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Naughty and Nice Book Signing
Tuesday, November 29th, 2011

Just a reminder that I’ll be signing books along with authors Shayla Black, Kim Killion and Anna Marie McKenna this Saturday, December 3, from 7-10 pm at Rose’s Bookhouse in the St. Louis area. Tickets for this fun-filled, Ladies Night Out event were going fast, so if you’re interested, the details can be found here!

Total Exposure Interview, Silken Rapture, Exclusive Excerpt
Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011

Hi all. At my yahoo reader group, Total Exposure, Fiona Jayde, Lacey Savage and I try to give each other interviews on our release dates. It’s a nice tradition, and so I’m sharing Fiona’s questions and my answers here about the series.

FJ: First – huge congratulations on your new release of Silken Rapture. I love the lush imagery of the titles in this series – Velvet Cataclysm, Silken Rapture.… so sensual! Is it difficult to come up with titles fitting this theme? What’s the next title going to be?

BK: Thanks, Fi. Total Exposure helped me with the title for the second one. So nice to have a group of book-loving women out there ready to chip in on ideas.

In the titles, I am going for a reference to a sensuality that borders on decadence. Since this race of men are so keyed in to the senses and sexuality, it’s a temptation to fall over into a depraved, selfish side versus walking the thin line and suffering. One clone is destined to never challenge their parasitic nature, while the hero walks the line, and eventually learns how to control his carnal, aggressive side through love.

FJ: Tell us a little more about the underground world that is so lush and sensual and dangerous.

BK: I have a real yen for urban undergrounds. Love to go and explore them. For Silken Rapture, I chose London, one of my favorite cities in the world. I came across a couple references in my research of underground London that really stuck for me–one a probable urban legend about the (now closed) British Museum Tube stop being haunted by a wandering Egyptian. The legend went that during the WW II bombing raids, many of the precious Egyptian artifacts were stored in the Underground and someone jostled open a sacred seal, liberating a ghost. :) Anyone who reads the story will see the reference to my ghost/demon, Shirian, who communes with both anti-heroes, Morshiel and (my favorite) Aubrey Cane.

Another reference is to the thousands of bodies that were buried in mass graves beneath Aldgate Tube Station during the Bubonic Plague of 1660. From that reference, I created a group of men that follow my hero–the Literati–who were once a loose group of intellectuals and scholars at Oxford, and fled London and further north to avoid the plague. They eventually ran into the Scottish nobleman, Blaise Sevliss (Lord Delraven) and were ‘turned’ by Blaise in order to survive. They lived on as his loyal, internal circle of warriors, fighting Morshiel and the Scourge revenants.

Blaise has this underground Earth-scraper–yes, an inverted high-rise that goes straight down into the ground. (I blogged about this inverted pyramid, because my editor sent me a note saying they’d just approved plans similar to what I described in the book in Mexico City. That was flattering, since I–and most of the world–had never heard of it until recently. However, on the downside, Blaise’s earth-scraper is named Sanctuary. I never realized there was a show called Sanctuary until after I’d turned in the book. So, it’s not always good to have an idea before it’s time. :))

Morshiel–Blaise’s depraved clone–sort of lives like the Rat King with his followers in the underground of London. The clones have this tendency to be sort of gypsies, wandering around the tunnels with all this rich stuff, not liking to live above ground because it takes them away from the earth’s enriching soul. Blaise and the Literati constantly hunt them and try to control the growing pestilence of them.

FJ: In both books in the series, each hero has an evil clone – a dark mirror of himself. Do you love exploring your villain’s psyches as much as your heroes? Since it sounds like the clone put the “B” in Bad Guy (love that!) – do you sometimes scare yourself with the darkness you draw out into him? Do you ever go – “huh, where did THAT come from?” – when writing a dark villain?

BK: I remember I sort of shocked myself with Teslar’s anti-social, murderous, utterly selfish nature. (Teslar was Saint’s clone in Velvet Cataclysm). Teslar was a ‘fear-eater’, meaning he liked to evoke fear in his victims in order to get the energy and flavor of fear in the sexual secretions, tears and blood. The way he’d go about it was beyond sick.

Morshiel, Blaise’s clone, is a really, really bad guy, but he’s more lazy than Teslar. He probably would never work as hard as Teslar did to create fear. I balanced Morshiel’s more lackadaisical evil-side with another anti-hero, Aubrey Cane, who possesses one of the most brilliant minds on the planet. Aubrey’s double dealing added a subtle, elegant, and viperish quality to the bad guy element in Silken Rapture. Aubrey was really fun to write.

FJ: If I remember correctly, the only other paranormal series you wrote was the Subtle series. How does it feel to descend back into world building and other fun things that you only get in a paranormal/urban fantasy genre?

BK: It’s kind of hard to switch gears. However, I am finding as I write contemporary series and paranormal that there are a lot of similarities, though. Meaning, you have to go back and ‘discover’ things about your world and characters from your past text. The published text becomes a bible for the series, and it’s surprising, sometimes, how many seeds are there without your knowledge for future books.

FJ: So what’s up with Isabel’s “soul energy” and why does everyone want it? This is called “vitesse” in your world?

BK: Yes, she’s a rare woman who possesses unusual amounts of vitessence–the energy that all human beings possess, the life-force, so to speak. You can think of vittessence like soul-energy, but Blaise and his kind see it like an aura. It gives her psychic powers, but Isabel also has an unusual gift–she’s a psychometrist. Anything she touches that was once living, or touched humans during a particularly emotional moment, she can glean all sorts of information about. It’s truly one of those things that’s a gift and a curse. It can be hell for her to touch others, so before she meets Blaise, she’s sort of resigned herself to a life of loneliness. They have that in common, Blaise and Isabel. They believe their doomed to live solitary lives, but their desire for each other can’t be stifled.

FJ: Blaise sounds like an angst ridden tortured hero (love that!). Tell us more about those two fascinating characters?

BK: Blaise despises being a parasite of humans. He has no soul, so he must ingest vitessence in the blood, sexual secretions, sweat and tears of humans–anything where emotions run rich. Blaise is tortured for another reason, though. Centuries ago, he saved an Italian princess from Spanish agents, and the two fell in love. However, when Elysse understood what Blaise was, it ruined her. She ended up killing herself. So, he’s pretty convinced he’s death to everything beautiful. When he meets Isabel, she shines in his eyes unlike any other. He can’t resist her, but he constantly feels as if he has to protect her from the horror of what he is.

FJ: I couldn’t help but notice that we have Saint Sevliss and Blaise Sevliss…. Are they brothers?

Not genetically, no. The word ‘sevliss’ means souless, and relates to why these unusual men are here on this planet. Many would call them vampire or shape-shifter, but the Sevliss are actually more than that. They’ve been put here for a specific purpose. Sevliss is Greek, actually. (Do we have any Greek-speakers here?) It means soulless.

What can we look forward to next from you – both in this series and overall?

There are six Sevliss princes, and I’d love to do a story for each of them, time and energy willing. :)

Next year I have a lot coming out, starting with the third book in the Home to Harbor Town series, Claiming Colleen in March 2012. In May, my mass market of Wicked Burn releases. Summer of 2012, Bound to You (tentatively titled) a novella from the One Night of Passion world comes out from Berkley. In August, I have The Billionaire’s Reluctant Heiress from HQ. October brings the second novella from the One Night of Passion series, Book 5 (Untitled) in my Home to Harbor Town series, and SILKEN RAPTURE in print. In November, Everett’s story–tentatively titled Exposed by You–will debut in the One Night of Passion series by Bethany Kane.

FJ: How about a TE exclusive excerpt?

BK: Sure! Here you go. The set up: Blaise and the Literati have just completed a surprise attack on Morshiel in the underground. In doing so, they discover Isabel, who had been kidnapped by Morshiel and forced to touch a mysterious, powerful crystal and channel its power. They stare at the unusual, compelling sight of her.

Excerpt:

“Who…what is she?” Aubrey asked.

“I don’t know. But whatever she is, Morshiel wants her. So that means I’m taking her.”

Aubrey nodded. Blaise had stated the obvious. They would never consider leaving such a powerful creature in Morshiel’s hands.

“The amount of vitessence coming off her and that crystal,” Aubrey mumbled. His gray eyes narrowed and glazed as he stared. “It’s not possible.”

They both approached the light-infused woman. For the first time, Blaise noticed she wore one long black glove on the arm that hung at her side. He bent to pick up its mate which had been discarded on the concrete platform. He gripped the cheap, synthetic fabric convulsively. His nostrils flared.

Her scent filled him.

She was so illuminated he had a strange feeling that if he removed the purple evening dress she wore, he’d be able to see inside her, see her very heart beating out a rapid, desperate tattoo. His own heart felt as if someone had just reached into his chest and squeezed it without mercy.

“The connection is hurting her.” He reached to detach her from the crystal, but Aubrey stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

“No. I don’t believe the soulless can touch her without harm.”

Blaise understood. If they were the soulless, this woman was the very essence of a rarified soul. Differences repelled. His heart throbbed in pain. He threw his friend’s hand off his forearm. His eyes sprang wide when he grasped her wrist. He had the disoriented thought that the crystal was an electrical conduit, for an enormous shock went through him. The woman’s back arched and she screamed.

For the eternal second before he broke the conduit, a rapture filled him unlike anything he’d ever known. It was as if her very soul slammed into his consciousness in one powerful pulse of energy.

He blinked. The woman fell limply into his arms, unconscious. He checked her pulse, exhaling in relief when he felt her rapid but strong heartbeat.

She will never be able to leave Sanctuary, he thought numbly as he lifted her limp form. Her days of freedom had come to an end the second Morshiel had learned of her existence. From now until the end of her days, this woman would either be hunted or captured. Better that he—Blaise—was the one to hold her captive.

He moved his hand subtly on her hip. The dress she wore wasn’t expensive. As the owner of the largest silk factory in Europe, Blaise knew fabrics. He knew the sensation of vitessence better. The dress might be cheap, but that couldn’t begin to disguise the purity and strength of the woman’s soul-energy.

Michael Lord, one of the Literati, approached, buttoning up the jeans he’d dropped on the platform before he’d transformed. He paused a few feet away, staring at the woman in his arms in opened-mouthed awe.

“No, don’t—” Blaise uttered harshly, but too late. Michael strode forward and placed his hand on the woman’s upper arm.

He flinched back in pain.

Aubrey grabbed Michael’s hand and examined the reddening palm, looking alarmed and interested at once. Fear could never completely diminish Aubrey’s vast scientific curiosity. Blaise craned to see what Aubrey examined.

A small blister broke the surface of Michael’s palm. Michael appeared to be in no great pain or distress, merely confused about what had just happened.

“He’ll be all right,” Aubrey declared, releasing Michael’s hand. “It’s a small burn, almost as if the woman was radioactive to him. The burn is already healing, given Michael’s nature,” Aubrey said, referring to Michael’s status as one of the Literati. Near immortality and the ability to heal rapidly were only two of the Literati’s inhuman powers. The humans Morshiel embraced might transform into bloodthirsty, foul Scourge revenants. On the rare occasions throughout the centuries when Blaise had embraced a human, however, the man retained the nobility of his human spirit and gained the savage grace of the wolf.

“Why did you do that?” Blaise growled at Michael. “She might have destroyed you.”

Michael flushed and looked downward, showing him only the crown of his chestnut brown hair.

“Don’t blame him too harshly,” Aubrey said. “He did what any of us would do. She beckons like a magnet to Literati blood. She’s like a fountain of vitessence that would never run dry.”

Blaise’s nostrils flared in anger when he noticed Aubrey’s hungry stare on the female. Maybe Michael’s impulsiveness wasn’t for naught. Better the Literati knew the truth. Nature had given the woman some form of protection from immortal hunger.

“Do you think she can harm the Literati from a distance?” he asked Aubrey.

Aubrey shook his head. “No, you shouldn’t take my analogy of radioactivity too far. Only touching her will cause cellular damage at the site of contact,” his gaze flickered curiously over Blaise’s hands cupping the woman’s hip and waist, “at least for most of us.”

A strange sense of satisfaction tore through Blaise, twining with his bewilderment over the fact that he could touch the woman. He was as soulless as the Literati, whom he had turned immortal to save from the ravages of the bubonic plague. He was as soulless as the revenants Morshiel daily created through murder by excessive blood drinking. He was as damned as Morshiel himself.

But he could touch her.

“Spread the word among the Literati that it is forbidden to touch her.” Aubrey nodded. “Find out who she is,” Blaise told Michael. “The more information we have, the better. Morshiel won’t rest until he has her once again.” Michael nodded, seeming relieved that Blaise was willing to move past his earlier impulsiveness. Blaise glanced at Aubrey. “Send out a scouting party to see if they can catch Morshiel’s scent. Bring the crystal to Sanctuary. Protect it, Aubrey,” he added under his breath. “It provides more vitessence than blood. It won’t take Morshiel long to recover from his wound and decide to reclaim it.”

“And the woman?” Aubrey asked.

“She has my protection.”

Aubrey nodded. Michael gave the woman one last glance of incredulous longing before he stared once again at his reddened palm.

“Fool,” Blaise muttered under his breath.

He walked down the platform toward the dark tunnel in the distance, refusing to look into his captive’s face. If he did, he’d turn into as much a fool as Michael.

If he did, he might never look away.

Silken Rapture, Available Now at Samhain Publishing, Kindle, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, All Romance E-books.

FJ: Now that the holidays are around the corner, tell us a little bit about any family traditions you have:) Will you be cooking up a storm tomorrow? Do you decorate your house? Will you brave the crowds on black friday?

BK: I’m going to my parents downstate tomorrow, so relatively little cooking for me, which is both bad and good. I do like to cook. I definitely will be decorating for Christmas–probably next week. And no–I avoid Black Friday crowds like the plague. I might be checking out some Black Friday specials online, though.

What about you all

Thanks for the interview, Fi!

Silken Rapture: Kindle Touch 3-G Winner is
Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

The random number generator chose: Tracey D!

Yay, Tracey! Write to me at bethkery@aol.com in order to claim your prize.

Wow, that was fun! We’ve successfully launched another book. :) I hope you all discovered some new authors and had some fun. I certainly did. Thanks for helping me celebrate the release of Silken Rapture!

~Beth

Silken Rapture Releases Today!
Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

It’s finally here, Silken Rapture’s Release Day! Hooray! I really appreciate everyone who has taken part in the Silken Rapture Contest–all the authors, all the readers and commenters. It’s been a lot of fun. Don’t forget–the Kindle 3-G Touch will be given away tomorrow. Even if you have your own, it’d make a great holiday gift for someone you love, right?

Hugs to all!

~Beth

He is her captor…
She is his soul…

When Blaise Sevliss, Lord Delraven, rescues a young woman from the clutches of his vampiritic clone the sheer amount of soul energy blazing from her unconscious body stuns him…and awakens a primal, parasitic hunger he has fought for centuries to quell.

Determined to keep her safe from the ravenous Scourge horde, Blaise must hide her in his underground stronghold. Where the powerful urge to consume her gnaws at the last shreds of his control.

With a touch, Isabel Lanscourt can divine the darkest of secrets. Her ability is little help, though, when she awakens in a lush world where sensuality rules. Her shining spirit is a beacon to all the powerful immortals in Sanctuary, but only one can touch her. The enigmatic Lord Delraven, whose brusque coldness is belied by the heated need in his eyes.

In a dangerous zone between temptation and memory, desire ignites an explosion of luminescent beauty. And Isabel’s healing touch begins to fill his emptiness with an impossible gift: a soul. But Blaise holds a dangerous secret, one that could extinguish Isabel’s inner light. And cast his lonely world into eternal darkness.

Warning: Step into a sensual world of vampires who love to feed and love to…er…feast, where sexual variety is the spice of their lives. No sweetness and light here, this is one vampire who can put the “B” into “bad guy” without batting an eye.

Excerpt: Silken Rapture

Her hand shook slightly when she extended it toward the handle on an adjoining door. The door swung open with a low-pitched whine.

He lay on the bed, naked save for a leather harness of sorts that looped around his hips and thighs. It left his genitals fully exposed.

For a full ten seconds, both of them remained unmoving.

He made a sound—a small noise like a choking, hoarse gasp. She glanced rapidly from his erect cock to his face. His unusual dark green eyes seemed to smolder more than the burning embers in the study fire. When she saw the sweat that glazed his long, muscled body and the strange, desperate expression on his bold features, she raced into the room. It suddenly struck her that every fiber of his flesh was straining to move, but couldn’t.

“You’re ill,” she said, her gaze flickering around the room. Do creatures such as he become ill? The question came automatically into her brain, but she quickly dismissed it in the face of the obvious. Blaise Sevliss was sick, in pain, or both.

“Tell me what to do,” she insisted.

Anxiety grew in her when she saw him strain to speak, but his lips didn’t even part. His eyes flickered over to a credenza next to the door where a pitcher and glasses rested. Isabel hurried over to the table where she poured a tall glass of cool water.

“Let me hold up your head,” she said quietly when she approached him again and saw that even more sweat had beaded on his brow. He obviously was trying to raise himself and was weakened even by that effort.

She sat on the corner of the bed, her knee bent close to his shoulder, and lifted his head. He drained the water more rapidly than she would have expected, given his nearly paralyzed state. When he was done, he looked up at her. The message in his eyes was like a complicated, coded language. It bewildered and scared her, but she didn’t move away from him. She glanced down at her gloved hand. His wavy, thick hair gleamed next to the black velvet, more lustrous by far than the inexpensive fabric of the glove.

She wanted to feel it twining through her fingers. It shocked her, this sudden desire. She’d recoiled at the thought of touching another being for so long now.

She tried not to recall the vision of his beautifully shaped, erect phallus highlighted by snug straps of leather. How could he be so ill and debilitated when his cock was so hard?

For a stretched moment, they just stared at one another. She felt strange— torpid and warm, and yet energized and prickly as well, as though the nerves were singing out a plea to be touched. After a moment, she forced herself to inhale. The desperation she’d seen in his rigid face was fading, slowly being replaced by a stony, fierce expression.

“Are you better now?” she asked as she turned to set the glass on a bedside table. When he didn’t speak, she tried to gather herself. What was it that she was doing here? Why had she come? It was so difficult to think, when her vision was so full of him, when he crowded her senses and flooded her brain. It felt a like a sensual assault.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

“I-I had to. I needed to speak with you. You must let me go.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” he repeated. Her forehead crinkled in confusion when she heard the bleakness of his tone.

Suddenly, without her knowing how it had happened, she lay on the bed, her head on the pillow where his had just been. He leaned down over her, his large hands holding her shoulders. She saw that his incisors had lengthened. For some reason, she wanted to weep when she saw the wild desperation on his rigid features.

Such a living portrait of pain.

He leaned down and sank his teeth into her neck.

She wanted to scream, whether in fear or shock or ecstasy, she didn’t know. There was pain, but a distilled, voluptuous bliss twined through it, leaving her immobilized. Her eyes opened wide, as though she were being shown the secrets of the universe and couldn’t quite comprehend the miracle of the vision.

A tension swelled in her sex. It hurt where his teeth pierced her neck, but his lips moved around the puncture wounds, the movement striking her as decadently erotic. She felt the heat of his mouth penetrate her. Somehow, the sharp pain he wrought mingled with nerve and flesh until it transformed into a potent, sharp need for release.

She struggled weakly against him, not because she wanted this bizarre, electrical experience to stop—no, she would have begged him to continue—but distantly, she was mortified that she was about to climax explosively beneath a stranger…

…her captor.

Silken Rapture, Princes of the Underground 2, Available Now
Order from Samhain | Kindle | Barnes and Noble

The Winner of Lillian’ Feisty’s Contest Is
Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

Elaine! Congrats, Elaine! Write to me at bethkrey@aol.com to claim your prize!

Huge Welcome to Lillian Feisty and a Giveaway!
Monday, November 21st, 2011

I hope you all will join me in giving a big, warm welcome to author Lilli Feisty. I was very moved by her heartfelt post, and think you will be too. We’re all a community here, too, so give Lilli a big shout out and supportive cyber hug today.

Oh, and Lilli–I’d be one of the people to be just as excited as you are when you say, “Reno!”

Community!

First off, thanks for having me on your blog. Second off, I have a hard time writing blogs that are short. So hopefully, dear readers, you can stay with me and I hope you like my little blog on my experience of living in Reno during the recent months. ?

Okay, so I am in Reno. Reno is fantastic town. We have lots of things. Whenever people ask me, “where are you from?” I answer, “Reno!” because that is where I live and I like it. People are always surprised. Like, they give me this shocked look. I understand that look. Before I moved to Reno I would give people the same look: like, why the fuck do you live in Reno? It’s in the middle of the desert, it has no culture, it’s full of casinos and it’s full of tourists walking around in a drunken stupor, smoking cigarettes and clutching oversized plastic cups of booze as they stumble between slot machines.

Well, that’s all kind of true. But the high desert is beautiful. And I can be at Lake Tahoe within thirty minutes. Or hiking near the Yuba River. Or visiting the Nevada Museum of art or any of the number of wonderful galleries or art showings.

See, we have culture. You have to do dig deep. Reno has a deeply ingrained culture born from a strong sense of community. And even if you’re not looking for it, it will find you.

Why am I writing this blog post? Well, recently we had a huge fire. In fact, it started three days ago about midnight. It burned thirty homes and damaged forty-two others. The voluntary evacuee line was really close to my house. Despite the 50 mps winds blowing straight my way, I knew I’d be fine. Despite horrible conditions, our response teams had already done an amazing job containing the fire. Still, thousands were displaced, many lost their homes, and the whole city felt it in their own way. And everyone wanted to help however humanitarian means they can contribute.

On Friday the smoke was blowing straight into my ‘hood and I have a hard time breathing in a lot of smoke due to an annoying case of asthma. So I did what any girl would. I grabbed my bottle of vodka, went to up my girlfriend’s house, and we proceeded to get drunk. She graciously let me stay up their all weekend. Safe, thankful and ready to take in any strays, we watched the news and kept updated on anyone who needed anything. We stand together. We stay near family. We help. We build and rebuild things. In Reno, that’s what we do.

This fire is following the recent fatal crashes during the world-famous famous Reno Air Races, an Amtrak crash, multiple shootings during Street Vibrations (a hugely popular motorcycle event), my neighbor got stabbed while working at a local nightclub; lately, this town has seen some shit.

And yet we still love it here. We love it here. Because this is a city but we pull together like small town. I’ve seen it over and over.

When the fires started, small businesses began announcing they were giving out free meals and coffee. Casinos offered free rooms to those displaced due to being evacuated—and they allowed pets. On Facebook, locals posted that they were willing to help people move out of their homes and offered a place to stay. My friend’s tattoo shop also offered shelter and assistance. That’s how we roll here. Reno is a city with a phenomenal community.

(Interesting fact: How did I find out about the fires? This guy I’m seeing is working in New York and woke me up with a text asking if I could go check on his dog. I was like, what fires? Fire? Then I realized the fires were a lot closer to ME than his dog. He never did ask how I was. But I’m not bitter.)

Why am I writing a blog about Reno? Because I strongly believe in community. I think that, no matter where anyone lives, it’s the community that is the heart of any location. Community creates culture, art, home and heart.

So I’m writing this right now because everything this town has experienced during this past year has made me believe that people are good. This entire country is living in some hard times. But I truly believe we have a unique opportunity to use our experiences, how trying they may be, to stand strong and help each other.

Big city or small, we all live in communities. I’ve lived in a lot of places. My upcoming release from Grand Central Publishing, Deliciously Sinful, takes place in a small town in northern California. It’s based on my own experiences living in small towns. It’s a love story that centers around a community. Small towns, big towns-whatever. I believe in community. Community is what will, in the grand scope of things, keep us going.

I write about love. I believe community is love, it promotes love. What do you think

Find out more about Lilli here.
Purchase Deliciously Sinful here.

Comment on Lilli’s post to qualify to win a $5 Amazon gift card tomorrow morning PLUS, winner’s choice of either The Whore or Sting of Desire by Lillian Feisty! And be sure you’re entered for the Kindle Touch 3-G, because it’s being given away this Wednesday! Enter here.

Silken Rapture Excerpt
Saturday, November 19th, 2011

He is her captor…
She is his soul…

When Blaise Sevliss, Lord Delraven, rescues a young woman from the clutches of his vampiritic clone the sheer amount of soul energy blazing from her unconscious body stuns him…and awakens a primal, parasitic hunger he has fought for centuries to quell.

Determined to keep her safe from the ravenous Scourge horde, Blaise must hide her in his underground stronghold. Where the powerful urge to consume her gnaws at the last shreds of his control.

With a touch, Isabel Lanscourt can divine the darkest of secrets. Her ability is little help, though, when she awakens in a lush world where sensuality rules. Her shining spirit is a beacon to all the powerful immortals in Sanctuary, but only one can touch her. The enigmatic Lord Delraven, whose brusque coldness is belied by the heated need in his eyes.

In a dangerous zone between temptation and memory, desire ignites an explosion of luminescent beauty. And Isabel’s healing touch begins to fill his emptiness with an impossible gift: a soul. But Blaise holds a dangerous secret, one that could extinguish Isabel’s inner light. And cast his lonely world into eternal darkness.

Read an Excerpt

“It’s very heavy for a dress, isn’t it?” Isabel asked.

“For a dress, yes,” he murmured. “But this isn’t for a dress. It’s for a royal
marriage.” Her hands tingled in the gloves, as though his stroking fingers gave off a charge and it came to her through the conduit of the lush fabric.

“Silk is a good generator of electricity,” he said.

She glanced up, cautious this time, but unable to resist looking into his face. Had he read her thoughts? His small smile seemed to indicate he had. She glanced away uneasily.

“If the fabric isn’t for a dress, what is it for?”

“It is for the royal bed. This will be made into sheets, Isabel.”

The fabric fell through her fingers heedlessly at the sound of him saying her name in his hoarse, accented voice. It had struck a chord of memory in her. She searched wildly to retrieve the memory, but the ephemeral threads had disappeared. For a moment, her lungs seemed collapsed, unable to fill with air.

She abruptly turned away from him, overwhelmed by longing.

“What are you carrying?” he asked from behind her as she walked toward the hearth.

She glanced around, her brow furrowed in confusion. She blinked in shock when she saw he stood just feet away. He’d come to her with paranormal quickness. What was he talking about? She noticed he looked at her hand. She clutched at the rolled-up script. Remembering why she’d sought him out gave her a renewed sense of purpose, flimsy though her excuse for seeing him was.

“I’ve come to ask you to be in the play.”

“I am no actor.”

“None of the Literati are, except for Titurino, who tells me he used to tread
the boards in Rome long ago, to make money for his paints,” she said with a smile. She sobered when she noticed his fire-lit eyes. He was dressed as casually as she, in jeans and a simple gray T-shirt, but he looked elegant somehow…a noble savage.

“Thank you, for sponsoring the play for my benefit. I haven’t had a chance to tell you.”

“I thought it would please you, and help to occupy your time. When you are ready, say the word and I will bring you an audience, as well. You may choose whoever you’d like to attend.”

“Lester Dee?” she asked smoothly, referring to the professor who had brought her to England

He kept his face impassive. “If that is your wish. We can come to terms on the matter.”

She smiled. “The Queen?”

“That one I can answer for more confidently. Consider it done.”

She shook her head slowly. “The funny thing is, I believe you. I would
believe anything of you, at this point.”

Beth KerySteam for the Sophisticated Reader
Silken Rapture, November 22, 2011

Pre-Order Silken Rapture: Samhain| Amazon| Barnes and Noble

The Winner of Jodi Redford’s Contest is
Saturday, November 19th, 2011

Renee Bennett! Congratulations, Renee. Contact me at bethkery@aol.com and I will forward your information on to Jodi, who will send the prize.

Huge thanks to Jodi and all the participants!

Up next, another sneak peek at Silken Rapture. Remember, the Kindle winner will be announced November 23, and there’s still a chance to win, www.bethkery.com/blog

Jodi Redford guests and a giveaway of The Naughty List
Friday, November 18th, 2011

Please join me in welcoming Jodi Redford to the Silken Rapture Contest. Jodi is here to talk about her latest, The Naughty List, and to give away a copy. And if you have not yet entered for the Kindle Touch 3-G, do so here!

Welcome Jodi!

Thanks for having me on your blog, Beth, and congrats on the upcoming release of Silken Rapture!

In just a little over a week, my newest book, The Naughty List, will be releasing, so I thought I’d talk a little bit today about one of my favorite types of stories—friends to lovers. I’ve used this trope in some of my past books, but never as a ménage element. When the characters of Lacey, Ry and Bram came to me, though, I knew right away that these three friends were an inseparable package. In other words, neither one of them would be completely whole without each other in their lives.

I’ll admit that sometimes I’m a hard sell on committed HEAs in a ménage, particularly if the two men aren’t sexin’ it up with each other too. I think that’s mostly because I don’t personally know any men who’d willingly share their woman with another. For me, when I sit down and write a ménage where the trio is going to share in an HEA, the focus is on making it believable. In the case of Ry and Bram, they both have a deep, abiding love for Lacey that outweighs all else. Simply put—they would rather share their love for her than lose her completely. When I started to see the reality of that through their eyes, the dynamics of their threesome not only made sense, it was the only way I envisioned a happy ending for these three characters.

So here’s my burning question for everyone in respect to ménage romances: do you prefer a committed threesome, or do you think that more than two people in a relationship isn’t believable? Leave your answer in the comments for a shot at winning an ARC of The Naughty List!

Makin’ a list, and rocking it…twice.

Perpetual good girl Lacey McGuire has two Christmas wish lists. One suitable for public consumption…and a private one that’s too hot to handle. Right at the top: wild, wicked fantasies about her best buddies and business partners Ryan Hollister and Bram Colton.

Besides the fact they’re both poster boys for Hunks ’R’ Us, they’ve been there for her through thick, thin and the heartbreak of a cheating fiancé. So what if her boys will never know they star in her sexiest daydreams? In her fantasy world, her heart will never get trampled again.

Ry and Bram are pretty sure Lacey never meant to email a list of some of her raunchiest wants. Particularly the one that tightens their shorts—she wants a threesome. With them. Although they’ve loved her for years, they made a pact to keep Lacey off limits in order to protect their friendship. Now all bets are off. And the quest to give her all she wants—and more—is on.

Warning: This book contains a wickedly hot M/F/M ménage that will heat up the holidays. Friends steaming things up in a hot tub. Bondage and blindfolds. Sexy shenanigans at a Christmas tree lot. And maybe even a glimpse of Santa…in a Speedo.

Excerpt

Bending, Bram slid his mouth over hers. The contrast of his warm lips and breath against her colder flesh was startling. His heat managed to kindle her body in more ways than one. By the time he broke the kiss, her inner temperature had skyrocketed by at least one hundred degrees. They pulled apart and she peeked sideways. Ry was staring at them, his eyes dark and intense. There was no mistaking the obvious bulge tenting the fly of his jeans.

Wow, did watching her and Bram kissing turn him on? The notion was both odd and arousing. Ry had such a strong possessive streak. She could only guess that he tended to be just as territorial when it came to his women.

Mulling back over that last thought, she realized where her misassumption lay. She wasn’t Ry’s woman. Why would he care who kissed her? Furthermore, of course he’d be aroused witnessing the kiss between her and Bram. For Pete’s sake, the two men intended to do a hell of a lot more than that with her together.

The reminder brought her jittery nerves back to the forefront. If she were to be completely honest with herself, what terrified her most was the possibility of being a huge disappointment to Ry and Bram. Smothering her sigh, she knelt and unzipped her boots before tugging them off. She couldn’t help being grateful for the radiant heating Bram had installed with his parquet floors. Her toes curling in appreciation of the cozy warmth, she straightened and hugged her chest.

“How about a glass of wine?” Bram offered, heading toward the kitchen. “I just opened a bottle.”

A fifth of tequila was more in order, but she kept the thought to herself. She didn’t want them to assume she needed to get snockered in order to go through with this. Even though she probably did.

Ry’s palm rubbed her tensed back, and she looked up at him. With his free arm, he gestured toward Bram, indicating that they should follow him.

Good idea. Standing all night in the entry clearly wouldn’t get them anywhere fast. Feeling like a doofus, she allowed Ry to lead her into the kitchen. While Bram grabbed a pair of crystal stemware from the rack and a cold beer from the fridge for Ry, she scooted onto one of the leather-capped barstools fronting the center island. She’d sat on this very seat numerous times, but she’d never once experienced the level of stomach-churning anxiety that she did now.

Where was the sexy Lacey from her fantasies? Figures the damn wench would abandon her in her time of need.

Bram settled her wineglass in front of her, and she picked it up to take a fortifying sip. A warm, mellow glow spread through her as the Shiraz settled in her belly. The aroma of garlic and red chilies carried from a pan sizzling on the stove. She licked her lips. “Is that Kevin’s Penne Arrabiata?”

“Yep. I’m just reheating it a bit. It’ll be ready in a sec.”

Both Bram and Ry knew the dish was her absolute favorite. It was just one of the countless insider scoops they had on her. Knowing they’d deliberately chosen her most beloved comfort food settled her nerves and her stomach. These two men practically knew her better than she knew herself. They’d been there for her through some of the toughest times in her life. If there was anyone she trusted to embark on a sexual discovery with, it was them.

This would work. She’d make damn sure of it. Gulping another sip of wine, she silently armored her determination. Her fingers no longer displaying the trembling she’d suffered moments ago, she pushed the glass closer to the middle of the island and turned toward Ry. He smiled at her in the adorable way that always made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Leaning forward, she crushed her mouth over his, earning his harsh intake of breath. His surprise didn’t last long though. Groaning, he tangled a hand in her hair, slanting her head as his tongue delved past her lips.

He kissed her like he was giving a demonstration of how he intended to make love to her—hot, deep and consuming. His other hand moved to her breast and caressed it through her clothing. A frustrated growl rumbled from him, and he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it upward. He broke their kiss and guided her arms over her head. She realized what he intended to do. Rather than protest, she allowed him to remove her sweater and toss it on the stool behind him.

His gaze raked her torso, lingering on the plumped cleavage peeking above the silk cups of her pink demi bra. Without saying a word, he unhooked the front closure. The weight of her breasts pushed the bra open slightly. Running his fingers beneath the straps, Ry eased them down her shoulders, forcing the garment to separate from her flesh in agonizingly slow increments. His Adam’s apple bobbed, a sure sign that his lazy, tormenting movements affected him just as much as her. The edges of the silk caught on her nipples, the teasing rasp springing a moan past her lips.

Finally the fabric released her from its taunting hold, completely baring her to Ry’s heated gaze. “Christ, you’re fucking beautiful.”

A soft scuff sounded to the left, and she turned her head to see Bram standing beside her. She’d been so ensnared in Ry’s focus she hadn’t heard Bram approach until then. Like Ry, he was staring at her with a dark, ravenous hunger. “He’s right, Lace. Your breasts are gorgeous. Absolutely perfect.”

She’d always worried they were too big, especially in the sense that they’d sag and not exactly be perky the older she got. But judging from Bram’s and Ry’s enamored expressions, saggy boobs were the last concern on their minds. As if to verify her assumption, Ry cupped her breast, her flesh overflowing his palm. His thumb flicked over her puckered nipple, and she gasped, a pleasurable shiver coursing along her spine. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look dark and sexy as sin. Massaging her breast, he leaned down and traced her areola with the tip of his tongue before kissing the pebbled nub. Her breath hitched and her head fell back, her eyes sliding shut. They flew open a second later when Bram’s mouth closed around her other nipple.

They were both licking and sucking her breasts. Oh God. She’d fantasized about this very thing thousands of times yet nothing could compare to the mind-blowing reality of it.

Buy links: Samhain Amazon Barnes and Noble

Where you can find Jodi: Website Twitter Facebook

The Winner of Missy Jane’s prize is
Friday, November 18th, 2011

Diane Sadler! Diane, write to me at bethkery@aol.com to claim your prize. Please send your address, as well.

Thanks to all the participants and Missy for joining the Silken Rapture Contest.

Up next, Jodi Redford and a giveaway of The Naughty List!



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