The Cottage Next Door by Natasha Moore

It’s tough to grasp a second chance at love when you’re holding on to the past.

Thanks to Cassandra for inviting me as her guest today to tell you about my new release, The Cottage Next Door. It's a second-chance-at-love beach romance and this morning, with the temperature only 50 degrees outside, I could use a little beach!

Blurb:

After his wife died in a car accident, bestselling author Hunter McCaffrey stopped writing—and stopped living. He’s rented a beachfront cottage to try to get his head on straight, and start the long climb up from his pit of despair.

Instead of pounding out a first draft, though, he runs the beach, drinks away his pain, and tries to ignore the vibrant woman in the cottage tucked next to his.

Still floundering months after the loss of her adventure-junkie husband, Sylvie Chase hopes some beach relaxation will help her decide what to do with the rest of her life. Instead she’s wondering what to do about her unexpected attraction to Hunter, who makes her body long for the feel of his arms around her.

As Sylvie drags Hunter back to the land of the living, soon they’re agreeing to a short fling. Just to get past their sorrow, not because it means anything. But when emotions get in the way, it’s a struggle to leave the past behind and dare to love again.

Excerpt:

“Can’t sleep?”

Sylvie started. Hunter’s disembodied voice sounded loud in the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing on the deck next door, but had to assume he was sitting in his usual deck chair. Had he heard her moan?

Her heartbeat slowed back down to normal. “No.” She held her breath, waiting for him to swear and stomp into the cottage for intruding on his want-to-be-alone time. Or make a sarcastic comment about what she’d been doing when she thought no one was there.

“This is my favorite time at the beach,” he said, surprising her with his deep, pleasant tone.

“Because you can’t see the hundreds of people around you?”

His soft chuckle surprised her even more. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Partly. But there’s something about the ocean at night. Do you hear it? Right now, this isn’t the fun-loving shore where kids splash and make sandcastles. It’s more primitive.” He was silent for a moment, and Sylvie got caught up in the roar of the waves as they crashed onto the beach. The sound pulled at her, called to her.

“Think of the hundreds of thousands of years the ocean has been pounding the sand,” he went on. “Eating away at the land, reclaiming it. Taking it back into the bowels of the deep.”

Her body heated more, even with the cooling breeze. His voice rolled over her, as powerful as the tug of the waves. She’d known there had to be more to him than that angry, bitter man she’d seen so far.

“Ashes to ashes? Dust to dust? Ocean to ocean?” she asked softly.

The waves pummeled the shore for several long moments before he replied, “Something like that.”

The words she’d been thinking slipped out easier in the darkness. “I’m sure she would want you to be happy.”

“What do you know?” he snapped, but Sylvie thought his voice contained more hurt than anger.

“I know what it’s like to roll over in the middle of the night and still be surprised to find the other side of the bed empty.”

“It’s like a kick in the gut every time.”

“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I still save up things I want to tell him about my day…”

“And then remember she’s not there to share those things with anymore.”

“I have to look at pictures to remember what he looked like when he was healthy and fit and eager for the next adventure.”

“I can’t remember what she smelled like anymore.” Hunter’s voice cracked. “She had this soft scent like powder and flowers and I don’t know what, but I used to be able to smell it everywhere in our apartment. It’s gone now too.”

She nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I used to sleep with one of Matt’s shirts and I cried all day when I realized his scent was gone.” Sylvie was pleased she could say that without getting tears in her eyes. Maybe she’d finally reached acceptance.

The Cottage Next Door is available today!! I hope you enjoy Hunter and Sylvie's story!

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To celebrate the release of The Cottage Next Door, I'm giving away a $10 gift card to one commenter. Just tell me where you like to go on vacation? Would you pick the beach...or somewhere else?

Natasha

www.natashamoore.com

Wicked Wednesday Excerpt

**Sharing an excerpt from one of my erotic romances, so be warned this is not office or work safe, people. It is adult content and viewer discretion is advised. Rated M for mature.**

Compulsion
by Cassandra Curtis, ©2013

Compulsion | May 2013 | Genre: Erotic Contemporary | ISBN: 9781301335596

Only .99¢

Lindsay Dannon has a dirty little secret. While she hides behind her plain and proper image at work, a wanton woman with a rich fantasy life lurks beneath the surface. The thrill of sex in public places, and the risk of exposure, is a compulsive itch she knows only one man can scratch—her boss, Jack Randolph.
The company’s “no tolerance” policy on interoffice dating is the only thing stopping her. Good thing Jack created the rules, because he’s determined to make all of Lindsay’s sexual fantasies come true…

Excerpt from Compulsion by Cassandra Curtis, ©2013

     Her mind raced. Should she pretend she didn’t hear Jack, or just go for it? Her nipples pebbled underneath her cream silk blouse, still tingling from his accidental contact. Remember what happened the last time you decided to “go for it,” she reminded herself. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t picture the possibilities. She closed her eyes and imagined reaching out to press the red stop button on the panel. The elevator would shudder to a halt. She’d slip off his jacket, slide her hands down to the waistband of his slacks, pull out the shirttails, and slip her hands under the starched oxford cloth. His warm flesh would tremor under her touch. Then, she’d lean up on her toes to coax his lips open and take his mouth. A slight moan escaped before she could catch it. Had he heard?

     “Lindsay?”

     She’d have to explain. She could simply blurt out the entire sordid situation. Maybe he’d take pity on her. She didn’t ask for this, after all. Jack Randolph inspired her wicked side. He was so damn hot she couldn’t stop the kinky daydreams about him. Lindsay knew she wasn’t his type. He probably had no interest in her. If he had, surely he’d have acted on it before now, right? She recalled Tegan once saying that Jack’s ex-wife had been a former swimsuit model—her polar opposite. And there was the fact that he was her boss. She looked up into his dark, amber eyes.

     Why, of all the men in Colorado, did he have to be the one to ignite every sexual fantasy she had? It would have made her life easier if she’d had a sexual compulsion for some harmless pencil pusher. At least she hadn’t drawn a heart around their names on her desk blotter. Or written Mrs. Jack Randolph a thousand times on a piece of paper. She ignored the fact that she’d written ‘Mrs. Lindsay Dannon-Randolph’ on the notepad of her smart phone mere days ago.

     “Lindsay?”

     She’d like to rub her nipples across that five o’clock stubble on his cheek, tease his lips open, and feel the wet warmth of his mouth, as he sucked her tight—no! This was wrong, so wrong of her...she had to stop this madness… “Stop imagining him with his clothes off!”

     “Excuse me?”

     She visualized throwing him down on the conference table in front of everyone and the two of them boinking like crazed rabbits, while he muttered, Ms. Dannon, do you want to be home checking want ads? and the sexual fantasy fizzled. I must be insane to keep having these thoughts—you’re such an ass, Jack Randolph...

     “…Yet all I can think about is what it would feel like to have you push me against a wall and shove your cock deep inside me, tight...” Her words trailed off as she noticed the stunned look on his face.

     “Please tell me I didn’t say any of that out loud? Oh, hell. You’re going to fire me now, aren’t you?” Wonderful. Mortally embarrassed. No job, no money. And now her boss thought she was a deviant with a dirty mouth, a sexual addict with a fetish for him. She could kiss any letter of recommendation goodbye.

     “I’m not going to fire—”

     “You will. You have to. I’ve got high stalker potential. I even mapped out the route to your house from my apartment on an app,” she blurted out. Crap. Confession might be good for the soul, but she really wished she’d kept that tidbit of info to herself.

     He leaned in, trapping her neatly against the elevator wall. One hand reached out to press the red stop button. “Are you going to attack my body?”

     “N-no.” The elevator shuddered to a halt.

     “Pity.” He nudged her thighs open with his knee, his breath hot against the nape of her neck.

     “Someone might see!” She squirmed to move under his arm. The frosted glass might hide their identities, but certainly not their actions. A frisson of fear mixed with sheer excitement raced through her veins. Lindsay watched him throw his jacket over a tiny camera eye in the corner, effectively blocking security’s view. He pulled her into his arms, slid his hands over the curve of her hips, and sank his fingers into the cheeks of her rear end, cupping her through the navy fabric. His lips pressed against her throat.

     She wanted to pinch herself just to make sure she hadn’t slipped past reality and slammed full throttle into psychosis. At least her two halves weren’t conflicted about one thing. Both wanted Jack.

     “Stop me. Tell me no now and I’ll quit. Otherwise…”

     Lindsay’s knees were already weak, even before he found her erogenous zone and began lapping at the delicate spot with his tongue. She clutched at his tie in answer, unknotted it, and slid it from under his collar. Lindsay meant to discard it, but before she could throw it on the floor, he grabbed the tie and her wrists. Jack turned her around, binding her hands to the brass railing.

     “What are you doing?” This hadn’t been part of her daydreams!

     “Fulfilling a fantasy of mine. You know all about fantasies, don’t you Lindsay? You just told me one of yours.”

     “Oh My Gawd.” She ran the words into three indistinct syllables. Nothing in her tame past prepared her for the sensual onslaught of a Jack attack.

Read a different excerpt from this book at: http://cassandracurtis.com/erotic-romance/compulsion

Only .99¢ and available for the Kindle, Nook, and other ebook readers at:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Compulsion-ebook/dp/B00CTAQFJO

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/compulsion-cassandra-curtis/1017482159

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/316561

Love With A Dragon (excerpt and contest!)

Imagine a world with high deserts and cliffs, caverns and sagebrush. Now imagine in every cavern, every mountaintop are huge, spacious aeries; each having a stone railing wide enough so that an adult dragon could perch there and see panoramic vistas stretching as far as the city lights of the human populated Newtown, an urban area very reminiscent of late twentieth century Los Angeles.

Ever since the first colony ship landed on their planet over a hundred years ago, they sensed the newcomers would be a threat to their way of life. They hid their nature, shapeshifting and blending in with these strange invaders to their homeworld. Watching the humans, interacting with them so closely, confidant in their ability to fool them while they spied on them, the Dragonkind convinced themselves they could move through Newtown's populace without incidence and hide their own homesteads.

So it was inevitable that one of these humans would eventually stumble upon a frightening discovery, seeing a dragon from old Earth myth soar in flight. Thinking the creature some kind of flying alien lizard, potentially dangerous and possibly in greater numbers, the colony's militia was notified. The creature was shot down and human soldiers were sent out to hunt for more of these 'dragons' in the name of public safety, and thus starting a twenty-five year long war. Peace came hard fought, with no real winners.

Open Season takes place over twenty years after the treaty between humans and Dragonkind. Tentative friendships emerge and pacts are made between the dominant dragons and a few curious and brave human submissives (called fawns by the Dragons) in Newtown's club district. Tensions arise when the Dragon's ritual mating hunt is challenged and humans are allowed for the first time to watch and even participate.

I wanted to explore bdsm in a different light and what better way than in a futuristic and alien world where the real answer to the question of why is hidden beneath the lies we tell ourselves.

Blurb:

A submissive-in-training, Season knows the boundaries, but that doesn’t stop her from crossing them, or from falling in love with her master and wanting more. When the ban against life-mating between humans and Dragonkind is lifted, she jumps at the chance to enter the ritual hunt and claim her master as mate. Despite the dangers and risks, she knows their love is worth it, even if her masterful dragon doesn’t.

Quinn knew accepting the position as General of the Dragon Army came with risks and that his enemies would look for any weakness they could use against him. But he never realized how fast lust could turn to love, or desire to need.

When an old foe from the war notices Quinn’s growing attraction and deeper involvement with Season, Quinn is caught between two difficult choices—pretend indifference to the woman he’s grown to love, or enter the Solstice Hunt and risk everything to claim his human mate.

EXCERPT: Adult language and situations. Must be 18+ to read.

Open Season by Cassandra Curtis
©2012 Cassandra Curtis. All rights reserved.

The constant, overwhelming drive to claim and mark her as a mate had been the impetus causing him to withdraw, at least temporarily, from her company. Season's eagerness to please made her an excellent bottom, but she was human and he knew better than to take her fully in the ways of his kind. She wouldn't understand what claiming meant to him and what it would mean for her—not that the dragon council of elders would allow a human to enter the sacred mating hunt.

Besides, a solitary existence had served him well over the years. If, at odd times he ached for the closeness of a life mate, he hid it, scorning the emotion and the temptation. Seeking out submissive humans, playing D/s games, and telling himself he was satisfied had become routine.

He stood on the warehouse roof across the street and watched Season exit the building alone. Stupid girl! Why hadn't she waited for Nalita? Didn't she understand her very tempting and precarious situation? The warehouse district was a rough area, despite the cops who made the circuit, driving past in their police cruisers.

A woman needed protection, some deterrent for the thieves and thugs, prowling the streets at night. Season wore an impossibly short bronze miniskirt and chocolate leather ankle boots, her hips swaying the slightest bit as she made her way to her car, stepping over the slushy puddles left from a recent snowstorm. Her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail, her shimmery brown sweater dipped low, exposing the creamy curves of her breasts. She'd come to Nalita's ready to play—without him.

What did you expect? Season is a submissive-in-training. It wasn't her place to call and invite him. That wasn't how their arrangement worked. He was the one in control. If he'd wanted to go with her to Nalita's party, he should have called her and told her. That was the problem. She expected more from their relationship, and he'd become the nervous fawn. How could he call himself a Dom and yet be—? No, he wouldn't even say it. He wasn't…afraid.


“Master Dragonairre, a word with you, sir.”

Startled from his thoughts, Quinn turned to see his second, Jace, standing behind him. The roar of an engine divided his attention. Season drove away. “What?” He replied, his tone brusque.

“Sir, the guild asked to speak with you regarding the upcoming solstice festivities.” His second stood firm despite the withering glance Quinn cast his way.

“What do they want now?”

“I believe it has something to do with the official hunt, sir.”

“Very well. Perhaps they've come to their senses.”

“I hope so, sir. Our war with the humans is ancient history. The guild should allow them to enter the hunt.”

“Jace, for those of us who lived through that dark time, the bitterness still lingers in our memories. We have to move past it in order to secure our future, yes, but it'll take time for the clans who fought so hard and lost so much.” Damn, that sounded like part of a campaign speech, even though it was true. Bad enough his position granted him a vote.

He despised most of the supercilious bastards on the guild's council. The politicians chose to ignore him when it suited them, but all too often, it was his vote that was the deciding factor.

Whether the humans only acted as observers, or full participants in the hunt, he knew the decision would mean sweeping changes to his people's way of life…and his own. The opportunity to call Season his life mate should be worth any price—except her safety. He'd do anything, including push her away, to keep her safe from harm.

If he showed too much care for her welfare, or treated her any differently than other fawns he'd trained in the past, his enemies would know. The war had already placed a high a burden on him,
and cost him dearly. Ignoring Season pained him, but losing her through an act of revenge or retribution for something he'd done in the war, twisted his guts in knots.

Quinn stretched, back arched, his shoulders pulled forward in preparation for the change. Dense connective tissue twined together, forming elongated fingers on the underside of his arms.
Leathery crimson membrane grew between the new cartilage and bone. Stretched from wing tip to tip, the span neared twenty feet long.

He lowered onto his haunches and gazed one last time at the building across the street. Smoke unfurled from his flared nostrils as he saw Nalita lock the heavy double doors and chain them tight. She turned, a stun-stick in her hand. Good girl. The weapon was a nasty piece of work, hard to obtain unless you had connections inside the police force or within the upper echelon of black marketers—both of which Nalita had.

“I take it we're not driving?” Jace dropped to his knees, as similar bat-like wings sprouted from his back. His clothes dissolved beneath shiny blue and gold scales, absorbed into his very DNA matrix.

“Not this time. We fly!” Quinn stepped off the roof and soared into the emerging dawn of an amethyst streaked sky.

Contest time!

One lucky reader will win a goodie swag bag along with a very special prize pictured below. To enter, leave a comment and tell me the name of Quinn's second in command. If you're correct and your name is drawn, you'll win!

Silvertone ear cuff (small to medium sz)

Contest ends midnight, Sunday, October 21, 2012 and the winner announced that week. Remember to check back to see if you've won. Good Luck!


Must be 18+ to enter. The odds of winning depend upon the number of participants. Contest void where prohibited by law. I strive to make my prize winners happy! However, as with all my contests, it is the participant’s responsibility to check the blog to see if their name is announced as a winner, and/or to respond to winning notification emails in order to claim your prize. Not responsible for lost/stolen mail.

Sit and Read A Spell Excerpt and Contest

One of the first ebooks I penned was I Put A Spell On You. The story was about a guy who used to spend the summers with his grandparents and of the girl next door he fell in love with and would watch through his bedroom window. It was a story about unrequited love and passionate desire. Of how you never forget your first love and sometimes wonder if there's a chance you can go back and make it work.

But something was missing. Sure I had strong characters, and the required amount of conflict. But it needed a spark to give it magic.

The minute I realized the missing element was magic, the story came together in a single week. I made the heroine a witch, even better, a hereditary witch with a witchy sister and witchy parents. The heroine would own a magic and herbal shop with her sister. I wanted to make this a rom com in addition to erotic, so I thought about it and gave the witch her cat and used him as a comedic device.

While writing one of the final scenes, the group CCR came on the oldies station and I thought the song playing would make the perfect title. The excerpt below is from my little witchy story, I Put A Spell On You.


I Put A Spell On You
by Cassandra Curtis

“I could use some help here, Mia.” Tess Warner balanced on her tiptoes and tried once more to shove the box back on the top shelf.

“Sorry, didn’t see you struggling there.”

The sisters finished unpacking the crate and stocking the shelves
.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen my ladder?” Tess glanced around.

“Nope. Maybe you should go borrow Sebastian’s.”

“I’d rather eat a cow.”

“That’s pretty bad—you being a vegetarian and all.” Mia bit back a laugh. Tess would only take so much teasing.

“Don’t even think it.” Finished with the new stock, Tess rearranged the potion bottles so that they were back in alphabetical order. “I decided to put the past behind us and go say hello yesterday, but he was too involved staring down Cheerleader Tina’s cleavage.”

“Why, if I didn’t know better I’d say you sounded jealous. It’s been over ten years since high school. Tina Talinsky can’t help showing off her new boob job. Heck, even I stared and I’m straight!”

“Har, har. Well, I can’t stand that overblown walking ego. He only masquerades as a human being.”

“Oh, come on. You had a thing for him once—admit it.”

“Never. He may think he’s God’s gift to women, but I asked the Goddess to return the gift.”

“And she did. Right back to you.” Mia smiled at her sister. Tess had gotten a full measure of their great-grandma Elwena’s pixie heritage. Only five foot one in boots, Tess always complained about getting screwed in the gene pool. Short blonde curls covered her head in disarray. Her cornflower blue eyes were large for her heart-shaped face and dainty chin. But it was her slightly canted ears that drew whispers.

“Very funny. I remember those summers—even if you don’t.” Finished with the potion bottles, she started straightening the willow wood besoms in the oak barrel.

“I know he razzed you a lot, but you didn’t see what I saw when he teased you.”

Tess turned, hand on hip. “And what was that?”

“The bulge in his jeans!” Mia dodged the broom Tess used to swat at her. Both women giggled like schoolgirls.

“Oh, I did more than see it—I felt it, remember?”

“That’s right, the infamous kiss.”

“You’re just jealous.” Tess placed the wood besom back in the barrel.

“I still can’t understand why you slapped him.”

“That’s because you’re a hussy, sister mine.”

“Guilty as charged and loving every minute of it.”

“Does Jake know?” Tess asked, laughing.

A chime rang at the front door. They had a customer. Mia nodded to Tess and walked to the front of the store and the pastry counter. She doubted their early morning visitor came for the beeswax candles or dragon’s blood. Her jaw dropped open when she realized who it was in their store.

“Oh my…” She trailed off, eyeing the broad expanse of smooth muscles and tanned flesh. If it weren’t for Jake, her new husband, she would be sorely tempted. She envied her sister.

“Mia Warner all grown up and breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Sebastian Matthews. Wondered when you would make it over here. I saw you moving in last week. Welcome back.”

“Thanks. How have you been?”

“Not bad. But the last name isn’t Warner anymore. Got married this May.” She proudly flashed her diamond-encrusted wedding band.

“Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I’d remember?”

“Nope. My husband bought the old Erikson house last year. Jake is a writer—paranormal thrillers.”

“Don’t tell me, he came in here to do a little witchy research and saw you. Probably forgot to take notes.” Sebastian grinned, glancing around.

“Looking for someone?”

“Your sister.”

“A wise man would put his shirt back on first.”

“And cover my best asset?”

Mia tilted her head, and checked out his firm little ass.

“Ah, I stand corrected.” He winked at her and started to put on the T-shirt, but a familiar voice stopped him. He looked over the bunched neckline to his left.

Mia smiled—let the games begin.

“I’m sorry, but you need shoes and a shirt to be serviced.”

“Is that a promise?” He pulled the shirt over his head, covering his pecs, and rippled abs.

The minute the sentence flew out her mouth, Tess realized someone could mistake her meaning. She flushed as the man twisted her comment into a double entendre and wondered if he’d hold her to her word. A shiver snaked down her spine at the wanton thought. His skin was taut, golden perfection, the muscles rock hard.

When the half-naked customer finished pulling on his T-shirt, she got a good look at his face and swore under her breath. Sebastian Matthews—figures. No one else had the chutzpah to use sexual banter like a weapon and trade blows with her.

“You filled out nice, Tess.”

“Wish I could say the same for you,” she lied. Damn, it wasn’t fair. The cute boy had grown into one hell of a gorgeous man. Sun-streaked brown hair fell in thick waves an inch or two shy of brushing the collar of his T-shirt. On the surface, his dark blue eyes twinkled, reflecting humor. A deeper look revealed mesmerizing secrets and barely restrained sexual hunger. Bedroom eyes.

“Sounds like a challenge, Ms. Warner. Want to play show and tell? I could show you how much I’ve grown.”

“And I could tell you to shove it where the sun don’t shine, pretty boy.”

“Hmm…have to think about that one, sweetheart. Didn’t know you were game for that sort of thing.”

Her sister tried to smother her snort of laughter. Warmth crept up her neck and cheeks. She’d love to wipe that smirk off his face. Maybe a little saltpeter… She used to be better at this—taking him down a notch, putting him in his place. He seemed to enjoy embarrassing and shocking her…making her blush.

“Sorry about your grandparents, by the way. They were lovely people.” There—formal, businesslike and polite.

“Yes, unlike me.” He winked at Mia, continuing, “I miss both of them. But we weren’t talking about my grandparents, were we? You changed the subject, Tess. And that’s against the rules.”

“The rules? You actually play by a set of rules, Mr. Matthews?”

His lips curved in a slow, predatory smile. She refused to spar with him anymore today. Time for her to regroup. “I have to make some calls. It’s been nice, but I have a business to run. I’m sure you understand.”

She turned to her sister. “Mia, try to interest Mr. Matthews in purchasing some honeybuns. He needs to bulk up on carbs.” Her lips quirked. “He’s a little scrawny.” Satisfied with her parting shot, she casually walked to the back storeroom, a tiny grin on her face.

###

Did you read the excerpt? 

If you did then you should know what Tess was straightening in the oak barrels. Leave a comment with your guess and if you're correct and your name is drawn, you'll win the prize pictured here. 

Contest ends midnight, Sunday, October 14, 2012 and the winner announced that week. Remember to check back to see if you've won. Good Luck!





Must be 18+ to enter. The odds of winning depend upon the number of participants. Contest void where prohibited by law. I strive to make my prize winners happy! However, as with all my contests, it is the participant’s responsibility to check the blog to see if their name is announced as a winner, and/or to respond to winning notification emails in order to claim your prize. Not responsible for lost/stolen mail.