Did you know that sex burns off a thousand calories?
It must be true, Killian says so. And a Primani Angel would never lie, would he?
Food or sex? Food or sex? Food or…
Offering me his hand, he bowed and said, “Come, my queen, your feast awaits you.”
Enjoy These sexy excerpts and recipes from Bad Boys spoiling their women
The Lost Soul Trilogy #3
by Laurie Olerich
Mica’s got no options. Sean’s lost his mind. Violent and unstable, he’s teetering on the edge. Desperate to save him from falling, she risks everything she has, including Killian. How far will she go to pull him back? Every step moves her farther away from Killian’s plan. As they work together to save Sean and the rest of the world, she’s haunted by a sense of deja vu that leaves her feeling trapped between two worlds. Which future is the right one?
3,000 years ago, Killian made a promise. Since then, he’s waited for fate to right the wrong that stole his life. The time has come for him to be free, but it’s never that easy. Knowing that Mica’s love is the only weapon against Sean’s demons, he sends her to rescue him. He trusts her completely, but can he trust Sean?
His heart, her soul... Will the promises of angels heal them both?
BARNES & NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stone-angels-laurie-olerich/1119572884?ean=2940045954075
“I bought you a present. Would you like to open me?” I posed provocatively in the doorway.
After my luxurious shower, I’d lathered up in body lotion and slipped on the sheer blue sex magnet. The sapphire fabric draped and clung to my breasts. Three wide ribbons of blue satin wound their way around my rib cage and tied in a little bow just above my pubic bone. The effect was my lean body wrapped up in blue ribbons…like a sexy present. The tiny satin thong didn’t cover much, but looked pretty…To add some modesty for dinner, I’d wrapped a silky blue sarong around my hips. A pair of inky blue stilettos finished off my look. I’d pinned my hair up into long, loose curls like Giselle had shown me.
Killian’s mouth fell open and he blinked at me. A rush of color flooded his face and his lips curled into a sexy smile. He licked his lips and actually growled low in his throat. My entire body jerked towards him, heat flooding me from head to toe. I clutched at the door frame and tried not to shake. He moved towards me, stalking like a jaguar, muscles rolling smoothly under his clothes. Sex dripped from every pore of his body and my knees went weak. My knuckles were white with strain and my heartbeat drowned out every other sound. His grin widened.
Taking his time, he stood just out of reach with one palm cupped in front of me. His eyes caressed every inch of me, lingering in all the important places. The weight of his stare was tangible as his hand drifted in front of my body, not touching, just hovering over my breasts, my ribs, down my belly, over the wisp of the sarong slung low over my hips. His voice purred inside my head as he described everything he wanted to do to me, with me, for me…He didn’t touch me with his hands, but by the time he was done looking, I was seduced. My heart was skipping beats and a bead of sweat ran down my back.
With his palms flat against the wall behind me, he pinned me between his arms and said, “Dinner’s ready.”
Food or sex? Food or sex? Food or…
Offering me his hand, he bowed and said, “Come, my queen, your feast awaits you.”
Food it is then. Grinning at the unexpected playfulness, I regally presented my hand and allowed him to lead me to my seat. He poured the wine and held up his glass.
I touched my glass against his and answered, “Slainte.”
“We have another day in Paris. What would you like to do with it?” he asked while filling my plate for me.
I watched with amusement as he cut up my chicken and tore off a chunk of the warm bread. Who are you and what have you done with Killian? He sat the plate in front of me and picked up a piece of the crispy meat with his fingers. Before I could answer his question, he held the morsel to my lips. I opened my mouth like a baby bird.
Sighing with pleasure, I said, “Mm, that’s so good.”
With a grin, he sliced a piece for himself while I chewed. He slipped another piece between my lips, allowing his fingers to linger longer than necessary. A tingle of electricity wove its way down my spine and I took a calming sip of wine.
What did I want to do with him in Paris, the most romantic city in the world? That had to be a trick question. I mean really. The only thought that came to mind was sex…Of course it was hard to think of anything else with his fingertips brushing my lips and his eyes undressing me. I tried to give him a seductive stare across the table and flinched away at the flash of raw desire in his eyes. He was taking his time right now but those eyes promised no such restraint later. I was having a really hard time eating when I only wanted to drag him to the bed.
“Eat, Princess. You have to get your strength back. Did you know that sex burns off a thousand calories? When you consider your high metabolism, you’ll probably burn triple that much by the end of the night. You’re too weak for that now. Probably we should wait another week or two; just to be safe.”
I stabbed another piece of chicken and made a big show of chewing it up. After swallowing, I said, “You’re not playing fair! I can only eat so much! My stomach’s shrunk.” I speared another bite of chicken and washed it down with mineral water.
He laid his hand over mine and said, “Take your time, baby. We’ve got all night.” He traced the rune on my hand and smiled slowly. “This night’s for you. I’m going to spoil you, so just relax and let me.”
Sweet Potato Casserole
Makes 6 servings.
3 pounds medium-sized sweet potatoes or yams, peeled and cut into 2 inch chunks
1/3 cup half and half
1/4 cup butter, room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup bourbon, more or less to taste (optional)
2 eggs, beaten to blend
3/4 tsp allspice
1/2 cup toasted pecans (optional)
Butter an 8 inch square or 9x11 inch rectangle casserole dish with 2 inch sides. Boil sweet potatoes in water until very soft--about 20 minutes, may take longer. Note: You can also microwave in their skins until super soft or even roast in their skins. Either way, the potatoes have to be really soft before you can process them. Make sure you peel them!
Put potatoes into a food processor. Add rest of ingredients except for the pecans. Process until smooth. I sometimes add a touch more sugar or a little vanilla. Transfer to the baking dish. Smooth the top evenly. You can put this in the fridge at this step and cook later. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 F. Bake casserole until the center is set and top just starts to brown. Usually about 50 minutes. Slightly more if you had it in the fridge. Garnish with the pecans and serve.
Note: I’ve experimented with using brown sugar, adding some molasses, adding cinnamon or nutmeg. I’ve even added some cayenne pepper for a little heat. All taste good. This is the basic recipe. Feel free to customize.
Save With Him
by Tina Bass
Tina is giving away 1 .mobi copy of Safe With Him
Bree Winters grew up distrusting cops and all they stood for, with only her brother to take care of her. After years of being forced to live apart, Bree moves to the small town of Mt. Eve with two goals in mind: to once again have her brother nearby and turn the dream she’s worked years to accomplish into a reality. Now with one goal met and her dream so close, she’s thrust into a situation filled with the things she hates the most…deception, lies, and cops.
Draco Vittore grew up in a life he didn’t want. At a very young age Draco discovered the true meaning of ‘bad guys’ and the type of person he didn’t want to be. Now a Virginia State police officer in their specialty unit, he’s good at two things:being a cop and picking up women—and he’s never had a problem in either department. His rules are simple—be the best damn cop he can be and never bring a woman home.
Until—a chance encounter involving a broken shower, a situation he won’t back down from, and a woman he can’t seem to forget.When Bree's life is threatened with a fate worse than death, Draco will do anything to keep her safe. Will he cross a line he can’t come back from? Or will both of their pasts keep her from being… Safe With Him?
Draco took a step over to the stove and looked down at two of his brand new fry pans. He picked up one of them and tried as hard as he could to figure out what it was that she had been trying to cook, but finally had to ask. “Baby, what the hell is this?”
“Fried eggs,” she answered, but for the life of him, he could not find anything resembling an egg in the pool of black liquid.
“What were you fryin’ the eggs in?”
“How much butter did you use?” He tilted the pan to see…yep, the bottom was completely burnt.
“Just a stick.”
“The whole damn thing?” He took the pan, eggs and all, and dumped it in the trash.
Shaking his head, he picked up the other pan which had a big chunk of…black. “Wanna share what this was?”
“It’s bacon.” She huffed at him.
Grabbing a fork, “Bacon?” he questioned as he stuck the fork in the chunk, or at least tried to. The top might have been burnt to a crisp but it seemed the inside was still frozen. “Did you thaw it?”
“I take that as a no.” Again he looked at the bottom of the pan, which was also burnt, so like the first, he chucked it in the trash as well.
“Dra! You just threw away your frying pans.”
“I messed up your pans?”
He moved to her, stepped in between her legs, and kissed her quick. “Baby, you can’t cook for shit.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll replace them.” She looked around the room for a second like she was lost, then looked back at him. “Today if you take me to the store.”
He turned toward the refrigerator. “Can’t buy them at any store around here. I ordered them.”
“Oh, okay. Well, then, I’ll pay for them. Just tell me how much.”
He had his head stuck in the refrigerator, looking for something easy that he could help her cook. “‘Bout three hundred for the both,” he answered absently.
“Dollars?” she screeched. “Were you high?”
He jerked his head out of the fridge and looked at her. “What?”
“High, as in stoned. As in you had to have been stoned out of your mind to pay three hundred dollars for frying pans.” She tilted her head at him. “Haven’t you ever heard of Walmart?”
Grabbing the milk and butter out of the refrigerator, he turned to her. “Gonna pretend I didn’t just hear you ask, a cop, if I was high. Seein’ as that shit’s still illegal in the state of Virginia.”
“So you paid three hundred dollars on pans? On purpose? Seriously?”
He went to the cabinet, pulled out the flour container. “They’re All-Clad, or they were. Can’t buy that shit at Walmart.”
“But three hundred dollars? As in U.S. dollars?”
“Bree…” he said while pulling sugar and spices out of another cabinet.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll drop it.” But he heard her mumble to herself, “Three? Hundred? Dollars?”
After he sat everything they would need on the counter on the other side of the stove, he went back to her and stood in between her legs. “You like pancakes?” he asked her, his lips close, but not quite, touching hers.
She grabbed two hands full of his hair and pulled his lips to hers. He sunk into her so deep he forgot all about his damn pans, the smoked-up kitchen, everything except…her.
A little later, Draco tried his damnedest to be patient with her. But, after she had spilled the flour, dumped way too much sugar in the bowl, had egg shells in the batter, and now, when he told her to add a little butter to the pan, she again threw the whole damn stick in it with the burner turned on high, causing the hot milk that was already in the pan to splatter on her. That’s it! He pulled her back away from the stove and turned her to face him. “Bree, you see that?” He pointed at the microwave.
“Yeah. That you can use all you want.” He pointed at the stove. “See this?”
“Don’t fuckin’ touch it,” he leaned into her, “for any damn reason.”
“Bree, I’m serious. I kinda figured you didn’t cook much by what you had at your place, but fuck, baby, you really can’t cook for shit.”
“Just because I don’t cook like you doesn’t mean I can’t cook, or use a stove.”
“Yeah? How do you fix pancakes?”
“The microwave,” she mumbled so low he could barely hear her.
He cupped his ear. “What was that?” He couldn’t resist teasing her.
“I said the microwave. And they’re good. Probably just as good as yours and all I have to do is take them out of the freezer and pop ‘em in the microwave. Thirty seconds later…bam! Pancakes.”
“You think your frozen pancakes are just as good as mine?”
He grinned at her. “Wanna bet on that?”
“Uh…bet? Like money?”
He shook his head in the negative, still grinning. “Money’s too simple. Something more…I’m thinkin’,” he ran his eyes down the length of her, then back up to her eyes, “fun.”
“Fun, uh, like the loser has to…hummm…do a strip tease?”
He hadn’t thought about that but, watching Bree dance and strip? “Fuck. Yeah,” he readily agreed.
“Okay. Bet,” she agreed, and she stuck out her hand to shake on it.
He grabbed her hand and gave her a tug. “We don’t shake on it.” She fell into him, and he kissed her. He picked her up and sat her back on the counter before he set out to make the best damn pancakes he had ever made.
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk, warmed
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 vanilla bean—cut down the middle and scraped out (use small beans and paste)… the pod of the vanilla bean can be kept in sugar jar to give your sugar a vanilla taste for your next cup of coffee.
In a bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. In another bowl, combine the egg, warmed milk, oil, and vanilla bean. Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients and stir just until combined. In a lightly greased skillet, drop batter by 1/4 cupfuls; press lightly to flatten. Fry until golden brown, about 2 minutes on each side. Serve with syrup. Yields 2 servings.
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