My Alpha’s Sexy Cover!

My_Alpha-Jianne_Carlo-500x800If you’ve read any of my books, you might have noticed I hardly ever have faces on my covers. The reason for that is I love to imagine what the character looks like. If there’s a face on the cover, there’s nothing left to the imagination. That said, I’m in lust with the guy on My Alpha’s cover. He’s exactly how I pictured my hero, Joe.

Blurb:

Susie White wants no picket fences, no alpha, and no cubs. White wolf woman she may be, but no pack for her, no sireee. Alpha me not, that’s her motto. In all caps.

Half-breed wolf Joe Huroq’s not looking for a mate. His job in international security’s too dangerous and too erratic for relationships. Stop and go screwing, that’s his motto—hot and heavy between missions.

Then he glimpses his new neighbor tanning nude and the situation explodes.

Literally. Susie’s house is consumed by fire. What’s Joe to do but offer Susie sanctuary?

Susie can’t resist the temptation of hunky bad-ass Joe. She suggests a friends with benefits arrangement, which he accepts with remarkable alacrity. The sex is frantic, steaming, and non-stop. Neither one can keep their hands off the other.

Then Joe’s best friend’s son is kidnapped on the way home from school, the fire’s deemed arson, and two other kids go missing.

A serial killer’s on the loose, and he has Susie in his sights.

Susie refuses to accept Joe’s mate claim.

Can he keep her safe when she won’t obey a single order?

Here’s how Susie sees Joe:

Susie stared at Joe. He wasn’t handsome by any conventional standards. The craggy features, the myriad faded scars above his right temple, and the crooked nose didn’t soften the harsh lines of his features but added a piratical, brooding aura that ambushed the senses—hers anyway. He wasn’t the kind of man to do anything by halves, not Joe Huroq, and he was giving her fair warning, big-time. Whatever was going to happen between them would be temporary…and exciting. Gawd, all her woman parts were on overdrive.

What do you prefer – face or no face?

Merry Monday!

Cheers,

The Dorland Brothers and Ginger Tart!

Soul_Deep-Jianne_Carlo-200x320Today, I’m celebrating the release of my latest paranormal, SOUL DEEP.

Mike Dorland, the hero of  SOUL DEEP, reluctantly agrees to accompany his gregarious, publicity-loving younger brother, Drake, to the television studio where he will be interviewed by local celebrity, Ginger Tart.

A professional poker player, Mike distrusts and dislikes media professionals. He’s been burned too often by their outright lies and scandalous innuendo. Although he’s determined to stay in the background, Mike doesn’t count on Drake’s mischievous manipulations or Ginger Tart’s obvious attraction to him.

Here’s what happens when Mike and Drake arrive at MMTV4, Makinac’s local television studio.

***

Mike Dorland scanned the TV set and focused in on Ginger Tart, the hostess of Makinac’s county most popular talk show. Thirty-ish, voluptuous curves, and a mane of wavy hair the color of the spice she was named for. He sighed. She was exactly his brother’s type. He elbowed Drake and attempted to offer his kid brother salient advice. “Try not to hit on her, Drake. She’s hot, but recently divorced.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Puh-lease. I like my women with a little meat on them. Those rail-thin types do nothing for me.”

“That’s not Ginger Tart you’re looking at. She’s standing behind you.”

Mike winced when Drake pivoted and blew out a prolonged wolf-whistle. “For crap’s sake, why’d you do that? Now she’s glaring mayhem and murder at both of us.”

“Got her attention, didn’t I? I could eat her up. Literally. Come on. Let’s introduce ourselves.” Drake shoved Mike and dragged him forward.

“You’re doing the interview, not me. Why do I have to meet her?” Mike let his muscles go slack. But even though he resisted Drake’s momentum, in less than thirty seconds the two White Wolves stood right in front of Ginger Tart.

Drake held out his hand and clasped Ginger’s. “Hi, Ginger. Drake Dorland. This is my big bro, Mike. Thank you for agreeing to interview us.”

Us? Mike gnashed his back molars. He stamped his heavy steel-toed CAT boot on Drake’s moccasin-clad foot.

“Ouch. You just about broke every toe, Mike. You’ll have to excuse my big brother’s scowl and temper. Horniness tends to make him real ornery. Tell me you’re not taken—”

“Shut your trap, Drake.” Mike inserted himself in front of his dead meat sibling. “I apologize on my idiot brother’s behalf, Ms. Tart—”

“Ginger, please Mike. Drake’s reputation preceded him. I’ve heard all about his relentless flirting. Nothing beats the speed of gossip in Mackinac County. I have to say I’m a big fan of yours. When you won your first poker championship, I begged management to let me cover it. I even offered to pay my own way, but…” She shrugged.

Mike’s face heated. He never knew how to react to effusive fans. “Er, thanks.”

“Actually, if you’re not doing anything after we finish taping, maybe we could grab a drink at The Wahzoo? My friends and I recently started playing Texas Hold ’Em, and I’d love to get your take on how to win.” Ginger leaned forward and ran a finger along Mike’s forearm. The cleavage exposed by her scooped neckline plumped.

Mike cleared his throat.

“He’d love to have a drink with you.” Drake butted in front of Mike.

“I warned you, Drake. Stop being an ass,” Mike snapped. “I appreciate the invite, Ginger. But I’m planning on seeing my fiancée, Melanie White, tonight.”

Ginger’s blue eyes popped. She sighed. “Figures. All the good ones are taken.”

Ginger insisted on including Mike in the session no matter how vociferous his protests. He endured the thirty-minute Q&A and only relaxed when Ginger announced she’d end the interview with a word association game.

“Paint,” Ginger said.

Mike retorted, “Chocolate.”

“Wrists.”

“Cuffs.”

Ginger tsked. “Blindfold.”

“Fun.”

“Woman.”

“Mate—help-mate.” Mike cringed.

“No self-correction. First thing that pops into your mind. Let’s continue. Sexy.”

“Melanie.”

“Wife.”

“Melanie.”

“I must say that whoever Melanie is, she’s one lucky woman. Okay, let’s wrap up with your favorites. Favorite Color?”

“Blue.”

“Food?”

“Chili.”

“Dessert?”

“Melanie.”

***

 

I hope your enjoyed Mike and Drake’s interview with Ginger Tart. What are your word associations with:

Paint

Wrists

Blindfold

Sexy??

 

Two of my books—SINNER & PRYMAL LUST— are FREE on Amazon this month, so please download them! Here are the links:

http://tinyurl.com/SinnerHadesSquad-1

http://tinyurl.com/Prymal-1

Have a Magnificent Monday!

Cheers,

Jianne

And The White Wolf Series Begins!

Soul_Deep-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

Yesterday, the first book in my White Wolf series—Soul Deep—became available for pre-order on Amazon at this link:

http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Deep-White-Wolf-Pack-ebook/dp/B01D2703UY/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1458490606&sr=1-1&keywords=soul+deep+carlo

Uber-talented Georgia Woods created the cover and the look for the series and I’m thrilled with the results – what do you think?  Thumbs up or down?

I love the black and white. It’s intriguing and mysterious and certainly sets the mood of the story, which is sexy and suspenseful.

In other news, I handed in Prymal Hunger yesterday. Hopefully, I’ll have a release date for everyone soon.

So far, here’s my release schedule for 2016:

Soul Deep       April 7, 2016

My Alpha       June  2, 2016

Wolf Raider   August 4, 2016

Gray Wolf      October 6, 2015

Prymal Hunger will fit in somewhere in there and  I’ve yet to find out when my Viking Warriors series will be re-released. In other news, on the contemporary scene, I’m working on two brand new series tentatively titled—Sanctuary—and—Secrets. For the Viking lovers out there, I’m in the middle of my first tale in the new Viking Invasion series—Wùlfe. I’m hoping that one will release before the end of 2016—keep your fingers and toes crossed for me!

Have a magnificent Monday!

Cheers,

 

Sinner #1 in Military Romance and #3 in Romance, Mystery & Suspense, Suspense!!!

Yay! Guess what – Sinner’s #1 in Military Romance & #3 in Romance > Mystery & Suspense > Suspense!!! 

I had, had to take a screen shot from the Sinner Amazon page!

Product Details

What a terrific way to end the year!

 

Thanks to all my readers and those BookBub readers who decided to take a chance on Sinner. I wouldn’t still be writing without you all.

My best wishes for a happy, healthy, and prosperous 2016!!!

A Peek at Carnal, Wind Dancer Book Three!

It’s difficult for an author to admit that she has a favorite hero or heroine. It’s kind of like admitting you have a favorite child.

That said—I’m totally gaga for Harrison Indiana Ford, whose mother named him after the actor. I had to give him the middle name Indiana, because Indiana Jones (the first one) is one of my all-time favorite movies.

Of course that also means that I adore the actor—Harrison Ford. I’ve loved him in almost every role. But, I prefer his quirky, cynical roles best—him as Hans Solo in Stars Wars and Indiana Jones make me swoon like an adolescent with a HUGE crush. And that crush transference happened with the hero of Carnal. So today, here’s a sneak preview of Harrison Indiana Ford and Martine Bellamy’s romance.

Carnal-Jianne_Carlo-200x320

Blurb:

Money, power, and women, all come easy to Harrison Indiana Ford. Yet he wants more -to ensure his daddy’s oil fortune goes to him – not Delora – the stepmother who seduced him as a teenager. If Harry doesn’t marry a virgin and produce an heir before he turns thirty-two, Delora inherits it all. D-day and unpredictable circumstances force Harry to hire a matchmaker and marry a stranger.

Martine’s survived the streets of Haiti’s capital with her virginity intact, but she’s no innocent. Fleeing persecution, she stows away on a cargo ship, and enters France illegally. Desperate for the million Euro Harry offers so she can bring her ailing grandmother to France, she signs the pre-nuptial contract using forged documents.

Delora’s not about to let a billion dollars slip through her hands. There are too many ways to sabotage a relationship, prevent a pregnancy. And it’s so easy to foster suspicion and hatred where there’s no trust. What Delora doesn’t count on is the explosive sexual relationship that develops between Harry and Martine.

As lust morphs into caring, Delora’s detectives search for Martine’s hidden secrets. How did Martine get from Haiti to France?

 

Excerpt from Carnal:

***

They took a taxi to the yacht, and Harry had them in his quarters before Martine could blink.

She did a graceful pirouette, arms flung wide, spinning on one foot and lifting her face to his. “Merci, Harry. Thank you. Thank you. Never have I had such a wonderful meal.” She hugged herself. “I will treasure this night always.”

“So will I.” And he meant every word. “Come with me, Mrs. Ford.” He crooked a finger.

She took two steps forward, set her palms on his chest, and their gazes fastened. “Is it now that we play your Blind Man’s game?”

He almost fell over his own feet he laughed so hard. “Have you been thinking about it all evening?” He  swiped the moisture from his cheek.

“Austen explained you bluff in poker. I did not know this term. But it is like a dare, non?” She’d taken a seat on the mattress and shed her sandals. Her big toe traced the curves of the paisley pattern in the rug by the bed. “But where do we find the blind man? And who is nekkid?”

Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he didn’t want to shatter their fragile camaraderie, so he worked up a smile to soften his words. “I’d lay Powerball odds you’re an orphan.”

“I can prove you wrong,” she declared.

Harry mirth disappeared when she imitated Delora’s voice, accent, and intonation perfectly. Probably a fluke. “Do that again.”

A smile played with the corners of her lips. She shot him a sideswipe.

“Don’t for a second think smashing my cell… I have plenty of backups of that picture,” she said, all in Delora’s voice.

That sniper-in-the-vicinity dread raked the hairs on his forearms. “Jesus. I never know what to expect from you.”

He strode to the bed and sat next to her, choking back the sourness filling his mouth. “Can you do other voices?”

“You are angry with me.” She shrank away, shuffling her feet in the direction of the headboard.

Harry changed his tactics. “I take it you’ve never played Blind Man’s Bluff?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Harry explained the game to her between kisses and stripping off her skirt, thong, and bra, leaving her blouse on but loosened to bare her breasts. When they were both hot and bothered, he retrieved a tie from the closet and wrapped the red strip of silk around her palm.

“Tie it around my eyes,” he instructed.

When she had him good and truly trussed, he swung into a horizontal position, rested his head in his hands, and elucidated, “Rule number one. You get to do anything you want. Have anything you want. Stop anytime you want. It’s all about you. The goal of the game is to identify whatever you’re holding or touching or kissing.”

Harry made a mental note to remember to tell Austen the new rules of the game.

“And rule number two?”

“I get a turn after you.”

~~~~~

Martine couldn’t remember ever feeling like this—giddy and delirious, alive and free. All during dinner she went over his every word on the bench—the promise of a house, money each month, security.

Do you mean this, Harrison Indiana Ford?

A miniscule part of her yearned to forget all the lessons she’d learned about men, to erase the past and believe in him. The other part, the part that ruled, called her the worst sort of idiot.

She sat on her haunches, all too conscious of Harry naked on the bed, of her nudity, and the ugly scars on her back.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Martine.” Harry  turned his head on the pillow, easily pinpointing her direction despite the blindfold. “Tell me what you want.”

Working up the courage to answer, she inhaled the aromas of the candles, a cleansing ginseng fragrance, and on her exhale she skittered closer and brushed her lips on the cusp of his shoulder. Admiring his bulging muscles, the sharp indentation midarm to his elbow, she ran her fingers down his warm flesh. The nuns avoided all mention of body parts and workings, and she’d reached adulthood vaguely aware of how coupling occurred.

“What is this muscle, Harry?” She squeezed the thickest part of his arm.

For a few seconds he didn’t answer, and her stomach went all jittery.

“That’s the deltoid. Feels good when you do that.”

“You have beautiful shoulders, strong, and I can see where each muscle begins and ends.” She bent to kiss a taut spot near the crook of his neck. “And this?”

Her exhale sifted a lock of warm brown hair curling around a vein that went all the way to his ear. Unable to resist, she traced the throbbing vessel, nuzzling the damp flesh cording his throat.

“Trapezius,” he elucidated, his voice low and husky.

“I know these.” She  placed her palms flat on his chest. “Pectorals. Men are so different here from women.”

“Praise the Lord almighty,” Harry muttered.

“So strong,” she murmured, fingering a ridged groove of flesh extending from the middle of his torso. “This is the six-pack, non? Three here and three on the other side. This one lower than its mate.”

On impulse she leaned over and used the tip of her tongue to trace each grove. Harry intoxicated her senses. She grew drunk on his now familiar Harry fragrance—soap, the CK aftershave she’d discovered in the bathroom, and a spiciness all his own. Her ears filled with his each rasped inhale, each muffled grunt, and the occasional hiss when she hit a sensitive spot.

Her tongue absorbed the slight musk and salt in the taste of him, and she closed her eyes to savor his flavor and smell, hoping she’d always be able to conjure the aroma after their year ended. She laid her cheek to his belly and ran a finger around the rim of his navel. A film of sweat coated his skin there, making the ridges outlining his taut belly glisten.

***

Hope you enjoyed!

Have a Marvelous Monday!