Halloween Blog Hop!

Hello blog-hoppers. Happy Halloween! You know the drill. Follow the tour all the way to the end and you'll be entered to win a slew of great books and other prizes. If you stumbled upon this by accident, go to  http://booknibbles.com/bloghop/ to start at the beginning. And don't forget to join us for one of our fun chats (details can be found HERE).

Now, on to the eye candy...

I have a bit of a confession to make. I couldn't find any Halloween-themed pictures of men to inspire me this year.  The women were okay. There were any number of attractive devils...


...and bats.

But the men were a problem,  you know? However, it all worked out in the end because that's what led me to think about some of the men that had inspired me this year.

So what did I come up with? Rugby.

Yes, rugby. Surprised me, too, because I am generally sooo not Sports Girl. And, to be perfectly honest, I still don't understand the first thing about the rules of the game...but it sure is fun to watch and the men are simply gorgeous.

By the way, those last three photos are from a sports drink ad campaign. You can read more about that HERE.

And, now, because no blog-hop post would be complete without a video...

Well, that's it. I hoped you enjoyed this stop on your tour. Now, it's time to head to the showers.

I'm also running a contest until the end of this month in conjunction with the print release of my vampire story, In the Dark. Click here for details: http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-dark-print-release.html


IRON is an EPIC Finalist!

Well, I'm in shock. I just got word last night that Iron is a finalist for the EPIC 2011 Award for Paranormal Erotic Romance. Must be the luck of the Irish or something, because I've never been a finalist for anything before!

A blacksmith with a tragic past, a faery princess with an uncertain future and a love that burns like iron.

When an immortal, shape-shifting fae arrives on his doorstep seeking shelter, Gavin O’Malley knows he’s in luck. For Aislinn can give him everything his life’s been missing. Now, all he has to do is find a way to keep her—without losing his soul in the process.


Something was different.
As the soft, gray light of a winter’s morning crept through his bedroom window Gavin stirred; but even before he’d come completely awake, he felt it. He could not tell whether the ‘it’ in question was something within the room itself, in the wide world outside it, or even an indefinable change that had occurred only within the recesses of his own heart and mind, but something, this morning, was definitely different.
But, whatever the cause, the result was a lightening in his mood such as he’d not felt in many a year and, remembering that today was Christmas Eve, why, it was almost enough to make him believe, once again, in the magic of the season. Perhaps it was an aftereffect of the strange dreams he’d had? Though they’d already begun to fade away, as dreams will do, enough stray wisps still clung to his mind to bring a smile to his face. Such sweet, sweet dreams. He stretched, and felt the pleasant ache of muscles that had no earthly reason for being sore. Odd, that. Then something shifted beside him in the bed. And he knew.
No, surely such things are not possible? His heart pounded fiercely as the thought that he’d not been dreaming, that his wife might actually have returned to him—in the flesh, so to speak—took hold. It was...well, he didn’t quite know what it was. Disturbing, he supposed, to say the very least.
Not knowing what to expect, how he should feel, nor even what he might say to her, he steeled himself, sent up a silent prayer for guidance, then turned round to face her. The reality was far worse than anything he’d imagined.
“Oh, bloody hell.” Bolting upright, Gavin stared in horror at the woman lying asleep in his bed, at riotous gold curls fanned out across his pillow and a sweet flower-like face that was not his wife’s. “What’s this now?”
Gold-tipped lashes fluttered and slumberous gray eyes opened. “And a very pleasant good morning to ye as well,” the fae replied, lips curling up in a sensuous smile as she reached a hand toward his face. “But, tell me, must ye always scowl so?” Cool fingers stroked his cheek. “Methinks ye’d be much more attractive an ye smiled.”
“Explain yourself, Fae,” Gavin snarled, jerking his head back, away from her touch. “What is it you think you’re doing here?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Well, I thought I was sleeping...’til some fool woke me with his blathering. What is it that ails ye this time?”
“You’re what ails me!” Gavin fisted his hands in his hair to keep them from her throat. “You’re a bloody, fekkin’ pox upon my life.”
“Nonsense. From what I’ve seen of your life so far, I’m sure I could only bring improvement to it.” Yawning, she sat up in bed, and pouted at him. “Can ye really not think of anything nicer to say to me than that of a morning?” But Gavin barely heard her for as she came erect the bedcovers slipped to her waist and his mouth went dry at the sight of all that lush, naked, female flesh so close at hand.
He scrambled off the bed, hoping to put some distance between them before the temptation to touch her became too much to deny. “For the love of God, woman, clothe yourself.”
That brought a lazy smile back to her lips. “Well, and I would, to be sure, had my gown not met with such a tragic mishap last night. But ’twas quite torn from my trembling flesh, as I recall it, and so roughly, too. And, even if I knew, now, where the remnants of it had been flung, I’m sure ’tis un-wearable and altogether beyond repair.”
Gavin groaned, remembering all too vividly the event to which she referred. “I’d thought ’twas but a dream.”
She shook her head. “Nay. Though I’ll warrant it was as pleasant for you as any dream might be, ‘twas all quite real. But, speaking of such, will you not come back to bed? For, as I look upon you standing there it occurs to me that we might yet have some business we could attend to, you and I.”
“I will not,” he replied scowling at her. “And there is no business we have with one another. I want nothing whatsoever to do with ye.”
“A lovely speech, but I think there be some parts of you as would disagree.” Her eyes grew dark as her gaze traveled the length of him. “One part, for a certainty. And a very substantial part it is, too, I must say.”
Looking down at himself, Gavin was appalled to discover that all his buttons were undone and his cock, hard as a post, was jutting outward; head bobbing as it strained toward her, as eager as a dog for a stroke. “’Tis of no matter what some parts of me may appear to want,” he replied stiffly. “For ‘tis not those parts as rules my actions.” And, so saying, he stuffed his turgid flesh back where it belonged and buttoned his underclothes back up. “And I’ll thank ye to be putting your eyes back in your head now,” he told her, blushing as her sigh of regret caused his cock to give another eager leap; a movement she could not miss seeing with her eyes still fastened on his bulging member. “And leave off looking at me as though I’m a Christmas goose and you’re behind for dinner. Have ye no shame at all?”
“Shame?” She repeated the word doubtfully, glancing up at him with thoughtful eyes. “Oh, a very little I’m sure, from time to time, an the situation warrants it. But none that pertains to matters of the flesh. And...” she purred, smiling again as she tossed off the covers and stood, pirouetting before him in all her naked glory, “As pertains to my own flesh, certainly not. For I canna see anything there for to give me shame. Can you?”
“Nay, that I cannot,” he admitted grudgingly, quite unable to tear his eyes away from her, and quite unable to move as she advanced upon him.
She slid her arms around his neck. “Very well then. But, if you truly will not be persuaded to come back to bed and fuck me once again, would you not at least satisfy another of my hungers? Will ye not make breakfast for me? For I find that I’m feeling quite famished this morning, having eaten only a very light supper, and all this talk of geese and dinner is not helping matters at all.”
Gavin closed his eyes but, even so, he had to swallow hard before he could speak. “Why are you here? You were supposed to be gone ere daybreak. We had a bargain.”
“Aye,” she whispered softly. “That we did. And are ye sure ye will not let me show you how very grateful I am to you for your kind reprieve?”
Gavin caught his breath in a ragged sigh when she ran her tongue along the rim of his ear. “Stop your teasing, woman. To what reprieve would you be referring? I never did any such thing.”
“Sure and you did. For did ye not give me your promise, last night, that I might stay the winter? And right glad am I that you did for, otherwise, I’d have been forced to leave your pleasant company and make my own way in the cold, cruel world.”
“’Twas not to you that promise was given,” he growled. “And well you know it.”
“Not to me?” Aislinn leaned in closer, chuckling softly as she trailed kisses all along his jaw. “Oh, aye, mo chroĆ­, it was indeed.”
Mo chroĆ­. My heart. He ground his teeth, seething at her use of any such endearment for him. Taking her by the shoulders, he held her away from him. “You tricked me with your foul, faery magic. I thought you were my wife.”
Aislinn nodded. “I may have used a wee bit of glamour to alter your perception and my own appearance, but I only did what was necessary and I’d hardly call it foul. Certainly you didn’t seem to find it so last night?”
“I care not for what you think about it, witch. You should not have done it. And you cannot hold me to promises I did not intend to make.”
“Oh, but indeed, I can.” She gazed at him with deadly calm. “And indeed I will.”

Read another excerpt or buy book HERE.


Six Sentence Sunday for October 24

This week's snippet comes from Visions Before Midnight (Oberon: book 7). This is actually the book's opening (although, yeah, I messed around w/ the punctuation a little to make it closer to six sentences). But it's a moody little piece just right for this time of year...

For most people, night spreads a cloak of silence and mystery upon the natural world.  If we dare to venture outside after dusk, we hear little and see less.  At night, this world we think we own does not feel quite so much like home.  We may sense that there is an abundance of life here, we may even feel ourselves drawn to it at times, but it is a life that is always slightly beyond our ken; we are alien to it. 
With every minute we stay within the shadowed borders of the land of night, the uneasy conviction grows stronger: we are not alone; we are being watched; we are being...hunted.

To buy this book go HERE

To read more about the series go HERE

  There's still time to enter the contest I'm running in conjunction with the print release of my vampire story, In the Dark. Click here for details: http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-dark-print-release.html

You can find more great Six Sentence Sunday posts at the official site: http://sixsunday.blogspot.com


Six Sentence Sunday for October 17

This past week has been surprisingly warm but according to all the forecasts, we're due for some more seasonable weather. Of course, what's seasonal here along the California coast is not exactly typical of most places--all part of the charm, if you ask me. *g*  This week's six sentences come from A Sight to Dream Of, the second book in my Oberon series; a book I've been thinking about a lot in the last few weeks as life once again imitates art in some very unexpected ways.

As Sam steered his bike over the endlessly twisting road that followed the coast, he marveled at the changes he saw in everything around him. It was definitely autumn now. The air was drier than he’d remembered it; warm and faintly spicy. And the sky was a different shade of blue, like soft, faded denim with fuzzy, frayed patches of cloud. Leaves of yellow and gold and bright bursts of cherry red glowed on branches above his head and every tiny town he passed through now boasted a pumpkin patch or a costume store. It was hard to believe so much could have changed in only two weeks.
To buy this book go HERE

To read more about the series go HERE

I'm also running a contest this month in conjunction with the print release of my vampire story, In the Dark. Click here for details: http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-dark-print-release.html

You can find more great Six Sentence Sunday posts at the official site: http://sixsunday.blogspot.com


Six Sentence Sunday

Even though it's still early in October, my thoughts have already started turning toward Halloween. So this Six Sentence offering is from my first vampire story, In the Dark, which was just released in print this past week! 

The cool, moist air carried the scents of earth and moss and stone and…something more. Something warm and delicious that flared her nostrils and teased her senses, tempting her to track it down, daring her to track it...

It was a comforting, familiar fragrance, one that was always there, always the same, vivid and welcoming, crucial for her survival. It was the scent of life. The scent of prey. The scent of blood.

I'm running a small contest in conjunction with this release. Click here for details: http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-dark-print-release.html

You can find more great Six Sentence Sunday posts at the official site: http://sixsunday.blogspot.com


In the Dark ~ Print Release!

Yep, In the Dark, the first book in my Children of Night series, is now available in print as well as digital format. The book is so yummy looking with its chocolate brown cover, that it's inspiring me to run a little contest.

email me (pgforte@pgforte.com) and tell me the name of the iconic singer-songwriter whose music inspired Suzanne's move to San Francisco (hint: the answer can be found in the prologue) and I'll enter you to win some fabulous Vosges chocolate or a LUSH cosmetic bath bomb. Supply the specific song title (no, that's not spelled out in the prologue, but it's a real easy guess!) and you could also win one of these cool magnets:


I have enough for several winners and I'm running the contest between now and Halloween...hey, what can I say? I'm making this up as I go along!

Click HERE (or on the cover at the top of the page) for more information on this title and to read the prologue.

 And now, here's an extra excerpt...

“Isn’t this place fantastic?” Suzanne sighed as they strolled in the shadows of towering redwoods, breathing in all the cool, night scents. The fog was settling in, and between that and the trees, it should have been too dark to see. It wasn’t. Flickering torches, set along the winding paths that cut through the property took care of that. Given the costume she was wearing and the autumn breeze, she should have been shivering with cold. She wasn’t. The man walking beside her, with his electric voice and simmering smile, took care of that. “I don’t believe any of the rumors about it being haunted though, do you? I think it’s more like…well, like being in a fairy tale, or something.”

The sound of Conrad’s soft laughter made her cringe. He smiled indulgently. “A very dark fairy tale, perhaps, yes? Populated with monsters and demons and things too terrible to mention.”

Suzanne bit her lip. Fairy tales. What must he think of her, hearing her talk about such silly things? He was older—how much older, she couldn’t say, but definitely over thirty—and more worldly and cultured and altogether more fascinating than anyone she’d ever met before. And here she was, when she should be trying to act as sophisticated as possible, saying things only a baby would think to say. “I just meant…well, it’s just such a…such a gas to be here, don’t you think so too? I wonder who owns it.”
He slanted a curious look her way. “Don’t you know? Who brought you here, anyway?”
“No one, really. I was with some friends the other day and I guess they’d overheard some other people talking about it. They said they throw parties like this almost every weekend and that it was a real happening scene. So I thought I’d come and see for myself.”

“A happening scene. I see.” They walked a few more steps before Conrad asked, almost hesitantly, “So…is that…is that a good thing then?”
“Conrad! Of course it is!” Laughter bubbled up before she even considered that, perhaps, he was making fun of her, but the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t. “Look around you,” she said, slipping her arm free of his so she could twirl in place, her arms spread wide. “It’s all so…dreamy.” However older and worldly he might be, there were still things he didn’t know. She liked that. She liked the rush of power she got from the thought there were things she could teach him, things she could show him and tell him about—new things, things he might never even think of on his own. The realization left her so jubilant she didn’t even protest when he took hold of her hand and pulled her into his arms.
His kiss was nothing like she’d expected. It was earthy and dark, with just a hint of buried sweetness and a taste that was almost familiar. Tempting, yet somehow forbidden, just like the baker’s chocolate she’d once watched her foster mother use to make a cake.
The tantalizing scent as it melted in the top of the double boiler had made Suzanne salivate. No matter how much she’d begged for a piece, she wasn’t allowed so much as a crumb. So, that night, she’d crept down to the kitchen and stolen a square. It, too, was nothing like she’d expected. Bitter, intense, but exciting, all the same. Like her first sip of coffee. Or her first taste of love.
The press of Conrad’s mouth on hers was hypnotic. She couldn’t break the spell his kiss laid on her even if she’d wanted to. No more than she could keep from moaning in protest when he pulled away. His hand slid across her bare back, took hold of her hair and tugged. She let her head fall back as his open mouth ghosted, warm and wet, over her neck, as though he was searching for just the right spot. Her heart seemed to stop. The night grew still. Even the breeze seemed to settle as she waited, breathless for…something.
It never came.
Instead, Conrad’s mouth reversed course, traveling back up her neck to her ear where he whispered, “So much sweetness. It would be a shame to rush what should be savored. You’ll spend the night with me.”