fuck you so good that you’ll never want anyone else …” Liam broke off as his real emotion began to show. Patrick squeezed his eyes shut more as they burned with unshed tears.

“Fuck, I can’t be gentle, and I know you need gentle. I’m sorry.”

The blinding pleasure was building in Patrick’s balls, he felt them squeezing tight. He didn’t want gentle, he wanted to belong to someone and to know they wanted him more than anyone.

He reached up to his hip where Liam’s hand gripped him and interlinked their fingers. Liam squeezed his hand tight and moved even faster.

“I don’t want gentle. Fuck, don’t stop.”

An animalistic groan escaped his lips as he blew his load all over his stomach and the bed, the pleasure immeasurable. Only one thrust later, Liam joined him in bliss, screaming his pleasure for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Characters Lead, I follow by Lauren Smith

As a new author, I often hear the question, “Where do your ideas come from?” I never really know how to answer this question. But the truth is that my characters come to me mostly formed in my head. More than once, my novels have started out with a singular vision, a flash of some scene (usually not the starting point, but from somewhere in the middle of the future novel). The characters are there, strolling out before my eyes, in the midst of a plot I’ve only just discovered.


I’m sure other authors agree. Characters define themselves and lead you as you start to write. Sometimes they even give you a bit of trouble when you want them to act a certain way or say a certain thing. For example, my upcoming release from Samhain in 2014, called Wicked Designs, is a perfect example of characters taking the lead. Whatever I’d intended to happen with my heroine Emily and my hero Godric, is long forgotten in the wake of Emily and Godric taking control of their own story. I had every intention of Emily being older and more jaded. But out came a young Debutante, determined to hold her own against a duke in his early thirties who’d never met a woman his emotional or intellectual equal. The result? Fireworks.


Want a taste? Here’s an excerpt from where Emily has been kidnapped by Godric who’s determined to ruin her in revenge against her uncle who embezzled money from Godric. Emily makes a desperate break for freedom and comes face to face with the physical and irresistible temptation Godric presents.

WickedDesigns72lg final medium


It was now or never. Seizing what might be her only chance, Emily whirled to the left, toward an entry way and a large door not twenty feet away. Clutching her skirts she sprinted towards it, blood pounding in her ears as her fear mounted. A few feet more and she’d be free.

Suddenly she pitched forward, falling flat on her stomach.

The cold stone bit into her hands as she sought to brace her fall. Something hot and hard latched onto her right ankle. Panting for breath, she looked over her shoulder. Godric crouched behind her, a feral glint to his eyes. His chest expanded with obvious effort.

Her pride swelled. He wasn’t used to chasing after women, especially not ones with the intention of getting away.

“I thought I advised against running, Miss Parr.” Godric’s green eyes danced with shadowy merriment, as though they were playing some game.

It infuriated her. This was her life, her freedom!

“Let me go! You have no right to keep me here!” Emily kicked at his hand with her free foot, but he caught her left ankle, and then slid her along the floor on her stomach until she lay beneath his crouched body.

A doe in the glen catching scent of man, Emily lay still, listening to Godric breathe. When he spoke, she ignored him and focused instead on her counter attack. She tensed and flipped onto her back, backhanding him with a sharp crack across the face.

The fingers around her ankles tightened as he growled low in his throat. “The time you spend here can be civil or not. I shall leave it up to you, but know that for every act of defiance I will demand something of you in return.” He exhaled, deeply. She felt it even in her ankle, the move of his body above her. “You may not like the price.”

His face loomed above hers with all the beauty of a vengeful god. With aching slowness he caged her in using his body to trap her. Hers shuddered at the heavy contact as his limbs matched hers. Ice warred with fire along her skin as she fought tremors of excitement. It was as though she faced a lion—raw beauty, extreme power, and a posed threat—yet she couldn’t look away, and wanted to taste his full lips again.

Reality struck her sharply, reminding her to fight him. She tensed, testing her strength. His chest was a wall of steel, immovable as a mountain. Left gasping after her efforts, Emily’s eyes burned with childish tears. She couldn’t free herself, not from him, not from this place. And worst of all, she couldn’t escape her own desire. It was torture to want her abductor to coax her lips apart and teach her how to kiss so divinely.

Godric cupped her cheek with one hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb lightly over the curve of her lower lip. The warmth of his breath and the hint of his scent tangled her senses and rationality until she was a jumbled mess inside. Fear sparked within her, like flashes of lights hidden behind black clouds.

He could ruin her…physically. He hadn’t really assured her safety, and now Emily realized her mistake. Godric could very easily take her, brutally and completely, and she had no way to defend herself. She had to say something, something to placate him and protect herself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she expelled in a rush, but his lips took hers hard and fast, in an intoxicating rush of sensations and tastes. She whimpered as he fisted a hand in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. Being so exposed sparked an explosive thrill. Her breasts strained against the fabric of her gown and heat pooled between her legs. It made little sense, this breathless yearning to be powerless beneath him, the desire to surrender to his sensual assault. The whispering graze of his teeth against her skin restlessly stirred her body.

When he returned his mouth to hers, she quivered with anticipation. The glide of his tongue between her lips was all about domination. She could feel it in the press of his chest against her breasts. The decision to submit countered everything in her body and mind, but she finally did.

He stilled atop her then, lips half-parted over hers, and with a soft sigh he drew his head back. His tongue licked his lips and regret flickered in his gaze. Emily wondered how far he would have taken her seductive punishment if she hadn’t acquiesced to him so quickly. He eased off her and helped her to her feet. Emily despaired at the loss of contact and she hated herself for admitting it.

“Shall we try this again?” His voice was low and husky. Did he have to be so tall and…and intense? Her instincts still screamed for her to run, but a good part of her wanted to step closer, to agree to anything he said. No man should have such power over her, but Godric was starting to, and that scared her far more than the intoxicating seduction of his kisses.


I hope you enjoyed this tasty excerpt! Feel free to check out my blog and facebook for details on the release and future stories about Godric’s rakehell friends!

A special thanks to Lucien for allowing me to make an appearance in his tavern! *Waves to Lucien who is reclining in a chair by the hearth.

I’d love to hear from you blog viewers what you think about characters and their stories? If you’re  a writer, do you listen to your characters, or do they listen to you?


warmed up close upAbout the Author

Lauren Smith is an attorney by day and writer by night. She loves to write adventurous, steamy, character driven historicals, sexy, gothic romantic suspense and she’s currently dabbling in sweeping space opera cyborg stories. She lives in Oklahoma with her cat Tiki and a feisty little black schnauzer Fritz. Drop her blog for news on Wicked Designs, exclusive illustrations of scenes from the book and more!



Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurenDianaSmith

Twitter: @LSmithAuthor


Welcome to the Wicked Muse Tavern, Jaleta Clegg

Many’s the word that ends up deleted when editing a novel. Some scenes, though great fun, just don’t fit in the final story. This is one of my favorite deleted scenes from Poisoned Pawn.


The thug caught up to me and took my arm in a grip that reminded me of grappling clamps. “You pay or we make you pay. You choose how much pain you want to suffer.”

“Then let’s go to the ship. The money’s there.”

“You call your ship and have them deliver the money. To the Golden Lantern, right here.” He dragged me into a restaurant that favored red carpet and dim light. No one outside paid the slightest attention to us. He took me to a table in the back and pushed me onto the bench behind it. Another man was already there on the other side. I was trapped.

“Have a drink while you wait, captain,” the first man said. “Call your ship, and watch what you say.”

I pulled my com out of my pocket. I hit the call button.

“Dace?” Clark answered.

“Is Jasyn back yet?”

“She just arrived. Gruder and his trucks are here. He isn’t very happy with you.”

“I’m not happy with him either. Can you meet me at a restaurant called the Golden Lantern? Bring a transfer chip with you.”

“Dinner for the crew? How novel, captain. Be there soon.” He clicked off.

I hoped my message had gotten through to him. I didn’t know him well enough to be sure. I hoped Jasyn wouldn’t follow him.

“Not smart, captain,” the first man said. He was now holding a gun, just under the table. “You cheat us or cause us trouble and we will shoot you.”

“Why would I want to do either? Just because you’re the scum of the galaxy doesn’t mean we can’t do business.”

The second man slapped me across the face. “Watch your mouth.”

I knew what they were, if not the exact organization. I’d heard about the syndicates, crime groups that controlled shipping among other things. You either paid them what they demanded or you didn’t get cargo. Or you ended up dead with your ship damaged. I doubted these two worked for the Targon Syndicate. If they did, they should have known me. And I would either be dead or on my way to somewhere where I would shortly be dead. I was surprised to find a group out here. The syndicates usually only operated where there was sufficient profit, not out on the fringe of the Empire where Talus was located. Either way, it was pay them off or get in a really messy fight.

Clark came in the restaurant, stopping to talk to the greeter at the door. He looked good in his new shipsuit, green like mine. He smiled at the greeter and came back to the table where I sat hemmed in by thugs. He stopped a pace away, eyeing the men on either side of me. “I see you have company, Dace. Drinks are on you this time?”

“This time?” the first man asked. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He jabbed me with the gun.

“There was this other group last time we were here,” Clark said, scratching the back of his head. “We paid them and they said we were good to do business here.”

“Liar,” the second man said and hit me even though he was staring at Clark.

I tasted blood. The man with the gun jabbed me in the ribs. “Explain this.”

“Explain it to the gentlemen, Clark,” I said.

“Watch your mouth,” the second man said and backhanded me again.

“Who did you pay?” The first man jabbed me with his gun again. I was going to have bruises.

“Big ugly guy, bald on top,” Clark said. “He warned us scum like you were trying to take over his territory.”

“Liar,” the second man said. I ducked away from his hand, tried to anyway. He connected with my forehead. My head bounced back and slammed against the wall.

“There isn’t any such person,” the first man said and gave me another bruise in the ribs.

“He’s right over there,” Clark said pointing to one side of the room.

They looked, only for a second but it was long enough. Clark had a very small, nasty looking gun out when they looked back.

“Put your gun on the table,” he said to the first man. “Slowly.”

The second man raised his hand.

I took the gun from the first and jammed it against the second man’s face. “Hit me again and I’ll remove half your head.” He dropped his hand. “Move. Now.” He slid out of the booth.

I climbed after him. “It’s been nice doing business with you. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”


jaletacleggmedJaleta Clegg loves to spin yarns with plenty of action and adventure. She writes everything from science fiction adventure to silly horror to high fantasy. Find more about her and her stories at www.jaletac.com. Find out more about Dace and her crew at www.altairanempire.com. Book 3 in the series, Poisoned Pawn, releases on April 19 at http://journal-store.com/fiction/poisoned-pawn-the-fall-of-the-altairan-empire-book-iii/