Romantic suspense fiction is my thing, but the truth is that I love writing a diverse range of subjects. Whether I'm writing about love on the run in KISS ME SLOWLY, revenge and murder in RIPTIDE, wounded marines and human trafficking in RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT, starting life over after suicide in my memoir FREE FALL, or new beginnings and adventure in my fun contemporary romance novella ANONYMITY,
I'm a happy lady livin' the dream.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Happy Easter! New chapters of IN BETWEEN will post on Monday, April 21

Because it's Easter weekend, I anticipate many of you spending time with your families, enjoying yourselves, and not being online. I'm going to hold off and post two chapters of IN BETWEEN on Monday, April 21. HAVE A WONDERFUL TIME! 

Amber Lea Easton

All chapters are here in case I'm wrong and you are looking to catch up: 

Thursday, April 17, 2014

#Romance advice from Phantom Bigfoot--you gotta read this! #asmsg

Phantom Bigfoot & The Vampettes from Venus
By Simon Okill

Welcome to Big Beaver, home of Duane Dexter aka Phantom Bigfoot. Teen superhero, Duane, must get Sheriff Lou and Agent Virgil hitched on orders of the alien Elders. Simple enough! But not for Phantom Bigfoot and Guardian of the forest, who manages to screw things up just when he least expects it.

And when he least expects it, Duane is rendered helpless as a new menace invades Big Beaver in the shape of a punk band - The Vampettes from Venus. It soon transpires these Vampettes are not your ordinary gals from outa town. Duane and his close friend, MB, know space vampires when they see them.

So Phantom Bigfoot with his trusty sidekick, MB, fight these insidious vampires head on in a free-for-all, no-holds-barred struggle. Will Duane save the day yet again or will these sexy Vampettes drink Big Beaver dry?

#Teen Humour #Urban Fantasy #Teen Romance #Action/Adventure

Paranormal author Simon Okill lives in a South Wales coastal town with his wife where he is currently writing about the crazy adventures of Phantom Bigfoot and his tribe of Bigfoot Babes. Phantom Bigfoot & The Vampettes from Venus is book #2 of his YA adventure series, Phantom Bigfoot Series, to be followed by Phantom Bigfoot & The Haunted House. Book #1 is already out there - Phantom Bigfoot Strikes Again. Simon has also written two other books, all available on Amazon - Luna Sanguis and Luna Aeturnus, dark Gothic romance set in France 1925 as well as several screenplays.

Moments later Duane and MB tried the front door of the Bruger house. Of course it was locked. They hammered at the door.
Duane turned around sensing trouble and wished he hadn’t. Hovering a few feet above MB like a giant red bat was that raven-haired Vampette with the freaky hairdo, mouth open wide, tongue licking large fangs.
“I am Vampirella. I care not for neither of you fellas,” the Vampette sang her words like that punk rocker Sid Vicious, screeching out the syllables with a high-pitched hiss.
What did she mean she cared not for neither of them? His sixth sense told him she didn’t want their blood because they weren’t virgins. Did that mean they were safe from the Vampette’s fangs? Yeah it would seem so, Duane hoped.
“From somewhere within the deep, you cannot resist the need to sleep,” Vampirella screeched her song.
Duane cautioned himself to be wary. Her singing had made him feel a little hazy. The Vampette was obviously using some kind of insidious mind control on them with her lyrics.
The Vampette drifted towards Duane on her red cape wings and stopped less than a few inches from him, her fangs just a millimeter from his bare neck. Duane’s stomach gurgled with fear but strangely enough he didn’t feel like barfing. He stood his ground.
“Chosen by The Elders you have been. The Guardian of the forest I have seen,” Vampirella sang harshly.
“Go to hell!” Duane said, glancing at MB cowering behind him for protection.
“What does she mean by The Guardian of the forest?” MB asked as if those might be his last words.
Vampirella didn’t reply. She cocked her head then sang, “Vermillia … Venusa … Vixenella … come join me.”
The other three punk Vampettes floated down from the roof under their red cape wings and landed silently before Duane and MB.
“Beau is pure, Beau is sweet, he is our lure, he is our treat,” Vampirella and the other three Vampettes sang like demented sirens.
Duane and MB backed up to the front door and hammered to be let in, both shouting, “Let us in for fuck’s sake. Let us in!”

Learn how to cook - and I mean cook - not French fries and steak - any dufus can do that. There’s nothing that says you love your mate than cooking a romantic meal. Say Spinach Souffle for instance. Ha-ha! There’s always one wisenheimer who says, “Spinach Souffle for instance.” The reason I mention this meal is it is too delicious for words to describe, and not only that, but when those pesky bits of spinach stick to your mate’s teeth you can lick them off which leads to you-know-what. Now we come to dessert. Yoghurt. Any flavour will do and don’t eat it all as it comes in handy for after dessert you-know-what. Great fun to lick off your mate’s you-know-whatsits.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Sexxxxxxy cover reveal for September Again…LOVE IT! #romance #asmsg

It's release day and we're celebrating with this sexy cover reveal. I love it! 

About the book…
Hunter S. Jones
An Anonymous English Poet

According to Cherokee beliefs, opportunity will bless you twice.
September Again, second in the series, September Stories, is the follow up to the hugely popular indie sensation, September Ends. September Again finds Liz Snow Savage leaving England. She follows her daughter Zelda Savage back to America after Zelda’s betrayal of her. More drama ensues as Liz looks for meaning in life while Zelda finds her direction after the tragedy of losing Jack O. Savage, The Poet. Set mainly in Chattanooga, Tennessee, September Again chronicles the rhythm of life's cycles. The ebb and flow of love unravel the mystery of Liz's past. September Again allows a further glimpse into the intricate web of passion and desire which have entangled Liz Snow, Pete Hendrix and Jack O. Savage for years. Will a chance encounter finally reveal the truth?  What act will change the destiny of Liz and Zelda forever? The story of sin, salvation and redemption continues in Book 2 of the September Stories, told through a mosaic of prose with a smattering poetry.
Magic happens when you least expect it.

Don't miss out! Get your copy ASAP! 

Find out more about Ms. Jones here...

Monday, April 14, 2014

My Writing Process #BlogHop #Romance #ASMSG

My Writing Process

This particular blog hop is all about authors offering others a glimpse into their work, their work schedules, and perhaps their innermost thoughts. Some of us are quite opposite our real life personas.

Many thanks to the wonderfully talented Cynthianna Mathews who tagged me. She's a brilliant fantasy and contemporary romance author who writes stories with heart and humor! Thanks, Cynthianna! 
Q. What am I working on?
I'm finishing up edits for my next romantic suspense novel, Dancing Barefoot. Jessica Moriarty has it all--good friends, successful career as an architect, excellent apartment in a prime location--but it all feels hollow. Five years ago she abandoned the love of her life and her dreams of being an artist in order to follow the path expected of her. But the past has a way of sneaking up on a person when she leasts expects it. Jacques Sinclair is in town and she's presented with a second chance at love. Someone doesn't want that to happen, though, and will go to any lengths to stop her, including arson, conspiracy, and murder. Will she find the courage to break free of the past and, if so, will she survive to make the choice that's best for her? 
Q. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I am not a cookie cutter romance novelist. Reviewers often say my work crosses genres, that the plot lines are smart as if torn from the headlines, and that my work is fueled with emotion. 
Q. Why do I write what I do?
I love being able to create worlds where I control the outcome. I love romance because I know that, no matter what hell my characters endure during the story, there will be a happy ending. It's the challenge of getting them there that really turns me on. How will they overcome these internal and external conflicts in a realistic way? Who are the secondary characters in their world and how do they impact the main characters? It's all riveting to me. I love writing romantic suspense as much as I love reading it. Knowing that I can make someone smile when they turn that last page makes the challenge worthwhile. 
Q. How does your writing process work?
I write. Period. I allow the first draft to flow out of me like a river breaking free of a dam. I don't censor it. I let it go. Then the work begins with revision after revision until I have sculpted it into the story I need it to be. The first draft is merely a skeleton, the revisions make it whole. 
Q. Who will we meet next week?
You will meet Dakota Skye, paranormal erotic romance author. What would you do if your lover returned as a ghost? Yeah, it's complicated. Sierra never thought she'd be in a love triangle with a ghost!
You will also meet sexy Celine Chatillon! If you love hot historical romance, you'll love her.
You'll also meet Tammy Dennings Maggy, author of sexy, edgy, dark erotica that will pushes boundaries. You won't want to miss The Surrender of Julia! 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

What dreams are made of…Bella Italia! Ch. 9 Blog excl #romance series "IN BETWEEN"

A Blog Exclusive Novel
Copyright Amber Lea Easton 2014
One chapter will publish every Sunday thru May, all chapter links are below
"IN BETWEEN"…a love story.
Previous chapters if you need to catch up: 
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three 
Jessica Moriarty has finally broken away from her responsible life for five months of indulging her passion for art in Florence, Italy. When she meets sexy photographer, Jacques Sinclair, every fantasy she'd ever had is surpassed by reality. Passion rules her. Passion to paint, to love, to live, to  soak up the moment.

Jacques is a real life wanderer, meant to roam the world with nothing but his cameras and his creativity. When he meets Jessica, he believes he has finally found his other half, a woman who knows what it's like to be truly free. 

Despite the passion they share, responsibilities pull Jessica toward reality. Does she have what it takes to live for love and art? Or will the need for security and stability pull them apart? 

A blog exclusive novel, "In Between" is a prequel to the contemporary romance/romantic suspense novel, "Dancing Barefoot," that releases in May 2014. That being said…the answer to the above question may not be as clear cut as you'd expect. 

Chapter Nine is here and now (Adult Content Warning)
Leaning over the sketch, black hair veiling her face, Jessica tuned out all of the other activity in the room and knelt over the pad making last minute changes. Ava pinned pieces of pattern on Simone's partially nude body. Music filtered through the room while a steady breeze from the wide open windows stirred the loose patterns on the floor.
After a sell-out at the flea market in Florence, Ava had decided to tackle Rome next week, which meant everyone pitching in to make more clothes. Carter had decided to stay—and although he didn't admit to the reason why, Jessica felt confident it was because there was something between him and Ava. Of course, she had romance on the brain these days so liked to think of everyone being in love.
"You are stabbing me mercilessly," Simone whined from where she stood in the middle of the room, arms outstretched.
"Such a cry baby for a supermodel," Ava snapped from between clenched teeth that held a dozen pins.
"The shoot in the Bahamas did go well, Ava, you should have been with me instead of here doing all of this."
Jessica rolled her eyes, grateful for the veil of hair that hid her expression. Ever since Simone had returned from her photoshoot with Sports Illustrated, that is all any of them had heard about.  
"Why did you come back?" she asked without looking up from the sketch in front of her. Not liking the harshness of the new lines on the gown she'd tweaked for Ava, she used her thumb to smooth out the charcoal.
"Jacques sounded lonely when he emailed me, said something about wishing he weren't trapped in Italy." Simone's gaze slid to hers when she looked up. Always taunting her with Jacques, as if she could smell insecurity. "I felt sorry for him so I—Ava!" She flinched when Ava stabbed her with another pin.
"Sorry." Ava smiled despite the gritted teeth holding the pins. "Stop talking and be still. I need to get this just right."
"It is insane, all of this rushing. I would have stayed in New York if I'd known all of this was going on back here."
"Too bad Jacques didn't tell you in his email." Jessica smiled at the other woman before pushing herself into standing and looking around at the mess of dresses stacked over the backs of furniture.
"What email?" Jacques asked, arms full of reems of yellow and red fabric.
"No more errands," Carter said, dropping the bags in his hands onto the countertop. "I could be in Africa right now."
"Yes, yes, you are all very important people with more glamorous places to be, so go." Ava waved her hand at them without looking up from the seam she created along Simone's hip.
Impressed that the woman could speak a coherent sentence with a mouthful of pins, Jessica walked to her side, carefully stepping over the cut patterns laying on the floor. "Let me help you. I have no other place to be."
Ava met her gaze and winked before focusing on her work. When the shutter of a camera flickered behind them, they both sighed. Jacques and his camera, always documenting every second of their lives.
Carter handed Simone a glass of wine before walking around them in a slow circle. Even though he had delayed his trip, he would be leaving tonight. It was either leave now or lose his position on the documentary he would go.
"How many do you need to have before Rome?" he asked.
"I want a dozen of each pattern." Ava used the last pin before standing back to admire her work. "Jessica and I have created the final one today."
"You are a fashion designer now?" Carter looked at her, his smile forever contagious.
"She merely changed a few lines, I saw what she did and did not do," Simone quickly responded before slowly bending her arm to sip the wine.
Amused at both Simone's response and the way Jacques crept around the room taking pictures of them, she ignored Carter's question and handed Ava a scissors.
"There is no way you're going to get all of this done before you leave." Carter crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the madness of color strewn about the apartment. "You are not a fashion house, Ava."
"That is what I have been saying," Simone said, smiling for Jacques' camera.
"You have a smudge." Carter motioned toward Jessica's face, humor flashing in the depth of his brown eyes. "Every time I see you, there is either paint or charcoal on your face."
Suddenly self-conscious, she rubbed a hand over her cheek before realizing it was the same hand that had caused the problem. Sighing, she used the hem of her already stained t-shirt to clean off her hand. "Oh well. It's what I do."
She glanced up at Simone's model perfect face and fought back the doubt. The other woman had made it clear she intended to be with Jacques once Jessica left for the States and, with her model's income and flexibility, she knew it would be true. But for now...for now she had three more months left in Florence and he seemed to enjoy her messy face more than the picture perfect one.
"It looks good on you." Carter knelt down over the sketch she'd finished and nodded. "These are good, not that I know anything about fashion, but I like it."
"For God's sake, Jacques, stop taking pictures and do something productive." Ava spun around and pointed a scissors at him. "Do I look like I want my picture taken?"
Hair up on the top of her head in an absurd ponytail slash bun combination, face devoid of makeup, and dressed in a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top, Ava managed to pull off drop-dead-gorgeous. Must be genetics, Jessica thought as she let her gaze slip to Jacques who laughed before setting his camera aside.
"Are you coming to Roma with us, Simone?" he asked in that lazy way of his that made her think of sex. Then again, everything he did and said made her think about sex.
"I am, yes, but then I leave for London. Why don't you come with me? Aren't you tired of Florence yet?" Simone pushed her chest out a bit more beneath the thin paper of the pattern, her enjoyment at being the center of attention in the room glaringly obvious.
"Not yet." He smiled, leaned his back against the wall, and crossed his ankles. "How are we going to get all of this to Rome? Jessica and I are taking the bike down. We have plans for afterward."
Plans were news to her, but she'd roll with it. She'd come to anticipate his whims and had benefited from them every time.
"I don't want to hear about your plans." Carter covered his ears. "I will be slaving away while you are all partying in Rome. Life is not fair."
"Plans?" Simone's gaze slid to hers. "Do you realize half of your face is streaked with black?"
"Carter told me." She smiled at the redhead who had somehow convinced herself that she was a contender for Jacques' heart.
"And you're not doing anything about it?" Simone asked.
"I wiped my hand on my shirt so I won't dirty the fabrics, what else do you want me to do? I'm sure Jacques will help me out in the shower later."
Ava laughed to herself before gently removing the pattern from Simone's picturesque body.
She met Jacques' gaze from across the room and realized that these were the moments she would remember for the rest of her life. Here in this apartment building in Florence surrounded by dreamers who believed in possibility and hope would be memories she would smile about when she was old and gray and thinking of youth.
"Ava Sinclair Originals," Carter muttered. "You'll be the host of the fashion world one day and it's all starting here."
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Ava stepped back from the pattern she'd laid out on the cutting table—also known as the kitchen table. "Ava Sinclair Originals. I like it, but Jessica should get some credit, too."
"Oh, no, this is all you. I just tweaked a few lines, that's all."
Hands on her hips, Ava smiled at her with a slow nod. "One will will all happen for us. You will be my special guest at New York's fashion week."
"We will all be there." Jacques didn't take his gaze off of hers. "What a celebration that will be, yes?"
"Speaking of New York, my agent told me that I am in demand." Simone sauntered toward the kitchen wearing only her thong, her bare breasts perfectly perky. "I cannot decide if I want an apartment there or in London. What do you think, Jacques?"
Not looking at the other woman, Jacques winked at Jessica. "Would you help me with something or are you too busy here to get away?"
"Go, do, come back later. I have Carter here for a few more hours...and Simone." Ava didn't look up from the pattern.
Ignoring Simone and everyone else in the room, she took his hand and carefully manuevered over the various piles that lined the floor all the way to the door. Once into the hallway, she blew out the long breath she'd been unconciously holding. Simone pushed her last nerve.
Instead of going to their apartment, he led her toward the stairs.
"Where are we going?"
"Away from here." He smiled over his shoulder. "Too many people, too much going on, too noisy."
"But I'm a mess."
He stopped on the stairs and pulled her against him. Using his thumb, he rubbed away the smudge on her cheek. "There. No more mess. Come away with me, Jess. Save my sanity. Between my sister and Simone, I am ready to kill someone."

She couldn't argue that. The past week had been a flurry of activity and Simone's return to Florence had irked her more than she had admitted to anyone.
She stopped short at the sight of her backpack and sketchpad strapped to the back of his bike. "Where are we going?"
"Simone is driving us both mad, am I right?" He handed her a helmut, his knowing gaze transmitting more understanding than she'd expected.
"But Carter—"
"I don't say goodbye to people I know I will see again." He patted the seat behind him. "Come on. He helped me get all of this ready. He is okay with us leaving. You didn't come to Italy to be Ava's assistant. Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Laughing, she gladly took her place behind him.
"Does it matter?"
"Not even a little bit." She wrapped her arms around his chest and glanced up at the balcony where Carter stood and watched them with a smile. "Let's go."
She could get used to leaving places on a whim without any plan. Smiling, she enjoyed the ride through the city and watched the countryside unfold around them once they were out of Florence.
Siena. She recognized the medieval hillside town from all of the travel books she'd read prior to coming here. A laugh welled up within her gut and bubbled out. Damn, Jacques knew her too well considering she said very little about herself.
The Mangia Tower soared above the ancient city, giving away its identity by its sheer majesty. Already her fingers itched to draw it all and her feet ached to walk through the streets.
Jacques parked in front of a small hotel, which is when she realized they weren't only spending the day, but the night as well.
"Why rush it?" he asked as if reading her mind.
"You're amazing." Stepping from the bike, she smoothed her hands over his chest before gripping his shoulders. "Do you think we can check in early and take a shower?"
"That is the plan." He winked, grabbed their backpacks while she took her sketchpad and his cameras. "I have called ahead."
"A man with a plan, I love it."
"Is that the only thing you love about me?" He asked without looking at her, but she knew, or at least suspected, that he wanted to hear the words 'I love you' from her lips.
But she couldn't say that, not yet, not when everything felt so uncertain. 'I love you' would be a promise of a future, of a life she couldn't commit to yet or maybe ever.
Lost in her own thoughts, she wandered the lobby while he checked in. Everything in Italy felt like a museum to her. All the artwork seemed touched with magic, all the buildings infused with genius, all the people born from legend.
Alone in the room, she laid her sketchpad and his cameras on the table before walking as if in trance to the small balcony overlooking the town square.
He stood a fraction behind her, his chin rested on top of her head while his hands slipped beneath the hem of her ratty t-shirt she'd forgotten she wore. Fingers skimmed over her abdomen before moving up to cup her breasts.
"I hope you brought me a change of clothes, I forgot—"
" think too much." His thumbs circled her nipples until they were hard.
She clenched the railing of the balcony, the breeze caressing the bare skin of her face and arms, and looked down at the people below them. "Anyone can see us if they look up."
"And what will they see? Two lovers loving one another? What is so bad about that?" He nuzzled her neck before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.
One hand remained on her breast while the other toyed with the zipper of her shorts. Although the balcony was lined with flowers of every kind, she knew it wouldn't take much imagination for someone to figure out what was happening on the balcony and she didn't want to end up in an Italian prison.
"We should—"
"You are too worried about shoulds and should nots. Close your eyes. Feel me."
When he dropped his hand from her breast to use both to work her shorts down her legs, she gripped the railing a bit tighter and looked around them. On the top floor of the hotel with the bustling activity below them in broad daylight, she stood bare assed as he pushed her hair aside and kissed the side of her neck.
"I have missed you."
She smiled and swiveled her head to meet his lips. "You are with me every day."
"We have had too much company. Carter knows no boundaries with his coming and going." He kissed her, one hand again reaching beneath her shirt to claim her breast.
Tongues clashed as he spread her legs wide with his thigh. When he thrust himself inside her, she pushed her hips back to meet him. Breaking the kiss, she dropped her head forward and closed her eyes. Hands gripped the railing tighter with each thrust. She loved the sensation of him filling her up.
He grabbed her hips with both hands and fucked her—hard—in full view of the ancient city of Siena and she didn't give a damn who noticed, if they did.
She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She slapped her ass back with as much force as he slammed inside of her. Sensations overwhelmed her...Jacques inside of her, the sound of the tourists four stories beneath them, the scent of the flowers shielding them, and the breeze kissing her face.
She felt more alive than she'd ever been and, if the world ended this minute, she'd die a happy woman with no regrets. When he lightly bit the back of her shoulder and his body shuddered against hers, she tossed her head back and laughed at the sky. 
"I'm not going to be able to say goodbye to you either," he whispered against her hair, his words sobering her. "You know that, don't you?"
She did know that. With a sigh, she twisted her head and kissed him, her hair tangling between their lips.
"Stay with me, Jessica. We can make it work," he whispered against her lips.
"Wrong time to ask me anything." She moved her hips with him still inside of her and grinned.
"Best time. Tell me that you'll stay, even if it's a lie." His fingers tangled in the strands of her hair that tossed in the wind.
"I'll stay," she said because she wanted it to be true. For this one minute of time she wanted it all—Jacques, his free lifestyle, embracing being an artist, his crazy friends, all of it.
He slipped himself from her, turned her around, and yanked her hard against his chest. "We can make this work, all you need to do is believe in us."
Oh, she believed in him. She'd seen him at work, witnessed his passion, knew he could accomplish anything he dreamed. That wasn't the problem, not even close.
Conscious of her bare ass facing the street, she peeled herself from his arms and picked up her discarded shorts. High from an orgasm and the rush of telling him she would stay, she walked into the room and collapsed onto the bed. He fell next to her, also on his back, and stared at the ceiling.
Their hands linked between their bodies on the mattress.
"I'm an architect," she whispered. "I worked hard for that but..."
"But?" He turned his head and looked at her.
"I want to stay with you," she choked out the words and blinked back the sudden tears. That wasn't a lie. Why did the truth hurt so much? "I don't want to lose you."
He squeezed her fingers. "It's possible to have it all. I'm not asking you to stop being an architect or to not return to Boston. I have never been there...I might like it."
She laughed at the idea of him coming home with her, but then the smile faded when she realized how complicated that could be. "My mom is an alcoholic. She's been divorced four times and I have no idea where my real dad is. I take care of her. I'm all she has."
He remained quiet for a heartbeat too long as if absorbing the fact that she had not only finally confessed a personal detail about her family, but that what she confessed wasn't the prettiest of pictures.
"Are you afraid of what she would think of me?" he asked after a long silence.
She met his gaze, confused about his question. "What do you mean?"
"I'm a Frenchman and all..." His smile widened.
"You're Belgian." She rolled over and leaned on his chest. "Believe me, there's a difference."
"Thank you for noticing." He arched an eyebrow, his smile wicked. "All I care about is that you don't want to say goodbye either, the rest will fall into place."
"You're such an optimist."
"I love you, Jessica Moriarty. Let's let that be enough." He patted her bare butt before easing from beneath her. "Come on. We are wasting daylight. You want to sketch and I want to take photographs. Siena awaits."
She watched him walk away, once again thinking that keeping him naked needed to be a priority in her life. Smiling at the fact that she had told the truth—finally—about her mother and the fact that she wanted to stay with him and the world hadn't ended.

Freedom felt damn good. She leapt from the bed and peeled off her t-shirt when she heard the shower. Daylight could wait.

* * *
Chapter 10 and 11 will post on April 21! (time off for Easter break--enjoy!)