Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Simply Sexy Stories Welcomes Tory Michaels!

NG: I’m welcoming Tory Micheals on Simply Sexy Stories! Hi, Tory!

TM: Yo, what up? Er, sorry, been spending a lot of time in my characters’ heads, and Chris has a tendency to respond in a certain way.

NG: LOL...What are you reading right now?

TM: Several different books: Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare; Master of Mine an anthology from Evernight; Brazen Temptress by Elizabeth Boyle; and Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue by Stephanie Laurens. There may be some others, but those are the ones that come immediately to mind.

NG: Do you have an e-reader? If so, tell me whether it was easy or difficult to adjust to reading digital books. Do you prefer paperbacks?

TM: My Nook (and the Nook app on my phone) are my best friends (well, not really, but you get the idea). How else can I be hauling around 4-5 books at once without needing a book bag? Though, I will admit Clockwork Angel’s a paperback. It was a snap to make the adjustment to Nook. Just getting frustrated with mainstream publishers who are trying to make us pay 10-15 for an electronic book ESPECIALLY if the physical book is only 1-2 dollars more. I understand writers have to be paid, and obviously I’m all for that, but…erm, sorry. That’s a sore point with me right now (there’s a full blown rant on my blog on the topic). I’ll read anything that crosses my path, be it physical or electronic, if it interests me.

NG: I agree, $10+ for an e-book is ridiculous! Okay, you’ve been captured and your captor tells you to choose one book to amuse yourself during your imprisonment...which book would you choose? :)

TM: Just kill me now? Only one book for who knows how long? Yeah, I’d be insane in days. If I had to pick, I’d probably go with something like Gone With the Wind, or something with some serious weight to it. If nothing else, maybe I could use it as a weapon!

NG: Ha ha! What do you think is the biggest misconception about females writing in this genre?

TM: That we’re all shameless hussies who, erm, do naughty things while we’re writing, or that we’re all writing about stuff we’ve personal done (esp. if you write the spicier things).

NG: Yes! I agree that assumption is tiresome. Do the people in your life know about your writing? Are they supportive?

TM: Yes, everyone pretty much knows. Supportive, it depends. I think they’re amused by the notion. Hubby’s definitely supportive, at least as much as he can be. My in-laws…let’s just say I don’t write things they’d read (they’re very religiousy and since I do vampire books…..yeah, not happening).

NG: What advice would you give to inspiring authors interested in penning successful erotic romances?

TM: Don’t forget the romance in the writing. The emotions, the heat, the impact making love has on the characters.

NG: Good advice, Tory. Okay, let's talk about your writing.

TM: Sounds good.

NG: Describe your writing process...are you a careful plotter or laid back pantster?

TM: Pantser, but I wouldn’t say I’m particularly laid back about it. My editor keeps nudging me toward outlining, but nothing makes me more nauseated (except pregnancy) than the notion of an outline. World Bible, that’s a whole different ball of wax. I need to create a world bible for my Dream-Walker War series, but haven’t gotten to it yet. I’m starting to forget little details.

NG: Has your writing process changed since your first book was published?

TM: Not yet, but I hope it will. My first book just came out this month. I’d like to do something so I can write faster (and since I’m now pretty much going the e-book route, figure out how to write shorter than 100k books – ebook audiences seem to prefer the shorter books).

NG: What are you working on for 2012?

TM: Frantically doing edits for book 2 in the Dream-Walker War, which is due out next month.

NG: Let's talk about your new release, Blood Rage (The Dream-Walker War: Book 1). What's this story all about?

TM: Rage is the story of two lovers who were torn apart by a terrible lie 200 years ago, who come back together as a crisis threatens to destroy the 80-year peace between humans and non-humans (vampires, shifters, dhampires and mage-born).

NG: What inspired you to pen this tale?

TM: Dara wouldn’t leave me alone. She and Anthony were role-playing characters of mine many years ago. Add in the fact that I was in the midst of a master’s degree program for public administration and you got the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs to help regulate life in the United States for those who are not human.

NG: Give me three reasons readers will love Blood Rage. 

TM: They have a chance to visit a unique, yet familiar, world with humans and non-humans living freely, there’s a fabulous love story between two strong individuals, and suspense that will keep them turning pages.  

NG: What's the one thing readers can always count on when picking up one of your books?

TM: A little bit of mystery, a little bit of suspense, and passion.

Thank you so much for coming on Simply Sexy Stories, Tory, best wishes for all your endeavors in 2012!
Blurb: For eighty years since the Great Awakening, humans and non-humans have lived in relative peace together. The peace is threatened when three bodies turn up less than a mile from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs in Tampa, all bearing the signature of vampires who once terrorized Europe. 

The Bureau’s chief liaison to the vampires, Dara MacKechnie, learns that the Tampa victims are not alone when her ex-lover, and head of the vampire’s Great Council, Anthony Caldwell comes calling. The pair discovers the lie that separated them two centuries ago only banked their passion, not extinguished it. 

Dara must decide whether she can trust Anthony with her heart a second time as they try to head off the war that threatens all they hold dear. 

Caution! Scorching Excerpt Below:
He towed her into the bathroom, planting her squarely in front of the mirror. “Look now.”

Her lips tightened, and she shook her head until her hair fell loosely over her chest. The silken tresses tickled her sensitive flesh.

She squeaked in surprise when his palm slapped against her bare backside. It didn’t hurt, but it startled her, coming with no warning as it did. Yet she felt no outrage, only the illicit excitement from the silent warning that she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. “Look in the mirror, and tell me what you see.”

Dara hadn’t spared herself more than the most cursory glance in the mirror since the night Xanthea had let her see exactly what the monsters had done to her, in all its vivid horror, and she didn’t want to look now. The sight of the scarlet stripes across her flesh still haunted her dreams, though she knew intellectually that the marks were long faded.

With reluctance, she lifted her eyes to the mirror and stared at herself. It wasn’t a particularly attractive sight, a chubby, short woman with a gorgeous, long and lanky man. What an obscene mix. He deserved someone like Chris or Verissa.

“I see a dumpy little redhead and a golden ass standing behind her.”

Anthony’s mouth twitched, but no chuckle escaped. “Do you want to know what I see?” One arm swept around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder, dark brown eyes meeting emerald in the surface. He didn’t wait for her response. “I see a woman forever caught in the prime of life, so perfect that none of those stick-figures that model for the lingerie companies can hope to compare to, no matter the implants and hair extensions they purchase.”

Warmth infused her blood as she found herself unable to look away from his face in the mirror while he spoke.

His eyes never left hers as he continued, deep voice caressing her ears as his long fingers circled the tips of her nipples, teasing them until they tightened into taut peaks. “I see breasts that were made for my hands. Not too big, not too little. Just right.”

Dara’s womb tightened, and moisture gathered between her thighs. “Anthony.”

“Shhhh, pet. You said your piece; now I will say mine. We will never mince words, you and I.”

Still his eyes held hers in the glass. She watched, enthralled by the low tones and soothing touch as he traced along the ridge of one of the delicate lines left by one of the monsters from the underside of her right breast until it ended, just below her collarbone.

“Your hair reminds me of the sun as it rises just before a storm at sea, promises of the fire that you make me burn with. An emperor would give his kingdom for emeralds the color of your eyes. And yet those eyes look at me when we are in bed together, and I thank whatever gods you may believe in that it’s me with you, and not some other man.”

A desperate need to touch him rose in her even as her knees weakened from his quiet words. When she would have turned, teeth nipped at her shoulder in warning. “Please?”

“Soon, very soon.”

Dara moaned, hungering for more as his exploring hands made their way down to rest just above the red curls between her legs.

Blood Rage is available now with Evernight Publishing!

Curious about Tory Michaels?
Check out her website/blog:

Monday, February 27, 2012

Simply Sexy Stories Welcomes Brindle Chase!

NG: I’m welcoming Brindle Chase on Simply Sexy Stories! Hi, Brindle!

BC: Hey, beautiful. Thanks for having me here today!

NG: My pleasure! Let's jump right in. Do you have an e-reader? If so, tell me whether it was easy or difficult to adjust to reading digital books. Do you prefer paperbacks?

BC: I have a Nook and I love it. It wasn’t hard to adjust to reading it, but I do still prefer a paperback. There is nothing like having your purchase in your hand. If the price difference is close, I get the paperback.

NG: You’ve been captured and your captor tells you to choose one book to amuse yourself during your imprisonment...which book would you choose? J

BC: My favorite book, which I have read several dozen times, is Yendi by Steven Brust. But, it’s a quick read, so I think I would choose something longer like Return of the King from the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

NG: What do you think is the biggest misconception about males writing in this genre?

BC: Where do I start? *lol*. I think the best compliment I get, that seems to surprise readers is that I portray the female POV really well. But I think that’s a misconception. I don’t pretend to understand women, but really try. It’s the area in every book I write, that I concentrate the most on. I also think there remains a stigma that male authors can’t write romance well. I hope I have change some peoples opinion on the matter. I do find it interesting, that many of my peers think they write the male POV authentically and that its very easy. I don’t have the heart to tell them their male leads are stereotypical from a woman’s POV. At least most of the ones I have read. Hehehe.

NG: Interesting! Do the people in your life know about your writing? Are they supportive?

BC: My family and friends are very supportive. Everyone knows, except my parents. I just don’t want to discuss erotica or romance books with them. =oP

NG: LOL...What advice would you give to other men interested in penning successful erotic romances?

BC: Read the genre! The first thing as a male you have to accept in the genre, is that it is written for women, not men. Men get the erotic part, but generally not the romance part. Not that men are not romantic, but the genre is heavily geared to appeal to women. It takes research to get a grasp of it. Most of the male authors I see in or near the genre, I would call erotica, with romantic elements. Maybe that’s where I fall, but I do strive to understand the genre and deliver what the audience expects and appreciates.

NG: I think all men should read at least one romance book. I guarantee it would help them in the romance department! Okay, let's talk about your writing.

BC: Excellent. I love talking about my writing. =oP

NG: Describe your writing process...are you a careful plotter or laid back pantster?

BC: I keep my pants on when I write. 99% of my writing is on my lunch break on a public sky bridge, so that wouldn’t go over well. =o) … honestly, I don’t prescribe to or understand either approach, the terms mean nothing to me. My muse gives me some images in my head and away I go. Not sure which of those that makes me.

NG: :-) Has your writing process changed since your first book was published?

BC: No, but I would like it too. Like I mentioned, I write on my lunch break. That small window every day is set in stone. It doesn’t allow any flex. I have to write then, so that process I started with has me locked into it until I’m successful enough to quit my day job and elaborate my process.

NG: What are you working on for 2012?

BC: My goal was to release 2 novels and 2 novellas. I released one novel in January and just signed a contract for a novella, so I’m already half way to my goal. I’m working on Book two of my Dark Justice series, book two in my Depth Charge series, and book one in a new series for Ellora’s Cave’s new line, EC for men. Plus some projects for Red Lipstick Journals, and a couple of other books.

NG: You're a busy man! Let's talk your latest release Helena: Gothic City Lights II.  What's this story all about?

BC: Helena is book two in the Gothic City Lights saga, which is about a Night Club set in Portland, OR that is sort of a haven for the underworld. Unknown to us mortals, a war for souls is raging between Angels and Demons. Helena’s story is her struggle as an Angel of Charity against the deadly sin of pride. It’s a spin on the Beauty and the Beast as she finds herself posing as a stripper to lure a nasty Demonlord into the open, so her Angel hit team can take him out. Her mission collides with Antonio, a human demon-hunter, and though hideously scarred from his battles (he can’t heal like Angels can), his warrior spirit ignites a flame in her she’s never known. Their pride becomes a near fatal obstacle to their missions and their mutual and magnetic attraction.

NG: Love the premise! What inspired you to pen this story?

BC: My muse handed it to me, as she always does, in bits and pieces. I wanted to do another story as a follow up to Lilith’s story, and my muse came through.

NG: What's the one thing readers can always count on when picking up one of your books? 

BC: Lots of steam. My books, on the erotica scale, tend to be on the vanilla side, but they are hot! I also inject a lot of action. Fighting, scuba diving, martial arts, etc… that sort of thing.  

NG: Give me three reasons readers will love Helena: Gothic City Lights II. 

BC: 1. It’s a very romantic and sexy tale of two unlikely lovers finding each other.

2. In the world of Gothic City Lights, Angels aren’t always pure and Demons aren’t always evil.

3. My kids need to go to college, so buy the book. =oP.
NG: Brindle, thank you so much for coming on Simply Sexy Stories, best wishes for all your endeavors in 2012!
Blurb: Helena must have fallen into disfavor with Mother Superior. Her latest assignment to pose as a stripper and infiltrate the notorious underworld lair Gothic City Lights was outrageous! She -- an angel of charity -- was required to display her pure, perfect flesh to bait and eliminate a demon lord.

Demon-hunter Antonio Bendicini was bred for war. Sent to Portland to reduce the rampant population of demons there, he is quickly mired in an ancient war between angel and demon.

Both after the same mark, their paths collide. Helena could never have prepared herself for Antonio. Huge, hideously scarred from years of battle, and ugly, he was a true warrior, just like she, and he ignited something she’d never felt before: lust.

In "Beauty and the Beast" fashion, their desires entwine with molten ferocity and she falls to her want. Helena realizes she cannot complete her mission, because her heart belongs to the human. Determined to devise a new plan where she need not display her naked flesh for any man save Antonio, Helena is captured by the demon lord. Antonio must swallow his pride, stay his wrath, and join forces with the angels to rescue her before she is killed -- or worse -- defiled.

Caution! Super Sexy Excerpt Below:
Antonio’s blood was on fire. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins like quicksilver. The fight hadn’t gone well, and he didn’t like admitting the topless dancer’s sudden arrival had proved lifesaving. The demon was not a fledgling. He was dealing with an elder. His first, and it had gotten away.

But it was her lips he couldn’t get out of his mind now. So soft, moist, and inviting. Plump and tasty. Where his hand had drifted across her perfect skin was equally soft. Smooth like porcelain, but warm and pliable. His fingers seemed almost singed. He had felt the tight muscles of her abdomen as he tucked the tip into her satin lacy panties.

God, how she tormented him. His erection wouldn’t go away, and all he could see were those beautiful, plump lips, those deep, intense blue eyes, and that smoking hot body.

Having made his way back to his hole-in-the-wall apartment, he settled on the first thing that came to mind. A cold shower.

The wounds, the bruises, all took a backseat until he could purge that damned kiss from his mind. Why had he kissed her? She hadn’t asked for it. She probably thought he was some kind of asshole. But he couldn’t resist. Women like her never gave him the time of day, and he’d seen an opportunity. So he seized it. And now it haunted him.

Stripping quickly, he unceremoniously dumped his leathers and equipment in the middle of his floor and went straight to the shower.

The water was icy, freezing knives of cold as the shower sprayed its vicious assault across his skin. It soothed the sore muscles of his body but did nothing to alleviate the throbbing need of his cock. A cold shower wasn’t going to cut it this time.

* * * * 

Tracking him had been surprisingly easy. He had a five-minute head start, but Helena caught the spicy scent of his aftershave almost immediately. It was engraved in her memory. He lived in a small, run-down apartment on the third floor of an ill-attended building in the old industrial area.

Climbing with an ease born to her immortal blood, she crouched outside his window and peered in carefully. And just in time to see him strip out of his armored clothes and strut into the bathroom and out of her sight, led by a huge erection.

She gasped, lifting a fist to her mouth. Just a glimpse of him, of his thick, hard cock, and suddenly the fire was back. And this time, it spared her nothing, searing her arms and body until it centered between her legs. He was beautiful.

Keep it together. Mission. Think only about the mission.

But the mission had taken off on a tangent. She had to find out who this guy was, who he worked for, and if he knew his quarry was a demon. With him in the shower, she’d have five minutes, maybe more, to search his things for any clues.

Silently she wiggled the window’s latch free and lifted it up. A second later she was padding like a ninja through his belongings. His wallet was stuffed in his jeans, his money in a wad, but nothing else. No driver’s license, no credit cards. Nothing but cash. The jeans were reinforced on the inside with metal sheets across the shins and thighs. Definitely built for combat. He was not your average guy.

The shower door snapped open, and she whirled in place. He was finished so soon. It had been barely a minute. Maybe two. There was no way she could make it back to the window. She had no choice but to hide.

Moving silent and quick, she ducked into his closet and prayed he wouldn’t need anything from it. There wasn’t much. Three more leather long coats, a few shirts, slacks, and five pairs of various combat boots. All of which had clearly seen a lot of action.

The doors of the closet had been open, but she had to dare he wouldn’t take notice. She closed them partially, not wanting to risk any noise by shutting them completely. She tucked herself as far back into the thick leather coats as she could, using them to camouflage her hiding spot.

Peeking through the slats in the closet doors, she watched him stride back into the room. His face was etched with grief. By all accounts, he was not a handsome man. His face was all hard angles, brutally scarred, and far too serious. A born killer. But the scowl he wore was intense, and he was frustrated by something. The temptation to intercept his emotions through her empathy became unbearable, but she had to resist. Somehow she knew he would sense the subtle mental invasion.

Her gaze drifted down against her will, and he was still hard as stone. Protruding straight out from his pelvic area, from a thick nest of black pubic hair, his erection was undeniable. Huge, thick, and straight.

She’d never seen a penis. Not like this. Not hard and ready. So beautifully straight, where the rest of his body was chunks of muscle stacked between scar tissue from untold battles.

It also seemed to be the source of his frustration as he sat naked on the edge of the bed and leaned back on a tough-fingered hand. His other became a fist and encircled his huge cock.

Helena bit her lip to stifle a gasp as she watched. His hand molded its grip tight around his thick shaft, and even in the grasp of his massive hand, it was still gigantic, bold, and the only smooth stretch of flesh on his entire body.

His hand slid down, pumping his hardness, and his marred face relaxed suddenly. The angles smoothed, twisting as his mouth unleashed soft, guttural moans. His hand came back up, stroking the length of his cock, and she watched in awe.

Up and down he moved his hand, and the fire spread deeper inside her. The moisture in her panties was new to her as well. The excitement, the eroticism, of watching him pound that beautiful cock filled her with desire.

The urge to break through the flimsy closet doors and make love to that cock was sudden, and she stirred. Barely she managed to resist the urge. It was powerful, but stupid and sinful. She understood that lust could be a formidable foe.

But the fire demanded release, and she could not wait. Her gaze was glued to his meaty fist as it pumped up and down his cock. The muscles of his stomach were taut, tensed against the pleasure he was sending through himself.

The same pleasure rushed through her. The fire abated a moment, twisting into sparks as she felt her nectar across her fingers. Looking down, she found she had her jeans open and a hand stuffed down into her panties. She hadn’t realized she’d done it.

The fire wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she plunged her fingers deep into her tight warmth as his fist slammed down the shaft of his cock. Biting her lip to check the hiss ready to unfurl, she shivered with the coursing erotic bliss shooting out from her core and searing the rest of her body.

She pulled them out as he lifted his hand back up and palmed the throbbing mushroom head. Following his movements, she fucked her pussy as he stroked his cock, her mind filled with images of him between her legs. Stroke for stroke, she matched him, jamming her fingers into her pussy fast and furiously.

A growl ripped from his chest, and his powerful body lurched forward, his hand closed tight about his cock, just under the head. His hips bucked, and then again, and a stream of pearly white cum flew up into the air.

She thrust her fingers in and out harder and faster as she watched, awed by the vision before her. His cum arced and then came back down, splashing across his chest and stomach. Biting her lip again, she fought off the urge to cry out. His hips bucked as his hand stroked down hard, then up fast, and another shot of thick white cum burst upward.

Her shivering body began to convulse. Alarmed, she pulled out her fingers, but it was too late. Her leg spasmed and kicked out straight, bumping the closet doors, and his eyes snapped up to see her as his cum splattered across his hand and thigh.

His fierce eyes opened wider as her body exploded in orgasm. She shuddered violently until she was flat on the ground with her jeans and panties tightly wrapped about her thighs.

She wanted to flee. She wanted to die as the fire raging in her body fled to her cheeks. But she couldn’t do anything while the orgasm reigned. She moved her hand back to her pussy, cupping it, feeling her wet warmth as her body contracted with waves of sinful pleasure, and she couldn’t tear her gaze from his cock.

He stared at her, throwing his hand away from his cock as if in shame. His powerful body shook with tremors, and he gasped in deep breaths as his awesome climax subsided. He was as paralyzed as she by intense eroticism.

And then he was on her. He moved lightning quick, snatched her by the arms, and lifted her off the floor. Half throwing her, he shoved her onto the bed and pinned her down. Unable to resist while the bursting pleasure of her waning orgasm left her legs and arms spent, she could only stare back at him.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” He growled, and all she could manage was to suck in a deep gulp of air. His fingers burned into her skin, and she knew the orgasm had only fed fuel to the fires ripping through her body. Her desire was not yet sated, and she was embarrassed. She looked away and felt a heat even greater in her cheeks.

Helena: Gothic City Lights II is available now with Loose Id!

Curious about Brindle Chase?
Check out his website:

and blog:

Leave a comment below with your email address for a chance to win a copy of Helena: Gothic City Lights II! A winner will be selected on Tueday, February 28th!

Friday, February 24, 2012

Incubus Chronicles: Flash Fiction Friday # 25 - X Marks the Spot

I'm honored fellow author Benjamin Russell chose Rena and Raiden, my characters from Doll, for his Friday Flash Fiction piece! 

Don't miss his deliciously erotic take on these two! Click the link to see his naughty offering: Incubus Chronicles: Flash Fiction Friday # 25 - X Marks the Spot!

Curious about Doll, my D/s erotic romance available with Total E-Bound?

Read a sneak peek here!

See the book trailer:

Have a great weekend!!!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Fast Five With Gracen Miller!

NG: Welcome to Fast Five with Gracen Miller! Hey, Gracen!

GM: Thank for having me, Nichelle!

NG: Tell me what Hell’s Phoenix is all about?

Hell’s Phoenix picks up immediately where Pandora’s Box left off. The hero, Nix, is in Hell thanks to a deal he made with the devil. The heroine, Madison, is determined to save him from that deal. Having ties with Hell, she’s certain she’ll succeed. Dodging the destiny fate has designed for her will be a whole lot trickier than getting into Hell.

NG: Why did you want to write this story?

GM: Ha! You make it sound like I had a choice. When my muse—Dom—gets an idea in his head, I will write or he will make me crazy-insane until I submit! It’ll be all I think about, I won’t be able to focus on anything but that story, I’ll lose sleep and think of the story at the most inappropriate times...all of this happens until I cooperate and start writing. But...I also love this series. It’s the first time characters have ever felt this “real”. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they crawled out of the book and came to life.

NG: LoL...Your Dom knows how to get you writing! What do you think readers will love about this tale?

GM: It’s not the same story line you’re going to see coming from publishers. It’s a mixture of horror and romance. It’s going to play with your emotions. You’ll hold your breath, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Just when you think you have something figured out, the story whammies you with the unpredictable.

NG: If you had to pick a favorite line from the book what would it be and why?

GM: One line? Wow, that’s tough! I have favorite scenes. Hm...I think I’d go with this line by the heroine: “Dance with me, Nix. So I can acclimate myself to the movement of your body before you make love to me.” I love this line because it’s sensual and it gives you a peek into how the heroine approaches lovemaking—at least to me anyway.

NG: Ooo...I love it! What can readers look forward to next from Gracen Miller?

GM: I’m working on Genesis Queen, book three in the Road to Hell Series. I also have another paranormal series started—the Kiss series. It’s less horror, but still paranormal romance. Book one is completed in the Kiss series and I’m halfway through the second book.

NG: You are one busy (crazy-talented) lady! Thank you so much for stopping by, Gracen! I wish you all the best with this release!

GM: Thanks for having me, Nichelle. I always love joining you!

Hell’s become more than just a playground for the wicked… 

Going to Hell was supposed to save Madison, but knowing she’s dead because of his failure leaves Nix with only one thing to live for. Revenge. With Micah’s help he learns to use his Messianic power. Anything for Mads has become his mantra, even if it means killing innocents to gather the power he needs to succeed. A tsunami he unleashes on a Gulf Coast city is stopped with magical interference, and Nix is more than surprised to feel Madison in the opposing magic. Can he and Micah set a trap to lure her out?

Pandora’s Box…once you open it, there’s no turning back! 

Madison has done the unthinkable, opened Pandora’s Box to save Nix from Hell. And failed. She’s willing to risk her own life to rescue Nix, but she worries about the welfare of her accomplice in the mission and leaving her son behind. Following up on a lead, she’s ambushed by Nix and Micah. Shocked and hurt to discover Nix has become a willing participant of Hell, she’s more certain than ever she won’t escape the demonic fate her husband outlined for her. While in Hell, she discovers denying the emergence of her succubus is futile, which means getting Nix out of Hell after embracing her inner demon just became a very real dilemma… 

Caution! Tantalizing Excerpt Below:
She dropped her head to the side against his shoulder to peek at him. “If you prefer, we can dance naked after we make love.”

His chuckle was filled with irony. “You mistake me for a man who controls his libido.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me as we danced.”

His eyes dilated. That must have been what he needed to hear. The arm around her waist loosened and his hand pressed downward. He caressed her belly in circular motions, before moving lower, lower, until his hand plunged between her legs, and rocked back and forth in a languid caress of sweet, sexual torment.

Madison’s mouth parted as she sucked in a low, desperate breath to steady her carnal urges.

Nix dipped his head and skimmed his lips across hers to tease as his hand aroused her. “Your pulse is crazy against my hand.”

“Did you mention something about begging earlier? I could almost go there now.”

“Don’t be easy, Mads. Challenge me the way you always do.” He nibbled on her bottom lip. “Make me work for it and I’ll give you more pleasure than you can handle.”

“I have no idea what to do.”

“Just be you, baby.” Nix’s lips caught hers in a heated kiss, his tongue dipping inside to claim hers. The hand around her throat lowered and cupped a breast, flicking his thumb over the nipple.

Her hands still positioned on the back of his head, clenched and wrapped her fingers in his hair, as she swayed against the palm between her legs. Nix broke away from her lips and worshiped down her neck, nipped her nape. Her arms fell by her sides as he kissed downward along her spine, shifting his hands to her waist and inching his fingers beneath her shirt. He scraped his teeth across her butt hard enough she could feel it through her jeans.

“I want inside you so bad my teeth ache.” His words were muffled against her bottom.

“Why wait?” Swollen and throbbing between her legs, she wanted him there to eliminate the need.

His fingers splayed across her abdomen and he kissed the base of her spine. As he stood behind her, elevating her shirt as he rose, his tongue traveled the length of her backbone. The caress was so sensual she trembled and feared her knees would give out.

“Lift your arms,” he said with his lips against her ear.

She did as he requested, and he yanked the cotton over her head, tossing it aside. Her nipples puckered in the cool air, or maybe because Nix turned her in his embrace and gazed at them like they were the Holy Grail.

“I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” He dipped his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

 * * * *

Pandora's Box and Hell's Phoenix are available with Decadent Publishing!

Curious about Gracen Miller?
Check out her website: 

and blog:

Nichelle's February HOT Read Picks!!

Daughter of Lust (For the Love of Evil, #1)Daughter of Lust by Ann Mayburn
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I could not stop reading this book once I started! Ann's vision of heaven and hell blew me away! Natalia, the heroine in this story is loved by more than one man and the author manages to make each relationship stand out. The loves of her life are all unique and smokin' hot! I wanted her to be with them all- a surprise for me!

Daughter of Lust is one of the hottest books I've read in a long time and I will be seeking out each book in this new series!

Wildly imaginative world-building, scorching hot sex and a plot filled with unexpected turns- Daughter of Lust has it all!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

CorruptionCorruption by Amaya Radjani
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The title led me to expect something different from this layered love story. The premise is not new: older woman...younger man, but 'Corruption' is not your typical May/December story line. Mahogany and Jordan's mutual attraction is explosive and hot, but Jordan demands to be more than a boy toy. He gets his wish, breaking down Mahogany's walls to win her love. Neither of them expect their love to be tested by cancer. Unexpectedly, 'Corruption' becomes a loving, in-depth exploration of a human emotions and a relationship put to the test when dealing with a life-threatening illness.

This story will make your pulse race and dampen your eyes!

View all my reviews

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Simply Sexy Stories Welcomes Ranae Rose!

NG: I’m welcoming Ranae Rose on Simply Sexy Stories! Hi, Ranae!

RR: Hi Nichelle! Thanks so much for having me. :) I’m happy to be a part of Simply Sexy Stories for the day.

NG: What are you reading?

RR: I’m currently reading A Breath of Snow and Ashes by Diana Gabaldon. I’m a huge fan of the Outlander series!

NG: Nice! Care to share some of your favorite authors?

RR: Well, Diana Gabaldon (see above, LOL) is my favorite. I devour books and have diverse reading taste, so it would take way too long to list every author who’s ever written a book that I really enjoyed, but here are a few other writers whose work I love: C.S. Lewis, Gem Sivad, Talli Roland, J.K. Rowling, and Sondra Allen Carr.

NG: You definitely can't go wrong picking up a book from one of these authors! 

We’re well into winter! What's your favorite part of this season?

RR: Overall, I’m not very fond of winter (hate dealing with slush/ice, bad roads and extreme cold), but I love when a thick, powdery snow falls and covers everything. Everything looks, feels and even sounds more peaceful. And I love to see my horses get excited and run in the snow.

NG: Which would you rather do? Tumble in the leaves with your sweetie or snuggle by the fire as the snow falls?

RR: I don’t like to tumble in the leaves because I’m paranoid that a bug will be lurking in them and jump into my hair. LOL However, I’m all for tumbling in the snow – just did that today, in fact. Froze my butt off, took embarrassing photos and everything. It was the first real snow we’ve had this winter!

NG: Sounds fun! Let's talk about your writing. What genre(s) do you write and why?

RR: I write erotic romance because those are the stories I enjoy reading and writing the most. Whenever I’m reading a book – any book – the romantic elements are my favorite parts. I’m interested in the relationships between characters, especially romantic relationships, because those are usually the most passionate, intense and emotionally satisfying. So romance novels are perfect for me, and I prefer for authors to unleash the heat rather than obscure intimate scenes with purple prose, or worse, skip them altogether.

NG: What draws you to erotic romantic novels?

RR: Like I said above, I enjoy reading about passionate relationships more than anything else – it’s just what naturally captures my interest. As for why I like my romances erotic, well, when I become heavily invested in the characters’ relationship, I want to know everything that happens, especially when it comes to sex, because that’s an important and super-intimate part of a romantic relationship. I don’t want to skip what may possibly be the most revealing and romantic parts of the story. And it’s hot!

NG: Is there any particular word or thing in erotic romance novels that you dislike as a reader?

RR: I’m not too picky about words, although occasionally I’ll run across a term that makes me giggle or roll my eyes. But there is one thing I majorly hate, and that’s a heroine who rebels for the simple sake of rebellion and treats the hero like crap. Ugh. Hate stories like that. There are a couple of other heroine types that drive me crazy too, like women who are supposedly highly educated but behave like teen girls – why are there so many of those (in books)? LOL

NG: *SMH* I know the heroine type, Ranae. Describe your writing process...are you a careful plotter or laid back pantster?

RR: A bit of both, I think. I typically start a story with one scene that’s really strong in my mind, and expand the story from there. When I begin writing, I know the basic story, but I flesh out many of the details along the way.

NG: Has your writing process changed since your first book was published?

RR: No, not much, anyway. I do things in the same basic way, although I like to think that as I go along, I get better at doing them.

NG: What are you working on now?

RR: Something really naughty. ;) This is actually the first time I’ve talked about it, but this is a good opportunity to mention it (I have a habit of keeping news about my upcoming stuff to myself, perhaps for too long). Up until now, all of my published work has been m/f. My current project is not only a ménage, but a m/m/f ménage. Taking the plunge right into the taboo, and loving every page of it.

NG: Sounds very hot, Ranae! Let's talk about your latest release, Lonely Alpha.

RR: Yes, Lonely Alpha debuted last month, and is one of my most recent releases.

NG: In five sentences or less, share what Lonely Alpha is about.

RR: Silver bullets and sparks fly when Mandy is trapped on a remote mountain with alpha werewolf Jack. As they work to defeat a big game hunter hell-bent on bagging a werewolf, being around Jack brings out a wild side Mandy never knew she had. If they survive, she'll still have one problem to contend with: Jack is convinced that she’s his mate.

NG: What inspired you to pen this sexy tale?

RR: The same thing that inspires all of my books – a single scene that unfolded very strongly into my mind, demanding to have the rest of its story figured out and told. In this case, I could see Jack standing in the woods, and knew that he was a werewolf, and he was just meeting a woman, who’d come there on vacation – and was destined to be his mate. Where these ideas come from…honestly, I have no idea. It’s quite the (welcome) burden, having these people and their sexy dilemmas pop into my head at random times. LOL 

NG: Give me three reasons readers will love Lonely Alpha. 

RR: 1) An alpha who’s ready to mate…for life. Werewolves make the ultimate loyal heroes, and Jack is no exception!

2) A fast-paced plot. On any given page in this book, you’ll find that either sparks or silver bullets (or both!) are flying.

3) Sexy werewolves who often find themselves naked by necessity (not much choice when shifting destroys clothing, LOL).

NG: What's the one thing readers can always count on when picking up one of your books?

RR: Hot, hot sex that’s not just erotic, but romantic too!

NG: Ranae, thank you so much for coming on Simply Sexy Stories!

RR: Thank you for having me, Nichelle. :)
Blurb: When Mandy leaves the city behind and embarks on a retreat to the Great Smoky Mountains, she expects to spend the week alone with nature and a stack of novels. Instead, she ends up trapped on a remote mountain by a big game hunter who’s hell-bent on bagging a werewolf. Lonely alpha wolf-shifter Jack, the last of the once-strong Half Moon Pack, is his target. Jack is determined to keep Mandy safe while hunting his hunter, but being around Jack brings out a wild side Mandy never knew she had. As silver bullets fly, so do sparks. If they can manage to defeat their attacker, Mandy will still have one problem to contend with: Jack is convinced that she’s his mate.

Caution! Sexy Excerpt Below:
“Your mate is the one you spend the rest of your life with,” he said, drawing her even closer, so that she straddled him. He brushed her lips with his before continuing. “You know – your other half. The bond between mates is the strongest bond on earth.”

She trembled as he kissed her, long and hard, slipping his tongue past her teeth and deep into her mouth, as if he were claiming her. She despaired, even as she enjoyed it. What had she gotten herself into? She had to go back to Nashville when this was all over. Of course she did. What would Jack say? Hating herself for it, she broke the seal of their kiss, leaning back and trying not to notice how hard he’d grown. “I’m not so sure we’re officially mates, Jack.”

His lips tickled the hollow of her throat, tempting her to tilt her head back and let him kiss a trail all the way down to her chest. “There’s no ‘official’ about it, really. It’s not like getting married. You just know, and then…that’s it.”

Just ‘knowing’ didn’t seem quite concrete enough to base a promise of lifelong togetherness on. Was she missing something – was she just not wolfy enough to understand, or was what Jack was saying a little crazy? “What I mean is that I have a life four hours away in Nashville.” She tried to gentle her tone, but was afraid that it still came out sounding harsh. “You don’t really expect me to abandon it to stay here in the mountains as your mate, do you?”

He stiffened against her, his embrace becoming rigid. His lips still touched her neck, though he’d stopped kissing her. Several moments passed before he spoke. “Yes.” There was a stubborn note in his voice that reminded her of when she’d first met him, on his cabin’s front porch.

She sighed. “I can’t do that. Surely you can understand.”

He leaned back, meeting her eyes. “I understand that you’re my other half.”

She squirmed uncomfortably in his lap, attempting to ignore the hardness of his erection. Even as she tried to make him understand that she couldn’t be his mate, it was far too easy to remember riding him, and the temptation to sink down onto his cock and do it again was as real as the hold he had on her. “Jack, I really like you. To be honest, I’ve never felt half this crazy about anyone else, but—”

“When you came to my cabin, I figured you were just another ditzy tourist from the city,” he interrupted. “But I was wrong. You’re my mate, and I’m yours – how can you think that I could ever let you go?”

This was all escalating way too fast. Jack was digging his heels into the ground like a stubborn mule, and she worried she’d give in, slump against his chest and tell him she was his forever. It sounded crazy, even to her, but the temptation was there, beneath the reasons why she couldn’t do so. When she thought of saying goodbye to the Smoky Mountains and Jack, her heart nearly wrenched in half. She had to keep those thoughts in the back of her mind in order to keep arguing. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“Being mates is like being an alpha – either you are, or you’re not and you’re alone. There is no in between.”


He clapped a hand over her mouth and she stiffened, indignant anger beginning to replace her frustration.

“Shhh,” he said softly, his lips brushing her ear. “I heard somethin’.”

She held as still as a statue, ears straining for some hint of a sound. Then it came – the subtle snap of a twig beneath someone’s foot. Underbrush crunched, causing her heart rate to spike. They’d been found.

Jack held her tight as the sound of hushed, careful footsteps grew louder and then faded as their hiding place was passed by. When she finally couldn’t hear them anymore, she breathed a sigh of relief. 
Jack removed his hand from her mouth, smoothing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “We’ll track him,” he said. “But we’ve gotta wait a little while – let him get a head start. I can’t risk anyone like him discovering this place. We should be able to follow his scent trail easily.”

Mandy nodded, her emotions numb as she tried to wrap her mind 
around the concept of a hunt and an eventual killing. “What if he’s laid traps in the forest?” A phantom pain swept through her hand at the memory of the steel trap, gone as soon as she’d felt it. “There could be – I don’t know – explosives or something.” The guy was clearly a maniac and had used teargas – would it be farfetched to believe he’d planted other nefarious weapons amongst the pines and poplars?

“You don’t have to worry about that. If he blew us up, he wouldn’t have his trophies. No, he’ll want to shoot us, nice and clean. When a shifter dies, his corpse is human, unless he’s killed one very specific way.”


“Shot with a silver bullet. If a hunter can manage that, he’ll have a wolf carcass to mount. If he doesn’t, he’ll have a human body to either hide or explain to the police.”

Mandy shuddered at the thought of being killed and preserved like a trophy animal. “That’s barbaric. What kind of sick freak—”

“Trust me, shifter hunters are more animal than their prey.” He tapped the side of his head with a finger. “Crazy with hate, if you ask me.”

Mandy sighed, her breath streaming over Jack’s chest. “All of this is crazy, you know.”

“I reckon it is.” He pressed his lips against hers, hot and soft. 
She leaned into the kiss, aware again of the renewed hardness in Jack’s lap. He rocked his hips beneath her, causing the tip of his cock to grind against the seam of her sex. She gasped, her nails biting into his shoulders as she clung to him. They were already pressed as tightly together as two people could be, but she tried to get closer anyway. If they were going to risk their lives hunting down a psychotic killer, she wasn’t going to deny Jack or herself this. Slowly, she reached below with her newly healed hand, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. 

“No,” he said, stopping his rocking. “Not this time.”

“What?” She was still clutching his cock when he lifted her out of his lap, setting her aside on the floor of packed earth.

“You got your way last time,” he said, “but I’m not hurt anymore.” His wicked grin was illuminated by the moonlight that spilled through the den’s entrance.

Her hand slipped from his groin and before she could respond, he lowered his head into her lap. When he’d lifted her off of him she’d landed halfway sprawled in surprise. He pressed his mouth between her thighs as he gripped her hips, raising them.


Buy Lonely Alpha here!! 
***BOOK GIVEAWAY--Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Lonely Alpha! 
A winner will be selected tomorrow, Feb. 21st!

Curious about Ranae Rose?
Check out her website:

Friday, February 17, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday - Angel by Nichelle Gregory


Light envelops her. Shame fades to relief. She hadn’t known if he’d come this time. Shuddering against his chest, she is comforted by the sound of his heart beating strong and steady against her cheek. The cold creeping over her body is held at bay, forced to recede as his incredible warmth forges yet a new destiny for her.


His deep voice holds no judgment, only love and it makes her cry.
She weeps, unaware of the tears falling from his own eyes.

“Why?” He asks again lifting her up from the ground.

“To see you again.”

Angel © Nichelle Gregory 2012

I always enjoy the challenge of creating a story with only 100 words! I hope you enjoyed Angel.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

And The Winners Are...

First, let me say thank you, to all my blog hopper participants!

Here are my Grand Prize Winners:

The Red Hot Blog Hop- Gena!
With Love Valentine's Hop-Kaylyn!
Blisse Kiss-Tamsyn!

Congratulations, ladies!

Coming Up on Simply Sexy Stories...
Flash Fiction Friday!!

Have a great Thursday!!


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Simply Sexy Stories Welcomes Jé Maverick!

NG: I’m so excited to have uber-talented writer and poet, Jé Maverick here today on Simply Sexy Stories! Welcome, Jé and Happy Valentine’s Day!

JM: Happy Valentine's Day, and thank you for asking me along. I'm thrilled to join you.

NG: My pleasure! Tell me, what would make this day special for you?

JM: A long back massage! I really don't differentiate between this day and any other when it comes to romance. Romance is ubiquitous in my life. Every day is a ripe day to profess and declare your love for your special someone. Every day must be a day for this. Not necessarily with flowers, or chocolate, or jewellery - but with intimacy, attention, and appreciation. As the great sufi poet Rumi says: there are a thousand ways of kneeling to kiss the earth. I say seize every opportunity to steal a kiss or make your beloved laugh or cause their heart to throb - serve them in as many ways and aspects that you can. Life is a composite of passions if you wish it to be.

NG: I think that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard, Jé. 
What’s your worst Valentine’s Day memory?

JM: A few from the awkward teenage years. Once, seeing a girl that I absolutely adored give a card to a guy that I wasn't too fond of. I'm glad those phases are far behind me. How easily shattered we are in the formative urgently we love.

NG: So true. What’s your favorite kind of chocolate candy?

JM: Junior Mints. I love them, they're like little parcels of gratuituous delight. I became addicted to them on my one and only trip to the United States. I was staying in Windsor, California, where every Tuesday night in summer was movie night on the town green. This meant plenty of home made popcorn in greasy, brown paper bags, along with a trip to Powell's to grab a box or ten of Junior Mints. My mouth is watering just reminiscing about it.

NG: Junior Mints are delish! Do you have any last minute suggestion(s) for all those guys still scrambling to come up with something romantic for their sweethearts today?

JM: Write your girls a poem, lads. It doesn't have to be a sonnet or a staggering piece of craftsmanship. Put your feelings down on paper. If it's sincere, if it's heartfelt, you'll cause her to swoon like a schoolgirl. She'll fold up the paper that you've poured your heart onto and keep it forever. And if you're feeling extra courageous (and this is the cherry on top as far as this advice is concerned), get down on your knees and recite it to her. Home run, right there.

NG: He's right, fellas! We'd keep that note forever...and if you got down on your knees to recite? OMG! 

Okay, let’s talk about your work. How long have you been writing?

JM: I was always making up stories as a young child. I lied notoriously in show-and-tell at school, telling stories about bears that I saw on the weekend, and cowboys and indians that were wrestling on the roof at home, and all manner of hijinks that just weren't true. I used to make little books at home and illustrate them myself, filling them with crazy monsters and strange artefacts and amazing adventures.

NG: When did you know writing was your gift?

JM: I was supported by my teachers in primary school. In the third grade I had two stories published in the local newspaper, under the title "Christmas For A Little Boy". One story about Santa, and one about the birth of Christ. The grownups seemed to love it, and they were quite pleased with me, and so I became quite pleased with myself. I imagine I was impossible for my siblings to live with for a while. I remember that, when asked, I never wanted to be a writer, I wanted to be an author. That was a clear distinction, even for an eight year old.

NG: Did someone help you realize your talent?

JM: I can remember various moments through my schooling years where my writing was praised. I ran into my 4th grade teacher a few years ago and he said that he still had some of my stories. Others praised my essays, and I even had one teacher submit one of my pieces to a Penguin anthology along with his own (mine was accepted, his wasn't!). No-one stands out, but I was fortunate enough to have many who believed in me.

NG: How long has it taken to build the following you have for your work?

JM: I must confess, I pay very little attention to my following these days. I don't toot my own horn too much at all, or actively pursue an audience for my work. I just throw it out there quite haphazardly. I'm relying on the belief that the work is all that matters - the quality of the work is what brings the readers, not the other way around. This is the age of Twitter and tags and status updates and book trailers and blog posts and the weaponisation and commodification of everything, even hobbies. I'm not in that race. I don't want to be. I am a writer. And though I'm not writing a lot right now, I'm thinking about it, about what that means. I don't think it has much to do with networking at all. It is only about the work. Don't let them fool you with tales that surround the alleged importance of branding and social proof. It's an illusion. Make your work as good as it can be.

NG: Brilliant advice! Describe your writing process.

JM: It really isn't that photogenic. Or inspiring to hear. It involves a lot of rubbing out and doodling, a lot of sighing and farting around, and generally looks like I'm wasting a whole lot of time. I'm a huge procrastinator. I'll start work five minutes before deadline. All of the bad disciplines are strings in my bow. Yet, every now and again I seem to produce a piece that works, that I'm reasonably happy with. I'm not very prolific at this point in my life, due to external pressures, but aside from all of that, I do have my own ideas on process.

It cannot be done without more heart than mind. Creative writing is a tool of empathy.

I think it's how we engage with it. How we enter into it. It's got nothing to do with how much you do it, or how much of a genius one is (forget what others think about you - that's the ego), but in how easily we connect with the creative flow. Flow is not work, as it is not about control. How can you control flow? You can't. What are the rules of art? There aren't any - make sure you're not sold any.

Editing is where most of the craft takes place, but the writing itself, well, that's not so pure. I think the two get confused to no end and because they are two different parts of the same process, they call for different states of mind and presence. Writing is more childlike - especially regarding fiction. If you don't explore and play around, you lose. It cannot be done without more heart than mind. It is a tool of empathy before anything else.

Editing is where the administrator comes out and starts correction and cutting. It is where the mind and theory of story are engaged with sculpting something like Michelango's David out of a mud pie. It is a strange symbiosis, but one that articulates my experience more vivdly than simply work.

In a state of flow, writing becomes the closest thing I know to spiritual practice. It's a form of meditation. It's a path to enlightenment. Which is far less serious than all that work business.

NG: You've rendered me momentarily speechless. There are so many nuggets of wisdom in what you just said. I agree that 'creative writing is a tool of empathy.' Do you ever suffer from self-doubt once you’ve finished a piece. If so, how do you deal with it?

JM: There is always some doubt. The good thing about that is that it can be directed to the next piece, towards trying to make that better. There are many chances for the writer to get it right. It's a process, a practice. We are graced with many do-overs.

NG: What inspires you to write?

JM: There are many things that can cause a piece of writing to come into being, but I'm moved by what it is I anticipate a poem or piece of writing can do for others. There are many myths built up around poetry and its ability to change the world. I don't really want to change the world. I want to change the way that people feel about themselves and each other - to offer hope, compassion, love, and empathy. If I can live out my live in the service of that aim, then I'm going to feel as though I have lived a life of extraordinary purpose and privilege.

NG: What poets do you enjoy reading?

JM: First and foremost, there is the great Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda. No-one comes close to him for sheer energy and palpable romance. I am breathtaken by the works of Galway Kinnell and Eamon Grennan. I couldn't leave Mary Oliver out. Her poetry has a mystic quality. And, speaking of mysticism, the poetry of the sufi poets Rumi and Hafiz never fail to reveal some hidden aspect of ecstasy. And Rilke...he was a master of ecstatic verse...there's not enough time in the day to list them all.

NG: What advice would you share with aspiring poets?

JM: Go out into the world and experience as much as you can, and do this while attempting to cultivate an attitude of profound curiosity. Have adventures, in the physical, emotional, and spiritual realms. Enjoy life. Get disappointed by it. Laugh. Sing. Love passionately. Drink some. Dress sharp. Walk tall. Fight hard. Learn about what it is to fully inhabit your humanity. Break bread and hold communion with your life.

Also, you don't have to write every day. You need to live every day. Cultivating good writing habits is essential, but live first. If you are called to write, you will. And what that means is that it is a calling of the spirit. It will present itself to you as an unshakeable and genuine need, not as a job opportunity or a random desire.

Out of all the poems that you’ve written, which one is your favorite and why? 

JM: Well, You Who Turn From Love is probably my favorite, because it calls to us to partcipate in the world, to love despite the threat of vulnerability or the raw memory of previous disappointment. There are many in the world today who are numb to love, or who have resigned from love, and every single one of those individuals is, in a profound way, lost to the rest of us. It's a true tragedy. One cannot realise their own humanity without love. The poem is my humble attempt to say, look, please don't turn your back. The value lies in loving, in being a part of this world. If you must turn away, turn gently. Turn kindly. Turn slowly. We need you to return someday.

You Who Turn From Love

You who turn from love in pain,
turn gently: heed the softer counsels of the world.
As a slender branch whips back
from the weight of so many ravens;
as the tulip wilts for moisture in the heat
to stand once more within the glistening dew,
rejuvenation whispers,
as subtle as the snowflakes meagre shadow.

You who turn from love in pain,
turn kindly: seek the tender cycles of the world.
The winter greets with joy flung arms
the first fog's slow return, and so the moon
shall know its lover's face, the sun sinks
without quarrel. Spring dances without clothes
as Autumn looks on, waiting, and neither
will depart the grand design.

You who turn from love in pain,
turn slowly: nothing exists but purpose,
and the born to love must love
although the season's on the wane,
just as the quiet swan floats upon the lake
and the heron wades the shallows,
though the fickle water's edge subsides, and rises
and recedes.

NG: That was beautiful, Jé! Thank you for sharing it! Do you do commissioned poetry?

JM: Only for young, good-looking, extraordinarily wealthy widows. If you know of any, please send them my way.

NG: LOL...Where can readers find out more about you and your work?

JM: I have a website: I welcome everybody to come along and visit. Everything about my work that you need to know is there.

NG: Jé, I'm so glad I snagged you for an interview! I look forward to reading more of your work!

JM: It's been a pleasure. Thank you so much for having me, Nichelle.

NG: Jé, the pleasure was all mine. Thanks for the inspiring, wise words and heartfelt poetry. You have a beautiful soul that shines through in everything you say. It truly was a gift to me as a writer and romantic at heart!


Sunday, February 12, 2012

BLISSEKISS with Nichelle Gregory

Did you come for a kiss? 

Let me plant one on ya!  

Zori shivered, even though she wasn’t really cold. She surveyed the partially darkened alleyway, aware of Greyson’s gaze on her.

Thank goodness, we’re practically alone.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She looked up at him as he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders.


He leaned against the cement building as she pulled his suit jacket tighter around her neck.

“Yes, thank you.”

His scent seemed to envelop her, setting ablaze the spark she’d felt the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

Now or never, Zori.



His attention was also on the alley, as if he was keeping watch too.

“Would you like to come home with me?”

Greyson slowly turned to stare at her and Zori shivered again, this time from desire. Most guys started talking a mile a minute, shocked by her boldness, yet completely game. She particularly hated the ones who immediately started pawing and trying to kiss her while promising how good they’d make her feel.

Greyson simply held her gaze, his eyes never leaving her face even though she felt like his hands were already on her body.

“My car’s not far from here.”


He’d agreed to go. Now she just had to get him there.

“One kiss before we go?”

Greyson grabbed her and yanked her hard against his body. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Are you asking me if I’m sure about kissing you? If so, the answer is yes.”

She pressed her hands against his chest, taking a step back from him as his eyes raked over her entire body.

“Not just the kiss, Zori.”

Heat bloomed deep within her. His gaze was magnetic. He had the most unusual brown eyes she’d ever seen. She’d almost swear his irises had flecks of gold that reflected the street lamp overhead.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Her answer seemed to drive him forward. His lips crushed hers in a hard kiss that melted into a sensual caress. She opened her mouth for him, loving the taste of his tongue as it caressed hers. He kissed as well as he danced.


She almost gave into the moment, to his artful lip lock before remembering what had to be done. With a Herculean effort she pulled away from him, breathing hard as he stared down at her.

“I’m sorry.”

Greyson frowned. “For wh—”

Zori cold–cocked him on the jaw as hard as she could and stepped back as he stumbled.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His gruff voice raised tiny hairs on her arms.

She gasped as he reached for her, shoving her against the cold concrete wall. “Excuse me?” Zori stared into his eyes, struck again by how attractive he was…even with the furious gleam visible in the fierce gaze fixed on her. His hand shot up to encircle her throat and she blinked in surprise. She would’ve been amused if his vice-like grip wasn’t causing her to see bright spots.

How in the hell could he move that fast…especially after the blow I’d just dealt him?

There was no time to ponder the question as his fingers tightened painfully around her oesophagus. Self-preservation always came first and Zori didn’t think twice about ramming her knee into his crotch.
Copyright © 2012 Nichelle Gregory

 * * * *
Zori revels in the control she exerts over the opposite sex; no man has ever challenged her in the bedroom or out...until she meets Greyson.

She's beautiful, intelligent and sometimes deadly to the men who enter her bedroom. For Zori, voracious appetites for sex and food reign supreme. She's never known rejection, romance or love...her life and heart has always been her own. The moment she sets eyes on Greyson, Zori makes it her quest to have him in her bed, but she's finally met her match. Can two lovers with secrets face the truth and trust their hearts? ~

Taken By Surprise is available with Total E-Bound, Amazon and other e-retailers!

What did you think of Zori and Greyson's kiss? Leave a comment with your email address below for a chance to win a copy of Taken By Surprise! 

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