Thursday, March 22, 2012

Lucky 7 Excerpt

I'm rising to the challenge of the lucky seven blog post excerpt after being tagged by Pamela Turner.

Rules are:

1. Go to page 77 in current manuscript.
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy the next 7 lines, making no changes.
4. Tag 7 more authors via Facebook.

Here's mine from Flip Side of Sin, the third book in the Sinners and Saints series:

Any doubt this would be a quick and painless visit effectively died, though he supposed it was his own fault for having nourished that hope to begin with. Quick and painless were not words one associated with the former Hell Queen. It was one of many things leading to their split, though the word count on that particular list might never be determined.

Lilith had been beautiful once, and many would claim that beauty had only magnified with time. Yet where he’d once seen promise remained nothing but a hollow junkie. Someone who didn’t see people so much as stepping stones—someone whose mere existence had once filled him with hope, only to leave him with a shattered image of humanity centuries had not yet pieced back together.

Yes, his lovely ex-wife.

Coming soon from Ellora's Cave: Elevated Exposure

I am beyond ecstatic to report I have a new erotic contemporary romance contracted with Ellora's Cave. Details -- like release dates, cover, excerpts, and the like -- are all forthcoming. The most I can say is I definitely have an erotic contemporary romance entitled Elevated Exposure coming out with Ellora's Cave.

Here be the tentative blurb.

Ever since Kenzie Drake walked into his office, Lennon Bishop’s world has been upside down. And while company policy prevents him from pursuing her, a harmless crush couldn’t hurt.

Then it arrived. A tape marked FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. While he had no idea what was on the tape before popping it in the VCR, a naked Kenzie, touching herself, was the last thing he expected. And though Lennon tries hard to forget it, his harmless crush quickly matures into an overwhelming obsession.

Kenzie Drake has no idea why her boss fired her, or why he couldn't do it to her face. All she knows is she's been kicked to the curb with no job and a brother to support. When the plaintiff in Lennon's most prestigious case offers her a lot of money for a quick B&E, she doesn't have to think hard before saying yes. Only when she breaks into Lennon’s apartment, she finds more than she bargained for.

Lennon couldn’t have predicted coming home to a burglarized apartment. Kenzie couldn’t have predicted Lennon catching her in the elevator. And neither could predict the building losing power just after the elevator doors slide shut.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Excerpt: A Friend In Need - A New Liquid Silver Erotic Paranormal Romance, Coming April 30

Dropping by today for a quickie teaser from my upcoming release. Hope you enjoy!

As far as birthdays go, university librarian Clarice St. Clair hasn’t had a string of successful celebrations, and her twenty-fifth doesn’t look to be any different. It’s not enough that the sexy subject of her schoolgirl crush walked in on her with her pantyhose around her ankles, but now her mother has dropped possibly the largest bomb in the history of large metaphoric bombs.

Happy birthday. You’re about to become a succubus.

Professor Weston Ryans has known Clarice since her days as one of his students. Though now they are nothing more than friendly colleagues, he clearly recalls her enthusiasm, her wit, and the litany of sinful things he wanted to do with her after hours. After catching her with her nylons around her ankles, he decides to smooth things over, but ends up hearing his favorite former student is the bargaining piece in a demon contract. And Weston knows something about demon contracts—he lost his father to one.

Suddenly everything is thrown into question. Clarice is about to change, but she doesn’t believe it. Weston is determined to help, but he doesn’t know how, and the clock is ticking. Yet when the transformation starts, Clarice finds herself hungry for one thing…and Weston is happy to cater to her needs.


“Well ... I dunno, but that’s kinda what I tell myself.” A long breath rolled through Weston’s lips. “And your soul is not being ripped away. You’re becoming something else.”

“A succubus.”

“That’s right.”

“A being that likes sex.”

“Feeds off sex,” he clarified. “You’ll need it to survive.”

“Yeah, yeah. Do I at least get to like it?”

“I’d hope so.”

Clarice crossed her arms and sat back. “She said it’s supposed to start soon, you know. The transformation. Didn’t you just say a succubus drains the life outta anyone they ... you know.” She gestured crudely. “Fuck?”

“Depends on the succubus,” Weston said, pointing at the open page before him. “Human hybrids operate like vampires, though, so ... yes. You’ll pretty much sap whoever you ... umm, fuck.”

Clarice wet her lips. It likely wasn’t the best time to mention that talking about sex, even in casual reference, had done things to her libido it ought not. She wasn’t twelve years old and she had enough sensibility about sex not to become a panty-throwing, swooning teenage type at the mere mention. Yet the second the word dropped off Weston’s tongue, something in her gut stirred, and a small shock tickled her clit.

Oh, not good.

“The life?” she whispered, wiggling in her seat. “I don’t wanna be responsible for ... you know, draining life. And Pixley said it was going to start almost immediately.”

“The transformation.”


Weston met her eyes again, and a spark of heat singed through her body. Clarice squirmed once more, doing her best to ignore the sudden warmth in her skin and the moisture pooling between her legs. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

The power of suggestion was not to be underestimated. No way just talking about sex could make her...

Another rush of heat crashed and she had her answer. Her skin burned and she felt positively drenched between her thighs. Hot, aching, and in desperate need of contact. At once all her senses kicked in, and her nostrils flooded with the scent of woods and leather, of aftershave and ... Weston.


“It’s not as bad as all that,” Weston said.

“I kill who I fuck. Define not bad?”

“Who said kill? I never said kill.”

“You said sap. What does that mean if not kill?”

“Sap? Pretty much means sap.”

“Like the stuff in trees?”

Weston growled, and the sound did little more than make her insides tingle. “No,” he barked. “I mean you’ll ... it’s like a battery. Say we were to—”

“Fuck?” she coughed.

“Have sex,” he clarified, as though the terminology mattered.

Her body was primed and ready to jump across the table, tear his pants down his legs, impale itself on his hard cock, and ride him like a bronco.

Clarice coughed, shoving the seat back and springing to her feet. “No,” she said. “No, no, no, no.”

Weston stood, as well. “Well, I’m not suggesting we have sex. I’m just saying if we did, you wouldn’t kill me. Not in this state. I’d just be a little useless for a while.”

A warm, naked, Weston stretched across her mattress. Clarice’s knees about buckled, her hands shaking and the heat between her legs almost too much to bear the strain of walking. “My God...”


“I think you should leave.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t know how much of this I can take.”

“How much of what you can take?”

“I pretty much want all of it.”

Weston blinked. “All of what?”

“What I can take.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

Another wave washed over her. Clarice lost her footing and went sailing to the floor, her back crashing against the wall. “Shit!”

“Shit,” Weston echoed, tripping over his feet to help her up.

If he touched her, it was all over. Clarice held up a hand. “You stay there.”


“Back. Just over there. And don’t talk about sex.”

“Don’t...” It took a moment, but understanding finally dawned in Weston’s eyes. Understanding followed by something she could only identify as masculine pride. “Why, Ms. St. Clair...”

God, the things the man did with his voice. Was he trying to get her...

Clarice’s eyes narrowed. “Just stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking. Standing close. Being alive in my apartment. Go be alive somewhere else.”

Weston shrugged. “Seems you don’t have much of a choice if you wanna survive the next two days. You need sex. So take it from me.”

Something itched the back of her throat. She flexed her fingers and worked her neck from side to side. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Sure I do,” he said, grinning one of those grins that made the coeds go weak-kneed, and she was no exception. “Take it from me.”

The tickling sensation matured into an inhuman growl, one that seemed to seize the walls and floors and consume all in a cloud of hot, aching need. In all her years she’d never felt at all out of control. Not once. Not even the few times she drank until the room grew fuzzy or took a hit off her friend’s funny-looking cigarette. Now, though, now all sense of command she possessed had simply vanished.

If he didn’t run, she’d take him. And she wouldn’t show mercy.

“I’ll sap you,” she said, though the words came out more as a sultry purr than the warning she’d intended.

“No, you won’t. You’re still young in the transformation.”

“How ... ahhh, how do you know these things?”

“Years of study.” Weston was suddenly up close, his chest pressed against her small breasts. A trembling breath rolled off Clarice’s lips, pangs of longing shooting down her diminutive resistance. “It’s me or it’s someone else, and I know what I’m getting into.”

“I don’t.”

“I’ll guide you.”

Whatever she wanted to say, if there had been anything aside from a mixture of vowels and consonants to form actual words, disappeared the second his mouth descended upon hers. No more fighting. She surrendered, her body both weak with desire and surging with strength that felt too good to question, but similarly nothing like anything she’d ever touched. Whether it was the rush of the moment or his kiss, she didn’t know, but one touch, one hint of what she could have, had her convictions checked at the door. He was warm, inviting, tasted of coffee and cinnamon, and she wanted to devour him whole.

Coming April 30 from Liquid Silver Books.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Porn v. plot

I will admit; at times, I'm not in the mood for substance. I've had a long day and as a result, am tired, cranky, and in the mood for something fast and raunchy. I don't want to waste time being intellectually stimulated by the characterization, intricate plot, or the dynamics between the hero and heroine. I want clothes flying, bodies thrusting, and explicit detail of what is sticking what. I want the sort of literature that gives our industry the shitty reputation it has among mainstream presses.

But this is hardly the norm. If I wanted porn, there are plenty of outlets I could use. And if I wrote straight porn, I'd likely be a whole lot wealthier. Have you seen the stats titles like "Doing It For Daddy" have on Amazon? It's downright depressing, though not at all surprising. Why? Sex sells, and it sells a lot.

That's not to say the romance industry alone isn't a good one for which to write. The transition from brick and mortar stores to an e-store environment is definitely in motion, but people are resistant to change. With as many fans as the Kindle or Nook might currently boast, small-press authors aren't as likely to feel the monetary success.

Then there's a fine line between mainstream romance and erotic romance. Erotic romance, as stated earlier, has a shitty reputation. Hell, mainstream romance -- successful as it is -- is arguably one of the most belittled genres. Throw in naughty words like "cock" and "pussy," and the reputation sinks even lower.

What is the justification for this, if any? Love is one of the most universal themes in existence, and sex is a basic human function, and while it has been commercialized, that doesn't make it something of which to be ashamed. The writers and readers of erotic romance focus just as much on the love story as they do the naughty bits -- god knows, I do. If I don't feel chemistry between the characters, I take zero pleasure in reading or writing a love scene. And my favorite part of writing a romance is the interaction between the characters -- the discussions, debates, and dramas that surface. Sure, the hot smexing is a lot of fun, but it isn't the reason I'm an enthusiast of the genre. As I said, if it were, I'd be a much wealthier woman.

There is nothing wrong with reading for heat, or writing a story that has more sex than substance. But some erotic romance authors have more to say in their works than just boy meets girl. Some of us have more story than sex. There is no reason larger themes can't be explored, or why we can't make an effort to breakdown the stereotype. And while I don't think the erotic romance authors or readers should dismiss sex as something of which to be ashamed, I know a damn many author whose erotic romances are involved, well-developed tales that just happen to have hot sex in them.

I wonder what it would take to get that image out there. To break the stigma of "dirty women writing for horny women." It's sexist and insulting, and it's time we took the genre back.


Saturday, March 3, 2012

ILLUSIONS -- A new exciting release from Kacey Hammell!

I'm thrilled to have my friend and one heck of a talented lady on my blog today. Her latest release, Illusions, just debuted from Decadent Publishing. You'll find the blurb below, as well as an excerpt that I guarantee will leave you hungry for more!

By Kacey Hammell
Book 1: In the Arms of the Law
Publisher: Decadent Publishing

Protection. Adventure. Love.
It's all found within The Arms of the Law...

Detective Isabella Knowles, a tough-as-nails cop, lives by the law, and knows what she wants out of life. And it doesn't include marriage or all that comes with it. Everything Isabella has ever known seems like an illusion when a new relationship makes her feel more alive than ever before. She isn’t happy about it and fights it every step of the way.

Burned by his fiancée years ago, seer and P.I., Brady Jacobs never wants another commitment in his life. But his bachelorhood and heart are threatened when he has one of his visions and see a killer striking too close to the woman he has recently come to love.

Danger lurks close to home and neither Brady nor Isabella like that they can’t control every situation…especially matters of the heart.

Kacey Hammell, © 2012

“Cat got your tongue, or what?”

Her head came up as Alicia’s voice chased away her meandering thoughts. Ali stood behind her desk with hands on her hips, a very familiar stance. It was her ‘I want some answers now’ pose.

Taking a deep breath, Isabella fought to regain the air that had suddenly left her body and tried to ignore the light-headedness from the photo she had just seen.

“For God’s sake, Alicia. You know Brady and I are friends. We joke around and have a great time. People, a lot of them, naturally assume we are a couple. You’ve thought it yourself. You also know it’s complete bullshit.”

Isabella floundered, afraid to look her cousin in the eye and explain away the lie she was telling her. Heading to the window overlooking West Street, she wished she had an easy answer. Brady Jacobs was one of the men she trusted with her life and had great respect for.

When he came home from the Marines ten years ago, he had changed. A different man from the one she’d known in high school, he had lost some of the humor and laughter she had come to identify with him. While in the Marines, he’d fallen in love with a woman named Sandy. They’d met in Thailand and had become engaged. But once she learned the truth about his abilities, Sandy had dumped him and remained overseas, declaring she never wanted to see him again.

He had come home a harsher, more abrupt man. One Isabella didn’t care to know at first. But as she trained hard for her detective’s shield, he was suddenly a rooting supporter who hoped she would ace the exam and obtain her dream.

It was as if he’d known long before she did she’d aced the exam. If it hadn’t been for him, she might never have kept after it as she had. There were times when she had wanted to give up her dream, but he wouldn’t let her. His ability to see things—visions of death, abuse, and other acts—made him an asset to the police, and to her during her struggles. But there was the odd time when Brady would see something great, something to make the gruesome visions he had seem small in comparison.

Looking out into the bustling street, Isabella spoke quietly. “Sometimes Alicia, you forget. I don’t need a man in my life. Least of all romantic entanglements. That’s your area. One you can gladly have all to yourself.”

“What a load of crap. You and your stupid belief about marriage and love not being for you. It’s just ridiculous,” Alicia said adamantly. “And you know what, it’s getting old. Hell, the excuse will be written on your tombstone the day you bite the dust.”

Chuckling and feeling some tension leave the room, Isabella had to rib her cousin just a bit. “Bite the dust? What the hell are you talking about? You saying my time is coming? You know something I don’t? I plan to live for decades yet. Alone!”

“Whatever. Your father now thinks Brady Jacobs is the boyfriend who will be coming to the party next month. He’s very happy you’ve chosen a hometown boy, a celebrity himself, and an upstanding kind of guy. I think he’ll be picking out china patterns for you next.” Disgust was clear in Alicia’s voice.

“So what will you do? I told you before to come up with someone to take with you. A pretend boyfriend if you will, just to gain you some time and get your dad off your back about babies and leaving this job behind.”

“I won’t do that, Alicia. Lying to my father is not an option. He’ll get over it. There is no man in my life now, nor ever. At least not one for a happy ever after. It’s just not possible.” Her voice cracked as she spoke of the impossibilities. She only hoped her cousin didn’t catch it. Her mother’s death was never far from her thoughts. She would never put a man through what her father had gone through, nor did she ever want to feel such pain herself over a husband.

To her, it wasn’t worth it. To love and then lose them just didn’t seem worth it.


“Forget it, Alicia. I don’t want to discuss this anymore. I’ll deal with my father and will call the Gazette to find out about this photo. We are hardly newsworthy. Especially when there is no story.”

God, don’t strike me down.

“Sometimes, I think you have your priorities all wrong,” Alicia said sadly.

“Maybe I just need to get laid. Whatcha think?” Isabella hoped to see a smile on her face, but as she looked over her shoulder, all she saw was sadness. A look she had become accustomed to, as her cousin wanted her to find Mr. Right.

Mr. Man for the Night sounded much better to Isabella.

“Laid, Izzy? What’s that? I don’t think either of us remembers what it’s all about,” Alicia uttered, amusement finally percolating through her voice.

“Well, isn’t this an enlightening discussion, ladies? Shall I throw my last sexual encounter into the ring and we can share in the misery?”

Isabella jumped and spun around at the sound of Ethan Carter’s voice as he entered the office.

Blushing with embarrassment, she could barely look him in the eye. “Hey, Ethan. How you doing?”

“Obviously better than you.” Ethan’s eyes cut to his partner’s desk, where the newspaper still rested, open to page four and the photo of her with Brady. His gaze flickered her way, making her feel lower than dirt. He set his coffee down on his desk, pasting a false smile on his face. “You two always commiserate together or what? Kinda early for sex talk, isn’t it?”

She could see he was only pretending he didn’t care about the photo on the desk, but as always, Ethan’s face conveyed every emotion he felt.

“You know us girls, Ethan,” Alicia ribbed her partner, obviously picking up on the tension. “Sex, sex, sex, we talk about it all the time. We want it all the more, too.” She chuckled.

Laughing authentically now, Ethan ribbed her in return. “Sugar, I tell you daily, all you have to do is call me. Day….” He lifted his stare to Isabella. “Or night.”

She shifted her gaze to Alicia, only to see a look of frustration and hurt cross her face.

Oh, God. Don’t tell me….

“What’s this? A party and no one told me?”

At the newest addition to the conversation, Isabella’s pulse accelerated double-time. She looked toward the door.

Man, I don’t need this today.

Brady Jacobs walked—no, sauntered—into the office and heading toward Ethan, spared her not a glance.

Black denim jeans encased his firm, shapely ass like a second skin. His black T-shirt with sleeves rolled over his beautiful biceps showed off his sexy, muscular build. He looked good enough to eat. A flood of heat coursed through her body. This was a man who was confident in himself and when he entered the room, there was a ripple effect. Everyone sat up to take notice of him and women practically swooned, eager to catch his eye. But Brady rarely gave any one woman the time of day. He was adamant about keeping his personal life private, and his no-commitment rule was always in full force.

Kacey Hammell's Illusions

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Buried Alive 2: Buried Harder

The next couple months are going to be very hectic; I'm not sure how many of my readers come by to check my blog. Since I do a weekly update over at Romancing the Muses, I'm not too diligent about keeping this up to speed.

In short: edits. Pretty much everywhere I turn around, there are edits. I have a total of five manuscripts either on my desk or headed toward my desk demanding attention. Then there are edits for my own upcoming release, A Friend In Need. I'm also participating in Nix's Blind Date Event, or rather, Ryker from Know Thine Enemy has been asked to stop by, and Izzie's letting him. My erotic contemporary novella (yes, I occasionally write those!) has been accepted for publication, and that's without getting into all the other stuff I have going on in the not writer-ly, editor-ly part of my life.


On the plus side, aside from a couple minor and at least one major setback, 2012 is going according to plan. Two coming soon's and though Book 3 of the Sinners and Saints series has stalled again due to my editing obligations, It's a good 1/3 of the way complete. Hopefully by the next time I kick the dust off this blog and post an update, I'll have an excerpt or two to share.

Until then...well, I'll be somewhere in The Pile.