Sunday, December 17, 2006

Laura Baumbach's Flight of the Sparrows

Laura Baumbach's Flight of the Sparrows has gathered some good reviews. You can buy it at Aspen Mountain Press.


Laura's a good story teller, no matter what the genre.

Here's an excerpt:

Jameison pulled the collar of his overcoat up higher against the drizzle and stared at Crowe's hardened face, deciding on the value of debating the issue any further. There was something about the man that reminded Jameison of a coiled snake just waiting for the opportunity to strike its next victim. Crowe's reputation for violence accompanied by a high body count was well known. However guilty of hacking into MI5 as these boys might be, Jameison didn't think they deserved to suffer the kind of abuse Crowe was reputed to dish out to his prisoners.

His conscience got the better of his judgement. Jameison reached out to take Kevin back. Before he could get a proper hold of him, the boy was pulled from his reach, straight up into the open back of the army truck. Burke's face appeared in Kevin's place, an apologetic smile on his lips.

Throwing Crowe a warning look, Burke nodded at Jameison. "He'll be fine, Inspector. I'm sharing guard duty with Lt. Crowe at the moment."

Crowe gave Burke a disgusted sneer. "We're capturing terrorists Burke, not babysitting school boys. Lower your guard, someone'll pay for it, Yank. But it won't be me or my men, remember that." Crowe climbed up into the truck and disappeared from sight.

Peering after Crowe, Jameison could see the jabbering older McCabe perched on a bench across from his pale, silent brother. Crowe and his men lined one side of the truck with Liam, while Burke's men lined the other. The brothers sat at the very front, one on each side of the truck, corralled in place by the soldiers.

Jameison gave Burke a resigned nod, then walked back to the car. He drove to a more secluded spot down the street. They would stay close to provide back up to the team if it was needed. Chances were, the terrorist assault team would be more than able to handle the situation, but it never hurt to have a plan B. Besides, Jameison was anxious to see the fabled SparrowFour in action, even if it was from a distance.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Isabella Snow: The Claiming of Kitten!

Isabella Snow's The Claiming of Kitten is out at Loose-Id. I think we're gonna hear a lot from this lady. She'll be chatting at Realms of Love at 9 PM EST December 11, 2006.

I found some interesting stuff prowling around her web site and blog.

Having searched far and wide for a book (or man) that could leave her breathless, she penned her first novel out of frustration. Yes, that kind of frustration

Got a favorite sex position?
Sure you do. This topic was up for discussion with a few of my friends earlier this evening (all male). They asked me what I preferred. I answered without hesitation.
Kneeling, man behind me.

... this novel is a Capture/Forced Seduction story. Which automatically classes it as BDSM.
Please realize that while there are very slight bondage elements - the occasional tied wrist, gag, etc - there are no whips, floggers, or anything else that causes real pain in this book.

What she doesn't tell you is the man reads her books and knows what she desires. Kinda sexy, huh?

You can buy The Claiming if Kitten here. Christine M. Griffin did a fantastically sexy cover.



Here's an excerpt:

As she reached the last step, her left heel snagged in a crevice, sending her tumbling to the street below. Colliding with the unforgiving concrete, she felt the wind go out of her lungs. Gulping for air, she pulled herself up to a kneeling position. Thankfully, there hadn't been any traffic in the street before her fall. She shuddered to think what might've happened if there had been. Pressing a small hand to her forehead, she gathered her strength and tried to stand, but collapsed a few seconds later.

Pull yourself together, she told herself. And stand up!

Inhaling deeply, she aimed for the railing attached to the large stone wall beside her. Delicate fingers had almost succeeded, when a large hand cut through the darkness and clasped hers tightly. In an instant, powerful arms drew her up and against the very solid chest of a complete stranger. She gasped, effectively stunned by his presence.

Sweet Jesus… they still make men like this?! Widening eyes took in his 6'3 frame and chiseled features.

She'd stared just a moment too long and found herself blushing at the amused glint in his eyes. He was obviously enjoying the blatant appreciation. Alexandra cleared her throat nervously and did her best to present a less interested front.

"Nasty spill you took," he said softly. "How's your head?"

Spinning, thank you, Alexandra sighed dreamily to herself. "It's nothing…" She tried to suppress the butterflies in her stomach.

His hand brushed the hair at her temple aside to examine her, his eyes scanning her for any injury. A handsome face, matched by a very male physique, this man would make any healthy female swoon. This was the kind of stranger who inspired novels like the one she was presently reading.

Abducting Angel was easily the best capture fantasy she'd ever read. So much so, she'd spent three days searching all of Manhattan for a replacement when hers had gone missing. She'd had it with her the day she'd interviewed for her current employer - and that was the last time she could recall seeing it. Thankfully, it hadn't found its way into the wrong hands. A respectable company would never have hired a woman toting that kind of filth around with her!

Especially not one who pined for such a thing.

She grinned wickedly as one of the better scenes flashed through her mind's eye. Girl loses her way in a dark and dingy alley, gorgeous man manifests at the most opportune time…

Wonder if he's got any rope or blindfolds with him, Alexandra giggled to herself.

She was staring again.

"Can you speak, Kitten?" he murmured against the soft tendrils framing her face.

The unusual tone in his voice jolted her back to her senses. Her stomach fluttered as his lips touched her hair, followed by an acute surge of panic when his fingers trailed across her cheek. A steamy encounter with such a man might be everything she'd hoped for, but this was a little fast paced for real life! She placed her hands against his powerful frame and shoved with all of her might.

"Who do you think you are, talking to me this way?" She glared at him.

The stranger let her back away but did not release her. He watched in silence, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"I thought I was being rather friendly." He searched her face.

"I have plenty of friends already." She stepped backward, the words escaping her lips before she could stop herself.

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head to the side. Blue eyes narrowed slightly and he appeared to be looking straight through her. His face took on an unusual expression she couldn't quite identify. It was rather unnerving, whatever it was.

"Surely one more wouldn't hurt?" he offered with agrin.

"No, thank you." The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.

His jaw tightened and he gave her a piercing look. He appeared to be struggling with himself as he calculated his next move. Attempting to show little or no fear, she snorted loudly and turned on her heel to leave. She'd gone about ten paces when he called out from behind her.

"I don't think you fully appreciate the situation." His footsteps moved closer. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. But we will do it my way. Is that understood?"

She froze, the flush draining away from her cheeks almost as quickly as he'd put it there.

Oh my God… did he just quote… She held her breath as trembling fingers clutched her purse. Men don't read such things… do they??

Her mind was already reeling as he took hold of her arms and spun her around. Cornering her against the nearest building, he stretched a handkerchief across her mouth. That last sentence had left her in a daze, the fog of his words still consuming her. The gag wasn't even necessary – she couldn't have screamed if she'd wanted to. At this point, her primary concern was waking herself up. This was certainly a nightmare, concocted by a shamefully deviant subconscious.

But, if I'm dreaming, why are my panties so –

Skilled hands interrupted her thoughts as silk ropes cinched her wrists together. Muscular arms closed around her waist, lifting her from the ground and draping her across his shoulder. The bindings weren't painful, but certainly snug enough to quash any doubts as to her state of consciousness. Reality was beginning to sink in and Alexandra could feel the panic coming on.

"You have nothing to fear, Kitten." He seemed to have read her mind.


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