Zinnia Hope, author of multi-genres and erotic romances; also writing as J. Emberglass
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Thursday, March 12
I’m so sorry I haven’t been by to blog for so long! I’ve been working my ass off at my new job, then when I’m not there, I’m playing catch-up during the day or my days off on my editing projects, my writing, family stuff, errands, etc., plus my one dau is in hs softball now. It’s been nuts here on the Brown homefront!
I do, however, have some good news. One of my new titles debuted today. If you like humor with heat, and unusual life circumstances with spice, please take a moment to check out the following.
A TASTE OF ECSTASYZinnia Hope
Erotic Romance: ContemporaryISBN: 978-1-60435-303-7Cover Artist: EmilyEditor: Marguerite L. LemonsWord Count: 22,320Release Date: March 12, 2009
Humor with heat, are you up to it?
From a romance with Jack Frost to a star-lit rooftop to sex with an Elvis impersonator, A Touch of Ecstasy sizzles with hot sex, romance, happy endings, and even some unexpected humor.
How about a brief excerpt? And yes, I’ve written for UK editors, so here’s a bit of British flavor from the collection. I hope you enjoy it.
Can owning a bed-and-breakfast become a double entendre? Oh, yes, in more ways than one…
Managing a B&B alone in Brighton had been hard. My husband died two years ago, and I had been so lonely that everything about life looked grey.
My life changed the morning Simon signed his name on the registry, took his key, and offered me an erotic smile that nearly ignited my knickers. I stood looking at him like a dumb cow, my mouth hanging open. I watched him ascend the staircase, admiring his firm bum. I have always loved a man with big rough hands and broad shoulders, and his arse looked great in his suede trousers!
“Mum, your gob is hanging open,” Lillian said.
Heat singed my cheeks. “No one could ever replace your father.”
“Who said anything about replacing Dad? You need a good shag.”
“He’s at least ten years younger than I am!”
“Who cares as long as he can make you come?” Lillian retorted.
“No young stud is going to want sex with a forty-year-old widow with a bum that you could park a lorry under.”
“Mum, you’re an attractive woman,” Lillian said. “You have big boobs and a bum that matches. You look positively voluptuous.”
I had been forlorn and celibate since Toby became sick, but I wasn’t about to fuck the first man who caught my eye!
Lillian retrieved her wallet and coat. “I’m off to do a bit of shopping,” she announced as she stepped out the front door.
I watched her go, a small pang of jealousy skewering my gut. I once looked like Lillian when I was her age. Her long chestnut hair, green eyes, and hourglass figure kept the men flocking around her. A knot of guilt settled in my belly. It was wrong to feel envious of my own daughter. Glancing down at the large bosoms straining against my dress front, I smoothed my hands over my too-wide womanly hips. A young man wouldn’t want a widow with too many miles on her body.
The following morning, I stood in the kitchen cleaning up the breakfast debris. The door opened softly behind me.
“G’morning, bird,” a male voice said. “Is there something left for breakfast? P’raps a few bangers?”
Turning, my heart stuttered. Simon looked wonderfully handsome in dark trousers and a jumper that matched the deep green of his eyes. He favored me with a wide, endearing smile that made my legs wobble as if someone had replaced my knees with lemon curd. Even so, a bit of anger flashed through me. Not so much at Simon as myself. I wasn’t a young girl any more. Guests were not permitted in the kitchen; a sign was even posted on the door. Most of all, I was angry at how I had let a young man, a good ten years my junior, rattle me sexually. I could almost see chemistry sparks flying off my body. Did Simon sense the effect he had upon me?
“I’m sorry, luv. Did I frighten you?”
Yes, he did frighten me. Not in the sense that I felt danger, but in how he made butterflies explode within me and how I couldn’t breathe when our gazes met. Again, my brain stopped functioning, and words refused to come out of my mouth.
Simon leaned close, looking over my shoulder. He smelled like fresh linen and musk, making my senses spin.
“I could use a cuppa,” he said close to my ear.
Those five words, spoken so softly fluttered upon my nape like a gentle wren. A fiery sensation swept through my body, and when I looked up at him, his mouth met mine. A small surprised exhalation escaped me, and standing rigidly as he explored my mouth, I wondered if my heart would explode, every nerve ending in my body going hugger-mugger.
Raising his head, he whispered, “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I honestly don’t know what came over me. The next thing I knew, I grabbed him, pulling him toward me.