Today I have a fellow Beachwalk author with me to tell us all about some new releases – take it away Ms Mills…!
Tabitha, thanks so much for having me over. I’m Tara Mills and I write sensual contemporary romances, two of which are out now with Crimson Romance and as you already know, my first Beachwalk title will release on January 21st. I can’t wait!
Caution: Filling is Hot
Here’s a recipe to share with friends. Take one prickly demonstration cook, handle carefully. Add one lonely widower, slightly beaten. Mix gently. Fold in two eight-year-olds, one at a time to temper the batter and avoid scrambling. Then finally, add the mother with an agenda — but just a dash because she’s spicy. Whip into stiff peaks then spread over an ungreased sheet for best results. Method of cooking can vary however, Caution: Filling is Hot.
Piper Frost is taking a break from men when contractor Chad Thomas crashes her cooking class and turns on the charm. His persistence annoys her at first but she’s already melting, even without his sneaky mother and conspiring twins in the mix. But just when things are really starting to sizzle, disaster strikes. Can Piper save her recipe for happily ever after or is it already ruined? Grab your hot pads and find out.
Piper’s surrender to the attraction sizzling between them was indisputable, a physical thing. Once committed, the confident decisive woman who warned Chad off with mace was back. He liked this sexy side of her.
Chad broke the kiss to draw a ragged breath then veered right and grazed his rough cheek along her jaw, down her neck, then finally nuzzled her ear. The sensations set Piper vibrating in his arms but it was the tip of his tongue tracing along the shell of her ear that prompted her desperate groan. Piper skimmed her hands down his chest and reached around his waist. Without warning she clapped them firmly on his ass.
Taken by surprise Chad rose a good four inches before settling back on his heels, slightly dazed. Oh no, this was not the same woman who held him off for three excruciating weeks. For some inexplicable reason Piper was making a complete about face and lowering her barricades. Chad wasn’t complaining.
Only someone who’s endured a self-imposed diet for one too many days only to find themselves suddenly confronted by a buffet table set with all of their favorites could understand this kind of surrender. Piper was overwhelmed by the compulsion to feast, the need to gorge on what she denied herself.
To hell with being seduced. If she was going to cave in to her needs, she was going to be an active player. There was nothing ambiguous about the way her lips moved over Chad, tasting and licking, sucking his chin, his lobe. He let her mood and the momentum she set carry him along on the current. Her hands returned to his chest and she clutched his shirt then proceeded to devour every bare inch of skin she could reach.
“Are you always this aggressive?” he asked, the words followed by yet another deep moan. Chad pulled her head back and went for her throat while one of his hands slipped up under the front of her shirt.
“No.” She laughed and gasped, breathless and impatient. “Oh god, kiss me again, please!”
With one hand on the back of her head, the other cupping her breast, Chad obliged. They parried and twirled, thrust and stroked until Piper trembled. If Chad thought by her response that he finally wrested the advantage away from her he was mistaken. Piper easily took it back again by sliding her hand down his body and pressing his straining fly. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
He drew a shaky breath and caught her wrist. “Careful.”
She ignored the warning. “But I need to know.”
She shook off his hand then popped the button on his jeans. Chad sighed with relief as the constricting zipper eased down. What happened next was downright embarrassing. His swollen cock sprang through his open fly like a novelty snake shooting out of a can of peanuts.
Piper’s delighted laugh helped. “Quick out of the gate, aren’t you?”
Cocky Charley Jensen doesn’t mince words. She knows how to handle herself, doesn’t shy away from hard work, loves tinkering with her pickup, and is far more comfortable with a tool belt hanging off her hips tan an apron. However, Charley’s a failure at personal relationships, with more experience throwing punches and insults than her arms around someone. She’s way out of her comfort zone when she strays across a clean cut babe, emphasis on babe, stranded in the woods. Her immediate cool and dismissive assessment of Drake Carver is entirely wrong — though correcting someone this opinionated isn’t easy.
But don’t let this biologist’s Oxford shirt fool you. Drake’s tough, used to roughing it, and not afraid to be tested. He’s just never encountered a woman quite like Charley which, in his opinion, makes her ideal for his purposes. Unfortunately, she’s not easy to win over. It will take an act of heroism to prove his mettle. However, time is running out and theirs aren’t the only sparks flying in the woods.Excerpt:
The storm passed through sometime during the night, the hard rain gradually tapering off to steady drips off the roof. Charley was in a deep sleep when she was slowly roused by a change in sound. Peeling one eye open, then the other, she listened carefully. That was definitely water but it wasn’t falling outside.
Charley rolled over and silently opened the bedside drawer and drew out her Smith and Wesson thirty-eight. Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed across the dim room and opened the door, cocking her head to listen. Someone was in her bathroom.
She tiptoed to the door and tested the knob. It turned in her hand. Taking two deep bracing breaths, Charley kicked the door open and raised the gun.
“Bad idea, dickweed!” she yelled then dropped her arms as Drake whirled around, soap running down his wondrous body, his hands buried in his sudsy hair. Foam dripped from his elbows.
Drake’s eyes were glued to the pistol hanging against her thighs. “You pulled a gun on me? You have a gun?”
Charley was staring too. His elbows weren’t the only things dripping soap. “A girl has to protect herself,” she said finally.
“Do you even know how to fire that thing?”
“Of course. I’ve been shooting since I was ten and what the hell are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be back yet.”
Drake stepped back under the spray and slowly turned, rinsing off from head to toe. Charley was more than happy to wait for his answer. God, that man had a body.
He shut off the water and Charley tossed him the towel hanging from the bar next to her.
“Thanks,” he said, drying off.
“What are you doing here?” she repeated, feeling a little warm and anxious all of a sudden.
“I got caught out in the storm,” he said, wrapping the towel around his hips and finger combing his wet hair back.
His dark whiskers gave him a rakish, bad boy look. She liked it—a little too much.
“Don’t shave,” she said without thinking. Oh piss.
“Nothing,” she said hastily, blushing like a fool. “You got caught in the storm?”
“It snapped my tent pole, soaked everything I had with me. As soon as it was light enough to navigate out of there I headed back.”
“And you came here,” she said with a little smile.
Drake’s eyes swept over her, head to toe, and he smiled back. “I came here.”
Such a simple admission and yet it made Charley’s grateful heart skitter and whine excitedly in her chest. “I’m glad. Are you hungry, thirsty?”
“Happy to see you?” he asked with a wicked grin.
Her eyes dropped to his towel and she laughed. “Pretty tough to argue with that. Come on.”
Find it on Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo
Friends and Lovers
Can the man of Lauren’s dreams save her from the man in her nightmares?
Wes Dunlop was a hot commodity in high school and the ruin of good reputations, so it was easy to criticize the guy when his sister did it too. Then Lauren McKay actually met her best friend’s brother, and she was intrigued. When he came to her rescue, she was doomed. Afraid to admit her change of heart, Lauren hid her secret from both of them.
Fifteen years later Wes is back. Now a dedicated cop, he’s determined to win Lauren—the girl he can’t forget and the only one his sister demanded he leave alone. But he finds that Lauren’s life is a lot more complicated than he imagined.
Personal tragedy made Lauren a fierce defender of battered women. However, when a dangerous gunman tracks his wife to Lauren’s shelter, the protector becomes the target. Her life suddenly in the balance, nothing will stop Wes from doing everything in his power to rescue her.
Lauren’s heart started thumping wildly as Wes moved closer and lifted the beer out of her hand. He set it aside and cupped her neck. His lips brushed hers, and they were soft and full of promise. She wound her arms around him and held on tight as the kiss deepened.
Wes lowered Lauren to the cushions and smiled. “Just so you know…this is on purpose.”
Then his mouth sealed over hers and his tongue slipped inside to caress hers. Lauren moaned and arched against Wes, hooking her leg around him. His large palm covered her breast and he gave it a gentle squeeze.
Sighing against her cheek, he asked, “Do you have any idea how many times over the years I’ve thought about touching you like this?” His voice sounded rough as he nuzzled into her neck.
Lauren turned her face into his shoulder and confessed, “No way could it be close to the numbers I’ve racked up.”
He pulled back and grinned. “You don’t say? Just how far did you get in these fantasies of yours?”
“I have the right to remain silent.”
“Sure you do, but I bet you won’t.”
Lauren shuddered at the molten heat in his eyes. That was a wager she wasn’t taking.
Coming January 21, 2013 from Beachwalk Press.
If you like romance with heart, heat, and humor, please visit my website Tara Mills Romance for more upcoming titles, musings, and my quirky blogs. You can also find me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter – Tara Mills 16. Thank you for joining me here today.