No Holds Barred

Sunday's are promo days at Shapeshifter Seductions and even though there isn't a shifter in sight I've been invited to promo my February release from Ellora's Cave. I hope you enjoy it!

NO HOLDS BARRED
by Paris Brandon
Copyright 2009

Here's the blurb:

What's a woman to do when the younger man she can't forget tracks her down after a night of passion, meant only to celebrate her fortieth birthday? If you're Raphella Dotti, you succumb to a year of Sunday morning, long-distanced phone calls with thirty year old Jake Truhorn and end up agreeing to celebrate your next birthday with a week of unbridled, no holds barred, anything goes sex. No problem, right?

Unless you have a few trust issues, gravity challenged breasts, the hips of a Sicilian peasant and are prone to gut wrenching, chest constricting panic attacks. Unless the man you’re spending that week with looks like he walked off the cover of a romance novel and has an agenda that includes Sex Toy Poker, the joys of uninhibited outdoor sex, painting you nude, cellulite and all, a fantasy three-some for two and entrusting him with a heart you’re afraid of losing.

And here's the excerpt!

Ella set her empty champagne flute on the passing waiter's tray. She didn't need champagne to appreciate the large tuxedo-clad Viking stalking across the room but another glass would be all it took to talk her into believing that she, Raphaella Dotti, the handsome Dotti daughter, had put the determined glint in Jake Truhorn's blue-gray eyes.

She'd caught a glimpse of the reclusive young artist's back earlier. His signature dark blond braid trailing between his very broad shoulder blades had fascinated her and then he'd turned around. Tall, muscular and Nordic didn't hurt. Oh yum. And it was her birthday.

He walked past beautiful women in designer dresses who touched him in passing, a group of Fortune 500 donors who'd flocked to the trendy Chicago gallery Snap! to support the local Inner City Youth Center by bidding on donated artwork including New York artist Truhorn's newest mural entitled The Forgotten. He passed a harried tray-laden waiter, deftly snagging a flute of champagne while he still pinned her with his gray-blue gaze.

Happy Birthday to me, Happy birthday to me, she hummed quiety as her panties dampened.

"You look...like you can't decide what to do next," he said, insinuating the flute into her hand.

The timbre of his voice vibrated through her and her nipples tightened. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. "And you look interesting." And young. Happy Fortieth, Ella!

An hour later she found out just how interesting and young he was while they were enjoying a glass of wine and oysters on the half-shell in one of Chicago's lesser known treasures, the Wine Cellar. Jake was thirty, impressed by her passion for her job as style editor for the local magazine Whimsy and everything from his infectious smile to his velvety voice lulled her into her favorite bit of foreplay--the chase. He was still looking into her eyes and smiling when he suggested a little exercise.

The line charmed her until they actually walked the six blocks to his hotel, his arm around her at her first shiver. The September breeze had nothing to do with her body temperature. A delicious ripple of anticipation and the Viking marauder with the hungry glint in his very determined gaze was what made her pull her black silk shawl tighter.

She thought he'd kiss her in the elevator but his hand barely brushed her fingertips and the little zing was like an electrical shock sizzling through her. When the doors opened he took her hand and drew her down the hall into his room, backing her against the door as he closed it.

Delicious heat radiated from somewhere behind his very starched shirt and the thought that she'd never be cold again slipped through her mind before she could stop it and then his hot insistent mouth was on hers and she stopped thinking.

Have a great day,
Paris