Saturday, December 5, 2015

The Curiosity Shoppe by Rayne Forrest

Welcome to the 120th week of the My Sexy Saturday blog hop! This week's theme is A Sexy Galaxy and I've got a few. I love writing science-fiction. It's such fun to create a universe where you're the one who makes the rules. Today it's about an alien named Semele who broke the rules and traveled a long way to find her man. And Zeb's glad she did! 

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from The Curiosity Shoppe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“We are not married. Marriage can be dissolved. The bonding cannot. I am yours, Zebadiah. It remains to be seen if you will become mine.” She pressed her bottom down into his lap again. His eyes crossed.
She jerked upright, her spine straight. She blinked wide green eyes at him. “Have I misunderstood that …” she looked at the pronounced bulge he sported, “that is an indication of desire to mate in a human male?”
“Oh, jeez.” What had he gotten himself into? He tapped her nose lightly with his index finger. “Now listen, wife.”
She treated him to that wide-eyed blink again.
“I’m going to try to survive kissing you again. No talking. No sending me subliminal messages. No reading my mind. No hands on my crotch. Got it?”
She blinked several times. Then she smiled.
            Not a welcoming, friendly, pleased, happy smile - oh no. Not a smile of compliance - not her. She smiled like the cat who just ate the canary in the old nursery rhyme his gran had told him. “I understand, Zebadiah. You must lead.”

THE CURIOSITY SHOPPE

Available now at All Romance eBooks
www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thecuriosityshoppe-1913989-340.html

 More about The Curiosity Shoppe:



Cajun Zebadiah LaCroy is a long way from home. Infected with a bad case of wanderlust, Zeb’s been working on an intergalactic merchant ship. He’s seen all manner of strange worlds and stranger beings. When his ship docks at Station Janus, Zeb searches for a gift for his sister back home and finds more than he bargained for. Come and see, a female voice calls telepathically to him. Never one to be able to deny his innate curiosity, Zeb can’t resist. He’s caught in her spell.

When he finally sees her, hears her say his name, Zeb knows Semele is telling him the truth. They are bonding exclusively to each other. For the bonding to be complete, they must mate. The only thing is, she’s not quite human.

Rayne Forrest

www.rayneforrest.com
http://rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest



Be sure to check out all the My Sexy Saturday blogs using the link below.




Wednesday, December 2, 2015

IWSG - Christmas multi-tasking

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group


Silver Bells.
Silent Night.
The Holly & the Ivy.
Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Christmas Eve and Other Stories.

Christmas is a fun time of year. All the lights, the sparkle, the music (old and new), the hustle and bustle of shopping. The time I have for myself, that is to say time to even think about writing, gets squeezed down to minutes a week. I understand it, but I don’t always like it much. 

Time was, I tried to force everything into a day. The old adage is “write something every day.” That really doesn’t work for me, but oh, I did try. I thought I was the queen of multi-tasking. It didn’t work, except if you call walking away from writing as Rayne Forrest a good thing. It wasn’t.

I gave up on the idea of extreme multi-tasking. I don’t have to work, take care of my partner, parents, friends and write every day. Do I compartmentalize my life? Yes, I do. Is that a good thing? Perhaps not, but it keeps me sane.

With the Christmas season upon us, I know it’s time to concentrate on family and friends. Some of those friends are other writers and readers so I don’t abandon the Internet to be with family, but I do deliberately divide out my time.

When I first deliberately didn’t write, it was mentally difficult. I’d made plans with a friend to go Christmas shopping for the day. It started to snow so we cut our day short. I suddenly had time to write. The thing was, I was tired. I flopped in front of the television. And that’s when the guilt started picking at me.

Long story short, I overcame the guilty feelings and continued to relax. And you know what? The sky didn’t fall and I learned this lesson - I don’t have to cram multiple activities into one short day. There really is time for me to enjoy the holiday season and that’s what I plan to do.

I plan to be deliberate with seeing family and friends. I’ve planned time for baking cookies, decorating, a little shopping, and yes, a little writing - just not all at once. With any luck, by the time Epiphany rolls around, my house and life will be all squared away for the New Year, all without driving myself crazy.
- - - -

To all the participants of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group - A very merry Christmas and holiday season! May your traditions bring you comfort and joy.

Rayne

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Simple country pleasures - the tufted titmouse

It's Thanksgiving morning and meal preparations are well underway. We've fixed a few turkey dinners so the division of labor is established. We're not quite a "well-oiled machine" but we do okay. This Thanksgiving morning, we have a flock of distractions. That is to say there is a flock of Tufted Titmouse birds in the backyard. 

Enter the cat. 

The cat is very interested in the birds. He's stalking them, as a matter of fact. The birds are, so far, alert to his presence and he's not getting very far with his little cat mission. This is a good thing. 

The bad thing is I'd love to feed the birds so they and other species hang out here over the winter, but I'm not sure if I should. I'm sure the CAT would love it, but I don't like it when he kills small critters. I know it's just his nature. My grandma used to say, "a cat's a cat and that's that." She was correct. 

So maybe I will scatter feed for the birds this year. The way of nature is the old and weak fall, not the young and healthy. I think I can be content for the birds to be birds and the cat to be a cat. 

But as for today, it looks like the cat will have to settle for enjoying a few tidbits of turkey and be satisfied with that. 

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Of insistent muses - she said "blog" and here I am

Ah, the insidious little voice. You know the one. That persistent, annoying whisper only you can hear. We all have one. Call it the devil on your shoulder or your muse. Call it worse than that if you want. Heck, I won’t stop you. I generally refer to mine as my muse and she’s such a whiner! For 2015 she's been prattling on about blogging more regularly until I gave in and said I would try. 

It was basically a lie to myself, but here I am. Searching for something to blog about. 

I’m not sure what my topic should be today, although this past week certainly provided fodder. Everywhere I turn there's something going on. From the atrocity in Paris to Matt Kenseth standing his ground (yea!), news abounds. But this is supposed to be a blog about the writing and the author behind it. 

I’ve been busy writing this past week. Very busy. My alter ego finished a manuscript and turned it in - WITH the forms. That's not a small feat. I needed to get that finished and clear the decks for Thanksgiving. This year, I'm fixing both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners for us and my mother and stepfather. It's not a hardship. I have a plan, and my beloved is onboard to help. 

Today is the last NASCAR race of the 2015 season, and I plan to watch most of it. It's Jeff Gordon's last race, and while I'm not precisely a Gordon fan, I have no trouble admitting he's had a stellar career. While the race is on, my partner and I will finalize the game plan for Thanksgiving and Christmas cooking. Christmas is easier because I have the day before off work, but all will be fine. 

So here it is. I’ve completed my exercise in self-discipline and blogged on schedule. Thankfully, the muse didn't insist my blogging be cohesive, or even on point. See ya next time around. Have a great day! 

Rayne Forrest

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Saturday, November 21, 2015

Across Time for #MSS119 (My Sexy Saturday)

Welcome to another My Sexy Saturday. My Sexy Saturday is a weekly blog hop that brings you sexy excerpts from a wide variety of today's authors. This week I'm highlighting Across Time. Enjoy!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


“I am dreaming.” He rolled over to face her. Her hair was mussed and her face flushed with sleep. She was beautiful. “You’re talking about something we did together.

“You didn’t pack coffee then, so I figured you’d forget this time, too. Now get up and make a fire.”

“Nope. I’m not dreaming. She’s giving me orders.” Before Corri could answer, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. He was awake now. Very awake.

She pushed against him, rolling him onto his back. His hands stroked down her spine and cupped her rounded bottom. She shifted to straddle him. His body throbbed all over. He got a little hurried in the mornings if he thought he was getting laid, and she knew it.

“No foreplay?” He thrust up as she slid down over the fullness of his erection. She smiled at him and rose until the tip of his cock was barely inside her. Then she slowly eased down again.

Again and again she gave him that devastating pleasure until he couldn’t keep from moaning aloud each time she rose over him. He reached for her breasts, and she batted his hands away.

“Go over for me, Devin. Let me watch you. I want to see it happen to you.” She tightened her inner walls around him. “Go over.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Across Time is available at Amber Quill Press
http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/1954-Across-Time.aspx

More about Across Time:


Corri Dunn’s mission to distant Adhara VII begins on a downhill slide. Not only have her superiors withheld vital information, but Devin Tremaine knows what it is. Corri must face Devin, and what happened between them five years ago, or lose her command. Confronting the truth means facing the fact she still loves Devin. She wants him back in her life, and her bed, but she has to complete her assignment first.

Devin Tremaine made one big mistake in his life—he lost Corri Dunn when she needed his understanding and he couldn’t give it. Now they’re both at Adhara VII, caught in a web of deceit—and renewed passion. Corri’s been sent into a trap and he’s the only one who can save her.

The secrets of Adhara VII unlock their past, present and a future fast unraveling. To survive, Corri and Devin must make a leap of faith—across time.


 Be sure to visit all the My Sexy Saturday blogs using the list below.

Rayne Forrest
rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest





Wednesday, November 4, 2015

IWSG- Try a Little Tenderness

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group


Ooh, she may be weary, young girls they do get weary…

I’m dating myself with a song reference from Three Dog Night. It was a big hit in 1969, and is actually on my “car” playlist. Is it because I get weary? Probably.

There’s a good kind of weary you get when you play hard, or even work hard at something you enjoy. It’s the kind of weary that makes you happy and grateful. You fall into bed at the end of the day with a smile on your face.

But there’s a different kind of weary, the kind you get when confronted by the worst of life. Funerals, divorce, illness, friendships gone awry, betrayal. There’s not a lot to cure that kind of weary, only time.

We’ve all been on both sides and when bad things happen, and we’re searching for answers, I think we forgot one important thing. We forget to be kind to ourselves. Instead, we blame ourselves and try to push through being weary to do more.

It’s nearly impossible to write your best prose when weariness sets in. Sure, some people can really tap into how bad they feel and spew it all over the page. It’s not something I like to read so I don’t do it. If I’m exhausted, I try a little tenderness on myself.

I’m not afraid to turn off the computer and rest. When I need it, I take time to get my head back on straight. I’ve learned that if I want to write a good story, I’ve got to take care of myself. And I learned it the hard way when my husband had cancer, so I’m not just pontificating.

It’s important to me to do the best I can on each story. I’ve found that if I stay tapped in to how I’m feeling, I write better. I plot better. I set the scene better. It really pains me to spend an evening writing only to have to go back the next night and delete what I wrote. It doesn’t happen often because I’ve learned an important truth - weary doesn’t make for a good writer.

Rayne
www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

Saturday, October 31, 2015

All Hallow's Eve

All Hallow's Eve. The newest national holiday.

When I was young, so long ago, we had to walk to school in six foot of snow.... oh. Wrong story. That's my grandfather's story.

When I was young, Halloween was always celebrated with Trick or Treat on the Thursday before All Hallow's Eve. Back in those days, the neighborhood was a safe place for us kids. Parents worked together to everyone safe and in line. If we misbehaved, there was no escaping the consequences.

On Trick or Treat night, the parents turned us loose in one big pack. They did this for a singular reason and that was so these so-called adults could sneak out basement doors, hide in the bushes, and scare us kids witless. Those were the days my friends....

Rayne
www.rayneforrest.com

www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

Saturday, October 24, 2015

A Hero's Bargain for this My Sexy Saturday

Welcome to another My Sexy Saturday! My Sexy Saturday is the weekly blog hop that brings you some of the best in romance fiction. 

Science fiction is my first love. When I was about nine or ten, I read Moon of Three Rings by Andre Norton. It was straight sci-fi and it opened the galaxy for me. I started out writing sci-fi only to discover it was difficult to get published, so I switched to contemporary.

Well, those days are over. Indie publishing rules and I'm going back to my roots. All I need is a thirty-hour day!

Here are seven sexy paragraphs from the sci-fi romance, A Hero's Bargain.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


She put her hands on her hips. “You are…you are…”

“What? Annoying? I know.” He grinned at her then crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

She backed away, shaking her head. “No. I have things I must do while it’s daylight. You should rest. Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the pallet.”

“Remember our little deal, angel.” He let the blanket slip just a hair. Her eyes flicked down to his groin. She licked her lips. His cock twitched. He could have howled with glee at the response. She’d take the pallet his ass. Who was she trying to fool? Her curiosity about the stranger in her care consumed her.

Ryder tossed the blanket over the foot of her bed and let her get a good look at him as he worked his way beneath the covers. The bed was longer and softer than the pallet, and he stretched out. It was heavenly to suddenly be comfortable—and free of pain. 

He tucked the covers around his hips before he looked at her. She watched him, stared at him, actually. He met her gaze.

“I’ll rest, angel. I anticipate a long night.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A Hero's Bargain is available at Amazon

About A Hero's Bargain:


When a poker game turns ugly, erstwhile gambler Ryder Vaughan runs for his life. After crash landing his ship on an unknown world it looks like his life will be a short one - until the lovely healer, Saba Duer, finds him and saves him. Smitten, Saba has no qualms allowing Ryder to seduce her.

In Ryder, Saba sees the coming of a hero to save her people. The deadly errol that has terrorized the Ramalho Clan for so many years has been spotted on a course that will bring it to the village. Ryder has a weapon that could destroy the creature. She strikes a bargain with him to secure his help. Ryder’s not yet well and whole, but there is no choice. Saba has to let him go and face the truth – she’s sent him on a mission to die.   

But Ryder has a plan - and dying isn’t a part of it.

Rayne
http://rayneforrest.blogspot.com
www.rayneforrest.twitter.com




Saturday, October 10, 2015

Rain on the Roof - A Blessing in Life

October 10, 2015

October marks two anniversaries at my house. The first pales in significance to the second. We’ve been together for twenty-one years. The second - my beloved has been cancer free for nine years.

Back in 2006, our situation was grim until his oncologist offered a Hail Mary drug. It worked. The tumor suddenly shrunk and the surgeon at Johns Hopkins agreed to take a chance on surgery. Times were bleak, but the rainbow was just ahead.

Eleven days after his surgery, I wrote the following blog. The feeling of appreciation of being alive and together has lasted over the years. We have been greatly blessed.

Rayne

PS. The same cat is still waking me up by tickling me with his whiskers.
~ ~ ~ ~ 

October 29, 2006

For these past many months I’ve suffered with insomnia. The inability to sleep, and rest, often has hidden causes. At least I knew what haunted me. My beloved’s battle with cancer has taken a toll on our life together and as individuals. The prolonged use of chemotherapy did its job and the tumor was finally removed. While his long-term prognosis is unclear, we at least have renewed hope. In a time when it seems politically incorrect to do so, my thanks and my praise remain thankfully given to God.

Now I have some breathing (or is it sleeping) room and the last three nights have been blissful. I’ve dropped like a rock before primetime and have barely been able to wake up twelve hours later. Until this morning.

This morning the brush of whiskers on my cheek and the sinking of not-so-tiny claws into my bosom got my attention at the ungodly hour of 4:13 a.m. I love my cat, honest I do, but his early morning demands were a bit much. He wanted to go outside and it was pouring rain. He was unhappy. He wasn’t getting his way with the universe, therefore his slaves needed to be awake and paying attention to him.

Wrong.

I threw him out in the rain. Tossed him right out the door. Call the ASPCA on me. Call PETA. Call a cat rescue. I don’t care. Better yet, you come and get him and let him put puncture wounds in your breast. And besides, he has a little cathouse under the eaves to go curl up in and stay dry. I stumbled back to bed and pulled the covers over my head. That’s when I realized my beloved was awake, too. “Do you know it’s raining?” he asked.

Why, no, dear. I had no idea. I missed the waterfall when I opened the back door and booted the cat out for a swim.

I rolled over and we snuggled up together as best a man with fifty staples tracing the outline of his right ribs can and we listened to the rain. Such a small thing, the sound of rain on the roof, but I don’t think we’ve heard it for two years.

I’ve often wondered why the sound of rain of the roof evokes such emotion in most people. Are we glad to be inside and dry? Do we share some ancient memory of times when our shelters were not quite so cozy? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, we simply enjoyed the moment, and of being alive and together. It was a moment of triumph.

Rayne Forrest
Bookshelf
twitter.com/rayneforrest

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

IWSG - It's Tough to be a Writer Today

The Insecure Writer's Support Grop


Being a writer today is challenging. It’s gotten so writing the story is the EASY part. These days you need to be your own proofreader, editor, cover artist, publisher and marketing specialist if you want to gain traction. If it sounds a bit daunting, that’s because it is.

The sad truth of it all is that in today’s publishing climate, you no longer have the luxury of simply writing the story and moving on to your next piece of inspiration. You have to take the time to learn how to edit, how to create a cover, and how to set up accounts at the various online booksellers and upload a finished product. You have to market your book yourself, which you’d be doing anyway even if you used a more traditional publisher.

When I started out, way back in 2003, self-publishing was still a taboo topic. One simply did not self publish. Hell, back when I started, epublishing wasn’t accepted. The “big girls” at the Romance Writers of America (RWA) did everything they could to stop the jagernaught only to discover they couldn’t. Digital publishers sprang up everywhere and only a few of those original companies survive today. But that survival is threatened by the indie writer.

I’ve benefited greatly by being published through a select few digital publishers. I learned how to edit, which is vitally important. I learned what I like for a cover (and sadly rarely got it).  We learn or we stagnate.  I had the bulk of my work with Whiskey Creek, but they sold to some company no one had ever heard of and tried to force everyone to sign on. Oh, no. So my books went down with the ship. Now I have the chance to see that it doesn’t happen again. Been there. Done that.

And I’m not alone.

Having had publishers 1) file bankruptcy, 2) disappear 3) sell the business, I can attest to the fact a reversion of rights clause isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on or the space it takes up on the monitor screen. Writing a coherent story with good characters and a decent plot takes a lot of time. That’s time not spent with spouses, children, family and friends. Getting screwed by a publisher isn’t any fun and that leads me to why it’s tough to be a writer today.

I’m not alone in seeing indie publishing as the only viable way to avoid getting screwed when it comes to publishing rights. It’s not that I WANTED to become my own editor, cover artist, publisher and market specialist, oh no! I want to write. I want to immerse myself in a world I’ve created and fly! But the good old days are over.

It’s tough to be a writer/proofreader/editor/cover artist/publisher/market specialist today. 

Rayne Forrest

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Autumn arrives

Autumn is definitely riding the mist into the mountains. The leaves are beginning to turn and, in the case of the poplars, already fall. The days are still warm but the nights are clear and crisp. The resident deer have lost their fawn-colored summer coats and taken on a darker hue. They’re hard to see against the browning ground.

This year the deer spend time in the back yard without having to worry about a dog. We’ve been dog-less for a while now, and we’re looking for a pup. Likely deer vote “no” to a dog, but they have no say.

Without the dog we’re often not aware the herd of nine deer have arrived. Time was the dog let us know in no uncertain terms we had trespassers. Now one of us slinks to the window to peek out. Deer are skittish creatures. If they see or sense movement, they vanish like wraiths.

Being up early today, I sipped my coffee and watched for the herd to arrive - graceful shadows in the pale dawn light. Someday soon I’ll share my spot with a young dog and point the deer out to him.

Will he find the “critters” as fascinating as our beloved Lab did? I’m betting yes. Will he ever catch one? I very much doubt it, but he’ll have fun trying. 
And I’ll be reminded of past autumns, and other deer and dogs, and know this is where I belong as autumn arrives. 

Rayne

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Loving Luke for MSS #110

It's another My Sexy Saturday blog hop day. Big thanks to Lynn Crain for organizing the blog hop and doing a massive amount of promo on it last week. Be sure and check out the My Sexy Saturday blogs by using the list at the bottom of this post.

Today I'm highlighting seven sexy paragraphs from Loving Luke. I'm really pleased to have this story available again. It's been out of print for seven or eight years, so it was time. Thanks to everyone who stops by Twenty-Six Keys!

- - - - - -
He stroked from her knee to her hip, stopping as his hand brushed over her pocket. Very slowly he dipped two fingers into her pocket and withdrew the foil package. His heart pounded under her palm. He looked at her and licked his lips.

“You know, pretty lady, this changes everything.” He slipped the condom into his jeans pocket.

Chere’s heart stuttered then struggled to catch up to his. The dam broke inside her, flooding her, readying her. Her throat went dry. She didn’t seem to have any saliva to swallow and restore the balance. Underneath the swell of wanting him was a humorous thought. No wonder he’d insisted he needed to move slowly and seemed intent on driving her crazy by wanting to wait. She coughed dryly and forced the words out.

“You didn’t have any with you, did you?”

His arms tightened around her. He laughed softly. “I really didn’t think I’d need one tonight.”

He sounded so sheepish she struggled not to laugh. “Luke. Let’s go to bed."

“Be gentle with me, Chere. It’s been a long time.”

_ _ _ _ _

LOVING LUKE
Available now at All Romance eBooks

About Loving Luke:

Chere Palmer has had enough of boys who only think they’re men, of blind dates and being polite to everyone’s cousins. She’s certainly had enough of the cell phone company that gave her an infamous phone number. She’s ready for a life of celibacy or an honest-to-goodness mature man, whichever way it works out. Right now, it’s late and she wants to go home – alone.

Luke Fisher has had a bad day.  The electric was off, he overslept, the computer network bombed and he had to stay at the office until midnight to restore it, and on a Friday, no less. Now, to top it all off, he’s got a flat tire. Luke calls the number on his roadside assistance card and instead of help, he gets an angry female. He tries to convince her he really needs a tow truck, but she’s convinced he’s out for some fun calling a phone number made famous in a rock song.

It doesn’t take long for Chere to realize Luke’s telling the truth. Taken with his sincerity, she agrees to go out with him and a romance quickly blooms. But Luke’s past is never far behind, and when it catches up to him Chere has to decide to walk away or spend her life Loving Luke.






Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Loving Luke by Rayne Forrest - now available at All Romance eBooks

Contemporary romance
- - - 


Chere Palmer has had enough of boys who only think they’re men, of blind dates and being polite to everyone’s cousins. She’s certainly had enough of the cell phone company that gave her an infamous phone number. She’s ready for a life of celibacy or an honest-to-goodness mature man, whichever way it works out. Right now, it’s late and she wants to go home – alone.

Luke Fisher has had a bad day.  The electric was off, he overslept, the computer network bombed and he had to stay at the office until midnight to restore it, and on a Friday, no less. Now, to top it all off, he’s got a flat tire. Luke calls the number on his roadside assistance card and instead of help, he gets an angry female. He tries to convince her he really needs a tow truck, but she’s convinced he’s out for some fun calling a phone number made famous in a rock song.

It doesn’t take long for Chere to realize Luke’s telling the truth. Taken with his sincerity, she agrees to go out with him and a romance quickly blooms. But Luke’s past is never far behind, and when it catches up to him Chere has to decide to walk away or spend her life Loving Luke. 


EXCERPT

As to how the tire had gone flat, Luke didn’t want to give in to conjecture. It had been fine when he’d parked the car. Dwelling on it meant delving into his past and he didn’t have the energy for that right now. He’d worry tomorrow, in the daylight, when his speculations were more manageable.

Climbing into the Mustang, he dropped the seat back and settled in to call the tow truck and maybe snap a nap until they arrived. At least he could run the engine and create a cool breeze with the air conditioning system and avoid the humid night air and the mosquitoes. He keyed in the number on his roadside assistance card and waited for someone to answer.

A silky smooth voice, with just the barest whisper of the South said hello. He rattled off his name and roadside assistance insurance number and waited for her to ask all the usual questions for filling out her forms. There was silence on the other end of the connection.

“Did you get all that?” he asked her. Her reply startled him.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but you’re not. Don’t call this number again.”

The connection went dead with a click. What the fuck?

He dialed the number again and the same voice answered, only a little less pleasant this time. Well, he was feeling a bit less pleasant, too. He paid a lot of money for roadside service and he expected to get it when he called for it. He was too tired, too hot and sweaty waiting for the car’s air conditioning to get up to speed to tolerate games.

“Listen, whoever you are, I need roadside assistance. Just stop playing your little game and send the tow truck. You got that?”

“Me? I’m playing games? Listen, bucko, I don’t know who you think you’re calling, but I’m not a tow truck driver and you’re bloody well on your own.” The connection broke.

He looked at his phone, dismayed. Could he just have one thing go his way between now and dawn? He hit the redial. When she answered this time, she was hopping mad.

“Now you listen to me you smarmy son-of-a-bitch. You call me again and I’ll have the cops on you so fast you won’t know what the hell happened to you. Do you hear me?”

Well. Maybe he’d better try to be very nice and see where it got him. He felt more human since the air conditioning finally blew cool air at him. 

“Ma’am, I hear you. I need a tow truck and I dialed the number on my roadside assistance card. I’m really sorry to be bothering you if you’re not the agency listed.”

Nothing but complete silence. Had she disconnected again? “Hello?”

“Mister, are you telling me the truth?” Some of the anger left her voice.

“Lady, I don’t have the energy to be jerking your chain and I wouldn’t lie unless there was a sub-machine gun pointed at my head. I need a tow truck.” He gave her the name of his insurance company. “Are you someplace you could maybe look up that number for me?”

He looked over at the only other car left on the lot, parked under a bright pole light. A pretty woman with long dark hair sat behind the wheel talking on a cell phone. She turned her head just enough that he could see most of her face.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have a phonebook in my purse. Call information, why don’t you?”

His mouth dropped open. He snapped it closed.

“Ma’am, I’m sitting in the parking lot of O’Malley’s with a flat tire --”

The woman in the other car started then turned to face him fully. Even across twelve dark parking spaces he could see the surprise on her face. He got out of his car and walked around to the passenger side and pointed at his front tire.

“See? It’s really flat.”

“Um, I see that.”

Luke hopped up to sit on the hood of his car and waved at her. “Hi. I’m Luke.”

          She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers at him, waving back. “Hi. I’m Chere."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ 

Loving Luke is available at:





Monday, September 14, 2015

Loving Luke - cover reveal

Tonight is a hit and run post. I'm working on getting Loving Luke uploaded and I wanted to quickly share the cover with you. I'll be back later in the week with more information about Loving Luke.

Rayne




Saturday, September 12, 2015

My Sexy Saturday - To Bed a Spy

Welcome to another My Sexy Saturday! This week it's about the sexy girlfriend, or in this case the sexy spy's girlfriend. Here are seven sexy paragraphs from To Bed a Spy, where TJ, our spy, ties Rae to the headboard to keep her from following him and getting into more trouble. It may or may not work....

* * * * *
TJ stroked her cheek and jaw line with his knuckles. What was it about this woman? How had she gotten under his skin, making him second-guess his own judgment? He couldn’t afford to doubt any decision he made. His life depended on making the right call on instinct. 

“I’ll be back, Rae.” He rose and looked down at her. “And no one but me will ever see you like this.” He bent and kissed her, a light brush of his lips to hers. “And it’s their loss, too, darling.”
Her eyes widened. Her lips thinned. “You son of a bitch! Untie me now!”
If only he could. “I can’t. I’ve got to go…”
Christ, could the girl scream! He hastily clamped his hand over her mouth as she hit a high note that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Rae tried to bite his hand. He jerked it away and then grasped her chin roughly.
“Shut up. I don’t have time for this, or for arguments. I’m leaving. If you scream like that again, the neighbors will find you before I get back and they’ll have a lot of questions. Remember, what answers they don’t get, they’ll invent.”
She snarled at him. “I hate you.”

* * * *
About To Bed a Spy:
The fiery gaze of a total stranger across a crowded subway station fuels Rae Browning's overactive imagination. Drop-dead gorgeous, he could have stepped out of one of her favorite novels. After he breaks into her apartment, Rae stops longing for excitement and adventure. She wants her quiet life back. 
 
Thaddeus Julius Light, TJ to his associates, is a spy in the deep cold, his cover compromised, his life in danger. Rae Browning holds the key to what's going on and she doesn't even know it. Retrieving the data chip from Rae is easy, keeping her safe might not be. TJ is forced to continue his deceptions, enlisting her help to prove his innocence and complete his mission.

Keeping his mind on business isn't easy with Rae at his side. TJ has but one question - what will it take for Rae to bed a spy?

To Bed a Spy is available at All Romance eBooks and Amazon.

Rayne Forrest
http://www.rayneforrest.com
rayneforrest.blogspot.com
www.twitter.com/rayneforrest



Sunday, September 6, 2015

Rayne's Ramblings - Remembering Katrina

As I've mentioned, I've had several blogs over the years. Rather than try to update broken links, after a while, it becomes easier to start over. I'm hopeful that having total control of my work at this point in my career means fewer broken links. You may think a few links is a small thing but when a publisher revamps its entire website and gives all your books new links, and you've been promoting on a regular basis, well, do the math.

We've recently passed the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I saw a news special on it and was thoroughly dismayed people are still talking the same old tired rhetoric and blaming the same people for a hurricane. Have we learned nothing? Why are we unable to move on? 

Instead of continually puffing out one's chest and spouting off about what others did or didn't do in the aftermath of this natural disaster, get off your lazy ass and do something to make a difference. If you listen to the rabble rousers, remember words are cheap, and appropriate actions need no words. These people who've been ranting for ten years? What have they really done, other than go on television and talk? Better take a good look before you buy what they're really selling. 

RF

The following is from the former blog, Through a Glass Brightly.








September 4, 2005

Hurricane Katrina

The tragedy of humanity in the wake of Hurricane Katrina has haunted everyone for these past days. Everywhere you go people are talking about it. Every newspaper has pictures and headlines. Every channel on the television, even the shopping networks, are donating goods and funds to relief efforts. And here is yet another blog, another opinion voiced. Yes, everyone is affected in some way by this natural disaster.

I’m hearing from people, far and wide, that they are giving to the Red Cross. This outpouring of generosity is wonderfully American. And yet I know getting those funds collected and trickling down to the victims of the hurricane will take time. There is bureaucracy to deal with whether we like it or not. As heart-rending as some of the images on the television are, we are still reminded that the universe unfolds as it should and we ultimately have no control over it.

In the days ahead we’ll all be bombarded by messages from this or that organization stating they are giving a portion of their proceeds to relief efforts. Most of these organizations are honest. They’ll do as they say. Others, I’m not so sure about. My beloved was watching something on the television and a commercial came on.

I was in my office and couldn’t see the pictures, but listening to the announcer I was struck by the blatant promotional opportunity that particular company was taking all couched in terms of aiding the victims of the hurricane. I’m glad I don’t patronize that company, and I know that now I never will.

In the midst of the human tragedy, I sit at my computer and write. Working on my newest story has turned into chore. My mind keeps turning to those suddenly homeless, suddenly hope-less. My prayers are with those people. I lost my home and all my worldly possessions in a house fire in February of 1983. How much worse it must be for those people in the south.

I had family that embraced me. I immediately had a warm, safe place to sleep. I did not go without water. Even my dogs found shelter in my aunt’s warm, clean kennel.  I had a job to return to. The outpouring of gifts from my church and my community to rebuild my life, much from total strangers, is something I will never forget.

How much worse it must be for those people hit by the storm. I cannot even begin to know.

My prayers are also with those people who have left their families and their jobs to go and give aid to those suffering. I’m in awe of these people, in awe of the depth of their compassion and dedication. What special people they are to walk away from their lives to go and give aid. They also need support. A gift through your local house of worship will go to support many of them who have trained for this.

Tonight my beloved and I will take a short drive down our country road and park in front of the local church. From this vantage point we have a clear view of the Labor Day fireworks display sponsored by a local business. It is such a simple thing to sit together in the safe confines of our truck and enjoy the fireworks. We’ve done it every year for eleven years now. But tonight I won’t be taking his presence for granted.

In spite of what we see on the news, we are a nation blessed. We care about the plight of our fellow human beings and we do what we can, when we can, to give aid. If we are ever faced with such a tragedy again, we will do even better.

One by one, we each make a difference, and what we receive is more than we give. May our gifts be increased tenfold. 

Blessings to you,

Rayne

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

IWSG - The Sisterhood Myth

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group


I’ve been around a while, and outside of a handful of authors, I’ve not made lasting friends. I accept the reason for this lies mostly with me. It’s difficult to work full time and have a writing career. No, I’m not whining. It is what it is. But something else it is rings just as true, at least for me.

Back in the day I wrote a book and made the mistake of telling people about it. “Get it published!” they said. So I set about to finding out how to go about it. Fast forward to joining the RWA and an online paranormal chapter.

I asked a simple question. Many, many, many of those “mentors” told me where I could to buy a copy of their book, which, they assured me, held the answer. That’s not mentoring. That’s hawking your wares. (Funny how so many of them had a book on the topic of my question, which happened to be non-writing related.) To this day there's one woman whose books I will not purchase because of her cavalier attitude toward a newbie. 

As writers, we might think we don’t owe another like-wise engaged individuals a thing. They’re taking sales away from us. Why should we help them do that?

It goes a lot deeper than being a writer. We owe each other common courtesy and kindness, especially to someone who is floundering along the side of the road. It’s never in our best interest to bolster ourselves and our bottom line at the expense of another.

So here’s my kernel of wisdom for this IWSG post: Pick your friends carefully. Remember the Golden Rule and treat others the way you want to be treated. That newbie you can help might be able to do a good turn for you one day. 

Rayne Forrest
www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

Saturday, August 29, 2015

It's Money Back Guarantee for My Sexy Saturday #107

Welcome to my corner of the My Sexy Saturday blog hop! Thanks for stopping by. This morning I'm highlighting seven sexy paragraphs from the new release Money Back Guarantee. Enjoy!

* * *

“Ah. So you were Slade the Slayer and your brother was Keiko?”
“Close. A friend was my sidekick. Beckett never got into graphic novels, but he was the one who started calling me Slade. Soon, even my parents called me Slade. I’ve been Slade ever since.”
Iris batted her eyelashes at him. “Do you have a cape?” She laughed as strong arms lifted her out of the water.
“That does it, wench!” Slade perched on the edge of the tub with Iris sprawled across his lap. She yelped as his hand descended on her wet, bare buttocks, twisting to sink her teeth in his side. He grunted.
“Slade, this is not a good course of action!”
He spanked her again.
“I’m warning you, Martin! You’ve got dangling body parts that are in danger!”

* * *

About Money Back Guarantee:



Slade Martin is under attack. An electronic thief absconded with all his liquid personal wealth and someone on his board of directors is plotting a hostile takeover. The obvious culprit isn’t the guilty party, and Slade gets help to find the real perpetrator from a surprise source – the lovely and capable Iris D’Vance.  

Iris D’Vance is determined to not repeat her mistakes with men – until she meets Slade Martin, and decides all bets are off. Accepting the invitation to sit on the board of Slade’s charitable foundation lands her in the middle corporate intrigue. Slade needs her help and makes her an offer she can’t turn down.

Slade and Iris join forces to unravel the plot to ruin Slade and discover their interest in each other runs deeper than sharing altruistic works. When the person behind Slade’s woes is found, it’s Iris who’s in danger. Slade has to act fast to bring her home safe and make good on his money back guarantee.

* * *


Money Back Guarantee is available now at All Romance eBooks 

www.allromanceebooks.com/product-moneybackguarantee-1874114-148.html

Rayne Forrest

www.rayneforrest.com
www.twitter.com/rayneforrest

Be sure and check out all the My Sexy Saturday blog on the list below.





Sunday, August 23, 2015

New release - Money Back Guarantee by Rayne Forrest

I'm very pleased to have Money Back Guarantee back out in the world. This book has a long history. I always liked the way the story turned out. Obtaining the rights back to it now allows me to make it available as a stand-alone story. I hope you'll enjoy Money Back Guarantee. - Rayne Forrest


Slade Martin is under attack. An electronic thief absconded with all his liquid personal wealth and someone on his board of directors is plotting a hostile takeover. The obvious culprit isn’t the guilty party, and Slade gets help to find the real perpetrator from a surprise source – the lovely and capable Iris D’Vance.  

Iris D’Vance is determined to not repeat her mistakes with men – until she meets Slade Martin, and decides all bets are off. Accepting the invitation to sit on the board of Slade’s charitable foundation lands her in the middle corporate intrigue. Slade needs her help and makes her an offer she can’t turn down.

Slade and Iris join forces to unravel the plot to ruin Slade and discover their interest in each other runs deeper than sharing altruistic works. When the person behind Slade’s woes is found, it’s Iris who’s in danger. Slade has to act fast to bring her home safe and make good on his money back guarantee. 


INTRO:

Slade stalked off the elevator, his prey dead center in the crosshairs. Primed and loaded, one word from Ms. Iris D’Vance, and he’d let the hammer fall. Damn her. He sucked in a deep breath to replace the air that whooshed out of his lungs as her appearance burned onto his corneas.
Damn her for standing in front of the windows with the sunlight coming in behind her. Every luscious curve was visible through the backlit fabric of her dress. He’d not seen anything that amazing in…well, he’d never seen anything that amazing. His temper bled away, replaced by a surge of lust. Maybe he needed to rethink his approach, and fast, before she got away with old man Farnsmore.
Iris turned slightly and spotted him. Her eyes widened, she stiffened, then her composure slid back into place. It didn’t matter. Slade had seen the sudden interest in her eyes. He held out his hand to her for a friendly handshake.
“Ms. D’Vance, I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot upstairs. I get a little nervous before board meetings.”
Iris accepted his hand. Her lips parted. He closed his fingers around hers, noting how cold hers were as he lifted them to his lips.
“I’m sorry. That was forward of me. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Her chin lifted, and her lovely hazel eyes took on a new, hard glint.
“I’m sure that well-rehearsed and very tired line still works on some women, but I assure you, I’m not one of them, Mr. Martin.”
Slade very grudgingly gave her high marks for honesty. He’d asked for that, and she’d given it to him.
“No, it doesn’t work, obviously. I’ll have to practice it.”
“Not on me, Mr. Martin. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s my ride.”
Dismissed, for God’s sake. Torpedoed.
Slade grabbed her wrist. She shot him a cold look that would have sent a weaker man to his knees.
Well, she could glare at him all she wanted to. What he had to say was important.
“Whatever it is you and Farnsmore have schemed up, I warn you now, he’ll turn on you the minute you’ve outlived your usefulness.”
Her look turned wary. “What are you talking about, Mr. Martin?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know old Reggie worked his glib tongue with the other members to get you a seat on my board. Now you’d best remember it is my board. Drop Farnsmore before you get in over your head.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Have it your way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about Reggie and his cronies.” Slade left her standing there, turning abruptly and calling for his car.
Curse the day Reginald Farnsmore managed to wrangle a seat on the CRM board! The man was nothing but trouble. Slade slid into the driver’s seat of his vintage Cadillac. Crap. He needed to pay the permit for the gasoline engine because in his current financial straits, he couldn’t afford the steep fine for a lapse.
How did Iris fit into Reggie’s grandiose scheme to take over the board? Maybe Farnsmore thought she’d be a proper distraction. If that were the case, Slade had to admit the man had picked a woman who could get his mind on other things. Too bad she didn’t have the balls, well, ovaries, to own up to it.
The look in her eyes swam in his memory, the look of shocked confusion that she’d not been able to hide as he’d delivered his warning.
Fucking hell. His chest tightened, constricting painfully around his heart. She’d not been faking. No one could act that well. Maybe she really didn’t know.
Great, now he’d have to save both D’Vance and CRM from Farnsmore.



Purchase at OmniLit      



Rayne Forrest

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Money Back Guarantee - cover reveal

Busy Saturdays are nothing new. After working a day job all week, it's a necessity to cram a lot of "to dos" into the weekend. Laundry, yard work, family all require our physical presence. 

I don't mind, most weeks, but today my creative side really, really, really wanted to finish the cover for Money Back Guarantee. I did, but it's too late to try to load the book up at All Romance eBooks as planned. I'll have to settle for having completed the cover and leave the uploading for tomorrow.

The cover looks just as I envisioned. I'd do a happy dance but I'm tuckered. That'll have to wait until tomorrow, too.

Rayne
rayneforrest.blogspot.com
twitter.com/rayneforrest