PRIVATE DANCER excerpt

In August, PRIVATE DANCER will hit the shelves. I'm posting the backcover blurb and an excerpt that includes the prologue and a portion of chapter one. Beware: This is an erotic romance. A few explicit words are in this post.

BACKCOVER BLURB:

It’s been two years since Jay and Beverly divorced and Jay still can’t get her off of his mind--or out of his fantasies. Even more frustrating is that Beverly hasn’t given up her sultry job. She continues to work as a stripper at a local club--so close, yet so untouchable, except if Jay’s willing to pay the price. Old passions and jealousies lure him to the club for one last dance.

Since her divorce from Jay, Beverly has undergone past life regression sessions, where new-age therapy helps her identify who she was in a past life: Princess Camille of yore, a young European bride who attempted to make her husband, a Middle Eastern prince, fall in love with her by infiltrating his harem and becoming his most prized possession. Though different in many ways, both Camille and Beverly use their empowering, erotic dance to unleash their desire. And Beverly and Jay’s once-passionate relationship will soon reach a whole new level of sensuality.


PROLOGUE

An Independent Nation in the Mediterranean Region
Late Eighteenth Century

I always knew that Prince David Abir Rou Veli, the heir to the Neylan Empire, was going to be my husband. I, Princess Camille Renard, had been promised to him since I was a child. As a little girl, I used to imagine him as a kind-hearted boy who would grow into a romantically noble man.

But my dreams about him were nonsense.

Wildly handsome, Prince David was also spoiled and barbaric, and I dreaded the thought of becoming his bride.

Nonetheless, we were about to be wed.

At this very moment, I waited in the primary courtyard of the palace for my bridegroom to appear in a royal procession. Already I could see a throng of torches headed my way, held aloft in the night sky. Beside me were my female attendants.

Earlier, I had been groomed in an ancient method called smoothing, where my body hair had been removed with a syrupy paste and strips of muslin, leaving my pubis shamefully bare.

Afterward, they had bathed me in milk, a tradition of purification, followed by scented oils. They had also arranged my long dark hair in an elaborate style, covering their handiwork with a delicate veil that also shrouded my face.

My dress was a sparkling caftan made of the finest white silk and adorned with the most precious of jewels.

I glanced down at my hands. They had been decorated in a ritualistic blessing, where a renowned artist had painted an intricate design, using a paste made from a dried plant. This was meant to ward off evil spirits, bring luck, and increase fertility. But much to my dismay, my soon-to-be husband’s name was also hidden within the complex pattern.

Beneath my veil, I tempered my expression. Prince David’s parents, the sultan and his European-born queen, would be arriving in the royal procession, several paces behind their son.

Although the sultan took deep pride in his customs, the queen influenced the culture, as well. Some of her practices had been absorbed into society, creating mixed traditions.

Like the queen, I, too, hailed from a small European country, and my marriage had been arranged to protect alliances and retain royal bloodlines.

I understood this. I accepted it. As a child, I had been taught to speak the Neylanic language, preparing for this day.

But the one thing I could not fathom was the sultan’s harem. Although he was only permitted one wife, he kept a bevy of beautiful women at his disposal, and the queen accepted this without reservation.

Me? I did not want to be married to a man who openly called upon other women. But Prince David had a harem, too. I, of course, had been aware of this all along, but I had requested that once we were wed, he would respect my wishes and disband his harem. But he had told me, in no uncertain terms, that he intended to keep his women.

Heaven, how I hated him.

As the procession got closer, as the torches drew nearer, I detested the notion of our wedding night. I suspected that after he dutifully bedded me, he would send me back to my chambers and summon one of his other women.

A harem beauty who would curl up beside him while I soothed the ache from our coupling and battled the urge to cry myself to sleep.

CHAPTER ONE

Beverly Gilbert added a little more blush to her luminously bronzed skin, then sat back to evaluate her reflection in the mirror.

Her wedding garb consisted of skimpy lingerie and a short, flouncing white dress, where her surgically enhanced breasts spilled out over the top.

For the final touch, she clipped a rhinestone headpiece into her long, thickly waved blond hair, but she didn’t cover her face with the attached veil. She still had a bit of time to spare.

“Hey, Malibu!”

Beverly turned to the sound of her stage name. The high-pitched call had come from Delilah, another dancer at The Dusky Doll. Delilah, a chatty brunette, was dressed like a Roman goddess, and beneath her micro-mini toga was a G-string decorated with gold grape leaves.

As always, Delilah was peering out from behind the dressing room curtain, checking out the clientele.

Beverly preferred not to think about the crowd, not until it was her turn to dance and the opening song she’d requested was played.

Delilah closed the curtain and made a face. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

“What are you talking about? Why would I?”

“I think I saw your husband at the tip rail.”

Beverly started. “You mean my ex-husband?” Jay Novak, she thought, the man she’d divorced more than two years ago. “It can’t be him. He would never come here.” They’d met at the club, but they’d split up over it, too.

“Maybe it’s just some guy who looks like him.”

Yes, that had to be it. About a month ago, a man bearing a striking resemblance to Jay had sat at the tip rail with a gorgeous brunette by his side. They’d made Beverly so nervous she’d almost messed up her routine. But they’d left right after she’d danced, and she hadn’t seen them since.

“Do you want me to double check?” Delilah asked, offering to peer out from behind the curtain again. “Or you could take a quick peek yourself.”

“No. It’s fine.” What reason would Jay have for invading her turf? “I’m on soon anyway.”

“Then you’ll know for sure.”

“I already know it isn’t him.”

“He’s hot, whoever he is.”

“Delilah.”

“Sorry.” The Roman goddess adjusted a bobby pin in her loosely styled upswept hair. “I’m just making conversation.”

Beverly wanted to tell her to go make it somewhere else, but Delilah wasn’t the enemy.

So who was? Jay?

Between the whirlwind courtship and hasty vows, they hadn’t even made it past the first year. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t loved him.

Clearing him from her mind, Beverly returned her attention to the mirror and covered her face with the veil.

Once she was ready, she waited by the curtain to make her appearance. The tall, tanned, green-eyed siren.

The naughty California bride.

As the intro to Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” began to play—the song she’d picked—the DJ introduced “Malibu.”

Whoosh.

Beverly dashed through the red velvet curtain and onto the stage, scanning the tip-rail patrons. The hard-edged music pounded through her soul, but that was nothing compared to what seeing him did to her heart.

There he was. Not someone who resembled Jay. The real thing.

Gorgeous as ever, he sat parallel to the pole, at the center of the horseshoe-curved stage, which had been his favorite spot when he’d courted her.

His short, light brown hair was stylishly messy, and although he surveyed her every move, he showed no emotion. His face was a blank canvas, shrouded in male mystery.

Torn between strutting straight up to him and getting the hell out of Dodge, she headed for the pole and swung her long, lethal body around it.

If Beverly was the ultimate California girl, then Jay was the supreme California guy. As a model/actor, he had grown up in the Valley, surfing, skateboarding and snowboarding. To support his craft and his sports, he moonlighted as a fusion-style cook.

A tasty man who made tasty food. A man who’d wanted her to quit dancing once she’d become his wife.

Well, screw him, she thought. Between Jay and her family, no one supported her choices.

She climbed the pole, knowing he was watching. The club was filled with people, but he was the only one on her radar. He looked like a mirage through her filmy veil. A long, tall, forbidden drink of water.

“White Wedding” was all of four minutes and ten seconds, but already it seemed like the longest song in history.

By the time her pole work was done and she was lifting her veil, a poignant line in the second verse blasted through the speakers.

I’ve been away for so long.

As Beverly got down on her hands and knees and crawled across the stage, collecting ones and fives in the process, she was inexplicably drawn to her ex.

When she came to him, she stood up and peeled off her dress, turning around to flash him her G-stringed rear.

Was that her way of telling him to kiss her ass? She honestly didn’t know because she spun back around and unhooked her bustier, baring her full Ds.

Taking it to the next level, she licked the tips of her fingers and wet her nipples, smiling like the naughty bride she was supposed to be. If she hadn’t been such a professional, her face would’ve cracked. Flirting with him, even in a theatrical way, was painful.

He didn’t return the smile. But she had him just the same. He leaned forward in his chair, and she knew she’d just given him the makings of a hard-on. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He seemed afraid to blink, as if he would miss something, even though it was a routine he’d seen a zillion times.

Beverly stayed close enough to tease him, to make his cock stiff, but not close enough to let him breathe her in.

Then he held up a neatly folded bill, offering her a tip.

Damn. Now she had to get closer.

PROTECTING THEIR BABY won the Readers Crown!

Yep, it won in the Short Romantic Suspense Category!

As part of the prize, PROTECTING THEIR BABY will be reprinted and displayed on an end-cap at at all US Borders! It will be displayed starting August 17th to Sept. 30th!

WEDDING FAVORS (Night Owl Review)

WEDDING FAVORS got a Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews! I tried to post a link but it wouldn't work, so here's a copy of the review:

Author: Allyson James, Nikita Black, Sheri Whitefeather

Genre: Spicy Romance

Reviewed by: ELF

Wedding Favors is a trio of decadently sinful adventures experienced by daring bridesmaids who have come into contact with the magical fountain endowed with sensual powers invoked by a voodoo queen such as Marie Laveau, her daughter or another practitioner of the dark arts. The fountain’s motto, “All That You Wish” frees each of the bridesmaids to satisfy their sexual fantasies, whether it is with the owner of the maison itself, as part of a ménage a trios with the God Eros’ son or as the submissive of a sexy inn proprietor. Nikita Black’s Binding Her Heart details the freeing of Tessa Kittredge’s heart as she places her body into thrall to sexy Treves Duchesne, owner of the former bordello that houses the mysterious fountain. Allyson James’ Mortal Sensations explores the ramifications of Eros’ son Alexi interfering once more in mortal affairs by enhancing the relationship between Madison Rainey and the hot star of her secret fantasies, Thomas Dupree. Sheri Whitefeather describes a bondage dungeon located in the attic of a bed and breakfast inn that features in the Dungeon Dreams of one of the inn’s guests, particularly after she makes a pilgrimage to the infamous fountain.

Wedding Favors is a sizzling collection of erotic stories that combine the steamy ambience of New Orleans with mystical intervention that allows three women to experience their wildest sexual fantasies. Each author expertly depicts a masterful man who is able to satisfy the woman who is there to support her friend the bride and in turn reaps a satisfying and sensual partner brought into her life by the fountain known as the “Jaillissement de Plaisir”which fulfills its promise so delightfully.