Friday, 31 May 2013

I smiled and Em agreed to pop by...

Am I  glad she did...

Birthdays and New Beginnings
By Em Petrova

This week on Memorial Day, it was my birthday. For year, I’ve hated the damn things. In fact, I’ve been 31 for many years in a row. I’m closer to a decade older than I still care to admit, but for some reason this year I had some inner peace about the ordeal.

The Native Americans look at the passing of time as the number of years you’ve spent revolving around the sun. Funny how a little different perspective makes one realize that the things like lines around the eyes mouth don’t really matter. What matters is how you spend the years moving around the sun with those you love.

And for me, it matters that I’m doing what I love. Not a lot of people can claim that! I’m incredibly lucky to be able to stay home with my children and write full-time. I get to spend all day with panty-scorching hot heroes and heroines who have become my BFFs. Every day is a playground to me.

Also, this year is a new year of beginnings. I’ve just ‘come out of the closet’ about my erotica pen name Hallie Knight ( ). Hallie has been writing erotica in secret for over a year, but recently she began to streamline and hone her brand into lesbian erotica.

In addition to this and my amazing career as myself—Em Petrova—I am working toward a few new publishers. Hopefully next year sees me at a writer’s conference, and I hope to meet more friends and readers. Overall, I’m happy with the place I’m at in life. After all, Abe Lincoln said, “It’s not the number of years in your life but the life in your years.”

Read on for an excerpt of my brand new hot logger book—UNTOUCHED book 2 of the Rough Boys series. RATED ADULT!

Mason choked the engine of his chainsaw and adjusted it until it was purring. Much like Eva last night.

The vibrations of the saw ran up his arms and through his shoulders. He squinted up at the treetop, assessing it once more. Never could be too careful. Loggers died every year. Even those with a ton of experience like him had accidents.

He tried to shift his night with Eva from his mind so he could focus on bringing down this white oak. The top was heavy on the right side but he didn’t want it to fall that direction. If it did, it would take out a solid thirty-incher that could be cut in a second wave.

He wanted this particular tree to shoot the gap he’d cleared to the left, which meant some fancy saw work was needed.

The wind was nonexistent and the air still after his regular faller, Tommy Cook, had just felled a tree. Two hundred yards away, he was busy select cutting too.

Mason approached the tree and set his saw blade at an angle. The teeth cut through the thick bark and wood like a hot knife through butter. He pulled the blade back and dug in again, drawing the saw upward to cut a wedge from the trunk. Wood dust showered his arms and coated the backs of his gloves. It burned his nose and he sniffed deeply, loving the scents of the sap and the pull of exertion in his veins.

Using the point of his saw, he tapped the notch he’d cut. It dropped to the forest floor soundlessly, disappearing into the shallow drift of snow around the trunk. Circling the tree, Mason set his boots precisely, prepared to jump back in the event that the log kicked out.

Then, glancing around quickly to ensure no one was within distance of this tree, he set the blade at an angle on the backside of the cut. As the trunk was severed in two, it tipped. Cracking and popping noises sounded even through his hearing protection. He felt the smile of satisfaction spread across his face.

With a scream, the white oak plummeted, the top branches ripping through the limbs of other trees, brushing them in farewell. It slammed to earth with a resounding wallop.

A cheer went up from across the clear-cut. Mason looked up to find Tommy sending him a wave of camaraderie. He cut the power on his saw and thwacked his hands against his thigh to dislodge the sawdust from his gloves. The cracked brown leather gloves had been his father’s and one of the only things Mason had saved of the man’s personal possessions.

He’d found them on a high shelf in the entryway. Drawing them down, he’d brought them to his nose and inhaled the tang of leather and sawdust. Both scents he associated with his dad.

He set his saw on the fallen trunk and pulled off his glove. A shock tore through him as the sweet aroma of Eva’s arousal struck him. He’d spent all night loving her. Even this morning he’d fingered her to completion before allowing her to climb from his bed. Christ, he could hardly wait to get home to see if his sheets smelled of her.

He’d barely kept himself from begging her to stay longer. Returning her to Osborn’s house to pick up her little car had spurred that deep possessiveness in him again. Osborn had come outside to harass them about where they’d gone. Mason had put a stop to it, but not before Eva was as flushed as a Christmas rose.

He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. His balls clenched instantly at the scent of her he caught there. He’d promised to call her later tonight, but he felt like a goddamn teenager, dying to pick up the cell and call her now. Immediately.

What was she doing? Now that he knew she had a child to care for, he envisioned her in several different scenarios—the boy nestled on her lap as she read a story or seated on the floor building a block tower with him.

Why hadn’t he seen it before? She wore her motherhood like she displayed her femininity. She was always caring for people. Even hand-feeding Osborn a tartlet last night.

Mason wanted to jump in his truck and race to her house right now, and that scared the hell out of him. He’d never known such longing, even with his ex-wife. Eva and his ex were like heartwood and rotted wood though. One was strong and beautiful, something wood connoisseurs prized. Mason knew heartwood when he saw it.

Trouble was, he wasn’t going to stick around Salzburg Springs for long. He’d already contacted the company he’d left when his dad died a year ago and been told he always had a job with them. In fact, they wanted him as soon as possible. His roots weren’t firmly entrenched in western Pennsylvania, but they were plunging deeper after last night.

He mentally kicked himself. He never should have toyed with Eva. She deserved much more than a bachelor with a bent for rough play in bed.

Fires flared in him at the memory of her response to that heavy hand. She’d come unglued when he pinched her nipples so hard. And her skin had lifted to him when he tugged on her hair. How far could he push her?


Buy UNTOUCHED at Ellora’s Cave:

A big thanks to Raven for hosting me today. Thanks for reading!
Em Petrova
~where words mean so much more~

Thursday, 30 May 2013

Lee and his musings...and a gentleman...

It's the Breathless Press Round Robin

Breathless Press Round Robin

My Favorite Book and Three Other Random, Trivial Things You Don't Know About Lee Brazil

Good morning all! Thanks for having me on your blog Raven!  you're always welcome, you make great coffee for me. Not sure when you're reading this, but I'm writing it just as the sun goes up at six am. The windows are open and the house is quiet. Even the Great Dane is still asleep! I've got my coffee and a lovely twittering song bird chorus to keep me company, so I'd say it's all good J (Agh! Twitter! I have to go tweet after this!)

Raven's such a fabulous hostess that she told me I could talk about whatever I wanted to. As long as it's legal :) Isn't that fabulous? Threw me right back to my high school days. You know when your Language Arts teacher said "Write 500 words on the topic of your choice"?

*sips coffee*

I always hated topics like that. I'd spend six days racking my brain for a fantastically original and sure to earn an A topic and one day racing to meet the deadline by writing about the first thing that came to mind when I realized I was out of time.

My favorite book is East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I've read it more than a dozen times, for the first time in high school and most recently last year. Steinbeck is one of my heroes not for any quality or aspect of his life- but solely because of the way he could string words together and put them on a page.
Even his shortest sentences are high impact.

“All great and precious things are lonely.”


“People like you to be something, preferably what they are.” Brilliant sentences

East of Eden is a family saga that explores the very nature of good and evil and the war between the two in the guise of humanity. It's intense, heavy reading at times but it always makes me laugh, cry, and growl in frustration. It reads like truth. Steinbeck had a real handle on the way people behave and how they think and this book really showcases that.

Okay, three other things you don't know about me…

I come from a very large family and have eight siblings.

Sherlock Holmes and Edgar Alan Poe were my introduction to mystery fiction.

If I'm doing shots I like my whisky icy cold- so there's always a bottle of Johnny Walker Black in the freezer. I'm trying to persuade him to swap to Macallan...

Many thanks to Raven for having me over and letting me ramble about whatever struck my fancy…

If you've got a few minutes to spare, check out my latest release from Breathless Press,

A Gentleman Never Does

Gideon Westwood is passing time at a debutante ball when he encounters a man from his past he'd give anything to avoid.
Unfortunately for him, Gareth Belmain isn't in the mood to be pushed aside.

Contact Links Lee on FB

Lee on Twitter @leebrazil Lee Blog Pinterest You Tube

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Sunday, 26 May 2013

#sexysnippets...Embrace the pain...

Hello Sunday...

Oh my, decisions... ARGH...

Here we are, Sunday already, and I'm swithering (great word that eh?) over which book and which snippet.

As yesterday was our one day of summer here in Scotland, I decided I've give you seven outdoor sentences from Cecilia's Claim...

"Embrace the pain."

Caleb pinched the lobe of her ear. That unexpected touch 

took her mind off what Philippe was doing, and he thrust 

sharply. Before her brain processed the deep sharp sting, the

agony changed. Her body was on fire. An inferno engulfed her

as both men settled deep inside her. It was almost as if their 

cocks touched, so thin was the wall between them.


Buy links


check out all the other #sexysnippets at

Happy Reading,

Love, R x

Saturday, 25 May 2013

It's Gayls day...

I am commandeering Raven's blog today in order to celebrate the anniversary of my debut release, Ride A Cock Horse, on sale exclusively this weekend only at Breathless Press. Thank you, Raven, for hosting me! As I look back on this past year, there are a few things I learned and a few I am still working on mastering (probably shouldn't use the word 'mastering' on Raven's blog eh?) maybe not *snigger* R 

In no particular order:

1. Set realistic writing goals. One thing I struggle with is finding time, no, making time, to write. I am a single parent with a full time job and a half. I'm taking care of my parents as well as my boys. Time is a premium commodity and I am not one to put myself first. Committing to writing something every day, whether it is a few words or a few thousand, is key.

2. I write what I write. There are several writers and many genres I enjoy reading. That doesn't mean I can or should write what they write. I tried writing a paranormal. I tried writing a historical. Yeah, that didn't go so well. Since I draw from my experiences and surroundings, contemporary romance is a good fit for me. It's comfortable and effortless. My voice likes it!

3. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, become distracted by all the shininess that is the internet unless you are researching! (nuff said) Also, for me, drinking and writing should never be allowed. Now writing and driving…that's a story for another day…

4. I'm not particularly thick skinned. I should probably change that. I haven't had a horrible review but I've been dinged a time or two (maliciously but we won't go into that). Not everyone will like what you write or what you do and that's okay. As long as I am happy, the rest doesn't matter. I don't write because I want to make a million dollars (okay I do, but that isn't what drives me). Writing is my release, my cathartic weapon of choice. I love it, I can't stop doing it even if what I write never makes it to "print".

5. Be prepared to self-promote. Another thing I seriously lack (and I blame the lack of hours in a day for this). I am terrible at marketing and promotion. Probably another reason why I will never earn that first million. However, it takes only one person telling me they enjoyed what I wrote to make me smile.

6. I am a procrastinator. I need a task list. And then I need to follow it as best as possible. (see #3 above). Clearly this is a particular weakness of mine (just ask Raven when she got this post from me 0.o)

7. Branding. Still working on this one but at least I have some ideas on this. Author, know thyself.

8. Chocolate makes everything better. Chocolate covered strawberries especially. With champagne.

9. I do not write porn. Erotic romance is not porn. What I write is romance with a sensual and erotic flavor. I write about love, every aspect of it. I am not afraid to open the door and let you watch. My characters are not perfect - in fact, they are flawed and very human. Unless they actually aren't human but that isn't what I write ;)

10. Get outside once in a while. The other day, I was taking out the trash and it was such a lovely day, I sat down and just breathed. Sometimes I forget to do that.

Musician Hunter Blake returns to Banbury Cross to win back his true love, Kate. Will they find a way to make beautiful music again?

Not even a cock horse could bring musician Hunter Blake back to Banbury Cross, yet here he stood, ten years after leaving, to make amends for his past behavior and win back his true love, Katherine Banbury. Their relationship was in perfect harmony until Hunter's excessive drinking tore them apart. Now sober, he's focused on doing whatever it takes to prove he's worthy of her love.

Kate spent the last ten years determined to forget Hunter. With a developer intent on turning her ancestral home into tract housing, Kate had her hands full. When Hunter returns, vivid memories of their passionate history stoke the flames of desire between them. Will Kate fight the attraction or will she open her heart to love once more?

On Sale Exclusively at Breathless Press

Also Available at the following

When I am not knee-deep in writing, I can be found at the following places ~