Villain-Tines Blog Hop with Secret Cravings Publishing

05/17/2012

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I'm turning my blog over to Jaydyn Chelcee for the weekend (Friday-Sunday). Take it away Jaydyn Chelcee!
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Good Morning Readers,

Welcome to the Villain-Tines Blog Hop. As an author, we almost always have a villain, the hero or heroine’s worst enemy. As a writer, you have to have a pretty good understanding of what makes your villain tick. Is he/she going to be the character everyone loves to hate, or will there be sympathy for what turned an ordinary human being or magical creature into the villain it becomes? One of my most villainous characters is Smitt Davis, a vicious serial killer from the Montana men Series. I thought I’d take the time to ask this character a few questions, see if we can learn a few things about why he chose a life of crime. Enjoy!

1.       Why do you hate the hero/heroine? Well, I tell you, I had my bodies all set up nice and neat. I was just waiting until I found the right women to place at my left and right at the dinner table. Then Danger and Lacey came along and interfered with all my plans, moving out the bodies, sending them off for autopsies. What’s a serial killer supposed to do after that?

2.      Did you have a good childhood? I had a terrible childhood. I saw my mother murdered by her mother. Then my grandmother took over my raising. She ruled with a cold, harsh hand. No wonder I turned into a serial killer.

3.      Have you ever been arrested? What for? No. So far I’ve managed to avoid the law. I have to admit, having Danger on my tail is a bit daunting though.

4.      Are you simply misunderstood or just plain mean? I have to admit, I’m just plain mean. I enjoy my role as a serial killer.

5.       Do you think your life justifies your actions? Oh, yes.

6.      Do you own a gun? Certainly. What decent serial killer wouldn’t own a gun? Of course, I much prefer a knife. I just love carving up my victims.

7.      Have you ever killed anyone? Sssh. That isn’t something I want to discuss at this moment the readers, you know. They tend to get a queasy at detail like that.

8.     Do you care that readers may despise you? Oooh, I wouldn’t be doing my job if the readers don’t hate me, now would I?

9.      Do you think your name should be in the title? Or is it already? No, it isn’t, but then, it isn’t really my story. It’s Danger and Lacey’s. I just support their story and make it more interesting.

10.  Did the author give you enough space in the book to tell your story? In book one, In the Arms of Danger, she mainly hints at my existence, but in book two, No Holds Barred, she gives the reader more insight to my character and just how evil I am.


11.   Do you plan to make an appearance in another of this author’s books? As the saying goes, I’ll be back!


Here's the Blurb followed by an Excerpt:

Every woman needs a little danger in her life, but what's perilous about a wildlife shoot in the beautiful Montana wilderness? Armed with only a camera, Lacey Weston treks through the rough terrain and captures more on film than she bargains for—the murder of a young woman.

Fearing for her life, Lacey flees the scene and stumbles straight into the path of a man who strongly resembles the murderer. Is Sheriff Danger Blackstone, with his piercing gray eyes and rugged physique, be the man in her undeveloped pictures?

With nowhere else to run and hide, Lacey must decide if she dares to trust her life to the only person who can protect her, one whose apparent grudge against white females makes him less than approachable—the very man she suspects of murder.

A suspenseful romance—packed with action, hard-bodied cowboys, and long, hot nights—gives a whole new meaning to the Wild West.

EXCERPT/IN THE ARMS OF DANGER/R-RATED

A scowl darkened his face as he tore at the flaps. “Coming in,” he announced and entered the tent. Clenching his fists in frustration, Danger froze the instant he straightened and saw Lacey.

She stood across from him holding a towel in front of her. It didn’t take long to realize she was naked behind that miniscule barrier. Her eyes were big, gold pools of light. Her breasts rose and fell behind the terry cloth.

Danger swallowed hard. His gaze zeroed in on the rounded fullness he knew lay there. “Damn it, Lacey. I said I was coming in.”

“I know.” She gave a little shrug and dropped the towel. It floated to the nylon floor and landed near her bare feet. His gaze followed its descent and for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her toes. Those intriguing, bright pink toenails held his attention. Oh, shit. Now he knew he’d lost his mind. He’d never had a fetish for toes, painted or otherwise.

Slowly, he slid his gaze up past her slender ankles, her knees, up her thighs where a row of healing stitches followed the line of her inner thigh. He settled his gaze on the intriguing nest of honey-blonde curls. Danger swallowed hard before moving on to the concave of her belly, the tiny turned in navel, past the little mole just beneath her right breast he’d discovered when he’d stripped her before and finally to her up-tilted breasts where her pink-as-strawberries nipples tempted and invited. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

Lacey stood there, head bowed, her skin flushed bright pink.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

She raised her head, her eyes questioning.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. You’re beautiful.” Danger reached for the top button on his jeans.

“Let me,” she whispered, her cheeks pink and a hint of shyness in her voice. She moved to stand in front of him, a little hesitant. “I want to undress you. I want to touch you all over, kiss you all over.”

His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat and no words formed on his tongue. He nodded certain he’d never be able to speak again. Her fingers trembled against his belly. She fumbled with the button on his jeans, looked up, licked her lips. “It’s already unbuttoned.”

He nodded, his lungs aching for air.

She moved to the next button working it through its slot. The backs of her fingers brushed the tip of his erection. Jesus, if she took much longer he’d die standing here. He gripped her shoulders. “Lacey.” He growled her name.

“What?” Her eyes widened. “What?” she whispered again.

He lowered his head and anchored his mouth against hers. She shuddered. Her fingers curled into his biceps and she leaned into the kiss, accepted the penetration of his tongue, a hot, wet mating with hers. 

“Mmm.” Lacey’s eyes fluttered shut. He nibbled at her mouth with a leisurely thoroughness that intoxicated. There was no hurry. No need to rush. He simply relished the delicious taste of her mouth. 

He tightened his hands on her waist and tugged her closer. There was no space now between their bodies. Hardness pressed against softness. Male against female. Invitation given and accepted.

Danger moved restlessly. He stroked the pads of his thumbs across her tight nipples, skimmed his fingers down her back and cupped the curves of her buttocks. He loved the feel of her skin, so soft and smooth beneath his fingertips. “Touch me, Princess,” he whispered against her mouth. He worked off his jeans then brought her hands to his hard shaft. “I’m dying for your touch. I need to feel your hands on me.”

He captured her hand and brought it to the hard, swollen ridge pressed tautly against her belly. He looked down at her slender fingers wrapped around his aching cock. The broad head of his penis filled her hand. He heard her stunned gasp at his size. He was thick, too thick for her fingers to reach completely around.

“I don’t think we’ll fit,” she said. She licked her lips and eyed his jutting cock with doubt. “You — you’re so —”

“We’ll fit,” he whispered against her ear and closed his hand over hers, guiding her smooth strokes up and down the hard length of his aching shaft. “I’ll go easy, we’ll fit.’’   

“You kissed me,” she said and cupped the spongy sac at the base of his burgeoning cock. “After the little incident with the rattlesnake, you kissed me. I haven’t been the same since.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah? Mmm, don’t stop, sweetheart. That feels good.”

“Twice!” she accused, sounding a little breathless. “You kissed me twice, maybe even three times. I lost count.” She gently squeezed the nuggets, halted the stroking that was driving him insane and walked a fingertip up the endless length of his shaft.

“Yeah,” he breathed huskily.  “So I did, Princess, but those weren’t kisses. Not real kisses and certainly not the kind I want to give you. Think of them as appetizers.” He moaned when she explored the tip of his shaft, smoothing a finger over the head and catching the pearly drop of fluid there. “And my appetite has barely been whetted.”

She caught her bottom lip with her teeth in that sexy way that drove him nuts. He gasped as she continued to explore his cock with hesitant fingers. His eyes darkened with warning. “Harder,” he instructed. “I won’t break. And if you expect gentle, little cat, you’ve chosen the wrong man.” He took a deep, ragged breath.  “I’m not gentle, Lacey.  I don’t know how to be. Tenderness is something I’ve lacked in my life for more years than I care to remember.” He moaned, moved against her hand like a rising swell. “I’m as savage as I look. I like my sex hot, hard, and deep.”

Lacey swallowed hard, her eyes round. A hint of red tinged her cheek bones.

“Be very sure you want this, little cat, because if I touch you, make you mine, there’s no going back. I won’t go back.” “I don’t want to go back. I want you; so much I can barely stand it. Make me yours, Danger.”

His breath chugged out in a long, slow hiss. “Jesus, Lacey, I’m giving you the chance to say no. Take it now, while I can still stop.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not asking you to stop.”

“Good. I won’t. I told you, I won’t. If we start this, we finish it. I’ve waited forever for you to come into my life. I’m not going back to just existing and marking time on the calendar.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she breathed.  

AUTHOR BIO:

Jaydyn Chelcee has spent most of her life in Oklahoma, but at the same time, she’s traveled extensively, at least in the western half of the United States. One of her favorite settings in her contemporary western romances is Montana. She’s the author of the best selling Montana Men Series, In the Arms of Danger, No Holds Barred, Too Close to the Fire, and Playing For Keeps.

Coming soon from Secret Cravings publishing: WILD, book five of the Montana Men Series.

Available now from Secret Cravings Publishing: Extended release of Witch’s Brew and Witch’s Heart, books one and two of the Winslow Witches of Salem Series written under Tabitha Shay.

All current releases available at Amazon.com

Buy links: http://www.tabithashay.blogspot.com
http://www.jaydynchelcee.com
http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com

Email: jaydyn@jaydynchelcee.com



Please leave a comment for a chance to win an E-copy of the extended version of In the Arms of Danger. Be sure you leave a way we contact you as well.


Click on a link to check out the other interviews!

Imogene Nix

Cynthia Arsuaga

Tabitha Shay

Jean Joachim

Marie DuFour

Dawne Prochilo

Sandy Sullivan

Kellie Kamryn

Natalie Bates

Molly Daniels

Shannon West




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Down in the Evidence Room from "The Tenth Legion"

03/08/2012

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Setting the Scene:
Lycan Lorna Winters leads a party of high ranking police brass and representatives of Subspecies, Inc. to the Orlado Police Department evidence room to demonstrate the facility's security.

The Scene Unfolds:

The floor above the morgue contained the evidence room. In an age of utility rationing, they were the only completely air-conditioned floors in the building. When the party approached with Lorna in the lead, a bored, sleepy little clerk raised her eyes from a crossword puzzle. She sat on a battered, wooden folding chair behind a steel Dutch door; metal bars composed the other half. Behind her stretched a vast, rambling space of loaded metal shelves. A musty odor of old paper and, to Lorna’s lycan senses, small animal droppings, seeped around the clerk from the room in the rear.

“As you can see, the door is steel, set in a reinforced concrete wall,” Lorna pointed out.

Upon recognizing the Assistant Chief from his uniform brass, the clerk’s mouth dropped. Her eyes acquired an appearance of apoplectic shock. Lorna knew in the drab, quiet world of evidence, with only the inanimate for company, Assistant Chiefs existed as mythological entities, whose appearance portended events like saints coming down from Heaven, cattle giving birth to monsters, or the sun reversing its direction in the sky.

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Lorna's Valentine Rose

02/23/2012

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SETTING THE SCENE:

Facing the prospect of spending Valentines' evening alone, Police lieutenant and lycan Lorna Winters receives an unexpected invitation to an exclusive restaurant, accompanied by a dozen long stemmed roses. As she contemplates the windfall, former lover and partner Mike Geurin approaches.

THE SCENE UNFOLDS:

A single, slightly wilted rose pushed into the space between them. “I was all set to use it as the way to get in your knickers tonight, but Clarence Darrow stole my thunder.”

Taking the rose, she sampled its nearly depleted bouquet. Before she could thank him, he followed the deliveryman’s track, shuffling down the aisle in the direction of the elevators and home. A second or two before he reached it, the doors opened. A blonde woman from Robbery Division stepped out. Holding the door with one foot, she kissed him on the mouth. Taking his arm, they stepped back inside; a second later they were gone, leaving Lorna alone with the oncoming shift gathering around. Her relief, a thin-faced human named Shackleton, eyed her with a hostile stare as he sipped on a cup of coffee, reminding her yet again, there were no friends in Major Case, only rivals, feeling even more grateful for Mike’s presence.

Her eyes returned to the tattered rose lying across the desk blotter, fighting back a tear as the motive behind Mike’s gift dawned on her. The cheesy remark about sex was a smoke screen. The gruff old bastard knew she felt bad about being alone on this of all days and had tried to show someone cared. Twenty years ago, such an act would never have occurred to him. Did the sensitivity, along with consideration, accompany the wisdom of age? Or did part of the Twelve Step program bring it out? She didn’t have an answer.

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The Girl Ed Fell For from "The Tenth Legion"

02/16/2012

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 Lorna wondered what he saw in her. Not a lavish beauty like Cynthia or an elegant one like
Valeria, the best you could call her was cute. Ed traveled in the proper circles to meet any
number of women—like the goddaughter or an elegant relative, women who took over a room
when they entered, moving languidly among the gathering, lingering to converse or brush a kiss
on a cheek along with a brief embrace, or simply to shake a hand, to be on their way—for there
were many to enthrall. They reminded Lorna of the exquisite pink jellyfish with twenty-foot-long
tendrils drifting gracefully among the oceanic currents of the Australian reefs, only without the
deadly stingers.
By contrast, Edward White had fallen in love with a smallish, compactly built, tawny skinned
lycan with a strong will augmented by an equally strong sense of independence, who
took pride in having worked for everything she had. From habits born out of the corporation
orphanage and police training, she carried herself erect, lacking the extravagant beauty of women
like Cynthia or Valeria, but in receipt of a fair share of male attention because of her
approachability. Her dark eyes brightened upon solving a problem or a case. The legs of a
sprinter, which seemed continuously poised on the edge of an explosive display of kinetic
motion, were matched by small hands usually placed primly in front of her, but that could, like
the legs, instantly be on the move.
Lorna applied a scent to block subspecies
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Mike's Luck Runs Out from "The Tenth legion"

02/09/2012

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  Setting the Scene:

Middle aged human Mike Geurin, Lorna's former mentor and lover, lies wounded after a gunfight. While only a few years apart in age, lycan Lorna appears to be in her twenties.

The scene unfolds:

His eyes widened as he fought for breath. In the distance, a whooping siren announced the approach of the emergency vehicle. An alert uniform covered the bullet hole, allowing Mike to breathe normally. Catching his breath, Mike focused on Lorna. “At your funeral, how would I explain what happened to your new boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? You know better than that. A weekend of pounding headboards does not a relationship make.” She did her best to sound cheerful as well as witty, while tears made a straight trickle down each cheek.

“Listen to me, Princess.” Mike mustered as much passion in his tone as a collapsed lung allowed. “Don’t give up on the guy too quick. I’ve known you for almost twenty-five years and I never saw you as happy as you were when you came back from being with him. Not any time when we were together. Not ever.”

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Weekend Dirty Dozen "Cynthia Caught in the Act"

02/03/2012

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Upon opening the door to their assigned room, Samantha "Sam" Johnson, a lycan, and her mate vampire Jim White walk in on lycan protege Cynthia Meadows intimately joined to her vampire lover Juan.

The scene unfolds:
With her torso partly twisted around, the pale deltoid shape of one breast was in profile with its erect black nipple. Sable eyes fumed at us. “A little privacy would be nice.”
That snapped Sam and I out of our shock. We averted our stares and started to back out, pulling the stunned and paralyzed Maria with us. Juan now struggled with the ecstatic agony of losing concentration when on the verge of orgasm. He still pumped hard but the focus was off. Cynthia must have realized the same thing. Muttering a curse, she reached further behind the vampire. Finding the end of the string of gold beads she had previously inserted, she began pulling them out one at a time. As each passed into the light, it resisted the contracting sphincter. The focus promptly returned. As I closed the door behind us, he convulsed in orgasm.
“Well, that was special,” Sam commented, relieved to have three inches of hard oak separating us from what transpired on the other side.  

BUY LINK: http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&product_id=173&flypage=flypage.tpl&pop=0&keyword=subspecies&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1&vmcchk=1&Itemid=1
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Weekend Dirty Dozen. Morning at Lorna's

01/26/2012

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_   Lorna skimmed sinewy fingers across his naked abdomen, savoring the feel of smooth skin stretched across solid muscle, meandering toward the waistband. Noticeably more awake, he snuggled closer. The scent of his building arousal filled her senses as he turned. In the dresser mirror she watched him draw strong hands across the creamy tan of her face, from which two oversized chocolate-colored eyes viewed the world. A quick shake and dark brown hair fell into a pageboy cut. It framed an oval face in a tight bubble. Short bangs turned in on the ends, in strict compliance with police department female grooming standards. Leaning across to see the time, she paused to feel Jerry’s gaze admire the display of slim, square shoulders tapered to narrow waist, flaring back to small round hips. Firm, white buttocks hid just out of sight under the covers.

“Keep it in your pants, buster,” she said. “It’s already quarter to three.”

“That still gives us fifteen minutes,” he tentatively proffered, accompanied by soft back rubbing, igniting warmth in a different, lower part.

Turning toward the sharp-featured man, she uttered, “Morning breath be damned,” pressing her face to his.

 

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Drake's Dilemma

01/19/2012

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Drake and Kady arrive at Kady's apartment after their first date. Immediately her thoughts go to finding Precious, the Yorkie that is Drake's animal persona:

“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

That’d work too. I entered the sweet scented place under laid by essence of dog, noticeable only to shape shifters. She called after the little guy.

“Leave him be,” I said. “He had a long day supervising me.”

“No, I should find him.” She headed in the direction of her room.

“May I use the bathroom?” I shouted after her, turning toward the guest bath before she answered. Inside I started the vent fan to cover any noise I made, left the door slightly ajar, and stripped, emerging as Precious. I bumped the door closed, but not latched, and trotted toward Kady’s increasingly desperate voice calling after me.

“Oh, baby, my precious baby,” she gushed with happy relief. After a pause, she shouted in the direction of the closed bathroom door. “I found him, Drake.” At the absence of response, she shrugged, returning attention to the small canine face looking up from the floor.

Waiting until she went to use the main bathroom, I morphed back to Drake, redressed, and flushed the toilet, returning to the living room.

“I thought you may have fallen in,” she remarked at my arrival.

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Adiera Emerges from "Subspecies, Inc"

01/13/2012

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_ At my arrival Rota snapped to her feet. “Thank goodness you are here,” she said. “I have never done this to another female.” She stepped aside to give me access.

Adiera had begun to turn. Her breasts filled out and the fine brown hairs on her legs had fallen away, leaving them smooth and silky. There was a richer tone to her skin and hair. She tossed back and forth and clutched at her belly as if being tormented by something inside. Scents of anxiety and sexual arousal mingled in the air of the small cave.

“Lie still,” I said in a low soothing voice as I removed Adiera’s hands from her stomach. Gently I wedged a finger between the lips of her labia. She gasped at my penetration.

“What is happening to me?” she cried out.

“It is normal, little one,” I replied. “When it is over you’ll be beautiful.”

She looked up, smiled weakly, and parted her thighs, saying, “I trust you, Vampiro.”

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The Trip to the Contessa's Estate from "Subspecies, Inc."

01/06/2012

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_
 
"Subspecies, Inc." is nominated for Best Erotic Book in Preditors and Editors. Vote for it at: http://critters.org/predpoll/novelerot.shtml
The sequel, "Children of Subspecies" is nominated for Best Cover at: http://critters.org/predpoll/bookart.shtml

Check out the cover and read a longer excerpt by clicking on the tabs above.

BUY LINK:http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&product_id=297&flypage=flypage.tpl&pop=0&keyword=subspecies&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1&vmcchk=1&Item

                                                                                              DIRTY DOZEN
Paco placed our luggage in the trunk and took his seat behind the wheel. When the last seatbelt clicked into its lock he floored it, and we pulled into traffic with a squeal of tires and an acceleration that pressed us into the plush car seats and their strong smell of leather.

“Oh my!” Bertie’s nasally warble filled the compartment.

I looked up and Cynthia’s lavishly featured face stared back at me. “There is something to eat in the fridge,” she said.

A hundred and five miles stretched between the Bilbao Airport and Malvina’s estate. Fifteen minutes of expressway through flat, rich farmland and picturesque tile-roofed buildings gave way to steeply inclined two-lane mountain roads. I lost count of the number of times we took a blind turn at fifty miles an hour or I tremulously peered out the window at a sheer drop with only a few carved rocks as a makeshift safety rail between us and the edge.

Everyone else appeared oblivious to what I considered real peril. The whole time Cynthia faced the back, breathlessly catching up on gossip with Sam or Bertie, or playing with the children. Sam answered between mouthfuls, but I didn’t take a bite. I couldn’t disconnect my brain from the vision of two tons of black steel in a hundred foot free-fall.
       
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