 I invited my fellow Beachwalk Babe to tell us about her latest release. Ella, take it away!
I'm pleased to announce the release of Surrender to Me, the sequel to Make Me Stay.
 What happens when a Dominantfalls for his not-so-submissiveattorney? Martin Abrams, owner of Master M's BDSM club, has become unfulfilled with his lifestyle. Ever since his sub, Gracie, left to marry her true love, Martin has lost his way. Living the life of the head Dominant in his circle isn't as appealing as it once was. Something seems to be missing. Sassy lawyer Arianna Covington relocates to New York City after a humiliating divorce. She's looking for a fresh start when she agrees to become Martin's exclusive attorney. She's intrigued by his domineering personality and wants to know why women kneel at his feet. Their attraction is undeniable despite Ari's initial beliefs that she will never submit to Martin's desires. But Martin is up for the challenge. Arianna is more than he ever imagined in a woman. He vows to claim her heart, with or without the games. Who will surrender first? Featuring Cade and Gracie from Make Me Stay. Excerpt “All the subs act that way around you?” Arianna asked. “It’s the only way they know. It’s what’s expected of them.” “I don’t understand how any woman would bow down like that. It’s not normal.” “Maybe not for you.” Martin understood Arianna’s position. Most who didn’t participate in a Dominant and submissive relationship didn’t get it. “It’s degrading. She can’t use the phone. She’s a grown woman.” “Arianna, this is a lifestyle you can’t possibly comprehend because you know nothing about it. A submissive gets just as much as he or she gives. The arrangement they enter into with a Dom is consensual. Roxy is not forced into being here. Her Dom respects and cares for her. She has a very good life.” “He punishes her.” “When she disobeys. It’s in her contract.” “A contract that can’t possibly be enforced in court.” “Spoken like a true lawyer.” He finished his scotch. “The contract is to protect them both. It lists what is expected of a sub and what the Dominant’s responsibilities are. They outline hard and soft limits. We create a safe, sane, and consensual environment, and that contract maintains trust between the two parties. As long as it is upheld between the parties involved that’s all that matters.” “To each his own, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I’m your real estate attorney. What you do here is none of my business.” Then why are you here, kitten? “I’m very open, Arianna. If you have questions, I’ll be happy to answer them. People should be educated in my lifestyle. It isn’t as uncommon or bizarre as you may think.” He reached for her hand. “I hope you won’t judge me without getting to know me.” “Um, no.” She looked down at their joined hands. He liked the way her cheeks turned colors when he flustered her. “Of course not. This whole environment is different. It’s going to take some getting used to.” “I understand.” He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her hand. “If you’d prefer not to meet here anymore—” “It’s not a problem.” “Very well.” He smiled because as he suspected she wanted to be there. “Will you join me for dinner?” Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked a woman to have dinner with him. He usually just summoned a sub when he was in the mood for company. Gracie was the last woman he’d spent any time with at all. Perhaps it was time to explore his options. Obviously, Arianna would be different than the women he dealt with, but he liked the change. When Gracie left him for Cade everything changed. He hadn’t been interested in another sub. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t been interested in another woman until now. “I’d love to join you for dinner, Mr. Abrams.” “I’d like you to call me Martin.” Allowing people to use his name wasn’t a privilege he granted often, but everything was different with her. He stood from the bar and picked up her briefcase. “I hope you like Italian. I ordered enough for six people. I wasn’t sure what you would want.” “Italian is fine.” She took his extended hand and walked to the back of the club with him. “Why didn’t you just wait and ask what I would want?” “I’m not used to asking.” He motioned for her to take a seat in the huge u- shaped booth that overlooked the Manhattan skyline. “Oh, Martin.” She giggled. He liked the way his name tumbled off her lips. “You have a lot to learn about non-submissive women.” Beachwalk Press Buy LinkSurrender to Me is the sequel to Make Me Stay but both books stand alone so the reader can choose to read either one first. You may want to start with Make Me Stay to get the back story. Both Books available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and ARE as well. Check out the hot and sexy trailer for a peek into the plot.
About the Author: Ella Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialogue have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can't be stopped. Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two young boys. When she's not chasing after her kids, she's busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you'll get lost in her words. You can find Ella here… Ella Jade-AuthorElla Jade-Facebook
 My friend and fellow Beachwalk babe, Aimee Duffy has a new book out too! It's fabulous and I'm in love with this cover! I hope you'll allow her to transport you away.
Sinfully SummerBlurb SUN, SEA AND SCANDAL Notorious heiress Alexa Green has certainly been enjoying her most recent girls-holiday in Marbella. Just as we thought, she’s been knocking back the cocktails and showing off her fabulous bikini body on the beach… but rumour has it she’s also been spotted sneaking out of Enrique Castillo’s penthouse in the early hours of this morning – in nothing but her underwear! Our question is, doesn't this fiercely private billionaire know what he’s letting himself in for? He’s got the millions…and she knows how to spend them! So lie back on your sun lounger and get comfortable, because this summer fling is going to be a sizzler! Excerpt Adrenaline roared through her veins. This was her only chance. Pushing away from the wall, she rounded the lift, desperately seeking an escape. She barely noticed the plush furnishings, soft-looking leather sofas and floor to ceiling window which showcased the most spectacular view she’d ever seen. Instead she focused on the walls surrounding the elevator. ‘Are you lost?’ The heavily accented voice froze her to the spot. She darted a glance toward the sound. Dark brows furrowed over the richest coloured eyes she’d seen. His gaze swept over the length of her body, then up, lingering on her rear for a beat too long. Her skin tingled under his scrutiny. Turning her whole body to face him, she slapped a hand on her hip. ‘Had a good enough look?’ His lips quirked in a sexy, lopsided grin. The jitters were back and Alexa swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees. Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders, covered in a thin white t-shirt, then down to a well filled chest. She could see a dark pattern beneath the t-shirt. She longed to find out what kind of tattoo he had. Usually, tats didn't do it for her. But on that body… ‘I could ask you the same thing.’ She snapped her attention back to his face. He stepped toward her, his jaw set, his eyes dancing with humour and something darker…something that made her blood heat and her mouth water. Alexa raised her arm, palm out. ‘Hold it there, Mr. Any closer and I’ll scream.’ He paused by the sofa. Propping his hip against the cream leather, he folded his arms across his chest, causing the muscles to bulge. The moisture drained from her mouth and flooded in her belly. ‘No one’s here to hear you.’ He cocked a brow. ‘You seem to be forgetting where you are and,’ his gaze dipped down to her breasts causing the nipples to peak against the lacy fabric ‘how under dressed.’ Alexa thought this moment would have topped the blush scale. She planted her other hand on her hip and glared at him, unwilling to show any weakness. ‘I’m just leaving.’ She turned and strode back to the lift, keeping her back straight and trying not to wiggle her hips too much. The predatory sheen in his eyes made her body more jittery than the idea of sprinting around the lower floor in her underwear. She reached out to hit the button, but a large hand circled her wrist before she made it. Alexa squeaked and darted back a step. He was so close, and his chest was right in her face. She could see the dark outline of the tattoo beneath the thin cotton. The outline of a burning sun, she thought, or something that looked like a sun. Her hands itched to lift the material and see for herself. ‘I’m up here.’ She snapped her gaze back up to his smirking face and took another step back. His lips kicked up at the corners and his eyes darkened. She swallowed against the urge to step closer, to feel his hard body pressed against hers. But she realized she was in little more than her bra and knickers in a stranger’s home. Unease skittered down her spine. Alexa squared her shoulders, trying to quash the fear turning her heated blood into cold sludge. ‘I’m leaving now.’ ‘After you explain what you’re doing in my home in your undergarments.’ ‘ Undergarments?’ Alexa pressed her lips together to keep a giggle at bay. ‘Seriously?’ Find Sinfully Summer on Amazon US / Amazon UK / Google Play / Barnes & NobleAnd look Aimee up while you're at it. Website/Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Pinterest / Google +
 I'm thrilled to announce Grading on Curves is officially available in all e-pub formats! Here's the lovely little blurb. One-on-one instruction never felt so right—or so wrong.
There’s nothing unusual about Mia Page’s attraction to the young science teacher at the middle school. After all, she’s not the only one who finds him enticing. But when he pulls her son aside to ask for her phone number, she knows she’s in serious trouble. Since her divorce four years earlier, she’s been out of circulation, choosing to focus on parenting instead, and she’s not entirely sure she can handle an entanglement with the sexy Mr. Walden.
There are also other reasons why getting involved with Curt would be a bad idea. He’s two years shy of thirty, and she’s on the downside of that unmentionable number. He’s adamant about never having kids, and she has a son. Even the guy’s romantic gifts are suspect. Energy saving light bulbs? He has to be kidding.
On the other hand, he’s fun, sweet, and smart. He stimulates her intellectually, emotionally, and Lord help her, physically, opening her eyes to life outside her comfortable world. Yet their differences quietly gnaw at Mia even while she succumbs to their undeniable chemistry.
As their romance deepens, so do Mia’s fears that Curt will eventually hurt her. On edge, all it takes is an innocent comment to provoke her into drawing first blood. Mia recklessly wounds Curt, learning only too late that this blade cuts both ways. Frantic to make amends, she fears it might be too late to admit the feelings she’s tried so hard to suppress.
You can read the first chapter on the official Grading on Curves webpage. Available now at Beachwalk Press, Amazon, Amazon UK, and Barnes & Noble,
 I'm a skeptic by nature. Things not only need to make sense, but pretty solid and substantial evidence has to be there if I'm going to form an opinion. I don't take people at their word, I want facts and sources. You have to assume that personal opinions will naturally shape and color whatever is being shared secondhand. We see it all the time. The same news story will be interpreted, and misinterpreted, in dramatically different ways. Intentional distortions are commonplace, meant to provoke an emotional response. But it happens accidentally too. Remember playing the telephone game in elementary school? The entire class sits in a circle and shares a whispered phrase. It never returns to the teacher in the same exact words. This is why I prefer to know the facts rather than the personal interpretations of them. My BS alarm has a hair trigger.
So, you'd think I would have stuck with Nancy Drew Mysteries as a girl. I read a lot of them. I loved her fact-finding missions, her search for the truth, and the excitement of coming up with the right answer, not the easy explanation. But I enjoyed fantasy. craved magic, and appreciated a good ghost story, too. Weird I know, when I don't even anthropomorphize pets.
Nevertheless, I was an imaginative child and wished fairies and elves really did live in my garden, or anywhere else. It was fun to daydream about visiting Narnia or falling down the rabbit hole with Alice. Yet I was a very grounded and practical girl so the inconsistency of my tastes always perplexed me. How could my rational brain, my natural bologna meter, give a free pass to the absurd? It was, well, as Spock would say, "Illogical."
Then came The Big Bang Theory. Can you say, "Thrilled?" Here were these straightforward guys, science nerds with a no-nonsense approach to facts and figures yet with a taste for the fantastic and implausible. They not only read comic books, they indulge their quirky, quarky, altar egos and dream up reasons to step outside the known, expanding universe and consider alternate hypotheses. I am not alone.
I no longer feel the need to explain my illogical inconsistencies. I'm simply going to enjoy them, and The Big Bang Theory.
 Yes, I admit it, I'm falling down on the job as far as blogging goes. It's time to check in, let you know what's happening, make excuses, well...you know the routine.
If you've been paying attention to my goings-on at all, you know that my screwball romantic comedy, Accidents Make the Heart Grow Fonder is officially out, to all the major distributors-- the predictable exception is Barnes & Noble. Sigh. Wish they'd get their act together.
Anyway, I've been haunting Amazon-- I can't help it, really-- reading the reviews and getting so excited that my story has struck so many people's funny bones. In a good way.
Today I'm visiting the UK! I did an interview with author, Rachel Brimble and shared an excerpt from Accidents there. Hope you drop by.
What else? Oh, in case I haven't shared this here yet, I signed a contract with Crimson Frost Books to publish my first short story, If You Want Me. It's scheduled for a September release. I've already been in communication with the cover artist and everything. Can't wait to see what they have to show me. I've shared the blurb and a teaser excerpt for that story on my website as well. Simply click on the Short Stories tab for the drop-down menu.
I've also got a copy of, Friends and Lovers waiting in my in-box from Beachwalk Press that I need to proof for the print version. I believe that will be coming out late August or early September. I'll keep you informed on those details when they're confirmed.
Last but not least, I've slid Soothe Me Baby and In the Mood to the back burner while I work on my super heroine story, Sizzle. I'm eager to finish that. I'm just struggling to fit it into my tight schedule.
Oh wait, I almost forgot, I'm getting ready for my next release of, Grading on Curves June 17th and I'll be all over the place the 17th through the 28th. Four separate promotional stops alone on the 18th! I'm chewing my fingernails waiting to see the early reviews on that story. It's never easy to launch a new title -- a lot of anxiety involved.
Then, in July, I'll be taking part in a summer reads blog hop with the other Beachwalk Babes. Just don't ask me what I'll be writing about yet. Even I'm not sure.
So that's what's happening in my hectic world. Hope you're as busy, and happy, as I am. I owe you a real blog post. Inspiration, where are you? I'll come up with something, don't worry. And don't forget that I write the Saturday Beachwalk Press Spicy Author Blog posts, too. Please, visit me there.
Now I've got mail and messages to address.
 And baby, this one is good. So good in fact, you're gonna want to cuddle for a while afterward. You'll be warm, flushed with pleasure, and smiling like there's no tomorrow. Here's where I've found this saucy little number so far: The Wild Rose PressKoboAll RomanceAnd, as always, Barnes & Noble are late to the party. I'll keep watching for that link to go up and let you know when it's live. But not to worry, they're not the only game in town offering the Nook friendly e-pub version. The Wild Rose Press, All Romance, and I believe -- but don't quote me on that -- Kobo all offer an e-pub format. So read, laugh, enjoy, and recommend. Thanks.
 I'm always happy to promote my fellow authors. Olivia Starke is my latest guest and I'm so excited to have her here to share her next release with us. Tell us all about it, Olivia. Coming July 15th to Beachwalk Press and your favorite ebook retailer! And be sure to follow my virtual book tour 07/15/13-08/02/13 with Shades of Rose Marketing! I’ll have a Rafflecopter giveaway for a $25 gift card to winner’s choice of Amazon or Barnes & Noble PLUS a free ecopy of Project Terminal: Legacy. For information on where I’ll be, drop by my website www.authoroliviastarke.com OR Shades of Rose Marketing. PROJECT TERMINAL: LEGACY Book 1 Zombies and super soldiers? Laura is the one hope for a world gone Hollywood crazy. In only a matter of hours Laura Swift has been bitten by a zombie, rescued by Mr. Tall, Dark, and Foreboding, and thrown into a world gone Hollywood crazy. She has no choice but to follow Damian into his underworld of manipulated viruses and genetically altered super soldiers. Even as her life hangs in the balance, she can't deny the attraction she feels for the incredibly sexy and thoroughly imposing Infantryman. Damian Gonsalves believes he has a cure for the virus changing innocent people into bloodthirsty undead. Within Laura is the key to stopping the horrific plague. All he has to do is keep her alive and safe, and stay one step ahead of those pursuing them. Her stubbornness frustrates him to no end, while her body drives him to distraction. When they discover the secret behind Project Terminal, will they survive long enough to help stop the unleashed horror? Or will they just be two more victims of a virus threatening all of humanity? Content Warning: graphic sex, strong language, and violence Excerpt: "Four more hours. We have to prepare." Laura went cold. "Prepare?" "The progression will snowball from here." His voice dead, he continued to stare at some unseen view. He'd kissed her with such passion, now he spoke without emotion. How could someone do such a turnabout? The lousy bastard. Rage, white hot in intensity, shot through her, her head swimming with it. "Maybe you're just stupid, Damian. Stupid for allowing a zombie thing to attack me. I wouldn't be dying if it wasn't for you. You deserve this, not me." Her fists balled at the injustice of it all. "You should die for this." She sucked in wheezing breaths, unable to fill her lungs, and fell back on her butt. Her eyes widened, searching a darkened corner of the room, a distorted face appearing from the shadows. It grinned with broken, yellowed teeth, its eyes glowing in the dimness. She gagged over raw terror. "Oh my God, I saw something over there." She scrambled backward. "Damian, one of those things is in here." * * * * Damian glanced around the sparsely furnished room. Other than a few flies and mosquitoes buzzing around them they were alone. He closed his eyes, the weight of guilt pressing down making it difficult to speak. "We're alone, Laura. Nobody else is in here." The night wore on, and fits of anger mingled with her confusion. Several times he'd had to prevent her from dashing out the door. He paced the confines of the living room, waiting for the last of the madness to run its course. Laura lay on the floor, lashing out toward some unseen attacker, before her breathing became rapid, labored pants. White foam bubbled from her mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away. He'd become disillusioned with the system he'd given his life to shortly after discovering they'd screwed up royally in creating the virus. In a lab he'd watched a man succumb to it, changing into a soulless corpse. It'd been horrific the first time he'd witnessed it. Afterward Headquarters had assigned him to track down an infected woman outside of the facility. It was his duty as a super soldier to clean up their mistakes. Now he wanted nothing more than to see the lab destroyed, something he should've done in the first place. He should've listened to Doug and Max, two of the doctors from the early days of the project. Their warnings had come to pass, but he'd been a stubborn, misinformed jackass. Curled in the fetal position, Laura looked like a sick child, fragile and broken. His throat constricted, even though it was ridiculous to have feelings for someone you didn't know. He was military, Army Infantry, for Christ's sake, he knew how to pull a trigger without regret. Laura rolled onto her back, staring toward the ceiling with glassy eyes. Despite the tremulous hold she had on life, she was already dead. He existed as a government killing machine—an automaton they'd designed. Nothing more. He'd given his humanity away to the project. He wasn't much better than the corpses he hunted. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, baby. You were right, I deserved this, not you." His vision blurred when he stared down the barrel, the silencer aimed squarely between her eyes, his heart beating a crazed rhythm in his chest. His finger squeezed ever so slightly on the trigger. Outside a mourning dove called to its mate, a haunting song echoing in the room. He recalled a story from his youth about how a dove would arrive to carry a person's soul to the afterlife. If he believed in anything but the here and now, in that moment he would've thought it true. Laura's mouth gaped open, strangled noises escaping her throat, seizures taking her into death throes. He lowered his arm and thumped the butt of his gun against his thigh, waiting for the monster to appear. When she became the undead, when she moved to attack him, he'd have the power to destroy her. She deserved one last try to get the best of him. Maybe it wasn't Laura anymore, but he'd honor the fighting spirit within her. She'd never get past him, but if she took a piece of him in the process he'd have an excuse to end the whole goddamned thing here, in this stinking house. If he ever got infected his duty would be to put a bullet in his own head. Laura's body stilled, her eyelids drifting closed. Any moment… Her eyes popped wide open, her back arching. She sucked in a breath as if surfacing from deep waters. He turned his body sideways, leveling his gun in dead aim, waiting for the corpse to lunge. "Damian?"** Ooo, sounds interesting. Good luck with this, Olivia.
You can also find her on Facebook, or send her an e-mail. She loves to hear from readers. OliviaStarke@ymail.com
 Whether we recognize it or not, when we're attracted to someone, there's more going on than merely appreciating the way a person looks. We might unconsciously respond to how they move, the tonal quality of their voice, their laugh, and how they look at us before any physical contact ever takes place. All the planets might seem to be aligned, the ducks in a promising row and then ... pfft.
What happened? Why did this potential lover suddenly get relegated forever to friend status? Simple. Their scent simply didn't agree with us.
That's not to say there's anything wrong with it, not at all, but rather, it didn't hit the right note for us. Lest we forget, humans are animals too. We can't exactly go up and sniff each other like dogs do, but our nostrils are certainly engaged. We're picking up on smells, leaning in to get a discreet whiff of hair, testing the air for their subtle body odor underneath their chosen fragrance. If we like it, we move closer and linger. If not, we step back and nothing more develops there.
It's a matter of taste. We can no more label something so subtle and individual but we know when something works for us. As a reader and writer, I like love stories to include an olfactory response. They should. A person's scent is intimately entwined with how they'll taste.
The nose knows.
 Husbands get a pretty raw deal in sitcoms. The tried and true --or in my opinion-tired-- stereotypes are not kind to men wearing wedding bands.
They're usually shown as fairly unevolved, even in this day and age. Their interests are limited. They're always in hot water with their wives, and come across as thoughtless, inconsiderate, and egocentric. These men couldn't change a diaper or bathe their own children--even if they were willing-- without calling in a posse for help.
 I think about this formula and I groan. Honestly? Haven't we exhausted these scripts yet? Apparently not.
Now I should mention that I don't have cable or network television so I Netflix shows when they're recommended to me, oftentimes after they're cancelled. However, even delayed, I can tell you this; Everybody doesn't love Raymond and According to Jim, there's nothing original there either. Tim 'the tool man' Taylor is a disaster who couldn't think his way out of a box without his wife's help. Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin, Fred Flintstone, et al, are vulgar oafs whose wives' patience and love stretch the boundaries of sainthood.
I'd love to see more male characters with depth and devotion -- guys with brilliant comebacks and delicious zingers. Make them engaged and interesting and we'll be interested. It's easy to go with lazy lines and pratfalls. It takes no imagination whatsoever to write yet another selfish ass and make him look ridiculous. But that's so yesterday. I vote that we lose the playbook and let husbands evolve.
They shouldn't have to be the butt of the joke for cheesy laughs anymore.
 Ever since I made the decision to seriously pursue writing, I haven't had a single day off. I'm always logged-on in my head.
I wish that wasn't the case. A person really needs to escape the day job. But how do writers relax? Simple. They don't. They're tethered to the biz no matter where they are, what they're supposed to be doing. It's more invasive than simply having a phone to your ear because you can't hang up. You can't say, I'll get back to you. One thought morphs into the next. If New York is the city that never sleeps, you could say that a writer's head never gives it a rest.
If you're anything like me, you start to get the shakes if you haven't touched a keyboard in a few hours. You'll start looking around for a pen, a scrap of paper, anything so you can jot notes to yourself. I feel awful when my husband is telling me something and my mind drifts. My focus is lousy, horrible now. I find myself tuning out and dreaming up plot points, dialogue, sex scenes. Don't tell on me.
It was a beautiful day yesterday. I finished writing a short story, caught up on my social media messages, answered e-mails, did a little relevant reading, and decided I needed to get out in the sun, take the dog for a walk around the lake ... with my Nook in my hand. I barely looked up. I'm lucky I didn't wander into a tree. I've done that. Or trip. I've done that too.
Writers don't take actual weekends. We simply don't know how anymore.
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