Here it is - free on my website - a vignette with Griff and Fort from Strongman. Ah, I love those two! What can Griff give Fort as a Natal Day present when he’s already handed the big man his heart and soul? All in one pdf file.

Here’s a taste, followed by the link.

***

Almost a year.

Griff glanced across the interior of the lamplit van as Fort ran a hand through his hair for what had to be the hundredth time. He was glaring down at the papers spread across the table, the end of an ink brush clamped firmly between his teeth. Gods, he had no idea what he looked like, not even now, after Griff had told him Twister knew how many times. Big and tough and oh-so-serious. Not handsome, not by any stretch, but with his own rough beauty.

Griff’s chest went tight. Blinking rapidly, he drained the last of his Aetherian brandy. And all his, since that day in the hidden valley, almost a year ago. Some sort of celebration was definitely in order, but what?

Fort frowned more ferociously than ever, one big finger running down a column of figures.

“You need spectacles,” said Griff absently.

Fort’s head jerked up. “Nonsense.”

Griff lay back against the pillows and grinned. Fort’s bark was worse than his bite and to be honest, he had no objection to either. “Then why are you squinting?”

“Am not,” said Fort automatically, but his storm-gray gaze skimmed over the other man’s body in the skintight costume, lingering on Griff’s fingers, drumming casually on one muscled thigh.

***

Read it! Celebration: A Strongman Vignette

***

Read the first chapter

Read the Reviews | Read the free Epilogue

Ebook: Ellora’s Cave

 Print: Ellora’s Cave | Australian Bookstores

Remember that the free epilogue (all 30 pages of it) is only available if you subscribe to my monthly newsletter.  Enjoy, my dears!And let me know what you think, okay?  All feedback is welcome.

Tell me, does this flip your switch? It passed the Rossetti giggle-out-loud test. Not many do.

But wait, there’s more. The rest of the joke goes like this -

I e-mailed it to my Chinese doctor friend. He e-mailed back: “If the light stays on for more than 4 hours, call your erectrician.”

Boom, boom!

Read an article in the paper recently about why women have sex. Among other things, the researchers said that men find most women at least moderately sexually attractive, whereas women don’t find many men desirable at all.

I was really caught by that. SNAP! I thought. Because the sad truth is - I don’t find many men attractive. Of course - *cough, cough* - I am the perfect exemplar of feminine beauty, so I have every right to judge. Not!

Please don’t think that I don’t look, because I do - ALL THE TIME! (No sacrifice is too great for my readers.) In fact, we went to a football (Aussie Rules) preliminary final last weekend and my eyeballs were revolving, checking everyone out. I love people-watching anyway, because after all, I’m a writer, and there’s nothing as interesting as people, but… but…

I’m such a picky bitch. Even the merest hint of flab, forget it.  Slightly pigeon-toed? Nu-uh. Short? Nope. Ordinary features? Nah, not good enough.

I’d always thought it was “just me”, you know? That I was pretty cold and mean. This is the reason I don’t give detailed descriptions of the faces of my heroes. I, um, can’t.  The same reason I don’t go looking for photos of movie stars or models to base them on. I find it too much of a come-down to visualise them as men who actually exist.  No real man could be as gorgeous as what’s in my head. *smile/sigh* It’s also why I like covers where you can’t see the faces.

How often do you look at a complete stranger and think, “Phrrrroar, he’s a bit of all right!” ? I mean, based on looks alone - not after talking to some guy and finding he’s funny and interesting and generally a terrific person. Even if he is a bit soft around the middle and has a few spots.

I definitely do notice bits and pieces. A boy with unbelievably blue eyes. A guy with beautiful hands. A jogger who’s tall and built. I once nearly drove up a telegraph pole because I was leering at cyclist with the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen on a man. Probably just as well the helmet hid his face. He couldn’t possibly have lived up to those pins.

I mix ‘em up and put ‘em all together for my heroes. Oh, and sometimes I add accoutrement, like, uh, tails and wings. *grin* But one entire gorgeous package - nope, not even on a movie screen.

Mind you, to keep us all entertained and off the streets, I’m including pics of my most recently discovered lust object - Vampire Bill from True Blood, in the person of actor Stephen Moyer. He’s got that whole broody, dangerous thing going that really does it for me. And a particularly nice hairy chest. Yum. But if I met him? I’m sure he’s a lovely man, but bet I could find something to put me off. (Actually, now I come to look more closely at his chin…) While he, of course, would be completely swept off his feet by my mature charm and beauty. Right.

So, is it just me? Or are you incredibly picky about who shares your fantasy four-poster?

I’m not going to spoil your pleasure by dropping hints, but this is just wonderful. What wicked fun! Enjoy, my dears!

Sigh… They don’t make ‘em like they used to - or do they? Heh heh.

 It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 19

Delightfully Devious

The story so far:
Duka has won his Duchess, but at the highest cost possible for a man like him. But he has a job to do. There are still more goods for sale…

You can read all of Kate here – http://www.deniserossetti.com/kate.html

Duka stepped out from behind the screen. “Settle down, rot ye!” he roared.

One by one, the pirates quieted, save for the occasional rumble of laughter.

His natural dignity unimpaired, Duka eyed the crowd with profound disfavour. “We have an auction to finish, goods unsold. Shall we get on with it, shipmates?”

“Aye!” The shout echoed around the forest.

“But I thought we’d see…” whispered Kate to Jack. “You know…Duka.”

He was holding her so closely that when he chuckled, she felt the reverberation through her whole body. Goose bumps of delight paraded down her spine. “You thought pirates weren’t capable of self-control? Harley and Chan will wait a little for their pleasure, you’ll see.”

Actually, it was the Rossetti woman Kate had her doubts about. Fortunately, the excellent common sense of her readers kept the crazy one in check. They wouldn’t rush headlong into sensual gratification, no way. A smug smile curved her lips. Rossetti’s readers were people of restraint and self-discipline, intelligent and discerning in their pleasures.

Absently, she nuzzled Jack’s shoulder, thinking how wonderful he smelled, of clean linen and warm healthy man. Sighing, she glanced up in time to see Harley and Chan tugging the screens aside as fast as they were able.

The scene on the stage hadn’t changed. Tom Cavanagh was still fastened to his St. Andrew’s cross, his cat now curled up against one big bare foot. The Count de Nothos still smouldered in his silver chains, Peter lay lounging on the couch with the Duchess’s leash in his hand, while she sat neatly on the floor near his feet, looking down her aristocratic nose.

“Let’s get to it, lads,” called Duka. “What am I bid for this fine gentleman here?” He waved at Tom Cavanagh, magnificently helpless.

“Wait,” croaked the First Officer. “Dammit, man, wait!”

***

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.

Subscribers to my newsletter get to interfere with Kate’s love life. Sign up to join the fun!

 It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 18

High Bid

The story so far:
Kate and Jack are guests of honour at the pirates’ auction. Duka presides over a mouthwatering selection of goods, human and material. The bidding’s about to start on the Duchess…

You can read all of Kate here – http://www.deniserossetti.com/kate.html

“Aye!” called Harley, leaping to his feet. “I ain’t skeered, ye great lummox. I’ll bid a keg of finest brandy!”

Duka growled, but the red-bearded pirate waved his tankard, his teeth flashing in a grin. “”Twenty gold doubloons!” He belched. Clapping a dainty hand over her nose, Ess rolled her eyes and fluttered away to perch on a palm tree.

“Fifty!” yelled Chan, his almond eyes snapping with excitement.

“Sixty doubloons and I’ll write all yer letters fer a month.” Peter’s voice carried clearly in the soft night air.

Slowly, Duka turned his head and glared at Peter where he lay, delectably displayed on the couch. “You ain’t allowed to bid,” he rumbled. “You’re goods, dammit.”

“Oh.” Peter flushed adorably. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“Hmpf.” Duka turned back to the audience, the light of the torches gleaming on the dark bronze of his massive chest, sparking fire from his gold nipple rings. “Fifty doubloons. I’m bid fifty doubloons. Speak now, for God’s sake, or shut the hell up.”

Chan and Harley had their heads together, whispering.

Red Beard staggered to his feet. “A hundred!” he bellowed. “One-fuckin’-hundred gold doubloons!”

The silence was so complete, Kate could hear the torches spluttering.

Red Beard chuckled. “There, Cap’n,” he said to Jack. “That’s shut `em up.”

“It certainly has,” said Jack dryly. He nodded at Duka. “Go on.”

But Duka’s head was bent, whispering to the Duchess. Kate saw her white fingers clench hard on his dark forearm. The woman trembled, every limb vibrating with apprehension. Kate caught only the occasional word from the First Mate. “Can’t beat…shit, sorry…don’t cry, love.” Clumsily, he patted her back. “Gotta…ah, fuck.”

His shoulder sagged, he lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “Going, going…”

***

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.

Subscribers to my newsletter get to interfere with Kate’s love life. Sign up to join the fun!

I’m not the maternal type,  okay? That’s just the way it is.  It’s true that I did want  my kids - we have two, one each flavour. My Beloved and I planned for them and I loved them with amazing (to me) intensity right from the start.  I’m so proud of what wonderful, unique, clever, funny human beings they are now. But maternal? Nope, was never me. The thought of having a family footy team fills me with horror. Babies? Aw, yeah, cute, but I could always take ‘em or leave ‘em. Unless they were mine, in which case I took ‘em on a permanent basis.

All of which is interesting - because of the reaction I had to this picture right here.

This is a British Rugby player called Ben Cohen, with one of his twin daughters.  They’re advertising something - could be colic medicine - but hell, who cares?

Wham! One look and I dissolved into a puddle of hormonal “aw gee”. Let’s face it, I’ve seen lots of pics of the most divinely masculine men, all in the name of research, of course. *ahem* But I simply cannot get over how powerfully this image affects me, given I’m so totally not maternal and all. And I’ve had the similar reactions to gorgeous men with little babies before.  I’m consistent, is all I can say.

So WTF is this? Exactly?

Here’s my theory - it’s a Cavewoman Thing.  There’s something buried deep, deep in my little girly hindbrain that screams, “Whoa, the perfect mate. Grab ‘im, woman. QUICK!”

Look what we got here :-

• proof of virility in the form of baby. The dude is fertile!
• proof of great genes - look at that body, look at the gorgeous healthy kid
• promise in the muscles that’s he’s strong, strong, strong - enough of a warrior to protect me and kids from any threat
• promise of fabulous sex. Oh yeah, mama!
• protectiveness in his whole posture, the way he holds the baby
• great eye contact with offspring.  This is one warrior who’s capable of nurturing. He’s not going to knock us around.
• expression on the little one’s face. She feels totally safe with her daddy, totally loved, completely confident in his grasp.

Am I the only one to find this father/child stuff so powerful? BTW, it doesn’t work on me if the kid is older. It has to be a little bub. Which I think confirms it’s those cavewoman instincts at play. Fascinating!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 17

Luxury Goods

The story so far:
Kate and Jack have a “heart-to-heart” that really is. When Peter arrives, she discovers to her astonishment that among the items on offer at the pirate auction are Tom Cavanagh, the Comte de Nothos, the Duchess and Peter.

You can read all of Kate here – http://www.deniserossetti.com/kate.html

“Best seat in the house.” Jack nuzzled Kate’s hair. “Comfortable?”

Kate murmured her assent, stroking the arm he’d wrapped under her ribs. Though it wasn’t strictly true. Her heart thumped with a heavy expectant beat and she tingled as though her veins bubbled with champagne. But, yes, her body was also magnificently languid, almost boneless. After Peter had departed, Jack taken her to a sort of outdoor bathroom, roofed with a pergola draped with sweet-scented, flowering vines and fed by two trickling streams that splashed into a shallow rock-lined pool, one cool and one so hot it steamed.

He’d refused to let her do anything for herself, tenderly washing her hair and rinsing it, massaging her scalp until she purred. He’d been equally meticulous with the rest of her, soaping every inch of her skin with his hands. Of course, he’d lingered over her breasts, her bottom, her thighs. Grinning, his glorious chest rising and falling with his quickened breath, he’d made absolutely certain the quivering folds of her sex were squeaky clean.

But when she reached for him, he backed away. “Later,” he said cryptically. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

Then he’d dried her off with big fluffy towels, laid her down on a clean one and proceeded to massage fragrant oils into every inch of her skin. God, it had been heaven. As for the foot rub–! When he pressed his thumbs hard all along her sole, she’d nearly come then and there.

He’d allowed her to kiss him, giving her his mouth, deep and soft and wet.

With a final smile, he carried her back to the hammock, covered her with a light linen sheet, pecked her cheek like a brother, and left her to doze contentedly in the perfumed shade.

She’d woken to the drift of soft fabric against her cheek and opened her eyes to see Jack holding an armful of diaphanous fabric. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said, the tiger eyes glinting.

***

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.

Subscribers to my newsletter get to interfere with Kate’s love life. Sign up to join the fun!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 16

Feint and Return

The story so far:
The orgiastic battle of wills is virtually a dead-heat, Kate wins by a gasp, but she and Jack discover their strong, possessive feelings are mutual. Everyone finds satisfaction in their own way, such a considerable achievement that Kate passes out in gratitude.

You can read all of Kate here – http://www.deniserossetti.com/kate.html

Someone was stroking Kate’s hair, very gently. A woman’s voice said, “I think she’s coming `round.”

“No,” whispered Kate. “Not yet. Please.”

The woman went on talking, but another voice rode over the top of her, drowning her out – a deep, burnished baritone with a beguiling lilt to it. “C’mon, pretty Kate, open your eyes.”

Kate shot upright with a gasp – and nearly tipped herself ass over elbow out of the hammock.

“Whoa!” Jack caught her shoulders and held her steady. “Welcome back, sweetheart.” His tiger eyes danced, but he wasn’t smiling. He looked almost…sad. He was seated in a throne-like chair, woven out of golden cane.

Kate gripped his arm, feeling the heat of muscled flesh through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I nearly…” She swallowed. “I don’t know how much longer I have left.”

When Jack smoothed a hand over her hair, the sensation felt both beloved and familiar, as if he’d been doing it for some time. Kate found herself leaning into his touch, like a cat begging for a caress. He pressed his lips lightly to hers. Then he kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose. “Look at me.”

She stared into his burning gaze, drowning. A flush stained his cheeks above the trim beard. “What I said, before at the pool…” He came to a dead halt, clearing his throat.

Kate could barely speak. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Hormone Harlots, perched on the railing of what she realized now was the shady verandah of a palm-thatched bungalow. They appeared to be holding their breath, their wings barely stirring in the balmy air. She knew how they felt.

“Yes?” Her lips formed the word, but no sound came out.

“I’ve never said that to any woman, ever. Never wanted to.”

“Did you mean it?”

Some of the old arrogance resurfaced. His eyes flashed. “Bloody Jack Cavanagh doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.”

Kate pressed closer. “Then say it again.”

Jack balked. “You first.”

“No, you.”

They glared at each other, the air vibrating with tension.

***

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.

Subscribers to my newsletter get to interfere with Kate’s love life. Sign up to join the fun!

Seeing I don’t have any interesting pics of ARRC09 (well, not yet), I feel a bit guilty. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me, so I’m sending you all a group hug.

No matter how bad your day has been….there is nothing like a group hug to brighten your day. Since someone chose to brighten mine, I have decided to return the favour! Thanks Juliean!

Got your breath back? Heh heh.

What I want to know is - who the hell are these guys? I’m sooo curious! And what are they doing standing on a rock stark naked? Apart from posing, I mean.

Don’t think they’re a sports team, like footballers. The body types are all too similar. (No sacrifice is too great for my readers. I’ve studied this photo until my eyes hurt.) Are they male models? Probably. Which is a bit depressing, because the chances are most of them are gay. *sigh*

 What do you think? Let’s have wild speculation! Who are they? And what are they doing there? Are they gay or straight? And would you like to be in a little boat out to sea? With binoculars.