It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 11

A Calendar of Choices

The story so far:

Kate and Jack make love in the hot pool, but Kate manages to hold her own, (so to speak). “No one steals my heart and soul,” she tells him. “Not even a pirate.” But something’s moving, out there in the jungle…

“Well, hell,” said Jack. He turned to look over his shoulder and the flex of his hips made his hardness shift deep inside Kate. She gasped.

Then she squeaked with dismay.

The fronds were parting and pirates were stepping out of the jungle, one by one, a calendar of buccaneer beefcake. In the lead was the giant Duka, the sun gleaming off the gleaming chocolate expanse of his splendid chest. The First Mate was followed by Peter, his blond hair thick and shiny, peering over the top of his spectacles like some sexy professor.

Oh yeah, mama, whispered Tess. She and Ess were sitting on a tree branch, their mouths hanging open, their wings beating the air in time with Kate’s agitated pulse.

“We was wonderin’, Cap’n,” murmured another man, a gorgeous oriental specimen, his almond eyes dark and intense over high, slashing cheekbones and a straight blade of a nose. He had a small goatee, neatly trimmed. “Where ye’d got to.”

“Aye.” Duka draped a huge arm over the man’s lean shoulders, making him stagger for an instant before he recovered. “And now we know.” The First Mate winked. “Not that we’re surprised.” He glanced at the rest of the calendar. “Are we, lads?”

All up, there was four months’ worth of magnificent male flesh, including Harley, the poster boy for bikers who preferred boats. And Jack.

Holy shit.

Hunching down, Kate tried to conceal herself behind Jack’s body, but he laughed and nuzzled her hair. “They don’t bother me, pretty Kate.” God, he’d stiffened inside her! Despite herself, she bore down on his delicious hardness, her flesh rippling.

“Pervert!” she hissed, wriggling the slightest bit.

Jack grinned, unrepentant, and her stupid heart did giddy-ups.

Kate released her death grip on his shoulders to put her hands to her burning cheeks. “Don’t you have any inhibitions at all?” she snapped.

“Not a one.” He paused and his brows drew down. “Pity though…”

“Pity? What’s a pity?”

Jack gave a theatrical sigh, his eyes dancing, which meant his chest expanded, brushing against her nipples. Kate bit her lip to keep the moan from escaping. “We need to dry you off. Dammit all to hell, you feel so hot and tight and bloody gorgeous and I’m going to have to pull out.” As he spoke, he began to ease away, his satin-steel cock slipping reluctantly over her slick tissues.

“No.” Kate grabbed his hips and clenched her thighs, shivering with sensation. “Don’t. They’ll see.” She swallowed. “See all of me.”

He throbbed inside her like a second heart. “Darlin’ girl.” He dropped a kiss on her nose, another on her panting mouth. “I told you.” Although he beamed with apparently simple pleasure and his eyes were guileless, his teeth shone very white. Sharp.

Kate had to lick her lips. Someone growled, but she couldn’t tell who. “Told me what?”

“You’re mine, sweetheart.” He rocked back into her, punctuating each word with a short thrust. “Body. Heart. And Soul.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see pirates kicking off their boots. A shirt sailed through the air and landed in a billow of white on the branch next to the Hormone Harlots. Their eyes as wide as dolls’ house dinner plates, they didn’t even flinch.

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The wit and imagination of people never ceases to amaze me. While we were away, I collected nifty names for businesses. Some of them made me laugh out loud, especially when I thought of the staff answering the phone. I suppose they get used to it!

So here it is, another Wordplay. (We haven’t had one for ages.) And also a “I’m home, honey!” CONTEST!! To celebrate - if that’s the right word - coming home.

Bean ‘n’ Gone Expresso Drive Thru - Oliver, Okanagan, BC, Canada

Pick a Part Wreckers - Chilliwack, BC, Canada

See Ya Later Ranch (and winery)  - Okanagan, BC, Canada. That’s their logo on the right. Isn’t it cute? The original owner of the ranch adored dogs and had about fifty over his lifetime, most buried in a doggy cemetery on the property. A prolific letter writer, he always sighed off, “See Ya Later!”

Light ‘n’ Your Load Laundry, San Francisco

Citizen Chain Bicycles,  San Francisco

Doo Wash Cleaners, San Francisco

Site for Sore Eyes Optometrist, San Francisco

Good Earth Real Estate, San Francisco

I think my absolute favourite might be the Pick a Part Wreckers, but Citizen Chain is really smart too.

THE PRIZES (TWO OF THEM!):

The other thing I discovered was this wonderful business in Juneau, capital of Alaska, that manufactures and sells the most beeyootiful enamels.  I bought TWO as prizes, one for writers, one for readers (though it doesn’t really matter - it’s totally up to you.) They had hundreds, so if you’re intrigued, visit Wm Spear Designs and go nuts.

Choose between the Bookwings, which is a PIN (brooch)  or the Write Hard, Die Free, which is a FRIDGE MAGNET. Just remember which is which! Aren’t they great?  I know the photos aren’t brilliant, but believe me, the quality of the enamels is stunning and the colours are true and gorgeous.

 THE CONTEST:

All you have to do is leave a comment on this post - and you DO need to say in the body of your comment which prize you’d prefer, because there are the two.

You don’t have to offer up a nifty name, though if you know one I’m sure  we’d all love to hear it. But don’t beat yourself up about being clever - it’s not necessary,  okay?  As usual, My Beloved will pick two comments at random, one for each prize.

Contest closes midnight, EST, Friday 12th September, 2008.

Remember this cover?

Oh yeah, of course you do!

Syneca from Ellora’s Cave is a stunning artist. I know a lot of you have not only loved the TAILSPIN cover, but been totally intrigued by it.

So I’m just snatching a few moments to remind you all that TAILSPIN is up for Book Cover of the Month at Erin Aislinn’s website.

It’s really, really simple - just click for an automatic email message - and what’s great is that every voter is entered with a chance for a copy of the book that wins the month’s award.

Tomorrow we’re off to Vancouver. Sometime very shortly, I truly hope to have time to draw breath so I can update the blog properly. *sigh*

The RWA Conference here in San Francisco was truly frenetic, but fabulous fun. I need to get on that plane so I can have a rest!

More soon, dear ones…

http://www.erinaislinn.com/BookCoveroftheMonth.htm

I loved writing STRONGMAN and I absolutely, flat-out adored writing the Epilogue for it. It was…um…very satisfying.

Don’t ask me what it is about two gorgeous alpha men loving each other. I dunno. More bang for your buck? *wicked chuckle*

If you didn’t know, the film, Brokeback Mountain, was the original inspiration for STRONGMAN. By the time the credits rolled up, I was in tears. I was also furious - what an appalling waste of true love! Fort is essentially Ennis, the character played by Heath Ledger. Griff turned out to be - well, Griff. He’s unique.

Elaine talked about the movie in a comment a little while ago -

Of course I couldn’t find another solution for them. In that time and in that society, they would have butted up against the brick wall of bigotry at every turn. The only solution would have been to take them to a totally different world. And that’s exactly what Strongman does. That story was responsible for helping me pull myself out of the funk caused by Brokeback Mountain. At least Fort and Griff made it. They’re happy. *sigh* There’s hope for every other couple after reading about them. Thank you Denise.

The link for the complete epilogue (two whole chapters’ worth) will be in my next newsletter - second week of July. http://groups.yahoo.com/subscribe/deniserossetti It’s my exclusive gift for the members of my newsgroup. Why? Because I love ‘em all to death for sticking with me, that’s why.

Also because I’ll be away from mid July to September, travelling in the US and Canada. And I feel bad, because my Internet access will be intermittent.

Here you go ~ BTW, the drawing is by John Singer Sargent. It encapsulates so much of what I’m trying to convey about masculinity and aggression and eroticism. And it’s beautiful.

Epilogue

The click of metal on metal sounded very loud over the sound of their panting breath, the breeze whispering in the trees. Six fucking months it had taken Griff to win a wrestling match with Fort - but now, Twister be praised, he had. First fall.

Carefully, Griff rose, backed away. Any second… One, two -

“What the fuck-?” Fort’s roar of fury shook the hidden valley. He lurched to his feet, awkward because of the wrists cuffed behind him. “You little shit, you cheated!”

Griff staggered over to a handy boulder and collapsed, his heart singing even as the breath rasped in his lungs. “No more than you did, that first time.” He shot the big man a feral grin, full of evil promise. “I wasn’t going to lose, not again.” Twisting around, he rubbed the back of his thigh. “Shit, I think I pulled something.”

“Serves you right,” said Fort sourly. “But cuffs, Griff?” They rattled as he tested them, the muscles writhing beautifully under olive skin. “Was that necessary?”

Griff straightened, brushing off the bits of grass, the crushed daisies, checking for bruises. He took his time, trying to still the internal trembling. He was naked, they both were, the daylight illuminating every muscle, every tendon and sinew, the scars on Fort’s huge body. “I didn’t think anything as flimsy as leather would hold you,” he said.

Exclusive to members of my newsletter group.

If you enjoy male/male romance, especially that written by female authors, what is it that draws you? Do you have authors to recommend? Josh Lanyon’s good, and I like Jet Mykles and Morgan Hawke when they do Yaoi.

I’m still astonished at how it pushes my buttons. Do you think that’s weird? (It’s okay if you do!)

If you don’t like it, what is it that turns you off?

It’s hard to believe, I know, but my good friend and critique partner, Christine Wells, seems to have incarcerated poor Lady Kate from The Dangerous Duke. The Unfortunate Lady appears to be locked up in some strange labyrinth called the Writer’s Mind, her only consolation a strange little device called a lapdog - uh, top.

The story so far: The Dangerous Duke heroine, Lady Kate Fairchild, has been kidnapped by Romance Bandits and taken to their Lair. As punishment for the pain she caused her creator, Lady Kate must write a Diary of her Adventures, while served cocktails by Sven, the resident Swedish masseur. The Duke of Lyle is self-appointed editor of this mass of over-sentimentalized text.

For heaven’s sake, go and talk to the poor woman! I shudder to think of what may happen to Lady Kate, who is, after all, An Innocent. (Well, more or less.) She needs distraction. Oh dear, oh dear.

One lucky commenter in June will win an autographed copy of A Red Hot New Year, four sizzling stories to ring in the New Year, including my contribution, Coming on Strong!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 9

Harlot Heaven

The story so far:

Having arrived at Sweet Sisters Isle, Kate is finding it difficult to fight the buzz of magic in her blood, let alone cope with Jack’s distracting, sexy presence or the sight of Duka mastering the Duchess. To her surprise, Jack gives her the choice as to what they do next. And she thought he only had one thing on his mind…

The path through the jungle was as lovely as everything else on Sweet Sisters Isle, deeply shaded, the deep, fine sand pleasantly cool between Kate’s bare toes. Every now and then it narrowed, and she had the guilty pleasure of watching the flex of Jack’s muscular buttocks, swinging along in front of her.

Great ass, observed the husky-voiced Harlot. Biteable.

The air shimmered at the edges of Kate’s vision, as if a large dragon-fly had just whisked out of existence. She jerked around, but there was nothing to be seen, only the feathery fronds of jungle plants-and what was that? An orchid?

Smiling, Kate reached out to stroke her fingertips over the thick, creamy petals. The lilac coloured throat emitted a low mewl of pleasure.

“Aaargh!” She jumped back, and Jack’s arms slid around her waist from behind, reassuringly strong and solid.

“Relax, Kate,” a deep voice purred in her ear. It’s just the magic.”

“But it made a noise!”

“So what? It likes you.” He nuzzled her cheek. “You’re a vortex for the magic. It’s drawn to you. I can see it swirling all over your head and shoulders. Rather like a halo.” He gave a decidedly devilish chuckle. “One I intend to tarnish, good and proper.”

Before Kate could think of a suitably scathing reply, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together, tugging her along. “C’mon, just a little further.”

A narrow path branched upward and Jack took it at a rapid pace, his hand strong in hers.

The air grew warm and steamy and the chuckle of water falling on stone filled the air. The vegetation grew positively luxuriant - rampant vines looped over silky tree trunks, flowers bloomed profusely, everywhere she looked, in every possible shade of pastel, gleaming in iridescent tones from cream to violet and back again. And it smelled - God, it smelled absolutely divine!

Despite herself, Kate’s eyes filled with tears. When she saw Jack had turned to stare, she dashed a hand across her eyes. “Don’t say it,” she snarled. “I’m a sentimental fool.”

Jack said nothing, but he bent his handsome head and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. Then he ushered her through a tumbledown arch made of honey-gold stone.

All the breath punched out of Kate’s lungs.

They stood on the lip of a pool of clear water, as green as jade. It lay like a jewel in the dappled sunlight, tendrils of steam drifting above the surface in slow arabesques. For all the world, it looked as though a team of ancient Greek sculptors had completed half the coping and then become bored and wandered off, leaving the rest to Nature. Marble steps descended into the translucent depths, and a statue of a gracefully bending maiden emptied an urn into the pool, the long stream of falling water as smooth and beautiful as the finest Venetian glass. Rather to Kate’s surprise, the maiden was decorously clad in a flowing tunic that left one stone shoulder bare.

“Do you like it?” Jack smiled at her and for a moment, Kate thought she could glimpse the boy in the man.

She could only nod, lost for words, her eyes still stinging with an emotion she didn’t understand.

A warm palm rubbed gentle circles over her spine. “You need this, pretty Kate. Think of it as the gift of the Sweet Sisters - peace, at least for a little while.”

“P-peace?”

Want more? You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

Want even more than that? Join my newsletter - see below.

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One lucky commenter in June will win an autographed copy of A Red Hot New Year, four sizzling stories to ring in the New Year, including my contribution, Coming on Strong!

Congratulations to Tina P!!!

Winner of the Tim Tams and postcards pack. Tina, you’re May girl - send me your snail mail address and sit back to wait for the goodies. deniserossetti at gmail. com (no spaces)

Chocolate biscuits (cookies) to die for, baby!

Australia’s gift to the chocoholics of the world.

A Tim Tam consists of light chocolate cream filling sandwiched between two chocolate malted biscuits, and all coated with a thin layer of textured chocolate. That’s the basic thought, there are all kinds of variations, including dark chocolate (pictured above) and even a chili Tim Tam! Made by Arnott’s Biscuits, only in Oz.

Everyone else…

One lucky commenter in June will win an autographed copy of A Red Hot New Year, four sizzling stories to ring in the New Year, including my contribution, Coming on Strong!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 8

The Next Trembling Step

The story so far:

One kiss and Jack swears he’ll have Kate’s heart and soul as well as her delectable little body. The Brazen Hussy sails on through the magical Mist protecting Sweet Sisters Isle, home of the pirates, and Kate’s eyes open wide…

Kate gazed into the translucent blue depths, marveling. She could see all the way to the sandy bottom. Shoals of small fish nosed about the stout wooden piles of the dock where the Brazen Hussy was moored. Smiling, she watched them darting back and forth, like a cloud of living jewel-toned sweets.

A strong hand fisted in the back of the shirt she wore - Jack’s shirt. Speak of the devil… “Don’t tumble in, pretty Kate.”

Ooooh, yes, chorused the Hormone Harlots.

So masterful, sighed one.

Kate frowned. This voice was languishing and soft, ultra-feminine. The one she’d heard in the cabin had been a husky contralto. So there were two of them?

Uh-huh. They spoke together.

A spotted ray flapped past below, the tips of its wings furling up and down like a heavy tablecloth in a breeze.

“You picked a beautiful spot,” she said grudgingly.

“Aye.” The silk of Jack’s beard brushed the side of her neck. “I have excellent taste.”

“All’s shipshape, Cap’n,” rumbled Duka, looming behind them.

“Good.” Turning, Jack raised his voice. “Who’s for home, lads?”

At the chorus of enthusiastic shouts, he grinned, so like a boy that Kate’s heart did a flip-flop. Ridiculous thing.

With a rebel yell, blond Peter dived neatly over the side and stroked through the gentle swell to the shore. Spectacles clutched in one fist, he rose up out of the water like a piratical version of Mr Darcy. Kate sighed. Heavens, he was sweet! Look at those shoulders in the wet shirt. And that ass in the wet breeches, and…

“Enough,” said Jack crisply.

The world swung, then steadied as he scooped her up in his arms. Kate clutched at his shoulders. “Will you stop doing that?”

“There are other ways.” Jack glanced back over his shoulder as he started down the narrow gangplank. He reached the dock and lowered Kate until her feet hit sun-warmed wood. “Like that, for instance.”

Turning in his arms, Kate followed his gaze and gasped.

Duka had wrapped his belt around the waist of the Duchess. There was at least a foot of leather left over. He had the tongue of the belt in one huge fist so that the Duchess had to stumble along the deck behind him, almost trotting to keep up with his long stride. With a delicious little shock, Kate realised the other woman’s wrists were secured together with a length of rope.

But when the First Mate set foot on the narrow piece of timber that did duty for a gangplank, the Duchess baulked, the angry flush fading from her fair cheeks until she was pale as milk. “No,” she whispered.

Slowly, Duka turned, the plank bowing under his considerable weight. “What was that?” he enquired mildly.

Want more? You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

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Don’t forget - every month there’s a chance to win everything droolworthy - Tim Tams and hunkalicious postcards - including Mr Gorgeous . Check the Current Contest page and keep the comments coming!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 7
A Wager Claimed

The story so far:
Jack’s giant First Mate, Duka, reduces the Duchess to a quivering bundle of submission with an expertly administered spanking on her bare bottom. Jack gives the order to set sail for the pirates’ island home. But where is it?

You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

Kate stood, blinking, in the centre of Jack Cavanagh’s cabin on the Brazen Hussy. She didn’t think she’d ever seen such a combination of luxury and order. Lord, this had to be the fruits of years of raiding. The rich patina of polished wood was everywhere, from the bunk - wide enough for two - to the magnificent antique mahogany desk beneath the porthole. Antique? What a joke! She was living in an antique dealer’s wet dream.

Wriggling her toes, she dug them into what had to be a priceless rug, all cool silk pile under her soles. It felt at least six inches thick. Above her head, hung a pair of lamps in a fretted, Moorish style. Gazing at the soft brassy lustre, she wasn’t at all sure they weren’t pure gold.

Everything was scrupulously clean and polished, the papers on the desk arranged in two tidy piles, with a sextant and conch shell to hold them down. And he had an eye for colour as well as quality, Jack Cavanagh, because he would look beautiful in this space, she just knew it. She could imagine him lounging against the jewel-toned pillows heaped on the bunk, the vibrant colours enhancing his tigerish eyes, highlighting his auburn hair. And what they would do for his naked golden skin!

Keerrrist, yes! muttered one of the Hormone Harlots. Kate shook her head, puzzled. She’d never been able to differentiate between them before. They’d always been a duet. This voice was deep and a touch husky, contralto.

“Like it?” Jack leaned against the door, smiling that dangerous smile.

Her stomach doing flip-flops, Kate glared. She swept out an arm, indicating the furnishings. “Is this your booty, pirate?”

Unperturbed, Jack grinned, sauntering closer. “Indeed it is, pretty Kate.” He stroked a finger down her bare arm and she shivered, jerking away. “And so are you.”

“I’m no one’s property.”

Jack considered that, his head to one side. “Your heart and soul, that’s your own. No one can take what you won’t give. But your sweet little body, now…” He drew her closer, firm gentle hands on her upper arms. “About the kiss you wagered…”

Kate stared, mesmerized.

“You know, sweetheart, I haven’t been so intrigued for a long, long time.” He stroked her nose with a long forefinger and she felt her eyes cross. Hissing, she batted his hand away. Jack chuckled. “There are you, you see? You’re all fire and quick wits, Kate. A challenge.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me, you thief!”

“I’m not.” Jack’s gaze grew intent. “I mean to have you, Kate, I’m going to fuck you every way I want, whenever I want and with whom I want. And more.” When she gasped, reeling, his elegant mouth quirked in the neat beard. His slid one hand up under her hair to cradle the back of her neck. “Never fear, it will be what you want too.”

Kate clenched her fists. She mustn’t hit him, she mustn’t. She couldn’t afford to antagonise the man who had such power over her. Such power, sighed the Harlots, giving her clit surreptitious tug. Kate set her teeth against the surge. “You’re very sure of yourself, Jack Cavanagh,” she said.

Jack’s eyes twinkled. “Some have called me arrogant,” he agreed. “But I never underestimate an opponent. You’re worthy of my steel, Kate.” His teeth flashed. “So to speak. In fact…that’s the whole point. I can’t be entirely sure of your heart and soul, but I can be sure of this.”

He bent his head and fitted his lips to hers.

Kate held herself rigid, not helping. Which didn’t seem to bother Jack at all. He was taking his time, drawing it out, exploring one lick and nibble at a time. Oh God, her lips were tingling and her entire traitorous body yearned to shift forward an inch, to press up against all that muscled hardness and warmth. Everywhere they touched, little fires sprang up under her skin so that she trembled with the effort of ignoring them.

Jack murmured, “That’s my girl, fight it.” His lips curved against hers. He was smiling, the bastard!

Show him, screamed the Harlots in chorus. Go on, show him how it’s done!

Want more? You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

Want even more than that? Join my newsletter - see below.

Don’t forget - every month there’s a chance to win everything droolworthy - Tim Tams and hunkalicious postcards - including Mr Gorgeous . Check the Current Contest page and keep the comments coming!

My newsletter has just gone out, which means it’s time for… TADAAAA!!!

Crime, Punishment and a Good Spanking

The next episode of Rackety Kate!

Chapter 6

The story so far:
Jack accepts Kate’s challenge, though she didn’t really intend to make one in the first place, but that Irish temper… The Comte betrays the Duchess and Duka, Jack’s First Mate, is mighty taken with her, though she abuses him roundly. When Jack decrees she be punished, Duka happily accepts the task of getting the haughty blonde to see the error of her ways.

You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

Duka turned to Jack. “Now or later?” he enquired.

Jack pursed his lips in thought, his considering gaze fixed on the furious Duchess, squirming in Duka’s grip, still gasping threats.

Hang you, you bastard,” Kate heard her mutter. “Draw and quarter…”

“Let’s begin as we mean to go on. Punishment should always follow directly after the crime. Go ahead.”

Duka’s grin split his dark face. “Aye,” he rumbled. “My pleasure.”

Ignoring her shrill protests, he tugged the Duchess toward a barrel. Upending it, he seated himself and pulled her to stand between his spread legs. He stroked her cheek. “Can ye take it, sweetheart? Like the brave lass I know ye are?”
The Comte snickered. “She’s better at dishing it out, in my experience.”

Duka shot him a killing glare and he subsided. The black man smiled at the Duchess. “What’s your name, darling?” he crooned. “Tell me.”

“Go to hell,” snarled the Duchess.

“It’s Venetia,” said the Comte. “I told you that.”

“Aye, but I want her to give it to me with her own pretty lips. Your name, love?”

“Pig!” spat the Duchess, quivering. “Brute! Bastard!”

Duka looked pained, though his warm brown eyes twinkled. He gave a theatrical sigh that expanded his chest in a most delicious fashion, the slabs of muscle sliding under smooth mahogany skin. Acutely conscious of Jack’s big firm body pressed all along hers, Kate caught the flutter of the other woman’s lashes as she flicked a glance at Duka’s chest.

Jack bent his head and nibbled Kate’s earlobe. “What do you bet me he can make her reach her pleasure?”

“No!” gasped Kate. “Not here, in front of…” She flailed a hand in the direction of the calendar of pirates, her heart hammering with a strange dark excitement.

“Oh aye,” murmured Jack, nuzzling her hair. “That’s just it. Here, in front of everyone, the weight of their eyes, the warmth of their breath, the hardness of their cocks, knowing how much they want you, but knowing you’re safe because your man won’t let them touch you. Unless you ask, that is.”

Want more? You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page.

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