Sunday Smooch with Clare Connelly

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!


 
Today we have a smooch from Clare Connelly but first 


... the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is Jan Vanengen


Can you please contact louisageorgeauthor (at) gmail (dot) com to receive your prize.


And now for today's Sunday Smooch from Clare's debut Harlequin Presents - Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge!

 Sold to the ruthless tycoon! 

Innocent socialite Marnie Kenington was devastated when her parents forced her to spurn Nikos Kyriazis. She's never forgotten him, nor his raw sensuality. So years later, when Nikos insists on a meeting, Marnie's heart leaps…until Nikos strikes a cold, hard deal. Her family is on the verge of bankruptcy and he will rescue them—if she becomes his wife! 

Marnie's rejection drove self-made billionaire Nikos to unimaginable success. Now, he'll take his revenge. Marnie's poise is legendary, but he knows in the bedroom he can take her apart, piece by sensual piece…

Scene set-up

Marnie and Nikos are newly wed in their marriage of convenience, something Marnie has entered only to save her father from bankruptcy. They’ve just arrived at his mansion on the outskirts of Athens and Nikos is showing Marnie around. She’s told him she’ll need an office and he’s surprised – he didn’t know she worked and begins to wonder what else he doesn’t know about his bride…After all, it’s been six years. Is she still the same woman he once thought he loved?

Smooch  -


‘Does it matter? Do you care? Or are you just surprised that I haven’t been rocking in a corner over the demise of our relationship since you left?’

Though frustrated by Marnie’s reticence to speak honestly, Nikos liked seeing the spark that brought colour to her cheeks and impishness to her eyes. It intrigued him. He far preferred it to the obedient contrition she’d modelled in the kitchen.

Instantly he thought of other ways in which he might inspire a similar reaction.

He nodded, concealing his innermost thoughts. ‘Fine, have it your way. I do not need to know about your employment if you do not wish to speak of it.’ He shrugged, as though the conversation was now boring him. ‘I’ll have a room made available. Just let my assistant know what you need in terms of infrastructure and he’ll see you’re set up.’

‘He? You have a male assistant?’

It was Nikos’s turn to act surprised. ‘Yes. Bart. He’s been with me five years.’

She laughed quietly and shook her head. ‘I guess that makes sense. I can imagine you’d run through female secretaries pretty damned fast, given your track record for taking any woman with a pulse to bed.’

‘Jealous, agape?’

She’d been jealous, all right. For years she’d followed his exploits in the gossip columns. Like watching a train crash, she’d been powerless not to stare at the pictures. They’d come to life in her over-fertile imagination so that she hadn’t simply looked at an attractive couple coming out of some hot spot so much as imagined them in bed, or perhaps on the dining table, or the kitchen floor, while she lay in her own bed. Alone, untouched, able only to dream of Nikos rather than feel his hands on her body...

‘Oh, yes,’ she simpered, with an attempt at false sincerity. ‘I’ve spent the last six years desperately waiting for you to reappear in my life. I’ve been missing you and dreaming about you and praying you’d turn up and blackmail me into a loveless marriage. This is pretty much the high point of my life, actually.’

‘And we haven’t even slept together yet,’ he said, in a voice that was honey and dynamite.  

Her breath caught in her throat. She spun away from him, her cheeks flushed.

‘What is it, agape? Suddenly you are shy? It is our wedding night.’

She lifted a hand to her throat and lightly rubbed her skin. ‘I... Of course not.’ She squared her shoulders. Hadn’t she been dreaming about this for as long as she’d known him?’

‘Relax.’ His hands on her shoulders were firm. He spun her in the circle of his arms so that they were facing one another, his warmth offering some comfort to her. ‘You are shaking like a leaf.’

Tell  him the truth! She fluttered her eyes closed, her lashes dark circles against her pale cheeks.

‘You are my wife.’ He pressed a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his. His eyes were troubled, tormented. ‘Are you...afraid of me?’

It was so uncharacteristic of him to show doubt that she raced to reassure him. ‘Of course I’m not.

She shook her head, inhaling a deep breath that flooded her system with his spicy scent. ‘I’m afraid of

myself, and of what I want right now.’

He nodded, silently imploring her to continue.

‘You hate my father. I think you might even hate me.’ She lifted a finger to his lips to stop him from speaking. ‘But I don’t hate you.’ Her eyes were enormous, loaded with fear and desire. ‘I don’t hate you...’

Her finger, initially placed against his mouth to silence him, dragged slowly across his lower lip. Her eyes followed its progress as if mesmerised. She knew he was going to kiss her. The intent was in every line of his body. If she’d wanted to she could have stepped away. She could have asked for more time. Instead she lifted herself up on tiptoe, crushing her mouth to his.

In that bittersweet moment all Marnie needed was to right one of the biggest wrongs of her past: she wanted Nikos and, damn it, she was finally going to have him.

To hell with the consequences. They’d be waiting for her afterwards.

Her body flashed like flame when his mouth crushed down on hers with the kind of intensity that spoke of long-held desire. She was powerless to swim against the tide of need: powerless and unwilling.

Her feminine heart was hot and wet, slick with moisture and need. Unfamiliar but instinct-driven urges were controlling her body. Her hands pushed under his shirt, seeking skin and warmth. She traced her fingertips up his hair-roughened chest, splaying her fingers wide. She felt the beating of his heart beneath her touch; it was as frantic as her own.

His body weight pushed her downwards—not to the bed but to the floor, to her knees. He knelt with her, kissing her, his tongue clashing fiercely with hers as his hands pulled through her hair then pushed at her head, holding her against his mouth. She groaned into him, marking their kiss with the desperation that was scrawling a painful tattoo across her being—inking her as his in a way that would never be erased.

He pulled at her as his body pushed at hers until she fell back onto the carpet. His weight on top of her was divine. She curved her hands to his back, digging her nails into his warm skin as she felt the power of his arousal for herself. Hard and firm through their layers of clothing, a bodily ache was spreading through her. She lifted her hips, silently begging him for more. To mark her once and for all.

‘Nikos!’ She cried his name into the room and he groaned in response. ‘Please!’

For a chance to win a signed paperback of Clare's debut, she'd like you to have some fun with the question below in the comments section!

"If you absolutely had to enter into a marriage of convenience, who would you choose to marry? (Not including real-life spouses of course!) I'll go first... it would be a tough choice for me between Tarzan and Captain Von Trapp... you?"

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and another smooch will be posted!

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver

Creative Friends.....

I love being an author. And I'm very grateful that I have readers who enjoy reading my stories and I hope I'll be doing it for many years to come. That being said, I also have a full time day job - I manage a busy furniture store in the town near where I live. I've been in the retail/customer service industry for most of my working life and have had a very rewarding career over the years.

But someone asked me the other day why I 'work' when I could just 'write'.

And I replied as I always do - because I want to. Because writing is a creative task and I always need to fill the well of creativity that gets depleted up every time I put fingers to keyboard and write a book. And working fills that well. Leading a team, making decisions, achieving KPI's - all the things that are part of the day job, somehow fill up the space.

I once heard the expression  - "Busy people get more done", and for me, that's very true.

What I love about creativity is that it comes in so many forms, art, song, dance, design, food preparation. And I'm grateful that I have many creative friends - not only authors, but talented people who pursue other ventures. I have a friend who recently painted an abstract piece for me for my living room. I have another friend who makes the most amazing desserts that truly are a work of art.

And then there's the sublime work of a dear friend on mine - The Flower Grocer.

 

 What she can do with flowers and foliage is absolutely amazing. The pictures below are from a beautiful wedding she recently styled. Check out The Flower Grocer Facebook page to see a full range of her incredible work. Such talent!

 

 

 

Such a beautiful bridal bouquet. 

 Do you have creative friends? Or do you dabble in creative pursuits yourself?

Montana Mountain High

by Bronwyn Jameson

For as long as I can remember I’ve been mad about horses. Despite being a somewhat timid and bookish child, I managed to gather enough courage to pester my parents incessantly for a pony. It took many years of pestering – okay, so my temerity may have meant I didn’t nag hard enough in the early years – but eventually my persistence was rewarded.

That first pony was named Creamy and I loved her with complete devotion. The only thing better than setting off for a long ride on my pony, was stuffing a book into the waistband of my jeans (so my Dad wouldn’t notice; he did not approve of this multi-tasking.) I would stop somewhere along the way and read while Creamy grazed or napped. The happiest of happy days.

Through my teenage years I progressed to Sooty then Jimmy and finally Cerise. My last riding horse before university. My devotion didn’t wane, but it took a sabbatical and while we still own horses they are not saddle horses. I’ve ridden my sister’s horses, driven our horses, and taken an occasional trail ride while on holidays. And as the years passed, the idea of a holiday devoted to nothing but horse-riding rose to the top of my Bucket List.

In June I did just that, at a Montana dude-ranch. My assigned horse was a dude named Woodrow and we spent a wonderful week riding mountain trails and loping across high-country pastures. It was everything my horsemad-teenage-heart could have wished for. With rustic cabin accommodation. A cowgirl hat. And pie.

Day 1: Meeting Woodrow

Day 2: on the trail

Day 3: with Emigrant Peak as a backdrop

Day 4: hay-ride with these big Belgian beauties

Day 5: the high country

Boots off, my cabin home

Pie anyone?

Do you have a "bucket list"?  Is there one thing right at the top of your list, or one thing you've longed to do/try with a backstory dating back to your childhood?

A Collection of Covers...with Stefanie London

Even though I'm a writer, I'm an extremely visual person. So, getting a cover for my book is really one of the most exciting moments of the process for me. Seeing how a cover artist has interpreted my story and brought it visual life is fascinating! 

My editor shared this awesome image (which you can see better here) which shows the process of how Harlequin covers used to be made. Very cool!

These days the Harlequin covers are photos, and could either be a custom picture or a manipulated stock images. 

With my first book, Only The Brave Try Ballet, the original photo was a stock image with a woman's bare feet wrapped behind a man's back. The team digitally included the pointe shoes and tutu to suit my story.

  

The are the English language versions (Australia with the red banner, US with the pink, and UK with the blue) which all use the same image.

Personally I LOVE the pink KISS covers - not just mine but all the ones they made when the line was still around. They just had such a fun, bright, flirty tone to them. It was a perfect match to the books.

  

Here are the non-English versions (Lithuanian with the orange, Hungarian with the red, and German with the dark red.)

Which ones do you prefer?

And I'm curious, for covers in general, what draws you in? 

• Do you like a couple on the cover or a single person? 
• Does it bother you if the people on the cover don't match what's inside the book?
• Anything that makes you just go "no way!"?

I'd love to hear which covers you love, if you have a favourite, then leave it in the comments below so I can check it out.

Sunday Smooch with....Louisa George

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!

Today we have a smooch from Louisa George, but first ...

the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is Mary Lawson!

Mary, can you please email: Annie (at) annie-west (dot) com to receive your copy of The Italian’s Bold Reckoning!

And now for today's Sunday Smooch from Louisa George's new fun contemporary romance, Something About You

Back cover blurb:

Will they risk their friendship for a night of unbridled passion?

A broken heart …
Widow Jenna Cassidy-Pearce has had her one love of a lifetime. Now she’s fine being single and focusing on her new floristry business, raising her daughter and spending time with her friends. On top of all that she’s also organizing a very secret wedding for her sister, the wedding-shy wedding planner. Jenna’s life is a whirlwind of busy-but-in-control, and that’s just how she likes it – it keeps the loneliness and the longing at bay. So when old friend Nick Welsh comes back into her life she's not prepared for the onslaught of emotions and unwelcome lust she feels for him.

A damaged soldier …
After surviving bombs and bombshells that damaged his life and destroyed all trust, ex army officer Nick Welsh has returned to London for a quiet life. He definitely does not want to get embroiled in Jenna's chaotic one, but there's something about the spirited redhead with the sparkling blue eyes and complete inability to sit still that makes him keep seeking her out, and there’s a whole lot of chemistry he just can't deny.
The healing power of love
Is he ready to trust again? And can he teach Jenna that everyone deserves another chance at love?

Kiss Scene:-  Set up: Good friends Jenna and Nick are fighting an unbidden attraction. Earlier in the day he’d been called out to a crime scene and found Jenna there…innocent and panicking. He’s just called round to check in on her, brought dinner and is avoiding any kind of meaningful conversation and that’s frustrating the heck out of her…

For a few minutes, they put lids on the leftover food, scrunched up the paper bags and wiped down the counters. In silence. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. But when they’d scrubbed the table until there was little evidence of any varnish, she knew they had to do something. ‘Right, well, thanks for the food, but I’m bushed and it’s getting late, so I should get some sleep.’

            His shoulders were hunched and his face was grim. ‘Okay, I get the message. I’m going.’

            It was funny, though. Even though they could barely speak to each other, she felt as if there was something tugging them open, making them face things they didn’t want to face, making things deeper between them. Deeper, but still very raw. Her heart was aching to make things right.

            Maybe a good argument was what made friendships better, lasting, deeper. Only time was going to tell. She walked him to the door. ‘I’ll think about the running club.’

            He nodded. ‘Good, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Oh, and don’t go attacking anyone with flowers, okay?’

            ‘Okay. Even though it clearly runs in the family.’

            ‘I’ll keep my distance then.’ He looked at her and she at him, and she could see so many emotions flicking through his eyes. Something he wanted, something he needed. Something hungry and scary and also exciting in equal measure. He turned and tugged the door open, taking a step towards it.

            But then he stopped, his breath quickening as he faced her. Troubled. Struggling to find words. ‘No, actually, I won’t. You want to know things about me? About what I think? How I feel?’

            The way he was looking at her, she wasn’t sure she did want to know. But she wanted him to stay.

Yes. She wanted to know everything about him. How he felt in her arms, how he kissed. How he made love. How he felt about her—about this. ‘I—’

            ‘You want me to say it out loud? Do you?’ He didn’t wait for her to speak. ‘How about how freaked I was when I saw you on the floor in that house?’

            ‘Well, you weren’t exactly expecting me to be there.’

            ‘It wasn’t just shock.’ His hand dropped from the door handle and he took a step closer to her. Closer still. He filled the space in front of her. All she could see was the ardent look on his face, the way he was trying to stop the words. The intense gaze in his eyes. The broad chest of a man more used to exercise than sleep. She could smell his scent of clean and citrus, and she moved closer to it. ‘There was a lot more going on.’

            The awkward irritation of before melted into something intense. The whole room felt alive with it. Her heart started to hammer. Her mouth was wet and dry, and she could barely force words out. All her senses were heightened to his smell, his voice, the heat shimmering off him. ‘What did you feel?’

            His eyes glittered. ‘That I’m in deep trouble.’

            Heat pooled in her belly and spread fast through her whole body. ‘What kind of trouble?’     

            ‘Big, big trouble. The biggest. There’s something about you, Jenna….’ His thumb ran over her bottom lip and his gaze locked on to hers. ‘When we were sitting on that wall, I couldn’t think straight. I should have been making sure you were okay, or taking you home, or going back to work. I should have been the man. Looking after you, doing a ton of other things, but all I could think of was how much I wanted to…’

            She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Didn’t want to imagine—no, she imagined a whole lot. Wanted to live it too. ‘Wanted to what?’

            ‘To do this.’ His fingers cupped her face and drew her towards him. His head tilted and his mouth slid over hers with gentle pressure.

            Her breath stopped in her lungs as her body began to tingle, then tremble.

            But he drew slowly back, a question in his eyes. Is this okay?

            She couldn’t find any words. Despite everything she knew, or thought she knew, this man… this amazing, beautiful, complicated man did want to kiss her.

            It had been so long, too long. What if she did the wrong thing? What if she messed up or he didn’t like the way she responded? How do you kiss?

            Geez, you’re twenty-bloody-six. Get a grip.

            Instinct took over and she tugged him back to her, opening her mouth and tasting him—tasting the wine and something that was pure male, pure Nick.

            She wound her hands around his neck and pressed herself against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth making her knees almost buckle.

            How do you kiss?

            Like this and this and this and this and…

            Her eyes fluttered open, and over his shoulder she could see the dark night sky through the open doorway. A smattering of stars, the glow of a streetlight. The noise of the road filtered through, and she blocked it out. Blocked all reality, all good sense, all reasoning. Because this was her one chance. They both knew it would never, could never, happen again.

            She groaned against him as his hands ran along her neck, to her shoulders, caressing her, stroking her, and for one beautiful moment, she felt as light as those stars and blazing as hot. Hotter.

            But suddenly, too soon, he pulled away then pressed his forehead against hers. ‘God, Jen, I’m sorry.’

            ‘No, don’t be sorry, Nick. Please, bloody well don’t be.’ She was still shaking, every part of her off balance because of him, because of that kiss. She held on to his shoulders to stabilise herself. Kissing was one thing, collapsing certainly wouldn’t look good. ‘That was amazing.’

            ‘And really dumb. I’m the last thing you need.’ Stepping back, he put distance between them, it might as well have been light years. He had no idea what she needed. Right now, it was a lot more kissing.

Louisa is giving away a digital copy of her book to one lucky commenter!  So her question to you is:

What is your favourite romantic movie and why?

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced -- and a smooch from lovely guest Clare Connelly will be posted!