Joely Sue Burkhart

In honor of Read an E-Book Week, everything is 20% off at Drollerie Press. 

Don’t forget I have lots of Free Reads on this site as well as downloadable excerpts which you may enjoy.  But to fully celebrate ebooks, I want to give away a copy of any book in my backlist.  Just comment on this post to enter.  Friday, I’ll announce a winner when I post a new Vicki snippet.

I’m celebrating read an e-book week by downloading a copy of Monica Jackson’s latest, Charm Me Baby, available at Red Rose Publishing.

I need your help!

If you’ve been reading Vicki’s snippets the past few weeks, you know that she’s trying to launch her own fashion line in Dallas, TX.  I have the event planned for the unveiling, and I know exactly how she’ll promote the line on VCONN, Victor’s (her brother) risque cable channel that is featured in his book, Hurt Me So Good (unofficial title), but I have one big problem.

I don’t know the NAME of her line.

Is it just her name?  A special V?  I don’t think so.  The V is special to Victor, very crucial to his story, so I don’t want to over do it.  I want something special to VICKI, that’s allll hers.  It should help me tell her story and reveal another facet of her character.

Obviously, this name is very important, and so far, I’m drawing a blank. 

That’s where you guys come in.  After reading the snippets, what would you name Vicki’s fashion line? 

Comment on this post as many times as you like.  I’ll take each name and pool them together, and on April 1st, I’ll pick one for a prize: a signed copy of Dear Sir, I’m Yours, the beginning of the Connagher stories. 

If one of you really nails the line’s name and I end up using it in Vicki’s story, I’ll thank you in the dedication, assuming of course, that Vicki is someday contracted.  I’ll also give you a free e-copy of Victor’s book when it’s released, a signed copy of Victor’s print book when it’s released, and the same for Vicki’s book (again, assuming it’s contracted).  Whew!  Edited to add:  and of course, I’ll send you a signed copy of Dear Sir, I’m Yours, too, and hook you up with an electronic version if you don’t have it.

This contest is open to anyone on the planet, even if you’ve won something from me before.

I’ve been really lucky this winter — I don’t think I’ve been sick once.  Unfortunately, I now have a spring cold.  Ugh.  No voice and stuffy nose, hence the blog title.  It’s making my new workouts incredibly difficult but I wheezed my way through today!

Then I got my author copies of Dear Sir, I’m Yours and did some happy sniffles!  Yes, I did pet and hug them.  I’ll be giving away a copy for St. Patrick’s Day here on the blog, and I’m also going to be ordering more copies of Dear Sir for more extensive promo mailings.  That means plenty of copies to give away here and on Twitter!  (I already gave away a copy today.)

I finished the line edits on The Bloodgate Guardian and shipped it off to my editor.  I don’t have a formal release date yet, but I’m guessing it’ll be June/July and I can’t wait to share the cover!  It gives me chills every time I look at it.

Of course Vicki is still under way.  I reached the candybar scene in Victor’s office.  The next big candybar scene will be an interesting idea that Shiloh came up with to utilize VCONN’s extensive market to help launch Vicki’s line.  I know many of you are anxious for more snippets, and I’ll do my best to taunt you with little bits here and there.  I’m wicked that way. 

I’ll be packaging items to mail on Friday, so if you want bookmarks (for either Rose or Dear Sir – I have new ones for both!) drop me a note.

Want to win some cool autographed books?  Ann Aguirre is celebrating the upcoming release of Hell Fire by giving away several books, including my The Rose of Shanhasson.  Details here.

I was on a roll for Vicki, and then the first major sex scene totally derailed me.  Last week I picked at the story each night, but I was lucky to get a couple of hundred words, where the weeks before I was clearing 1-2K easily.  However, I was able to finish several “summary” scenes that were important but not “candy bar scenes.”

The big candy bar scene I’m now ready for is with Victor on page.  I decided I should re-read part of his book last night to make sure I got his voice right…….and then ended up reading until midnight.  Oops.

It doesn’t help that I started a new workout routine this week.  I tend to obsess.  (Who, moi?)  I’ve been wholly consumed with getting back on track in exercise, which seems to have done a number on my writing.  However, I know that exercise will make me feel better and eventually, improve my sense of wellbeing and fire my creativity.  Or so I’ve been told.  Right now, I’m still cripping around groaning at sore muscles.

Meanwhile, I’m working on line edits for The Bloodgate Guardian, due back 3/10.  I worked for awhile today and got through about 1/3, so I’m in good shape.

My goals for this month:

• 50K in Vicki so I can finish her next month.
• Edits on The Bloodgate Guardian and Victor as they come up.
• Promo mailings for Dear Sir, I’m Yours.  I have some excellent bookmarks!  If you’d like some, drop me an e-mail and I’ll see what I can do.

This has to be the last snippet, gang, sorry.  To make it up to you, it’s a juicy one.  Sorry it’s late.  This whole week has gotten away from me.  I didn’t get anywhere near the word count I wanted, and our weekend is packed.  Sigh.  Hopefully next week will be better. 

Elias set her down long enough for him to shuck his pants, while she shed her clothes in record time. Then he slammed her up against the wall so hard the whole house shook.

By the quirk of his mouth, he knew damned well how that must have sounded to Jesse downstairs. “Condom?”

Breathless, she narrowed her eyes, tempted to tell him yes just to piss him off. She was on the pill, but they’d been broken up for more months than she cared to count. “Have you been with anyone else?”

“No.” Somehow, he managed to sound insulted. “I’m not the one with the hot cabana boy downstairs listening to our every groan.”

“I’m not the one who walked out on us, and no, if you’re curious, I haven’t been with anyone else either.”

She pushed the shirt the rest of the way off his shoulders, reveling in the sheer strength in his body. He wasn’t a big man, but he carried a wallop of power in his lean, six-foot-tall frame. He’d trained for years, so he knew exactly how to use every muscle. His neck and shoulders corded and flexed, effortlessly shifting her higher on the wall.

“No condom,” she whispered, winding her fingers in the short, dark hair at the base of his neck. “Just you, Spike.”

Half in play but also deadly serious, he snarled and snapped his teeth at her ear. He gripped her shoulder in his jaws, biting just this side of pain, and she couldn’t suppress the delicious shiver that rocked her body against his. With a brutal thrust, he shoved inside her so hard that a cry tore out of her throat and she cracked her skull on the wall.

He knew exactly what she liked; he knew how much she could take; and he certainly already knew how slick and wet she was for him. The only problem: it’d been too long for him, too. After just a few thrusts, he shuddered and poured into her.

Panic made her pulse flutter like a butterfly trapped in a glass. Need pounded inside her as strong as his thrusts, demanding, hammering for attention. Her skin felt raw, like she’d rolled around in glass and sharp rocks, swollen and so damned tight that she wanted to scream at him for finishing so quickly.

“Damn you,” she ground out, clawing his back hard enough he grunted and thudded inside her on another pulse. “You son of a bitch. God, I need you so bad. What am I supposed to do now? I hurt!”

He actually had the audacity to laugh. “You’re insatiable, Vik.”

Furious, desperate tears burned her eyes. He’d said she was like a hungry crocodile. Maybe he was tired of trying to keep her satisfied. Maybe that’s why she suddenly found herself attracted to two men. Fury, need, and shame twisted inside her. She shoved at his chest, threw her elbow at his throat, and the more he tried to contain her struggles, the harder she fought him.

In a smooth move they must teach at the police academy, he flipped her over and used his weight to pin her against the wall. Awkwardly, she flailed back at him with both arms, but he snagged first one wrist and then the other in the small of her back. The more she squirmed, the higher he pushed her arms until her muscles quivered and her shoulders burned with pain.

“I’ve got you, babe,” he whispered in a devilishly relaxed—fully satiated—voice. “You know I’ll take good, long, hard care of you.”

I just signed the contract for Victor (Hurt Me So Good) to go to Samhain!  I’m so happy and relieved.  Of course I love Victor and those of you who’ve helped me with beta reads were all very positive, but I was still nervous since I have a new editor this time around.  I’ll keep you posted on the official release date.

Oh, and I saw the cover workup for The Bloodgate Guardian (title change from Codex) and it made me do another Snoopy dance.  I made everyone at dinner (we met Uncle J, Aunt BB, and Grandma and Grandpa at Tasia) look at it on my iPhone.  As soon as I can share, I’ll let you know. 

Sorry I didn’t post a snippet today — just too busy.  I’ve started a new workout routine and it is KILLING me.  In a good way.  I hope.  Ouch.  Wince.

I’ve slowed down on the snippets because the writing has slowed down too.  I finally finished the big sex scene, and then totally lost momentum.  Maybe I just needed a breather!  I’m still tapping away on the next chapter but it’s not going as well as I’d like.  I’m hoping to hit 30K by Sunday, but I’m nowhere near that right now.

This section immediately follows the last snippet I posted (Jesse ran toward the door like zombies were crawling out of the TV).

Warning: sexual content, voyeurism.

Not a moment too soon, because she slammed into Elias and attacked his shirt. He’d left his tie and jacket in the truck, but he couldn’t remember if he had any spare clothes here. Jerking at the button on her jeans, he bit her bottom lip so hard her breath hissed out, spurring her to yank harder.

“Watch the shirt, babe. I have to show up for work tomorrow without looking like I was mugged.”

A button tinged on the wall. “I’ll make you a new one.”

He jammed his hand down the front of her jeans, wincing at the zipper digging into his skin, but he couldn’t slow down. He had to stroke her, see how turned on she was, how quickly she came at his touch. It’d tell him a lot about how much she’d missed him.

She rolled her hips, squirming against him, helping him work his fingers deeper, past the satin, hooking his finger beneath…

“Yes,” he growled out against her ear. “You’re so wet and hot you’re going to come…now,” he finished, a bit surprised. He hadn’t meant it as a command, but she shuddered, groaning deep in her throat.

Her cry of pleasure rose in intensity, her hunger flaming higher. Tightening her arms around his neck, she hopped up against him, forcing him catch her with his free arm while she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Hurry,” she moaned, but then she stiffened in his arms, just a moment, and he wondered if she was going to come again so quickly. He buried a finger inside her and she shuddered, her voice rising, wild and desperate. “Elias, please!”

He started for her bedroom, but a soft noise made him hesitate. It sounded like a low moan. He whipped his head around as the door snicked shut. Damn that punk. If he’d thought to watch the show…

“I need you,” she whispered, thrusting and stroking her tongue in his ear, her breath hot and frantic, and Elias forgot to care.

#

Leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, Jesse struggled to calm his breathing. She’d looked at him over the cop’s shoulder. She’d seen him standing there, jeans gaping open to ease the misery, jerking in climax. If the cop had turned around and seen him indecently exposed, he’d probably be a gelding.

A muffled thump, a low, hard voice, and Jesse felt the stirring in his groin all over again. He stumbled down the stairs, washed his hands, and cleaned up the mess as quickly as possible. Then he stripped naked, stretched out on the bed she’d given him, and stared up at the ceiling.

The thumps were louder. Yes, he’d been right. Her bedroom was directly above. He closed his eyes and imagined how the cop was making love to her. Not the bed, not yet. They’d been too urgent to make it that far.

Jesse scrambled to his knees and planted his hands on the wall above the headboard. Yes, against the wall, vibrating with their passion. Braced on his knees, he imagined her pressed against his back, stroking his chest and stomach, lingering, playing low on his belly while she laughed huskily in his ear.

When she screamed, he would be the one rocking the bed.

I’ve known Tia online for years but never queried her to review any of my work for two reasons:  she doesn’t do e-books and she doesn’t typically review sexier books.  However, she picked up a copy of Survive My Fire while Drollerie Press was running a free download, and gave it a shot reading on her iPod. 

I’m doubly honored that she chose SMF as an e-book introduction and also reviewed my debut on her excellent Debuts & Reviews site.

The voice is what captured me in this story, and what held me throughout. It is otherworldly, surreal and utterly engaging.

Thank you so much, Tia!

This is a little heavy on backstory and introspection, which might be cut in revision, but I need to make sure Elias is more than an asshole. At least sometimes. 

Elias slipped his seldom-used key into her locked door and eased it open. Why so stealthily, he hated to admit. It made him feel sneaky and mean, hoping to catch her in a compromising position, and also sick to his stomach at the thought. He didn’t know if he could really face that reality. He could talk about it, even joke about it, but if he saw her having sex with another man, it might be the last breath that bastard would ever take.

Even if that man was Jesse, who managed to give off that helpless victim vibe that must have drawn the vilest perps in Dallas.

Elias knew he had no right to claim her sole affections, not after abandoning her these past months. Frustrated rage at his job had simmered over into his personal life. When Donnie had been killed, Elias could only picture himself lying dead in the street. He’d like to think that maybe he’d wanted to protect her from ever ending up a sobbing widow leaning over his coffin, but he couldn’t lie to himself.

Her client had blown his partner away.

She’d only being doing her job, that just happened to run counter to his. But she didn’t have to do it so f*cking well.

So he’d taken his rage out on her, even though he knew it was stupid. He knew he’d been a prick. She was a strong woman and she could carry a hell of a lot, but that didn’t make it right for him to dump the blame on her shoulders. Especially when I carry Donnie’s death on my back, too.

It would serve him right if she’d moved on and found another man. A man who didn’t work himself to death in case a drug dealer didn’t get to him first. Or a kid who worships the ground she walks on because she saved him.

The lights were off but the television was playing one of those ridiculous black-and-white zombie movies she loved so much. Two heads were visible above the couch, although Jesse’s was low and tucked into her neck more than Elias cared to see. Nothing suspicious was going on; they were just watching a movie.

Doubt ate away at him. She’d been so upset, so desperate earlier when they’d talked on the phone. Maybe they’d already done the deed hours ago. Instead of serving dinner, maybe she’d taken Jesse on top of the table.

Elias knew full well that she was a passionate woman. The kid was so eager and desperate to belong to her, that God only knew how far he’d pushed her. Elias couldn’t even bring himself to blame him. He’d do a hell of a lot to keep her himself, even if the last few months hadn’t proven how much he cared about her.

He shut the door quietly, but her head whipped around. Her eyes met his, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she hadn’t found release in anyone else’s arms. Not by the fire in her eyes. He swore the temperature in the room spiked twenty degrees.

Beside her, Jesse uncurled, stretching like a sleepy cat.

Elias forced himself to move slowly instead of falling on her like a starving wolf. Methodically, he stashed his gun and badge in the bolted-down safe he’d installed in her coat closet once they got serious. Shutting the door, he turned and raked his eyes over her as she stood. She wore jeans and a soft sweater instead of a slinky gown or low-cut blouse, but it was all he could do not to bury his hands in that cotton and rip his way into her lush body.

She stalked toward Elias, her eyes glittering, her body simmering that siren call of need. Need for him. Eyes only for him. Despite the handsome younger man hovering warily at her back.

Trying not to be an asshole, at least this time, he said, “Get your butt downstairs, Jesse.”

The kid shot toward the door like zombies had started crawling out of the TV.