Welcome Tara Lain and her Wolf in Gucci Loafers

I'm very happy to have my friend Tara Lain come and visit. I've been trying to think when I first met her, and yoga comes to mind. I found out that she practices this ancient and grounding art and it explained a lot of her confidence and sense of self. I've found that people who make yoga a regular part of their life walk their talk. Not to mention I enjoy her books immensely. So here she is with her latest yummy paranormal m/m romance--my favorite genre with a fresh, sexy twist--Jan.

Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here for two celebrations. Today, we’re celebrating Jan’s birthday!! And the release of my new paranormal romance, Wolf in Gucci Loafers. So I wanted to find something that commemorated both. So I went to Google and put in “wolves and birthdays”. Guess what I got? This great picture mostly from wolfpark.org of a wolf celebrating his birthday! So HAPPPPPPY Birthday Jan from me and my Wolf in Gucci Loafers, Lindsey Vanessen!

Below, as a prezzie for those who stop by, you’ll find a nibble from the book and a Rafflecopter where you can enter to win some fun prizes! Please be sure to give Jan a virtual hug!

Tour Stops

April 16, 2014

Butorfleoge 

Cherry Mischievous 

Jan Irving's Ephemeral Writings 

April 17, 2014

(un)Conventional Bookviews 

Night Owl Reviews

April 18, 2014

For the Love of Bookends 

Friskbiskit

April 19, 2014

Binding Addiction

April 20, 2014

My Fiction Nook 

April 21, 2014

Scrollin' Them Papers 

Buffy's Ramblings 

April 22, 2014

Sofia loves books 

April 23, 2014

Just Jeannie's Books & Bling 

BookwormBridgette's World 

April 24, 2014

Coffee and Porn in the Morning 

April 25, 2014

In The Pages of a Good Book 

Kay Berrisford - m/m romance 

April 26, 2014

Share My Destiny

April 27, 2014

Books Are Love

April 28, 2014

The Morning After Romance

The Consummate Reader

April 29, 2014

Deal Sharing Aunt

April 30, 2014

Trulee V's Spot 

Elisa - My reviews and Ramblings

Wolf in Gucci Loafers 
(Tales of the Harker Pack #2)
by Tara Lain

Blurb:
Socialite Lindsey Vanessen wants someone to love who will love him back — an impossibility for a gay, half-human, half-werewolf. Too aggressive for humans, too gay for wolves, and needing to protect the pack from human discovery, Lindsey tries to content himself with life as a successful businessman. But when someone starts kidnapping members of wealthy families, Lindsey meets tough cop Seth Zakowsy—the hunky embodiment of everything Lindsey wants but can't have.

Seth has never been attracted to flamboyant men. What would the guys in the department think of Lindsey? But intrigue turns to lust when he discovers Lindsey’s biting, snarling passion more than matches his dominant side. It might mean a chance at love for a cop in black leather and a wolf in Gucci loafers.

Available for purchase at 

Excerpt:

Lindsey came up beside him. “So, let me look at you.” The guy stood back and regarded Seth up and down like a piece of prime beef. “Yes, well, lovely, but maybe a little casual for the occasion. I know it sounds like an athletic event, but really it’s more”—he waved a hand gracefully—“shall we say, social?” He walked around Seth, making a “hmmm” sound.

“Look, I don’t care about the social niceties. I just want to catch a fucking kidnapper.”

“Ah yes, yes, but we catch more flies with—Armani.” He laughed. “Come with me.”

It wasn’t a trial to follow that butt.

Lindsey threw open a door, and Seth walked in behind him. “Holy shit.”

Lindsey turned and placed a hand on his chest. “Yes, dear, I know. Decadent. It may be the sign of a devolving civilization, but this is my closet.”

This was a room his family home could fit in twice. “Department stores don’t have this many clothes.”

“Dear, dear. We never shop at department stores.” He waved a hand down his body. “Obviously, nothing that fits me is going to fit you.” He touched the epaulet on the leather jacket. “Those shoulders. Oh my.” He sighed. “Anyway, I happen to have a blazer that was delivered to me in the wrong size. My guess is that it’s divine plan, because I think it will fit you perfectly.” He walked to the racks of clothing and pulled out a deep-green blazer.

Seth touched the material. Butter. Shit, not his style. He shook his head. “I don’t need this. Thanks, though.”

Lindsey hooked the jacket on a display hanger and crossed his arms. “Listen, dear. You asked me to take you to this event. I’m also very interested in you capturing these horrible people. After all, their victims are my friends. So do this my way.” He pointed at the coat. “That jacket cost half your annual salary. No one is going to smell cop when I get through with you. They’ll talk to you because you’re a friend of mine and that’s all they need to know. Understand?”

Seth frowned. “What do I say when they ask what I do?”

“You work for the government in a classified capacity. End of story. You could tell them, but—”

“I’d have to kill them.” He cracked half a grin. “That’s pretty ingenious.”

“But of course.”

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And on Dreamspinner

About the Author

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best­selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul­mate husband and her soul­mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

You can find Tara at

               

Giveaway

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Presented By

Heal Your Woundedness--a blog about the role of healing in my books

I'm over at Tara Lain's blog today where I talked about the role of healing in my books, especially showcased in two new releases, Lonely Cowboy and The Protective Dominant. Check it out HERE.

A snippet from The Shy Dominant, a sexy older man/younger woman romance from Jan Irving

Sometimes when you write something you don't fully understand why you are writing it. The Men of Station 57 series is that way for me. For one thing, the first book, Forbidden Fire was a really nifty romance. I really liked the story and I thought it had grip. My editor of the time loved it. And then I saw the cover for it and it hit me. It looked like the Harlequin series I'd grown up reading. And the light bulb went off, and I realized that was my reason. I wanted to try to write a story like that--albeit a lot sexier and edgier.

The Shy Dominant was about half written when I ran out of gas writing for a while. I'd go and look at it and think "that's a really appealing story, and I hate leaving it in the dust. It deserves better." But I was taking a time out so nothing happened until I began reading The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron and finished a crap load of stories and began new ones. Shy is a very sexy story, even more edgy than the first book. This time I wrote it for me. And I'm grateful to myself for finishing it.

To be honest, who knows if this series will take off...now. I have written a lot of stories and they've all taught me different lessons. My second book didn't do well initially but went on to be very popular over time. (That's Mask, if you are curious.)

I have the strongest feeling with this series that writing it is good for me. In the now, because it's what I want to do. In the future because...always good to have some stories you like all finished and ready to be discovered, hmmm?

Here's the opener from The Shy Dominant:

Dharma Munroe bent close to Fred James, smiling the same smile she greeted him with every morning at Coffee Dreams, the San Diego coffee shop where she worked for her best friend Sian as a barista. But this wasn’t the coffee house and she sure as hell wasn’t wearing the green T-shirt with the shop logo she sported there.

Instead she was dressed in a hot pink thong.

And nothing else.

Fred couldn’t keep from staring at Dharma’s bare breasts. They were generous and lush, the nipples large and dark coloured. Not the nipples of a twiggy little girl but an earth mother.

He swallowed and then jerked his gaze up to meet her slanted brown eyes, colour heating his cheeks. He shoved a hand through his hair, the mirror opposite at the bar catching the silver streaks in the dark blond.

As if he needed a reminder that he was in his mid-forties and this girl—and he could use the word very deliberately since Dharma was in her early twenties—was half his age.

And he lusted for her.

“What can I get you, Fred?” she asked in her usual chipper tone.

“Jesus, Dharma,” he growled.

“Sorry?” She blinked, as if she couldn’t figure out what his problem was.

Just then Fred caught a man at the bar eyeing Dharma’s shapely body, the olive toned skin she’d inherited from her Italian mother and the long, long killer legs. Rage burned through him like brush fire.

He got up from his chair and took Dharma’s arm firmly but with his usual gentle care with women.

“Fred!” She dragged her feet in her high scarlet heels, but he led her inexorably to the exit at the back. He hit the door and they were suddenly facing a red sun sinking like an island beyond the deserted beach.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Fred demanded as soon as the door slammed shut behind them.

Dharma blinked and then pushed some of her long brown hair out of her eyes. “Working.”

“Working,” Fred repeated flatly. “Is that what you call it, walking around in your underwear?”

Dharma looked down at her body and shrugged. “Well, one piece anyway.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Her eyes heated. “Yeah, I saw that.”

He blushed again, hoping she hadn’t guessed his first reaction at seeing her beautiful naked breasts. He’d wanted to reach out and cup them, since she seemed to be offering them to any man who sat down in the seedy bar.

“Fred, will you relax?” she said, punching his shoulder in a friendly manner. He couldn’t help but notice how the movement made her breasts jiggle. It was going to be interesting to see just how far his control would hold while he talked to the woman who’d intrigued him for months while she stood there half naked.

“Does Sian know you work here?” he demanded. He wanted to take off his T-shirt and cover her up. She looked so untouched and lovely, like a long- legged Venus.

“What?” She laughed. “Why would she care?”

His jaw tightened on the words he wanted to shout at Dharma. But he wasn’t as reckless as he’d once been, chasing fire. He’d been leading his people for a long time as a battalion chief. He’d learned to control his temper. “She would care because she’s your friend,” he said. “Surely she wouldn’t approve of you working in this place?”

Now her brown eyes snapped at him. “It’s not her business to ‘approve’ of what I do. Or yours.”

“Of course it’s not.”

She looked surprised at his easily capitulation.

“But that doesn’t mean anyone who cares about you and respects you, wouldn’t worry about you displaying yourself for men.”

“I serve drinks, same as I do at the coffee shop,” she said flatly. “But the tips here go a long way on my student loan. If men—or women—want to look at what the goddess gave me then let them look. It’s. No. Big. Deal.”

He looked away, studying some gulls hovering over the water. “It’s a big deal to me.”

Find The Shy Dominant for sale HERE.

New Excerpt for bestseller Lonely Cowboy

New excerpt from Lonely Cowboy.

Simon Morrison watched Tate.

He was close enough to touch him but of course, with his training, Tate couldn’t see him, but sometimes Simon thought he might sense him.

His nostrils flared as he analyzed Tate’s scent. Peanut butter for lunch again. And ink. And some kind of chalk, the stuff he used to draw over his quilts. And cotton, fresh, unwashed. And Tate hadn’t showered yet but that didn’t matter. Simon liked his musky natural scent.

Gradually, painfully, Simon’d been getting better. His head didn’t hurt as much. He had more long stretches of clarity and he couldn’t remember his last black out.

Simon rubbed the jagged scar on his temple, left over from a sniper in Afghanistan. He remembered he’d been there. He’d been a warrior.

Mostly though when he tried to remember, he got a handful of faces, flashbacks, and a head pounder of a head ache.

It was easier to live as the wolf though even as the wolf he didn’t function normally anymore.

The wolf didn’t feed itself. It didn’t hunt.

Instead, lately, Simon had found himself lurking around Tate’s cabin, watching him. Sometimes Tate came out onto the porch and rocked on one dilapidated rocking chair while he hand sewed quilts.

Simon was fascinated. The colors, the swirl of patterns... one quilt was the shades of sand under a desert sunset, vivid peaches and oranges and browns and another reminded him of the misty Pacific Northwest, all weeping greys and sad blues. It was like Tate was a magician, pulling out toy after toy, bright and shiny, distracting Simon from himself and the worries that he was half a man, half a wolf.

Tate frowned and looked directly at Simon. Simon closed his eyes. Prey could sense when you were looking at it. It was instinctual. And though Simon no longer had it in him to hunt, he was still a predator.

“Huh, too much time spent alone,” Tate said, shaking his head. He got to his feet and carefully crept across the debris of his front yard and back into his cabin. But Simon caught the click of the dead bolt. Tate had locked himself in.

Simon could have told him it wouldn’t help. When Simon got hungry, he helped himself to Tate’s food. And sometimes, even knowing it was creepy and he shouldn’t do it, he stood just outside Tate’s bedroom door, listening to the soft sounds Tate made as he slept. The creak of the mattress as he turned over, the pale arm or leg that flopped over the end of the bed. Simon wanted to go in and lick that skin.

He wanted to wrap himself all around Tate and have Tate wrap himself around Simon.

Blurb:

Tate... I fell in love with a man I didn't understand. You know how that is? Simon Morrison has long silver blond hair in a ragged pony tail, and blue eyes more alive than I've ever seen, like he's walked with death so everything else has burned away. He's a warrior who came back broken, who hides in the shadows. And there's something dangerous about him, but I didn't understand until the night I ran after him and they were waiting, the other wolves. They tore into me and I died. My name is Tate Stevens and I died but something kept me here. I couldn't leave my warrior behind no matter how much it hurt, how confused I am to be whatever it is I am Becoming.

Simon... I came back from Afghanistan with one goal, to find a place to die. But slowly, watching Tate working on his art quilts, it didn't hurt so much. I felt the colors coming back. He is my light. He is my heart. They tried to take him away from me while I screamed his name. And now he thinks he's a monster. I have to find a way to bring him back to his light.

Lonely Cowboy available HERE.

Celebrate Valentine's Day with a Lonely Cowboy

Happy V Day! I think love has to start with loving yourself. It's not always an easy thing to do, but it's so important because it is the touchstone relationship in your life.

I have a new release out today that is all about a big change in someone's life and how love helps him find the way back to himself--Lonely Cowboy.

Navy SEAL Simon Morrison came home broken. But quilter Tate Stevens is slowly healing him. If only Simon’s secret didn’t endanger them both.

Tate… I fell in love with a man I didn't understand. You know how that is? Simon Morrison has long silver blond hair in a ragged ponytail and blue eyes more alive than I've ever seen, like he's walked with death so everything else has burned away. He's a warrior who came back broken, who hides in the shadows. And there's something dangerous about him, but I didn't understand until the night I ran after him and they were waiting—the other wolves. They tore into me and I died. My name is Tate Stevens and I died but something keeps me here. I can't leave my warrior behind, no matter how much it hurts or how whatever it is I am becoming confuses me.

Simon… I came back from Afghanistan with one goal, to find a place to die. But slowly, watching Tate working on his art quilts, it got so it didn't hurt so much. I felt the colours coming back. He is my light. He is my heart. They tried to take him away from me while I screamed his name. And now he thinks he's a monster. He is so alone. I have to find a way to bring him back to his light…

*Book seven in the Uncommon Cowboys series but it can be read (as they all are) as a standalone. Find it here or on Amazon, ARe and other booksellers. It's also available in print.

Also, I'm so grateful to readers for making my first book out in a while, "Shady," a best seller!

Find it here.