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Come Fly with Me, oh, you sexy billionaire you…on My Sexy Saturday #98


My Sexy Saturday #98!! Click on this LINK or the graphic above to go to Blog Hop List!

Here’s how it works: Lynn Crain heads up this amazing blog every week with a new theme; it’s up to the authors to post 7 paragraphs, 7 words, or 7 sentences. Sexy, of course. Please visit the other authors, too.

In Lynn’s words:

Our Sexy Man

Welcome to the 98th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme is Our Sexy Man and need we say more. This is all about the sexy men in our books. The young ones, the old ones, the middle aged ones, the ones who turn us on like no other. It’s all about the sexy, hot romance they bring to the pages of the books we read and the books we write.


So naturally I have to write about JACE CHANTIERS, the sexy billionaire in “Come Fly with Me,” especially when I just re-did the cover with Mr. Sexy up front and center:


Here’s the set-up: London’s Heathrow airport
New Year’s Eve

Kacie Bennett is stranded in London and desperate to get home to avert a family crisis. She’s shocked when a tall, dark handsome stranger offers her a first class airline ticket, no strings attached.

What’s a girl to do? 

Jace Chantiers is a self-made oil billionaire, a player who can have any supermodel he wants, but he doesn’t believe in love. That would mean opening up about the pain in his past, something he swears he’ll never do. When he has to cancel his date to fly to San Francisco for an urgent business meeting, he overhears Kacie’s panicked phone call from her sister and is intrigued by her plight.

He never expected to ring in the New Year with a gorgeous blonde who needs his help. Kacie gets under his skin with her go-to attitude, hard work ethic, and strong dedication to her family. Something he never had growing up. She makes him wonder if he’s missing out on something, something his money can’t buy.

Can Kacie resist this gorgeous man the British tabloids have labeled the sexiest man alive? Does she dare lose her inhibitions at thirty thousand feet…or will she also lose her heart?

This is the scene when Kacie boards the airbus and the flight attendant shows her the tabloid with the sexy billionaire on the cover:

“The Daily Sneek dubbed him the sexiest man alive. His picture is splashed all over the front page.” She winked and handed her the scandal sheet.

Kacie’s eyes popped. It was him all right. There, sprawled on the cover of the glossy gossip sheet was the gorgeous hottie who bought her a ticket home. The man’s charisma grabbed her, as bold and sexy on paper as he was in person. The paparazzi had caught his hard, muscled body in a candid shot somewhere on a white, sandy beach. Shoulders so broad they spilled off the page, his naked chest glistening with sea spray, his abs tighter than a clamshell. And a come-hither grin that would have any woman crawling on her knees to get close to him. His brooding black eyes stared straight into the camera as if daring the photographer to take the shot.

And she had to sit next to him for the whole flight, squirming in her seat, wild feelings stirring within her. Smell his woodsy scent, dream about unbuttoning his silk shirt and running her fingers up and down his muscular bronze chest. It would be pure hell not to let her fingers wander over the armrest and grab his sleeve, feel his forearm tighten under her touch. She’d fooled herself into believing she could handle it. She couldn’t.

She was in dangerous territory with a man this powerful and, God help her, this sexy. She’d only get hurt. That didn’t change how she felt. She wanted to taste his lips, lose herself in his kiss, his body strong and warm against hers.

Kacie groaned inwardly as she followed the flight attendant up the winding stairs toward the first class cabin. With each step, her heart pounded louder in her ears. Mr. GQ was waiting there for her. The memory of the moment he held her gaze with his piercing dark eyes lingered within her like sweet, dark molasses on a stick. He wasn’t a soufflé that needed more sugar or a vichyssoise choking with chives. He was the hunkiest piece of beefsteak she was ever going to meet in her life. A fantasy she’d always dreamed about experiencing with a stunningly handsome man, but never would back home in Forgotten Valley.

Her case of the jitters just got worse. She wondered how she was going to handle being that close to him, inhaling him for the pure joy of it, her body aching for something she could never have.

Her New Year’s Eve sucked.


Come Fly with Me is a New Year’s novella — only 99 cents–a wild, sexy flight on an airbus from London to San Francisco in first class!
Check out the first class seat–just right for cozying up to this sexy hunk on a long flight…

BUY LINK at AMAZON for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited only 99 cents

Lufthansa A380 First Class © Magnus Skjølberg |

Photo credit: Lufthansa A380 First Class
© Magnus Skjølberg | The first class chair/bed in an Airbus A380 from Lufthansa. The first class is located in the upper floor. A380 is the worlds largest airliner at this time. Photo taken on: September 15th, 2010

Thank you for stopping by…………..and don’t forget to visit the MY SEXY SATURDAY BLOG HOP for this week!


You gotta love My Saturday every week with some fantastic excerpts. Click on this LINK or the graphic above to go to Blog Hop List for more sexy fun!

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Happy New Year to all you Cinderellas! Here’s to 2015 and that Happy Ending


Fireworks filled my ears when the clock struck twelve…I ran down the steps of the palace…stumbling over a grinning pumpkin…losing my shoe…but I couldn’t stop. All my hopes gone…shattered…the man of my dreams mustn’t see me like this…my dress tattered and torn, my blonde roots needing touching up–

Then I woke up.

It was all a dream. A beautiful, over the moon, wonderful dream of finding my heart’s desire.

I sighed, and then picked up the e-Reader next to my nightstand and finished the story until I got to the happy ending.

After all, isn’t that the stuff dreams are made of?

Happy New Year and Happy Reading in 2015!!




My Sexy Saturday: The Blonde Samurai

MY SEXY SATURDAY: Check out the sexy snippets from fabulous authors HERE!! 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs.

Week 15 of this phenomenal blogging group. It gets better each week. Be sure to check out the fab authors and their sexy snippets HERE.

We’ve gone to a love hotel and talked about geisha. This week you’ll meet Shintaro, a The Blonde Samurai_noble samurai lord, a man with the force of an angry god who captures the heart of Lady Carlton, my heroine in The Blonde Samurai. The story takes place in 1873 when Westerners came to Japan to build the railroad. Lady Carlton arrives with her abusive husband, a man who mistreats her and married her for her money and connections. She’s an American heiress, strong-willed, and has a fiery Irish temper.

In this scene, Lady Carlton has arrived at the Imperial Palace to have tea with the Empress when Shintaro races through the great gate leading to the pavilion. The lacquered scabbard of his long sword pokes her bustle when he brushes by her, the aroused, demanding look in his dark, forbidding eyes alerting anyone who gets in his way to beware, that he plies his trade as samurai somewhere between good and evil.


“Who do you think you are?” I yelled at the man, gathering up my skirts and facing him, chin up, shoulders back with all the fire of a martyred saint in me. “Not looking where you’re going, like a chicken hawk in search of his prey.”

He grunted loudly, his forehead beaded with sweat, his hand on his sword, but it remained sheathed, the startled look in his eyes so gripping I had no time to pull back, react. I’ve no doubt in a different time, different place, he would have drawn his sword and I’d have lost my head, since a bared blade claimed the right to draw blood. He yelled words in the native language not found in my guidebook nor did I care. I stared at him openly, my anger turning into something I dared not put into words then but I shall now. Desire, heat. A conscious burn in my pussy as I focused all my energy on him and all my senses—ears, eyes, smell, touch—became inflamed like the bold red of a setting sun as I yearned to show him an independence far beyond what the females he took to his futon exhibited.

I wanted him to touch me, rip my Paris silk trappings from my body with the tip of his blade until I stood naked before him, quivering with need for him…Instead, this giant of a man breathed heavily, his eyes never leaving mine, holding back something I didn’t understand then, a pain he didn’t share with me. Mr. Fawkes [her interpreter] did his best to temper the situation, wiping his forehead with a tissue and panting as he struggled to catch up to me, the long walk up to the gate difficult for him, bowing and calling out in the native tongue when he was but a few feet from this bellowing samurai.

The samurai grunted again then barely nodded, his lack of a low bow no doubt indicating his superior status to me, a woman. I mimicked his gesture, making his eyes spew fire at me then turned my back on him. Not a wise move. I started through the gate, shaken by this encounter with the barbarian warrior yet also thrilled by the majesty of his manly presence. The sheer sexuality of his stance, the intensity of his stare stripped me naked with that stare. Tremors of a delicious nature I’d never experienced ran through me, imagining as I did what he would see, taste, if I bared myself to him and he dared to brush his mouth against my pussy lips, the moist pink folds pouting at the intrusion but wanting more—

I stopped, a sharp pull making me lunge backward and nearly lose my balance. I dropped my parasol and it clattered down on the hard ground behind me. I turned to see this man I would know as Shintaro laughing, his hand firmly grabbing the end of my train. He held on to it so tight I couldn’t move. Now I was his prey firmly caught in his snare. I pulled and pulled but my train wouldn’t budge, though I could hear the silk ripping.

“Release me at once,” I yelled, hands on my hips, then I yelled an Irish expletive that made Mr. Fawkes sputter something in Japanese before I could continue my tirade, fanning himself with his hat and praying under his breath. The samurai laughed, grinning as if he enjoyed watching me helpless, in his power. I couldn’t allow him to get away with his game, though I couldn’t deny a humming in me that made me feel connected to him in a strange way in spite of him making a fool out of me.

Using all my strength, I pulled harder to show him I wouldn’t give in to him, but it was he who let go, as if giving me permission to proceed on my mission. Picking up my parasol, I raced through the black wooden gate with Mr. Fawkes close behind, the sound of the samurai’s raucous laughter following me, taunting me. How dare he. It was in that moment war was declared between us.



The Blonde Samurai is available on Amazon Kindle, Amazon, B&N and e-tailers everywhere


Coming in October 2013 from Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin:

NAKED SUSHI is available for pre-order on Amazon!

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