Monday, February 25, 2013

Meet CR Moss

 Hi! Thanks for having me here today. :) 

Glad you could drop by, Chris. Can't wait to see what you have to share with us today. 

My name is Chris, and I write under the names C.R. Moss for erotic and mainstream romance and Casey Moss for mainstream dark fiction (horror, suspense, urban fantasy). My professional bio for C.R.: “An eccentric and eclectic writer, C.R. Moss pens stories for the mainstream and erotic romance markets, giving readers Worlds of Possibilities when it comes to love.” 

Basically I write stories from the light and sweet to the dark and deadly with varying degrees of sexual heat. The bio for my other persona: Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…

Today I’m here to tout my latest C.R. Moss release, Lovers and the Fiend. This is a story in Evernight Publishing’s Naughty Fairy Tale line. The characters, Jack and Kristina, appeared in my short story – Chasing Miss Kringle – that’s in an Evernight Publishing anthology – Stockings and Suspenders. This is the first of a handful of stories I have planned for the NFT line that revolve around the world started in CMK and Lovers. You don’t have to read the anthology story to read Lovers, but it’d be nice if you did. ;)

Blurb for Lovers and the Fiend:
Ex-cop turned private investigator, Jack Vorst, learns his elf girlfriend Kristina has been missing for a few days after being invited to an underground vampire club. He, too, is summoned to visit club Hexenringe and is taken captive. Jack finds Kristina bound and gagged in a human sized bird cage. They’re both thrust into a kinky world at the hands of Kol, the club owner. Kol, a vampiric beast, shifts into human form to be with Jack and Kristina and needs them to remember their pasts and to love him so he can return to what he used to be. Can Kol make the pair fall in love with him despite his current situation and the fact he’s keeping them captive or will they leave, making it too late for him to change all their fates?
Warning: ménage a trios, M/M, bondage, anal sex, sex toys, public exhibition

When the machine stopped, Jack’s gaze fell upon Kristina. She sat in a human sized bronze birdcage. Metal rods that fed through the bars poked into her porcelain skin. Her red hair swept up into a bun gave her a mock facelift. Around her head was a black harness, and a bit rested between her teeth. Kristina’s arms were pulled above her head, and her wrists were clamped within cuffs molded to the top of the cage. Thin chains and leather straps wrapped around her torso. The silver and black only rested above and below her breasts, leaving her chest exposed.
Anger boiled through him seeing her imprisoned in such a way. He wanted to break free from his own bonds and pummel Kol’s head in.
Kristina lifted her face and her gaze caught Jack’s. She winked. Any fears he had in regard to her predicament and comfort, and his ire over her situation, deflated. He studied her again, and this time his cock reacted to the erotic picture she portrayed.
I gather you’re okay? he stretched his thoughts out toward her. Sometimes they were able to communicate telepathically with each other. He hoped this was one of those times, then tried not to snort his disdain. Telepathic thoughts. She was an elf. When he’d first met her, they’d shared a couple of magical, other worldly interactions. And yet, he still didn’t believe in the paranormal. What is wrong with me?
Kristina tittered. Nothing’s wrong with you, darling, and I’m fine now that you’re here. I see you’ve become acquainted with the beast.
Her gaze flickered with caution or perhaps worry. Beast? Jack breathed hard through the hole in the gag. Something about all this didn’t seem right. Why’d she call such a handsome fellow a horrible name like that?
Footsteps fell behind him on the wooden floor. Seconds later Kol’s breath warmed his neck. The dancer’s finger stroked the cleft of his ass, teased the puckered hole. Jack jerked away from his touch and received a stinging slap on his ass.
Kol came around him, keeping his hand on Jack’s waist as he did so. The stroking of Kol’s palm on his skin sent a flood of desire through him. Jack did his best to will away the arousal this time.
After trailing a hand down Jack’s thigh, Kol then cupped his balls. “Why are you trying to repress your natural urges?” His fingers toyed with his sac then slid up and rimmed his tight sphincter once more. “Didn’t I tell you to look within? Realize what is true?”
Natural? True? Jack closed his eyes, pondering the dancer’s words. Had his past curiosities been more than what he’d thought them to be?
“And as for the beast comment, this is why.”

Purchase links for Lovers and the Fiend:
Find C.R. Moss here ~

Monday, February 18, 2013

Meet Andrea Downing

Andrea Downing
Hi Andrea, welcome. 

Hi Becca, thanks so much for having me here today.  

If I could write with an English accent that's what you'd be hearing.  Although I was born here in NYC, I moved to the UK and have spent most of my life on the other side of 'The Pond.'  They did their best over there to hammer out the Yank in me, teaching me to eat sausage sandwiches with Branston pickle, drink Earl Grey tea and gargle with TCP (a liquid antiseptic) when I have a cold.  I spent years bringing up my baby and writing, editing a poetry magazine and teaching.  Then, horror of horrors, the baby grew into a lovely young lady with ideas of her own, one of which was to come to the USA for university.  She was hooked.  She decided to stay on after college, and I was forced to follow.  Yep, they dragged me back to the good ol' USA and are now trying to iron out the kinks, getting me to say 'parking lot' instead of 'carpark,' spell words like 'realiZed' with the Z instead of an S and eat—OMG—hot dogs.

So how did this transplanted English Rose come to write a western historical novel?  That, as they say, is a turn-up for the books!  Well, all that time we were living in Britain we had long holidays—vacations to you Yanks—with thanks to the English school system which gives the children a month at Christmas and Easter and two months in the summer.  Avoiding the unpredictable English weather, we chose to holiday out west on ranches where the weather was equally unpredictable but somewhat warmer in the summer—with the bonus that the riding was good.  Did I say "good?"  No, it was great.  To date, the baby and I have been to some seventeen ranches throughout the western states, always searching for some new scenery and some new experience.  I don't know how many miles we've clocked up on our road trips but we've certainly covered a good few.  Soooo, all that western experience had to lead to something.  What better than to write a book that encompasses both the West that I love and the English Rose?

When I learned that British aristocrats owned most of the large cattle companies in the late 1800s, the stage was set for LOVELAND.   The Americans at the time, you see, could not borrow money so readily as the British in order to start these companies. The English and the Scots, therefore, moved in, foreseeing the fortunes that could be made.  Smart bunch!  Only thing they didn't count on was—that unpredictable weather I just mentioned. 

Well, if I continue, the Loveland story will be spoiled and I'd obviously prefer it if you went out and read the book.  So let me end here with my sincere thanks once again, Becca, for having me here today.   As we say out west, "Much appreciated!"

I am very pleased to have you here, Andrea. I'm a country girl to the core so Loveland sounds great. 


When Lady Alexandra Calthorpe returns to the Loveland, Colorado, ranch owned by her father, the Duke, she has little idea of how the experience will alter her future. Headstrong and willful, Alex tries to overcome a disastrous marriage in England and be free of the strictures of Victorian society --and become independent of men. That is, until Jesse Makepeace saunters back into her life...
Hot-tempered and hot-blooded cowpuncher Jesse Makepeace can’t seem to accept that the child he once knew is now the ravishing yet determined woman before him. Fighting rustlers proves a whole lot easier than fighting Alex when he’s got to keep more than his temper under control.
Arguments abound as Alex pursues her career as an artist and Jesse faces the prejudice of the English social order. The question is, will Loveland live up to its name?


She sat on a stool and pulled off first one boot, then the other and kicked them aside, then she stood and put her leg on the stool to roll down her stockings one by one.
He marveled at her wantonness, her lack of propriety. “Alex, stop,” he said, laying his hand on hers. “Stop. You know...”
But he was lost; she took his face in her hands and pulled him to her, kissing him so any resistance he had had was now shattered. His heart beat faster at the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue, the lack of air as they sought each other. His hands moved over her feeling the outline of her body, knowing its curves, its gentleness, its yielding. “Are you sure?” he asked at last.
“I want you so much, Jesse, I want you so much, I’m not waiting three years. And if...if anything happens, so what? We’ll get married, that’ll be it.”
“Yes, but Alex, you can’t... I mean, it’d be a shotgun wedding, it’s not how—”
“Shh.” She put her finger to his mouth and then turned for him to unhook her gown. He ran his hands gently down her exposed back, feeling each scar, then kissed her neck.
“You have nothing on under...”
“It’s how the gown is made. Monsieur Worth builds the undergarments into the gown.” Her voice was at barely a whisper, a tremor showing her nerves. She turned and still held the gown up to her, then, looking at Jesse, let it drop to the floor.
Find and connect with Andrea Downing
Website and blog
Twitter:  @andidowning 
Buy Links: 
The Wild Rose Press 

Monday, February 11, 2013

Meet Claire Croxton

A Little Background on this fun author. 

After spending over a decade as a technical writer in Northern Alaska, Claire Croxton chucked aside her mukluks, loaded up her cats and relocated to a farm in Japton, Arkansas to pursue a career in writing fiction.

She had no idea there were places more remote than tiny, Iñupiaq villages with no road access, yet she managed to find one. The woods of Madison County are inspirational and she has written several contemporary romances, which she refers to as soul-searching snark. They are filled with unique characters-strong, bold women and knock-your-bloomers-off hot men. Sure they're flawed, but who cares? Have you seen their abs?

In addition to writing, she serves on the board of the Ozark Writers League and is the president of the Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. Her non-writing time is spent managing Sunflower Heritage Farms where she raises heritage breed rabbits, chickens, geese, sheep, goats, hogs and the occasional Mammoth donkey.

Redneck Ex took 3rd Place in the Preditor and Editors 2012 Romance Book of the Year.


With one twang of a banjo string, Summer Leigh Johnson's tidy, organized life in Barrow, Alaska is jolted back to the Ozarks when her coon-hunting, tobacco-chewing, bull-riding, redneck ex-husband asks for her help. She has two options: turn her back on him like he did to her eleven years ago, or help. Burdened with the curse of every southern woman--What Would Mama Do?--she goes to his aid. And what does she find? The man she fell in love with all those years ago and a second chance at love and family. The last time she gave her heart to Dwight, he flicked it aside like an empty can of Skoal. This time he's cradling it as gently as he would a speckled pup. It will take a lot more than Dwight's southern charm and good looks to convince Summer to stay.


“You’re going to Germany?”
“Yeah.” I stepped into the bathroom and grabbed some Tylenol before taking my original seat. The pills stuck in my throat and I washed them down with lukewarm coffee.
“Why the hell would you go see your ex-husband?” Her red face clearly indicated her anger.
“His parents were always good to me,” I tried to explain. “Generous and kind. Always made me feel like a part of the family.”
“Screw that!” Janice interjected herself into the conversation in her usual gentle manner. “Any debt to them was paid when their ass-of-a-son left you.”
“We didn’t even know you’d been married.” Bernice sounded tentative and worried. “How much can this man mean to you if your best friends don’t even know about him?” She took my hands, rubbed them softly and asked, “Why would you go to him? Especially after all these years?”
“For God’s sake. I’d never go see my ex!” Janice exclaimed.
“We all know you wouldn’t piss on your ex if he were on fire...” Stephanie said.
“I would if I peed gasoline!”
We laughed.
“Not everyone abhors their ex,” I said.
“You might not detest your ex, but God knows you don’t like the guy,” Janice said. “Never. Once. In the eight years I’ve known you have you even mentioned him. Never! How can you go to him now?”
“Because if I refuse to go and something happened to him, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
Stephanie and Candy nodded in understanding, but I could tell, Janice and Bernice needed more convincing.
“Look at it this way, how can I be a martyr if I don’t go?” I joked.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Meet Wendy Ely

Please welcome Wendy Ely to Meet the author Monday. What are readers saying about this talented writer?

Rebbeca Rose calls Confessions "A beautifully crafted story of agonizing loss, everlasting love, and the power of forgiveness."

Sara's Reviews says, "Ms. Ely has done it again. This (Midnight Secrets) is an awesome book  about secrets and love, death and redemption."

Wendy Ely lives in Phoenix, Arizona and loves to visit the quiet desert town that she set her Desert Secret series in. She started her writing career in 2008, focusing on the contemporary romance and romantic suspense genres. She serves on the board for her local Romance Writers America chapter and mentors authors in their own writing career. 

When she isn't writing, she loves spending time with her real-life hero, their teenagers, and two crazy cats. Reading, watching movies, swimming, and enjoying the sunshine that her state provides makes her happy. 

You can find Wendy here: 

The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews