Thursday, February 11, 2016


Come join us in our expose' on Cassi from BEYOND THE THRESHOLD.  She is a fun-loving, full-bodied hottie, who has her own unique look and style.  We thought it would be fun to expose, with emphasis on the word expose some of her outfits over the next several weeks.


Cassi noticed a man wearing Bruno Magli shoes and belt, and knew he probably had money.  She liked that men of such a station in life took her to nicer places.  She caught his eyes, surreyed toward him, wiggling all the important female parts, parts that attracted. She opened, "If you were a veggie, you'd be a cute-cumber."  She trailed an index finger across his cheek.

"Your daddy must be a baker, because you have some cute hot buns."  The thirty-something guy ogled her as if she were a classic car. 

The man's quid pro quo flirt brought a smile.  Cassi turned and stuck out her bum. "Tasty?"
"I bet."

"So tell me, Stud, how many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

He ran his finger along her thick athletic leg, slightly lifting her mini skirt.  "Tell me.  How many."

"Two.  The inside of a light bulb is generally too small for more."

"I get it."

She retreated pulling her dress' hem from his grasp.

The man asked, "So do I understand that you are interested in my cute-cumber?"  He spun his drink glass waiting for an answer.


"On what?"


"You are such a tart."

"You have no clue."  She ogled him from his belt buckle downward.  "Got to go.  I have to sing."
What was this really about?  Maybe tips.  Cassi wanted to see where the thing with Beef was going, but she had to make money.  And she made more when she flirted.

Soon enough the night started to wind down, and after Cassi did a few sets, followed by a fair share of flirting, she made her way to the bar.  

"You okay?" Cassi asked. "Gus told me about the attack.  Guys can be pricks!"

"Colorful language.  I’ve been better, but life goes on."

"Does it hurt?  Girl, you should have taken the night off. Gus and I can handle this place.  I can find you a guy who will beat the guy who did this."


"You should have taken the night off."

"I know, but I got tired of staring at the walls.  Besides I was taught that you never avoid hard work."
Having changed out of her swimwear for something more evening at the bar, Cassi hopped onto a barstool, her short skirt rode upwards displaying an amble length of powerful thighs, and if one was strategically located they could view her white panties adorned with pink flowers at her mound. Of course, she didn’t bother to adjust the skirt.  Hannah blushed for her. 

Twenty-five-year-old Cassi, may have been determined to get an hourglass figure that matched the voluptuous cartoon character, Jessica Rabbit.  She was the Sapphic Amazonian type, full and strong and fleshy, who wore a corset almost daily.  

Her trust fund availed the disposable money to have two breast augmentations that took her larger than average H cups and made them Os, measuring some eighteen inches around, more than her rib cage measurement.  Exercise, a rib crushing corset, liquid diet and liposuction gave her a twenty-three inch waist, set off by thirty-eight inch hips and forty-seven inch chest.   Jessica Rabbit?  Bigger boobs.

Hannah and Cassi were birds of a feather, in that their body shapes were similar, though Cassi's was far more extreme, while Hannah hid her assets with baggy clothing.  

This evening Cassi wore a tight fitting black pull-over top having a horseshoe neckline, showing a medium pizza-sized circle of boob top, yes, so severe in its scoop that nipple tops were visible.  Cassi was always aware of her décolletage, why, it made her the center of attentions everywhere she went.  Men wanted her and women envied her.  This blouse was cut so low that the top of her enormously cantilevered  breasts monopolized the visual-landscape.  Her micro-mini scarlet red skirt was belted with yellow leather having a filigree flora silver buckle.  Those extraordinary legs were covered with dark thigh-highs.  Her black heels were stilettos.   And remember, her panties were white with pink flowers.

Shaking her head, Cassi laughed. There wasn’t an iota of cynicism behind it. "Ah, honey, you really don’t belong here.  You aren't bar people. Why don’t you just get married, sell this place to me, and open that gift shop you keep talking about."  She winked at a man who slid his chair a bit left so he could look up her skirt, and then she subtly splayed her legs.  She sniggered, "I can graze for tips with the best of them."  

Picking up a rag, Hannah scrubbed invisible marks on the mahogany bar. "Like I can just produce the perfect husband by wishing it.  Matchmakers have tried.  They failed.  What do I know that they don't?"

"There are plenty of good guys."  Cassi pointed to her own drink as she caught the eyes of the ogling man, pantomiming that he should buy her a drink.  "Gus that guy wants to buy me..."
"Got you."  Gus dispensed a soda in a flute style champagne glass for her, charged the man for a cocktail drink, and put the difference in price into the tip jar they shared.    

Cassi thanked the man with a wave and breast juggle then she turned to Hannah and quipped, "He believes that I was only a florist's daughter, and whenever I got potted I got deflowered."
"That is so unfair," noted Hannah as she dropped her bar rag onto Cassi's lap covering the panties she was displaying.

"Boss, I was trolling."

"You are putting the emphasize on the wrong syllable."

"Sweetie, it is how you hook a man.  Hook one, girl.  How about the cowboy from the other night? He seemed interested, and I never saw you so flustered by the opposite sex since I’ve known you.  He turned you on?  Didn't he?  Go girl.  Go for it.  Get your cowpokin'... on!  Darlin'"

"I can't have my cake and eat it too."

"Ooooo, my girl is into oral sex."  She slapped Hannah on her ample tush. "You heard about the farmer who couldn't keep his hands off his wife?  Get it.  His hired hands.  Think about a dozen callused paws gabbing, slipping up and under her farm wear, taking liberties with that naive young wife.  Do you think she liked it?  I would have.  Can we say gang bang?  More dickin' for the lickin'."

"Enough!" Hannah scolded as she flushed red.  Infidelity played a role in her past.  "The next man I know, I want to marry."

"So douche and take the PU out of your pussy.  Dress like a Pussy's meow.  Get it.  Pussy cat.  Get caught with your panties down.  My point.  Don't wear underwear.  Do your nails, hair, and shave all pubes.  I am thinking that you cook for him.  But remember that one who boils cabbage and peas in the same pot is unsanitary.  I'm a hoot.  But no, make him a meal.  Have knockwurst, bananas, cucumbers, and huge zucchinis sitting on the counter.  Stroke them like you admire their shape.  Tease.  Sweetie, you can't swim without getting into the water, so get wet, really wet, get as sloppy as a soup sandwich.  That is a sure fire way to land a man."  

"Okay, I’ll just go up to him, ask him out and propose on the first date. So what if we don’t know each other. After all, I need a husband for my own reasons.  He may want a wife for his reasons."
"Have fun with it."

"You need to think about how to make your life meaningful and beautiful.  Find bliss of the heart not from a romp in the bed sheets."

Cassi threw the bar rag at Hannah who picked it up and acted as if she was cleaning. Hannah gasped at her own bluntness. The rag stopped moving as her face flooded with shame. "Oh, Cassi, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what possessed my tongue.  This is a case of the dancer blaming the stage."
The redden-flaxen haired woman grinned. "About time you got some spunk. And, you’re right; I do need some responsibility. I didn’t like how that Naji galoot looked at me last night.  I felt judged as a tramp.  Sure, I am risqué, but I am not a whore."

"Actions can cast a very long shadow."

"Sometimes, I don’t like who I’m becoming, and I don’t like it that you got attacked by some brute that I probably could have charmed out the door.  But, the right man has not jiggled my chimes, so I'll do what I do well, trading fantasy for tips."

"Take care trying to catch a falling knife." Hannah lifted a brow, knowing Naji was one man Cassi couldn’t ever charm, but no use spoiling Cassi’s illusions. The woman seemed on the edge of self-revelation. 

"So, I have an idea," Cassi went on. "Let me dangle a carrot in front of you.  Carrots... add them to the cucumber and banana ploy."

"What's your idea?"

It didn-t shock Sheriff Adam McGreggor to discover the owner of the local seaside nightclub was once part of a sect. Hannah Holt-s entire appearance and attitude just didn-t fit her profession. Her reluctance to press charges against an assailant that left her battered and drugged, however, did shock Adam to his core. Even more jolting was his instantaneous attraction to this woman who fought his every advance.
But Hannah has a secret he cannot begin to fathom ... she is from a parallel world....
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a free ebook (choose erotic or romantic thriller) and add you to any future mailings.


Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane - -

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Talking with author Pippa Jay

Hi, I’m Pippa Jay, author of scifi and the supernatural with a romantic soul. I’ve just released the second book in my scifi romance series Redemption. The original inspiration for Keir’s Fall came from a single line of lyrics from Livin’ in a World Without You by The Rasmus. The exact line is "You paralyzed my body with your poisoned kiss." So I thought I’d talk about five killer kisses (and in some cases, that’s literally!) that helped inspire mine.

A Dementor’s Kiss
Any fan of Harry Potter will know of the soul-sucking deadly kiss of the creepy Dementors. Ghostly, dark entities who feed off the good memories and feelings, causing depression, and eventually leading to their victims becoming as empty and evil as the Dementor. According to Snape, the kiss of a Dementor is a terrible thing to witness but something he was willing to face to see his old adversary Sirius Black get some payback for years of bullying.

Poison Ivy
A DC supervillain, an adversary of Batman, and an eco-terrorist, she uses various plant toxins instead of lip-gloss which can cause rapture or death (but her kiss can also cure). So you’re taking a real gamble letting her kiss you for the first time with a very literal kill or cure. Would you be willing to try it?

Farscape: A Kiss is but a Kiss
In this particular episode of the much underrated scifi series, lost Earth astronaut John Crichton is kissed by an alien princess. Apparently the sweetness of the kiss indicated that he was the only one capable of giving her children, a requirement for her to rule. Of course, the antagonists in this episode had set it up so the princess would never find a mate, and so the crown would pass to another. The deadliness of this kiss lies in the probable assassination of Crichton so their plans aren’t thwarted!

Stargate (The Tok’ra Part One) -
If you’re ever asked to kiss a Tok’ra, beware that their alien symbiote isn’t looking to move home. While the Tok’ra are supposedly benevolent in that the hosts volunteer and work in partnership with their parasite rather than being slaves to it (like the Goa’uld, and especially the System Lords) there’s still a dark side to it. While the symbiote may heal, offer longevity, good health and a wealth of knowledge, be sure you want to be home to a parasite before any smooching.

Velvets (Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, BBC TV adaptation)
Hapless hero Richard Mayhew accepts Lamia - one of the Velvets, a group of black clad, gothically dressed women - as a guide through London Below. Unfortunately for him the payment she wants come as a kiss that sucks all the heat from his body, like some heat vampire. However, he’s saved from becoming a ‘cold, dead thing’ like the Velvets by the Marquis de Carabas.

Can you think of any others to add? Or have you had a killer kiss of your own?


A seductive tyrant. A lost hero. And a galaxy about to fall...

It’s been a year in paradise for Keir and Quin, but now the idyll is over. After Quin falls sick, they return to the hidden sanctuary of Lyagnius, and what she learns there will not only change their lives, but set them on a journey that could separate them forever.

When Keir falls victim to a ruthless Nercaandi Empress bent on conquering the galaxy with her cybernetic army, it will take all Quin’s diminishing powers and the help of her son to find him. But what waits for her aboard the tyrant’s ship will test her strength and the limits of their love, and put everything she cares about at risk. Including Keir.

With the galaxy itself about to fall, will she be able to save him?

A Science Fiction Romance novel, Book Two of the Redemption series and part of the Travellers Universe.

Giveaway! A print edition of Keir’s Fall is currently up at Goodreads here -
(open internationally until the end of February).

You can also pick up book one - Keir - at NetGalley to read and review for free here -

Buy links

Fragmented sunbeams fell through the gauzy insect netting at the windows to pattern the smooth timber floor. Keir paused, and his breath caught. Dappled light touched the woman sprawled across the bed, asleep under a woven blanket in shades of blue. Her tousled red hair half-covered her face, one arm was folded across her stomach, and the other laid palm upward on the pillow beside her head. The elfin face was childlike, her skin pale gold with freckles scattered over her small nose, her expression one of contented oblivion.
His chest tightened. Even now, it seemed beyond belief that he should be here, that he should have such a peaceful life and someone as beautiful and loving as Quin to share it with. The idyll of Kasha-Asor would be nothing without her by his side. Each day with her was a blessing. All the more so because he had once believed her dead by his own actions.
On impulse, he lifted the netting aside, but as his shadow passed over her, her gray eyes snapped open. In a flurry of blankets, she leaped from the bed and knocked him to the floor. Pain speared through his body as she straddled him and pinned his hands.
“Never,” she told him in a low growl, “ever try to sneak up on me in bed!”
Winded, he could only nod, and she gave him an impish grin before leaning down to kiss him. Freeing himself from her grip, he slid his hands slowly along her back as he returned her kiss, ruffling the short, turquoise shift she wore. The pain faded into irrelevance as he buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her close. Her lips were sweet and hot, her body warm and soft against his. The scent of azuri flowers filled his nostrils, and heat spiraled through him.
“Ahmiri.” The Metraxian word for soul mate had become his special name for her, and her kisses deepened. For a few blissful moments, he lost himself in her response, in the fiery glow of her thoughts. Then she sat up, shattering the rapture as she disentangled herself from his embrace.
“Where are you going?”

Bio and links

After spending twelve years working as an Analytical Chemist in a Metals and Minerals laboratory, Pippa Jay is now a stay-at-home mum who writes scifi and the supernatural. Somewhere along the way a touch of romance crept into her work and refused to leave. In between torturing her plethora of characters, she spends the odd free moment playing guitar very badly, punishing herself with freestyle street dance, and studying the Dark Side of the Force. Although happily settled in the historical town of Colchester in the UK with her husband of 22 years and three little monsters, she continues to roam the rest of the Universe in her head.

Pippa Jay is a dedicated member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade, Broad Universe, and EPIC,  blogging at Spacefreighters Lounge, Adventures in Scifi, and Romancing the Genres. Her works include YA and adult stories crossing a multitude of subgenres from scifi to the paranormal, often with romance, and she’s one of eight authors included in a science fiction romance anthology—Tales from the SFR Brigade. She’s also a double SFR Galaxy Award winner, been a finalist in the Heart of Denver RWA Aspen Gold Contest (3rd place), the 2015 EPIC eBook awards, the 2015 RWA LERA Rebecca (2nd place), and the GCC RWA Silken Sands Star Awards (2nd place).

You can stalk her at her website, or at her blog, but without doubt her favorite place to hang around and chat is on Twitter as @pippajaygreen.

Blogs –
Adventures in Scifi -
Spacefreighters Lounge -

Character Interview with Leslie Scott from Susan Mac Nicol's Suit Yourself

Please give a warm welcome to Leslie Scott from Suit Yourself by Susan Mac Nicol today as we sit down and see what makes him tick.

Q: So tell us about yourself. What got you in the crosshairs for your author?

Leslie  wriggles on his chair in excitement. ‘Well, Susan has this thing for cute young guys who are sassy and just fabulous, so she found me. We get on so well together, she’s just this crazy woman who loves to test her own writing boundaries, and when she found out I love wearing corsets and heels, well that was it. We’ve been best friends ever since.’

Q: What was it that drew you to your mate?

A huge smile floods Leslie’s face and his eyes go all dreamy. ‘Oh God, this is such an amazing story to tell. My boss, who’s this crazy cross dressing fashion designer genius called Laverne asked me to go deliver a suit to some guy. I kind of owed her a favour, so I said yes. And I am so pleased she asked me, because when I got there, I got to meet Nicky Starr, the retired porn actor! I’d watched him before on his website, and he is so damn sexy. We didn’t hit it off all that well to start so I sent him a cute card with an apology  (I can be a bit overwhelming)  and he asked me out to dinner. Oliver is his real name and he’s the love of my life.’

Q: A little naughty fun, where was the wildest place you seduced your partner(s)?

Leslie grins wickedly. ‘I dressed up one night in a corset and heels and went to his place. It might not have been the most exotic location but that was one evening to remember. Oliver loves me when I dress up. We’ve had Skype sex too, and that was so fucking hot I’m hard just thinking about it.’

Q: Boxers, briefs or Commando on a man?

Leslie rolls his eyes. ‘Sweetie, Commando is always good but a man wearing a sexy pair of lacy panties? That is such a turn on. Oliver once wore a pair of mine and I couldn’t get on top of him quick enough…’

Q: If your partner wants to seduce you, what's one sure fire trick they can do to seduce you?

Leslie chuckles and flaps a hand. ‘Oh honey, all Oliver has to do is touch me and I’m on fire. And if he slides his hand down the back of my pants and grips my ass, that’s even better. I love it when he takes charge like that.’

Q: What is the one place on your partner's body that you know will drive them wild-in and out of bed?

Leslie licks his lips and leans forward. ‘Oliver’s got this really sensitive spot, just where the top of his leg meets his hip, and he loves when I lick him up and down there and finally end up you know where. Out of bed, he goes all mushy when I run my hands over his chest and tease his nipples. I know that’s kind of an intimate thing to do but he doesn’t seem to mind.’

Q: What was one of the most embarrassing things your author did to you in Suit Yourself?

Leslie shrieks loudly. ‘Oh the bitch got me to go into a room full of naked models , with female bits, and I had to talk about vaginas and paint a woman’s nipples with rouge. It was the most awful thing ever. I’ll never forgive her for that.’

Q: Anything else you would like to add?

His eyes grow soft. ‘I’m a big believer in true love and I think there’s a special someone out there for everyone. I’ve seen my friends Eddie and Taylor find their dream men and I’m so glad I have mine now.’ 

Thank you Leslie Scott for joining us on 'Meet the Character' day here at Dawn’s Reading Nook Blog. You can find all of Susan Mac Nicol’s books at Amazon.

Suit Yourself (Men of London #3) 
Release Date: May 21st 2015
Contemporary M/M

Scarred both physically and emotionally after a motorcycle accident, twenty-five year old ex fashion model and porn star Oliver Brown is about to be stripped bare by flamboyant twink Leslie Scott—and they’ll rebuild love from the bottom up.

Twenty-five year old Oliver Brown is addicted. Two years ago, he was at the height of his career as “Nikki Star,” fashion model, porn actor, partier without peer. Then came the accident. Hiding his scars, both emotional and physical, he’s gone into hiding. But fine clothing is some solace. A new suit by Debussy? Better even than a ride on his motorcycle Hulk or all the things he used to give and take on camera.

Enter Leslie Scott, the flamboyant, dark-haired, heel-and-tiny-short-wearing twink sent to deliver Oliver’s newest fix. A firecracker, Leslie is dapper, generous, in touch with his feminine side but all man, and as gorgeous as any garment ever made. He makes Oliver dream of ending his reclusion, of recapturing a future forever denied him. But for that to happen, Leslie would have to strip him to the bone. Only then will they rebuild life from the bottom up. 

Suit Yourself excerpt

Leslie was exactly what Oliver Brown was looking for. The man just didn’t know it yet. Or rather, he knew it but wasn’t ready to act. It was going to be up to Leslie to get things moving along and he decided the time had come to try his luck.
His foot gently brushed against Oliver’s under the table, and he was gratified when he started, seeing his dinner partner’s eyes heat up as he took a sip from his whisky glass. Leslie took it one step further and ran his booted foot (he hadn’t worn heels tonight, preferring to ease Oliver into that side of him a little more gradually) teasingly along Oliver’s calf.
His lips curved in a smile that said Leslie was courting trouble. The sight of those rich, pink lips around the rim of the glass, and the amusement in his eyes that said Oliver knew full well what was going on, made Leslie as hard as adamantine. He saw the Nicky Starr persona behind Oliver’s casual lick of his lips; his narrowed eyes were almost alive with hunger.
“Bit of a twitchy foot, there Leslie?” Oliver said softly, his tone dangerously seductive. “You might need some medication for that condition.”
“Oh, sorry, did I touch you? My bad. I was just getting…a little uncomfortable. I needed to stretch.” Oliver nodded slowly. Leslie felt the slow stroke of a shoe against his left leg, a gentle sweep that made him want to rip off his clothes and beg Oliver to take him right there. Manfully, he controlled that impulse. Gideon would be as pissed as hell if he didn’t.
The two men stared at each other over the remains of their dinner, each silently acknowledging that things were changing between them.
“So,” Oliver drawled as his foot crept slowly up Leslie’s thigh. “Do you think perhaps we should get the bill and get out of here? Back to my place, perhaps?”
Leslie swallowed, finding it hard to speak as that wandering foot nudged his groin. Said groin was on fire.
“What about the friends thing?” he squeaked, all the while wanting push his crotch into the foot causing him such turmoil.
Oliver’s mouth curved in a wide, sexy grin. “I kind of think that’s a little passé now, Leslie. I am so damn horny if I don’t have you soon, I’m going to come right here at this table. You have no idea how bloody sexy you look,” he murmured huskily.
Leslie knew he’d dressed to kill in his tight black jeans with a huge dragon buckle, a tight wine-red tee shirt, teamed with a black suit jacket with fine red stripes. But the lust and desire in Oliver’s eyes made him quail a little. This was a man who had lapped at other men’s arses for a living and then fucked the daylights out of them. As much as Leslie had his fantasies, he was a little overwhelmed at that thought.

Meet the Author

Susan Mac Nicol is a self- confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, geek, nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…
She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason.  She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.
Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self-righteous idiots.
In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.
Sue is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America and is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association in the UK.

My links