Notorious’s Drool-Worthy Cover!

Merry Monday Morning!

Notorious-Jianne_Carlo-200x320OMG, I drooled when I saw the cover for Notorious, Wind Dancer Book Two.

Isn’t it totally scrumptious? Truly Georgia Woods of Hartwood Publishing does the best covers.

What a bod! And he totally looks exactly like I pictured Terrence O’Connor, my bad-ass hero (save for the long hair).

Of course, I’m going to start off your work week with an excerpt from Notorious. 

Notorious Excerpt:

***

“While I appreciate the view of your sweet little body, darlin’, you do realize that this is the men’s steam room, not the women’s?”

Naked, lying on a neon orange beach towel, eyes covered by one forearm, Jenny Su-Lin Taylor didn’t react.

At first.

As the whiskied baritone rumbled into her foggy tranquility, she jerked to a sitting position. Frantic eyes darted left, then right, and took a frenzied sweep of the mists swirling around the small chamber. A thousand Japanese Taiko drums pounded a war beat in her ears. Blood surged to the rhythm, pulsing hysterical tattoos at her wrists, throat, and temples.

She stopped breathing, moving, thinking, when eyes the color of storm clouds racing across a typhoon sky manacled her gaze.

Fantasy and reality merged.

Submerged.

Thor, God of Battle and Thunder, materialized through dissipating, opaque steam curls.

Naked.

High, sculpted cheekbones, a square, stubborn jawline chiseled by anvils, her most erotic fantasy come to life sprawled on the marble ledge opposite. Wheat-streaked hair fired with auburn glints brushed the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen. One knee bent, the man leaned on a thick, muscled forearm, Popeye biceps bulging.

He drained the oxygen out of Su-Lin’s lungs.

Out of the room.

All about her, magic pooled.

Balmy condensation caressed her shoulders, the barest sigh of enchantment escaped her lips, and the world, no, the universe, pivoted on the mythical deity reclining before her eyes, glorious in his nudity. She’s heartbeat cavorted into loud, insistent hammering, which swelled to fever pitch. She noticed small details—the way the faint dusting of golden hairs on his torso swirled to the right, a thick forefinger stroking peach-pink marble, his taut stomach lifting and falling.

Around his neck hung a gold chain, and a dazzling pendant with intricate engravings punctuated a chest so defined, so Norse god-like, her fingers tingled with the urge to trace each ridge…

Fire licked every inch of skin, flared up her spine, and connected with her brain, igniting a frenzied desire. She scrambled for the towel. Nails scraped the moist marble—she clutched shaky fingers around soft cotton and bounded off the bench. His size dwarfed all five–feet-five inches of her too-big-for-gymnastic-competition body.

A warrior-resolute gaze examined every inch of her roasting flesh, lingered on her B-cup breasts, and his mouth pursed as he studied her. The intensity of those slate eyes had her hands trembling, her fingers fumbling to drape the towel around her chest. She muttered a Mandarin curse when her waist-length, straight-as-a-pin black hair tangled with the wet material.

“You don’t have to leave, darlin’. We can always lock the door.”

Propped on an elbow, the man angled forward, full lips curling at the corners.

“I’m at your service, darlin’, whatever milady wishes.”

Her subconscious noted the slight hint of Irish brogue. Seconds later, his words registered, but their meaning took longer to comprehend.

She couldn’t manage anything more than a panted “Oh.”

The Pause button that had suspended her brain functions thus far clicked off. Fast-forward took over, and she twirled around, intent on escape.

“I like the view from behind too, darlin’. That’s one fine backside.” He ended his pronouncement with a chuckle, which made her skin smolder even more.

***

Now tell me you don’t agree—doesn’t the cover totally look like what Su-Lin’s just seen? Minus a particular body part, that is *evil grin*.

Have a marvelous Monday!

 

Manhandled, Wind Dancer Book One!

Manhandled, the first book in my contemporary series—Wind Dancer—releases in 4 weeks! And I have a cover. And oh yum, what a fricking cover!

Check this out my peeps!

The Wind Dancer Series:

Take a group of drop-dead hunky, ex-military men. Give them a luxury yacht—Wind Dancer—in the Mediterranean. Add women from different cultures, India, Hong Kong, and Haiti. Enjoy the wild, erotic ride when three sultry females and tangle with three dangerous men.

Manhandled-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

Manhandled Blurb:

Rolan Paxton, the Boston Buffalos’ celebrated wide receiver, dominates the football world for twelve years. Fame, fortune falls into his lap. He rides the rainbow, collecting championship game wins and women.

Sarita never thought she’d see Rolan again. Notre Dame recruited him two days after prom, two days after he took her virginity. What are the odds of her son’s father chartering the luxury yacht she’s crewing for twelve years later? And that he still makes her burn like he did on prom night?

Sarita wants Rolan, but she wants her independence.

Rolan’s a control freak bent on domination. Determined to master Sarita, Rolan slaps on the manacles—and turns this trip to Monaco into a pleasure cruise.

 

Here’s a few Tantalizing Quips From Manhandled:

***

“I don’t have a dad, right. It’s not the end of the world.”

Surely she hadn’t thought…no, she had thought it was a one-night stand.

“He’s mine. I raised him. You were only there for the conception.”

“He’s mine,” he roared and shot to his feet.

“You leave my mom alone. If you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.”

“Isn’t this just dandy? We’re already dysfunctional, and the family nucleus is in its infancy.”

“I took your virginity with all the finesse of a stampeding bull

“He’s my dad, isn’t he? You lied to me.”

Sarita stepped onto the deck and into an episode of rich and famous reality TV.

He was licentious, not her.

Who the hell was he to judge her?

Sarita did a little stripper’s sway.

Again,” he commanded. “Make that sexy noise again.”

“My fingers stay exactly where they are until I catch a second wind.”

“Right now, all I want to do is bring you off again.”

“I think I’m actually jealous of my fingers.”

“It’ll fit, Sarita. Just a matter of priming you first.”

“Rolan? You made up for that night.”

“Hell, I was having a hard time staying hard until I saw you.”

“Because you flaunt those titties.”

“You had little cupcakes. Where the hell did those tits come from?”

“Geoff wants to marry Mom. He’s got a castle, he’s rich, and he’ll take care of Mom.”

“Because he’s my son, and I’m proud of him.”

“You’re like a bulldozer, Rolan.”

“You think I’m a man-whore—”

“I’m not the ass I was three years ago.”

“I love your wickedly talented mouth.”

“How can you even think of food after that?”

“Because, Sarita honey, you’re dessert. And that’s my favorite course.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“But you did, right after we had dessert last night

“I can do things with a lobster that’d make your head spin

“I want to save that for our wedding night

“I want to savor this and go real slow

“Wrap your legs around my back. Hang on tight.”

“You’re so juicy and hot.”

“Tonight, we’re going to use both of these toys.”

Sex toys? Manacles? Blindfolds?

“Are you commando?”

“You’re afraid that you’ll like whatever I dish out, aren’t you?”

***

Hope you like!

Have a marvelous Monday!

Returning From Social Media Hibernation!

Prymal_Hunger-Jianne_Carlo--200x320It’s amazing how much you can get done when you take a social media vacation!

Honestly, I never realized how much of a time-suck updating FB, my blog, and tweeting was until the last couple of months.

I’m finally up to date on most of my projects.

Manhandled is finished—YAY!!!

Notorious, Carnal, Prymal Hunger, and Wulf are in the works.

And I’ve started three new Viking books!

I should take social media holidays more often, right? Maybe. But while I hunkered down in my EDJ and writing caves, summer ended, pumpkins are now everywhere, and I just know before I blink—the holidays will be on us!

Swear to all the gods out there—the globe spins faster from September to January 1st!!!!

Who doesn’t agree with that?

Here’s a tempting tease from Manhandled:

***

“Rolan, sweetie. You’re not eating. The food’s gonna get cold,” whined Cindy-something, breaking into his reminisces.

Rolan stifled another groan as he took in the clothes strewn across the burgundy Persian rug, the rumpled bed sheets, Cindy’s naked double-D breasts, the platinum nipple rings, and the diamonds dangling from her navel.

What had Sarita seen?

Closing his eyes, he tried to picture the scene she’d interrupted—Cindy on her haunches, one palm on his groin, his semi-erect prick. He choked back a howl. What a disastrous way to reunite with the girl who’d haunted his dreams for  the last twelve years. Shame had him stumbling back to the bed.

His knees collapsed and his butt slammed onto the mattress.

What a f**king man-whore he’d become. When had it happened? When had he gone from shiny and idealistic to contemptuous, egotistic, and unscrupulous? At least where women were concerned.

Elbows jammed onto his thighs, forehead propped in his palms, he closed his eyes against the mortifying ignominy burning his flesh. Sarita had once adored him, but now she must despise and scorn him.

And rightly so.

He didn’t even know Cindy’s last name. Didn’t care to know. The Rolan Sarita had known in high school might’ve been bigheaded, but never would he have sacrificed his morals. Shit to that. He’d abandoned any sexual ethics after his first Super Bowl win.

Twelve years ago, he’d taken Sarita’s virginity.

And on each twenty-ninth of May for every year since, he’d awoken aroused, with her face burned on his pupils. He’d learned after the first couple of years not to bother with substitutes, not when their faces were replaced by hers at the height of his climax.

He downed a glass of orange juice.

How had Sarita ended up on Sir Geoffrey Stanford’s yacht in Monte Carlo? Where had she been all this while?

***

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt

Merry manic Monday everyone!