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I feel extremely privileged to have our guest today. Cait Jarrod is not only a terrific author of romantic suspense novels, but she is also someone I call a friend. We met in person this last October at a writer’s conference after months of communicating online and we spent quite a bit of time getting to know one another. When we went our separate ways after the conference, I left feeling like I made a good friend. Cait has a new release from Evernight Publishing entitled Mystic Hearts, book 2 in her Band of Friends series and she’s here giving us some insight into what inspired her to write this series. Welcome, Cait!
Inspiration for the Band of Friends…
A note from Cait:
I’ve often been asked why I chose a circle of friends to write about for my first series.
Bringing a new story about the tight knit group of friends from Fredericksburg, Virginia, was like coming home, especially since I’ve lived in the area all my life. The friends I’ve made over the years, and have continued to keep in touch with, are much like the people in this book—minus the bombs and gunfights. Instead of a weekly cocktail hour, we get together at least once month at a winery, brewery or the lake.
Mystic Hearts, The Band of Friends series, Book 2
Buy on ebook:
Coming soon to print.
Nothing is as it seems….
Temptation landed at Special Agent Larry Newman’s feet—literally. Charlene Smith captured his heart after he rescued her from terrorists two months ago. A failed relationship and being an abused child have turned him into a loner and workaholic. The scars weigh heavy on him and keep him from pursuing her. So what’s a guy to do when the woman he pines for passes out in front of him while working a case?
Battling psychological wounds from abduction is easier than coming face to face with the sexy FBI agent she’s fantasized about for months. A single mother, avoiding the drama that dating would bring to her son’s life, she allows Larry close only in her dreams. Now, she’s second-guessing her decision. Should she have a relationship with this man who makes her feel alive just by being close?
As the couple forges into an abyss of emotions, they plow through secrets and criminals, and fight for the one thing that’s worth fighting for—each other.
Here’s an excerpt from a Cocktail hour, just before the guys arrive. The things good friends say to one another….
“I figured you’d be uptight and would need to blow off steam,” Celine said around a mouthful of margarita.
“Nope. I’m declaring Cocktail Hour an Andrew-free zone,” Charlene said.
Celine choked. “You had sex!”
“Shush!” Pamela’s eyebrows slashed over her blue fierce eyes. “This is a PG establishment.”
“Sorry,” Celine said with a small, mortified smile.
Pamela gazed over her shoulder into the café.
No one watched them except for the bartender. He eyed Celine.
“No foul,” Pamela said then faced Charlene. “Fess up, you have.”
“How’d you two get the idea I had sex from me not wanting to talk about Andrew?”
Celine and Pamela exchanged a silent conspirator glance.
Oh, boy. So, much for wondering if she should talk about Larry, they’d do it for her.
“Larry?” Pamela’s normally welcoming smile transformed into calm tone and she arched an eyebrow at Charlene.
If she hadn’t known Pamela, she’d actually have been nervous and answered immediately. As it was, Charlene would use this time to collect her thoughts and work out what to say. Hanging out on the pier, her and Larry chatting with one another in a way that was so comfortable she felt like she’d done it forever. Well, until her mouth ran away from her and confided her feelings. After that, things between them had become awkward.
Her mind jumped to the kiss next to her mom’s car…phew…she fanned herself and sipped more of her drink to camouflage the heat rising from her body to her face.
“That does it.” Celine gulped her drink. “I want some of what Charlene’s having.”
“Oh, no. You can’t. We’re exclusive.” Charlene looked at her half-empty drink. “This stuff is like truth serum.”
Catch up with Cait:
Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/cait.jarrod
~Sign up for her quarterly newsletters or when a new release comes out at http://caitjarrod.com/contact-cait-andor-signup-for-news-from-cait-newsletter/.
From writing ‘every girl’s dream heroes’ to ‘strong, down-to-earth heroines,’ Cait Jarrod twists ‘cliff hanging plots’ and ‘clever, unpredictable sub-plots’. She loves diving into a good book as much as she loves writing one.
Mother of three gorgeous daughters, she’s married to her best friend, hangs out with the WWC, a great group of women, and loves a good glass of wine.
It’s Friday! And I ❤ Fridays! This Friday is made even better because I have the lovely and very talented Lea Bronsen visiting today with her super hot new release The Perfect Shoot – the first book in her Hot Model Mine series with Evernight Publishing. I’m very excited about this because awhile ago, Lea asked me to read a scene from the book before submission. I had been at my “day job” and should have known better, but I read it! HOT! HOT! HOT! Hard for me to get back to doing my legal things after reading the scene. I’m thoroughly looking forward to reading the entire story! Welcome, Lea!
Thank you so much for having me on your blog!
Who hasn’t been infatuated with a sexy poster boy – actor, pop star, or football hero – even though he was unobtainable? The heroine in my Hot Model Mine series is a thriving author and hard-working mother nearing her forties. Tough, independent, and having long ago lost faith in love, she dismisses her crush on the cover model of her book to protect herself. What then can she do when that gorgeous young man surprisingly falls for her, too?
I hope you enjoy this tale of ‘impossible’ love, dead-honest and written with my heart.
When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for the cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits…
An assistant calls Yushka’s name. Bare-chested, the Asian hunk appears from a group of models, strolls to the spotlights, and waits in front of the camera with the confident stance of a professional.
The whole place quiets as if in awe. He’s unbelievably beautiful with his tanned, bulging muscles and washboard-abs-to-die-for. When photographer Lemaître asks him to undo his hair, a black waterfall lands on his shoulders and down his back. A few muffled feminine squeals fill the silence.
One by one, authors whose books he appears on get a few pictures taken with him in flattering positions, wrapping their arms around his back or swallowed up in his embrace, beaming like schoolgirls at their first prom.
Jealousy rips through me so violently I can barely breathe, but my time is up soon, and I hate that even more. I’m non-photogenic, and seeing pictures of myself makes me sick. I’ve chosen a sexy, black top and matching short skirt for the occasion, but looking my best doesn’t help. My stomach ties in a knot.
“Cindy Vega,” an assistant calls.
Fuck, that’s me. I’m dead.
“Go,” Laurie says, giving me a small push.
All muscles tense, I leave my safe corner and join Yushka. He greets me with a placid face, but from the warmth in his pupils, I get a feeling he’s glad to see me. Side by side, narrowing our eyes from the piercing light, we face Lemaître and wait for orders.
Damn. Being so near Yushka’s naked torso is unbearable, as is the heat from the lamps shining on us. Sweat beads roll down the sides of my chest, between my breasts. He endures, too. A thin film of sweat coats his golden skin, making it glow, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
Lemaître clears his throat. “Bon. Stand a little closer. Cindy, this is for Eden Luna Publishing’s website. Officially, we want authors happily meeting their cover models, but off the record, we want sensual, we want heat. Readers will get off seeing your pictures like they do reading your books.”
Stiff as a rod, I nod agreement. I’d half expected this. Problem is, I hate being in the spotlight with so many people watching, and I hate the notion of having my photo all over the internet.
“Sooo,” he continues, “I will ask you to just stand like this, facing me, and smile. That is all. Yushka knows what he has to do.”
Turning to my side, Yushka puts a hot hand on my stomach and the other on the small of my back. Though light, his touches destabilize me, as does the warm, musky scent sneaking to my nostrils.
“Closer,” Lemaître orders. “Bodily contact.”
Shit, I’m fucked.
The stud radiates heat as he approaches, sweaty chest sticking to my arm, heart beating against my skin. His crotch barely brushes my hip, but each pore in my body becomes acutely aware of him, on high alert. As last night’s intense arousal replays in all of me, my inner thighs clench with renewed want.
Whispers and low chuckles sound from both sides of the vast lobby. I try to forget the hundred eyes following my every move, but can’t help being distracted, bathed in full light and painfully self-conscious.
“That is better.” Like a shooting gun, Lemaître’s camera clicks and the flash blinds me repetitively. “Now, give him a smile, Cindy. You know the kind I want.”
My throat so dry I can’t speak, I turn to Yushka.
He’s very near, inches from my face, black pupils gleaming with mischief. Sweat pearls on his face, making him look sexier than ever. Long, black hairs glue to his forehead and cheeks. He smells of soap, his close shave making him look baby-faced.
Seemingly at ease, the heaving of his chest regular, he stares into my eyes. I can’t believe his confidence. Modelling is his profession, but how does he stay so fucking calm?
“You wanna give me a smile?” he whispers, warm breaths brushing my chin. Behind me, his large hand sneaks lower and palms my butt cheek. With that and his other fingers splaying on my stomach, he pulls me to him, making me feel the entire length and…hardness…of his cock on my hip.
I suck in a breath.
His lips curl up in a self-satisfied grin. “Hm, Andrea? You wanna give me a smile?”
Oh my fucking God. I can’t help but obey while my insides go up in flames.
Flashing his teeth, he kneads my ass with a strong hand and pushes his full erection against me. He knows what he’s doing, the devil. He knows slowly rubbing me with his cock turns my pussy to burning liquid.
Somewhere, a feminine gasp breaks the silence, followed by contained laughter.
“Très bien, we have a smile,” Lemaître says, camera clicking, flash shooting. “Thank you, Cindy, that will be enough. Next!”
Still grinning and holding my look, Yushka slowly backs off, leaving chillier air between us.
I’m frozen. In shock, lust, need.
“Come on, move it!” Lemaître calls. “We don’t have all day.”
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ABOUT LEA BRONSEN:
I like my reads fast, hot, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, erotic contemporary romance, and dripping erotica.
I love to hear from my readers! Send me a mail to email@example.com or meet me on: