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Fool For Love

I have been this. In fact, I don't think I have ever spent much time being alone ever since I discovered the opposite sex. I mean, why? Things are so much better.

I'm thinking of all the lines about Love and Sex I've used over the years. Here are a couple of them that stand out to me:

1.  “I was looking for Mr. Perfect and forgot to look for Mr. Right.”  SEAL The Deal

2.  “I am still willing to be your meal.”   Honeymoon Bite

3.  “He had the brass band, the pom poms and the cheerleaders all working for him now.” SEAL My Destiny

4.    “Sometimes things that are oh so good for you are also bad for you.”  Fallen SEAL Legacy

5.    “Too small,” he whispered. When she turned to look, his eyes focused on her lips. Her knees were shaking. She melted when she heard him murmur, “But it will have to do.”     Accidental SEAL

6.    “Life is full of complications.”      Heavenly Lover

7.    “I like entangled. I like rich and deep and I like to be sorely missed when I'm gone.” SEAL My Destiny

8.    “I'm entranced by your scent. Do you taste as good?”   Mortal Bite

9.    “Because,” he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, “she won't be afraid to tell me what I need to do to please her, with or without the pajamas.”  SEAL Under Covers

And to wrap up, here is an excerpt from one of my favorite books that gets little love. So, today, won't you love a tiny bit of it? It is the meeting between Josh and Melanie and sets off the uncontrollable craving of the Dark Angel for the human woman who runs a flower shop.

It involves the crushing of some beautiful red roses. How perfect for Valentine's Day. Enjoy:

Excerpt from Underworld Lover:

             Josh
then walked briskly across the street, dodging traffic, toward the gated
opening. Music was playing in the background, laced with birdcalls. Colorful
birdhouses of various shapes were affixed to poles grounded in large
earth-filled pots.
 Homes and castles for the fine-feathered
things I hate
. Josh saw
them as nuisances and impediments to his late morning sleep. He didn’t think it
was natural anything could be that happy all the time.
            Pots of large showy pink and purple hydrangeas
along with lemon bushes overloaded with deep yellow fruit and fragrant white
blossoms formed the next line in front of the birdhouses. On the floor, tucked
away randomly, were shallow pots filled with blooming spring flowers in all the
colors possible. Josh’s nose itched. He hadn’t seen so much blooming color
since his last trip to the Farmer’s Market to visit his friend Simon, the
electric cellist who liked to play his sad music and pick up girls.
            She’d
probably like one of Simon’s CDs.
He made a point to get one to her right
away. Embedded in the music was a very subtle NLP message a human could not
hear except subconsciously; praying for sex, praying for death.
            Josh walked through the entrance and
was assaulted with a big bouquet of red roses that was moving so fast he was
unable to stop before impact. Immediately he felt the crush of the delicious
red flora. They emitted their syrupy sweetness through petals that fell on the
shoulders and blond head of a beautiful young woman with light pink skin. She
looked up at his face, hers registering shock. Her eyes were wide and deep blue
as the sky. He was drowning—his heart stopped for a second. The scent of thyme
herbal hand cream, fresh lemon soap, and lip-gloss infused with a cherry flavor
filled his nostrils. He knew that if he willed her, he could make her stand in
front of him, raise her chin, part her lips for him, and beg he claim her.
And, as gratifying as it would be, he
didn’t want to make her do it. At last, he shared something in common with
Felix.

            He wanted to keep her from being captured.

Send me proof that you've purchased SEALed With A Kiss and have also shared that purchase on FB, and I'll gift you one of my audio books of your choice.
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

8

Halloween – May the Honeymoon of your Bites Continue!

I remember attending my first RWA Convention in New York several years ago. I sat in on a JR Ward panel discussion about writing Alpha heroes. Her comment was something like this:

Is there anything so exciting, so masculine as a big, dark alpha male vampire?

I sat there blinking, my heart pounding as I realized the answer to that was, “No.”

So this is Halloween. Last day of the month of October, legendary amongst Pagans and Christians alike. Shrouded in mystery, myth and whatever else we want to throw in there – the possibility of danger and the excitement of a new adventure, I'm re-printing the chapter I just love from Honeymoon Bite where the Hero, Marcus Monteleone, meets his long searched for fated female, Anne. What Anne doesn't know is that Marcus is the one who turned her, after he found her left for dead. Since he'd spent 300 years searching for his one fated female, he couldn't just let the life drain from her. And he has been ordered by the Vampire Council to wait 30 days before he can re-contact her. So, she has no clue who he really is, or how her life is about to change forever, in ways she could never imagine.
For those of you from Sonoma County, I wrote this scene in a purple velvet chair in the corner of the Bennett Valley Starbuck's. I can still remember that day.
Enjoy this little tidbit. Love my stepchild of a book that gets no love. At least on Halloween, spend some time with my injured Alpha male vampire and his soon-to-be bride:

“Does your husband know about your appetites?” From behind
Anne came a gravelly male voice that sent shivers down her spine. The screams
of the Starbuck’s espresso machine made her wonder if she’d really heard the
voice. But the male scent of him was impossible to miss. The hairs at her neck
stood at attention, telegraphing urgency. The urgent sensation extended well
beyond her waistline. Time stood still before she could bring herself to turn
around and fall under the warm gaze from this tall dark male that covered her.
Not man. Male.
He held her gaze as she stood, transfixed, unable to move or
to speak. That was the way it felt. Being held. “I’m sorry?” she blurted out
finally.
“Don’t be sorry, my dear. It’s a simple question.” The ends
of his lips curled up at the corners. When he inhaled, his chest extended, and
he appeared several inches taller. Then he exhaled and she was covered with the
same musky scent, incapacitating her, wrapping around her like a warm shroud.
It was familiar.
She heard mournful viola music drip with slides and rifts
that pulled on her heartstrings. She felt dizzy. Did she hear him murmur a
groan? Or maybe it was a small earthquake? Probably an ordinary person wouldn’t
hear or feel it. But she did.
Anne was on alert; this male took liberties with her
feelings.
What a crazy thought.
Ridiculous.
He leaned forward, grazing just the edge of her forearm with
his warm hand. An electric spark pricked her. He leaned against the counter and
looked at the barista, not her. “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.”
She noticed the strong pulse at his neck. Healthy. Smells wonderful.
“And what would you
like, sir?” The young barista was pert. Anne didn’t like her perfect white
teeth. That and the fact the girl’s shirt was made for a ten-year-old,
showcasing her pierced bellybutton.
“I have all I need.” The rumbling words sparked shivers
again down Anne’s spine. He said it just next to her ear, barely touching the
small of her back . . . He was facing the barista, but deep inside Anne knew
the words were meant for her ears only.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Anne suddenly found the urge
to speak.
“My pleasure.” He removed his hand and gave a slight bow.
A bow? No one had ever done that before. Anne
had just fed. She wasn’t hungry enough to play the game this afternoon, having
gorged herself on a salesman who liked to eat garlic fries. His blood was thick
with fat globules she could almost see as well as taste. But it went down
smooth.
So maybe she would play along. This stranger might be a good
candidate for a snack tomorrow. She had never fed twice in one day. She
wondered what being too full would feel like in her current state. It would
probably make her horny. Well then, maybe she should reconsider. She should do
a wet feeding. That way she wouldn’t have to be too careful, could gorge
herself on him. He’d be wonderful to look at in the shower, and his hands might
do something unexpected to her. Something memorable in a string of unmemorable
feedings.
His hand gently touched the small of her back again, and she
allowed herself to be ushered to a corner table, flanked by two purple velvet
overstuffed chairs. They sat, facing at right angles to each other. The counter
girl called out Anne’s drink. He was up and walking over to pick it up for her before
she had a chance to react.
She watched him cross the coffeehouse like a thirsty
traveler eyeing a pitcher of water. He was probably six foot six. His dark hair
was pulled back in a short ponytail. His black leather bomber jacket showed his
nice ass and those long lanky legs that went all the way to Heaven. Even for
his size, he appeared graceful. Unassuming. Confident. And the nicest looking
male from behind that she had ever seen.
And then he turned, holding the little white paper cup with
two fingers, the other ones splayed out, large as antlers. She could see how
long his fingers were, how substantial. She envisioned what those hands could
do to her. But as sexy as he was, he also made her mouth water to feed.
His prominent jaw line sported blue-black stubble. His
strong pulse would be no problem at all, but she would have to bite a little
harder to crack the skin. Maybe he would let her take him slowly. Then she
could kiss other parts of him in between while his heart pumped more of the
blood she craved. His lips were bright red and full. She would enjoy sucking
them, licking them. Perhaps biting them.
His eyes found their way to hers, and when she met his gaze,
she became self-conscious of her thoughts, as if somehow he could read her mind.
Anne told herself it was her craving for blood that caused the almost sexual
attraction for this male. After she fed, surely she wouldn’t feel this way, she
thought.
He delicately deposited the white cup in her hands. One finger
touched and almost rubbed against hers. She thought she was imagining the
touch, of course. Between her legs, a warm pool had formed. It was a curious
place to feel hunger, a hunger of another kind. She blushed at her erotic
thoughts.
“You like cappuccino?” He seemed intrigued by the idea.
Dancing eyes, all over her upper torso, his breathing steady but deepening.
“Yes. I need the caffeine in the afternoon.”
That little hitch in his throat, almost like a moan of
surprise. “And here I thought your 
cheeks were flushed and ripe from a good
meal.” Those black eyes peered right to her soul. Almost as an afterthought, he
smiled, and the dark became brown, ringed with a coppery color that drew her
in.
I’ll play your game.
“Yes. After a big meal, I get tired sometimes.”
He nodded. “I remember that.”
Anne looked out the window. This was beginning to feel
dangerous. She grabbed her drink and stood. He stopped her by placing one hand
on her wrist. His action was soft, but deliberate. This male won’t be denied.
“Please, sit just a little longer. Then I’ll let you go home
to your husband.”
“Go? You’ll let me go? What kind of talk is that? I think .
. .” She began to rise again, but his firm grip on her forearm stopped her.
“Hear me out just a bit.” He did appear to be begging. Could
it be she saw a flash of pain there? No
way.
“How do you know I’m married?” she snapped out, letting her
impatience show.
“You wear a wedding ring.” He fingered her ring slowly,
sensually. She let him touch her, perhaps a bit too long. She was going to
correct his misconception but decided to leave him thinking she was protected
by another man. Safer that way.
But was she looking for safe?
There was an obvious physical attraction between them. She
had not felt this before, not since before she was made.
“Do I know you?” she asked, ignoring the comment about her
marriage.
“No. Ask it another way.” The huskiness of his voice made
her ears buzz, like he was brushing his lips across them, like they were in bed
whispering unmentionable things to each other.
“Do you know me?” Her eyebrows rose at the ridiculous
suggestion that seemed to be planted in her brain from somewhere else.
He very lightly nodded, his obsidian eyes flashing. “Oh,
yes. I have waited a long, long time for you.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Anne jumped up, her
coffee in her hand. She slung her purse over her right shoulder and stormed off.
He followed her outside, keeping pace like they were walking in unison. She
stopped suddenly.
“Look. Whoever you are, I will call the police if you don’t
leave me alone.”
“And tell them what?”
“Tell them there is a very strange male following me,
bothering me.”
He groaned again. The ground beneath her feet rumbled when
he did that. “I like that you say male.”
She backed up, raising her palms up and out in his
direction. “Please, please leave me alone.”
“Agree to meet me here tomorrow at this time and I won’t
follow you.” He smiled. “I promise.” He held his hand over his heart. Anne felt
a small tug at her own, as well as an ache down below.
“Alright,” she said, willing herself to say no when her body
wanted to say yes. She’d wrestle with her decision if she could just get away
from him right now. This coffee house would have to be forever off her list. “Tomorrow
at four. But I will call the cops if you don’t stop this, this, way you are being—”
He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her close his chest. She
struggled, but he held her tighter the more she wiggled, and yet she enjoyed
the physical play between them. No matter how hard she fought, he would win. She
softened and heard his sharp inhale. The spice on his cheeks was a familiar
scent to her and, relaxed her just enough so she wouldn’t collapse entirely
being so close to him. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Go for now,
little one. But as for leaving you alone, there isn’t a chance in Hell that
will ever happen. See you tomorrow.”
And then he was gone. Just gone. Nowhere to be found. She
turned around and around and there was no trace of him. No car leaving the
parking lot. No door being opened. Just the normal day all around her.
She was hungry and scared. She liked feeling both emotions
equally.
She knew it was going to be forever until four o’clock
tomorrow.
A feeding would take up the next hour. Only twenty-three
more to go.
Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.

6

Reviving Dark and Shameless Stories for Halloween

Who doesn't love a good Halloween haunting story? Like dusty old vamps that come back to life at night, I've neglected my paranormal series and have chosen Sable Hunter's blog hop to kick it off. So help me show it some love.

Two years ago, my husband and I attended the Afterlife party in San Francisco, at the Julia Morgan Ballroom. I went as an angel, and my husband a vampire. We had a ball. There were little green faeries, pods of Smurfs, vamps, sexy witches, ghosts and costumes of famous people. Music was rockin.

I used that party (and of course embellished it) to use in a chapter for Mortal Bite, Book 2 in the Golden Vampires of Tuscany series. My hero, Paolo Monteleone, is a real life Golden Vampire. He dresses as himself for this party, and there, meets a beautiful young college professor who studies vampire literature and lore.

Here is a very brief excerpt from Mortal Bite where the hero is readying himself for that great Halloween costume party where his life will change forever:

Paolo Monteleone swirled the black cape around his body as he checked the
guest chamber’s full-length mirror. The fabric arrived at his knees and calves
well after he stopped spinning, and then draped back away to sway a few inches
from the floor. He could see his face in the polished sheen of his shoes.. The
tux and red cummerbund, an elegant presentation, belonged to his brother,
Marcus, but it fit him perfectly. Marcus’s man had done well. The costume was a
fitting outfit for any good vampire gentleman.
It had been a year since he’d returned to Italy, repairing the damage
he’d caused his brother and his new wife. A year of learning to be a father to
his son, making amends to the other Monteleone family members who at first
didn’t trust that he wouldn’t run off again and try to live as the mortal he

wasn’t.

When Marcus and Anne graciously invited him to join them in California
wine country, Paolo immediately agreed. The change of scenery was doing him
good. Tonight he was going to attend his first party without a member of his
family.
The door burst open and Lucius, all four feet of him, raced straight for
Paolo. The boy wore his Superman cape and red boots—rain boots, to be
exact—with all the pride of the superheroes he loved to emulate.
Paolo bent over and lifted his son, pressed the flesh of this little
superhero to his chest and nuzzled just under the boy’s right ear. The fresh
smell of his mortality was the most satisfying moment of Paolo’s day. Eventually,
Lucius would have to make the choice whether to remain mortal or become golden
vampire. But not yet. Not until he was of age.
“And just where are you heading out to? Anne taking you
trick-or-treating? It’s not Halloween yet,” he murmured affectionately into the
side of the boy’s face.
Lucius drew back and his dark eyes flashed at his father, which always
managed to melt Paolo’s heart.
“I’m going with you to the party, father.” His coppery brown eyes and
pink cheeks made him look sweet despite the heavy, jagged, and uneven eye
makeup he must have applied himself.
“Lucius, you could hurt yourself putting all that kohl around your eyes.
You should have asked your aunt for help.”
“Well, Anne and Marcus…” the boy paused and blushed.  “They’re busy all the time.”
“Ahhhhh,” Paolo said. He envied his brother and his long-awaited fated
female and their new baby. The fact that Marcus found Anne after three hundred
years of searching meant there might still be hope for him. Not a fated female,
but someone to love and be loved in return.
A shadow suddenly covered his heart, and gave him a chill. He composed
himself and addressed his son.
“Lucius, time enough for parties when you’re older. This one is for
grownups only. Not for…”
“Kids,” Lucius finished with resignation. “But I want to go. You will protect me, father.”
Indeed he could. Not an hour went by when Paolo wasn’t fearful of the
fact that Lucius, still mortal, could die, and Paolo, vampire, would be left to
grieve for all eternity.

Come back to visit tomorrow, and you'll get to read some of the hero/heroine's first ghoulish words to each other. Spoken over a thick glass of port.

Today and tomorrow, we're going to have a giveaway, a $50 Amazon gift card for each day. In order to win, you must leave a comment here. Answer this question: What do you love the most about reading vampires? If you email me at sharonhamilton2001@gmail.com, you will get a special Blood Never Lies necklace as pictured above. One $50 winner will be announced on this blog site at midnight  tonight! But, even if you don't win the Amazon gift card, you can still win one of these blood dog tags just for leaving a comment here today. Enjoy, and thanks for showing up today.

Don't forget to find the schedule of all the other blogs participating in this huge event by clicking on the Halloween Blog Hop button at the upper right of this page. Tell everyone about what you've read and commented here. The Main Event is October 26th at 5 PM on Facebook. Details on the button above.

Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.
86

Lucky In Love Blog Hop

Welcome to my twisted version of Lucky in Love for the famous blog hop of the same name. Since I'm promoting my newest book, Mortal Bite, I'm talking about 300 year old Golden Vamps getting lucky. So here is  the list of the top 10 worst things he could say.

Between today and the 18th at midnight, you must leave me a comment with your email address, telling me which one is your favorite (or give me one of your own). I will pick 10 winners to get a free book of your choice: Book 1, Honeymoon Bite or Book 2 Mortal Bite. One lucky winner will win a poster signed by Jimmy Thomas himself! Although the grand swag prize is not international, I will send the poster ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!! Yes, I love my international fans! I sent a poster to Latvia last blog hop.

Here's my top 10 list of what a Golden Vamp should never say if he wants to get lucky:

10.   You're a real dine and ditch, sweetheart.

9.     You taste a little “gamey”– are you vegetarian?
8.     I don't eat red meat.
7.     You taste older than you look.
6.     Maybe you should cut back on the garlic fries.
5.     For being 400 years old, you're rather yummy.
4.     Where's the beef?
3.     Are you free range?
2.     Stop shaking or I'll make a mess.

And the #1 thing he DEFINITELY should never say:

1.     I'll take mine neat and frightened, but not scrambled.

Don't forget to leave your email address if you want to be entered in the drawing.

Go to the other sites for more chances to win prizes and a chance at the grand prize by clicking here.  Good Luck!!

Watch Mortal Bite book trailer.

2

Golden Vamps and No Teenage Angst: Free

For a couple of days, my Honeymoon Bite will be free. As of this morning, it has soared in 24 hours to the #6 spot for Freebie Amazon in the Fantasy category. Almost in the top 100 overall.

So, if Edward and Bella's story has got you craving for more, take a gander at some adult entertainment. Strictly over 18 stuff, but I'm proud of the redemption through true love, which is the thread throughout all my books.

I loved writing this, my first vampire story. Book 2 is next, after lauch of the Fallen SEAL Legacy.

I know, I know. SEALs and vamps, you say? Well, these are fictionalized stories based on legend, myth and snippets of things I've either read or discussed with other people. Like any good storyteller, I take the things I didn't like from some of the vamp stories, like their plumbing issues (thank you Anne Rice for your great characters, but no thanks on the lack of sex), and their need to sleep in a coffin (love True Blood but it's getting kinda out there, still fun) and need to stay out of the sun–and I fixed those problems. Why? Because I can.

Enjoy!

Excerpt, Honeymoon Bite:

“Does your husband know about your appetites?”
From behind Anne came a gravelly male voice that sent shivers down her spine.
The screams of the Starbuck’s espresso machine made her wonder if she’d really
heard the voice. But the male scent of him was impossible to miss. The hairs at
her neck stood at attention, telegraphing urgency. The urgent sensation
extended well beyond her waistline. Time stood still before she could bring
herself to turn around and fall under the warm gaze from this tall dark male
that covered her.
Not man. Male.
He held her gaze as she stood,
transfixed, unable to move or to speak. That was the way it felt. Being held.
“I’m sorry?” she blurted out finally.
“Don’t be sorry, my dear. It’s a simple
question.” The ends of his lips curled up at the corners. When he inhaled, his
chest extended, and he appeared several inches taller. Then he exhaled and she
was covered with the same musky scent, incapacitating her, wrapping around her
like a warm shroud. It was familiar.
She heard mournful viola music drip with
slides and rifts that pulled on her heartstrings. She felt dizzy. Did she hear
him murmur a groan? Or maybe it was a small earthquake? Probably an ordinary
person wouldn’t hear or feel it. But she did.
Anne was on alert; this male took
liberties with her feelings.
What
a crazy thought. Ridiculous.
He leaned forward, grazing just the edge
of her forearm with his warm hand. An electric spark pricked her. He leaned
against the counter and looked at the barista, not her. “I’ll pay for the lady’s
drink.”
She noticed the strong pulse at his neck.
Healthy. Smells wonderful.
“And what would you like, sir?” The young barista was pert. Anne didn’t like her
perfect white teeth. That and the fact the girl’s shirt was made for a
ten-year-old, showcasing her pierced bellybutton.
“I have all I need.” The rumbling words
sparked shivers again down Anne’s spine. He said it just next to her ear,
barely touching the small of her back . . . He was facing the barista, but deep
inside Anne knew the words were meant for her ears only.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Anne
suddenly found the urge to speak.
“My pleasure.” He removed his hand and
gave a slight bow.
A
bow?
No one had ever
done that before. Anne had just fed. She wasn’t hungry enough to play the game
this afternoon, having gorged herself on a salesman who liked to eat garlic
fries. His blood was thick with fat globules she could almost see as well as
taste. But it went down smooth.
So maybe she would play along. This
stranger might be a good candidate for a snack tomorrow. She had never fed
twice in one day. She wondered what being too full would feel like in her
current state. It would probably make her horny. Well then, maybe she should
reconsider. She should do a wet feeding. That way she wouldn’t have to be too
careful, could gorge herself on him. He’d be wonderful to look at in the
shower, and his hands might do something unexpected to her. Something memorable
in a string of unmemorable feedings.
His hand gently touched the small of her
back again, and she allowed herself to be ushered to a corner table, flanked by
two purple velvet overstuffed chairs. They sat, facing at right angles to each
other. The counter girl called out Anne’s drink. He was up and walking over to
pick it up for her before she had a chance to react.
She watched him cross the coffeehouse
like a thirsty traveler eyeing a pitcher of water. He was probably six foot
six. His dark hair was pulled back in a short ponytail. His black leather bomber
jacket showed his nice ass and those long lanky legs that went all the way to
Heaven. Even for his size, he appeared graceful. Unassuming. Confident. And the
nicest looking male from behind that she had ever seen.
And then he turned, holding the little white
paper cup with two fingers, the other ones splayed out, large as antlers. She
could see how long his fingers were, how substantial. She envisioned what those
hands could do to her. But as sexy as he was, he also made her mouth water to
feed.
His prominent jaw line sported blue-black
stubble. His strong pulse would be no problem at all, but she would have to
bite a little harder to crack the skin. Maybe he would let her take him slowly.
Then she could kiss other parts of him in between while his heart pumped more
of the blood she craved. His lips were bright red and full. She would enjoy
sucking them, licking them. Perhaps biting them.
His eyes found their way to hers, and
when she met his gaze, she became self-conscious of her thoughts, as if she
knew somehow he could read her mind. Anne told herself it was her craving for
blood that caused the almost sexual attraction for this male. After she fed,
surely she wouldn’t feel this way, she thought.
He delicately deposited the white cup
delicately in her hands. One finger touched and almost seemed to rub against
hers. She thought she was imagining the touch, of course. Between her legs, a
warm pool had formed. It was a curious place to feel hunger, a hunger of
another kind. She blushed at her erotic thoughts.
“You like cappuccino?” He seemed
intrigued by the idea.
“Yes. I need the caffeine in the
afternoon.”
“And here I thought your cheeks were
flushed and ripe from a good meal.” Those black eyes peered right to her soul. Almost
as an afterthought, he smiled, and the dark became brown, ringed with a coppery
color that drew her in.
I’ll
play your game.
“Yes. After a big meal, I get tired
sometimes.”
He nodded. “I remember that.”
Anne looked out the window. This was
beginning to feel dangerous. She grabbed her drink and stood. He stopped her by
placing one hand on her wrist. His action was soft, but deliberate. This male won’t be denied.
“Please, sit just a little longer. Then I’ll
let you go home to your husband.”
“Go? You’ll let me go? What kind of talk
is that? I think . . .” She began to rise again, but his firm grip on her
forearm stopped her.
“Hear me out just a bit.” He did appear
to be begging. Could it be she saw a flash of pain there? No way.
“How do you know I’m married?” she
snapped out, letting her impatience show.
“You wear a wedding ring.” He fingered her
ring slowly, sensually. She let him touch her, perhaps a bit too long. She was
going to correct his misconception but decided to leave him thinking she was
protected by another man. Safer that way.
But was she looking for safe?
There was an obvious physical attraction
between them. She had not felt this before, not since before she was made.
“Do I know you?” she asked, ignoring the
comment about her marriage.
“No. Ask it another way.” The huskiness
of his voice made her ears buzz, like he was brushing his lips across them,
like they were in bed whispering unmentionable things to each other.
“Do you know me?” Her eyebrows rose at
the ridiculous suggestion.
He very lightly nodded. “Oh, yes. I have
waited a long, long time for you.”
128

Heroes of Every Genre: Who’s the Best?

What is your favorite thing about Alpha Heroes? Well, we authors are ready to share our favorite Alpha Males, our favorite things about them, and everything sexy and heated about those Alpha Males you can think of. *wink* Starting on Friday and ending on Oct 22nd, over 200 Authors and Bloggers will share their favorite things about those sexy men we know and love.
And while we do that, we are EACH doing a giveaway. Yep. There will be over 200 giveaways on each blog hosted by that Author or Blogger.
But that's not all….
We have THREE grand prizes. You as a reader can go to EACH blog and comment with your email address and be entered to win. Yep, you can enter over 200 times!
Now what are those prizes?

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet
2nd Grand Prize: A $130 Amazon or B&N Gift Card
3rd Grand Prize: The following Swag Pack!

So, here's my blog and giveaway, and you have until October 22nd to leave your comments. If I had a big Highland Games event and I invited all the heroes of the six books I've written, who would win? Yes, I want you to pick the winner, after I give the evidence. And I'll even make it more fair. You can pick a hero from someone else's blog or book and vote for them here too.

Every comment gets entered into our Grand Prize giveaway, and every commenter will receive something, and YOU EVEN GET TO CHOOSE. Now, when were you ever given the choice of prizes on a blog hop? Be sure you follow the instructions at the end of this post.

We have 6 Alpha Heroes: Daniel DePalma, Joshua Brandon, Marcus Monteleone,  Paolo Monteleone, SOC Kyle Lansdowne and SO Calvin Cooper. You get to vote for one of them (or another hero, if you must), by leaving a comment and telling us all why you think they should win, and what would you do with them to celebrate?

So, since this is election season, here are the descriptions of the candidates, and their Hollywood likenesses:

Daniel DePalma: Brazilian-born painter of colorful wall-sized jungle prints. He does not know his best friend, posing as his agent, is a dark angel who has hooked him up with a very bad girl. The relationship nearly destroys him. Not realizing there are forces of good and evil at play, a guardian angel comes to his rescue. He falls in love with her in spirit, until he falls in love with her in the flesh. He is willing to spend his life separated from his angel lover just to see her safely home.

Joshua Brandon: A colorful dark angel who was looking forward to an eternity of partying with his former best human friend, Daniel, bedding women in the Underworld as well as “on top” in the human world, until the guardian angel intervened. He has a fondness for redheads, especially redheadded guardian angels. He hates birds and detests order and rules. But he soon finds that, among other things, he has grown a conscience and finally meets a soul he cannot claim. He faces the ultimate sacrifice when he is asked to deliver that very woman to the Director of the Underworld to become a concubine. He discovers there are rules worth dying for.

Marcus Monteleone: A 300-year old golden vampire, has spent most of those years searching for his fated female, only to find her dying in his arms. He saves her life by turning her, only to be enjoined by the rules of his breed, to not interfere with her once human life. He does not believe he has fathered a child by a half vampire half witch/villainess, but he feels an obligation to take responsibility for the boy.  In the end, he is willing to spend eternity without her if it means she will be safe from the jealous mother of the boy.

Paulo Monteleone: Brother to Marcus. He loves human women, and, unlike his brothers and sisters, does not take golden vampire mates and chooses to marry outside the fating, resisting a fating that went terribly wrong. He falls in love with a professor of legend and myths, who claims she knows everything about the “non-existant” golden vampires of Tuscany. He finds he is willing to sacrifice his immortal life to rescue his human lover from those that want her silenced.

Kyle Lansdowne: SEAL team leader sent on a mission to find his AWOL swim buddy, who has been kidnapped by a drug gang. The gang's intent is to get weapons and equipment from the SEAL community for their illegal use. By accident, Kyle runs into a newbie Realtor, and he finds in her the woman he has always wanted, just when she is nearly taken from him forever. He is forced to choose between her and his SEAL team buddy's life.

Calvin Cooper: Nebraska farm boy turned U.S. Navy SEAL. A specialist with gadgets, a medic and one of the tallest SEALs to ever graduate BUD/S. He is ordered to meet the family of a fallen SEAL medic, to help him heal the loss of his own family in a tornado. He helps a prominent psychiatrist protect his family, including his lovely daughter, from a psychopathic killer bent on revenge.

Now for your choice:

1. Dog Tag from Accidental SEAL
2. Amazon Kindle version SEAL Encounter.

Be sure to leave your name, AND YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS, and please do so in code like: Jane Doe (at) gmail (dot) com.

Have fun, and good luck!!

Sharon Hamilton
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other.
Accidental SEAL   SEAL Encounter    all available through Amazon

Accidental SEAL Book Trailer

Go to another blog here.

3

H is for Honeymoon

Welcome back to day 8 of the A-Z Blog Challenge. This month I am doing the letters of gratitude.

I read an interesting story yesterday in the local paper. A woman bought an old dresser or trunk, and inside the piece she found some letters written during WWII from a soldier to his new bride. They couldn't wait until they could go on their honeymoon, which was postponed due to the war.

The woman who found the letters located the couple, still living in the area, and returned them. What a miracle it was that they were both still alive and they were able to re-read the letters, and pass them down to their children and grandchildren.

I thought about what a great romance that would make. Sometimes I wish mainstream romances involved older lovers, sometimes. Seems like what sells are books about people falling in love in their 20's and 30's, and believe me, there is nothing wrong with that! Maybe with the Indie opportunities, another kind of love story could be written, and sold. And wouldn't it make a great story about a honeymoon taken maybe 50 or 60 years later? People finding each other after years of marriage and raising children, and perhaps burying their spouses?

The picture above is my honeymoon in 1971. We left for Europe the day after the ceremony, and spent the next 3 months driving all over England, Scotland, Spain, France, parts of Germany, Belgium, Italy, Yugoslavia (called that at the time) and all the little countries in between. We camped the whole way, cooked over a fire pit and met people from all over the world. We had bought our car in the Netherlands, with Dutch license plates, so no one knew we were American until they talked to us.

It was a wonderful trip. Towards the end, in Spain, we were robbed. Don's passport and all our money was stolen. We spent this day in the American Consulate in Barcelona, applying for and receiving a small loan and papers to get his passport re-issued so we could leave the country.

In the lobby was an assortment of people: An American woman who had gotten married to a Spanish man the night before after a raucous party, and now wanted an annulment; a barefooted teen spacing on acid who had lost everything somewhere he couldn't remember and couldn't string two words together in a sentence; a father who had lost his son on a train accident, and was trying to bring his body home since he had been buried as a John Doe.

It was a good look at the life of a consular official in the 1970's, and I can imagine it would be a tough job, dealing with all these problems. But none of this could diminish the glow we felt on our Honeymoon, and the love coursing through our young veins. We were literally drunk on love, and being penniless and without passport made no difference. Even trying to communicate with the police officials to report the theft (and I had to speak French because they didn't understand Don's Spanish), we laughed off as just another experience we'd talk about for years.

Some of these stories would fit into an Elmore Leonard book, and I've often thought he could write about The Honeymoon From Hell type of thing I'd enjoy reading.

Watching people has always been a pastime of mine, starting way back before I was married. It makes me the kind of writer I am today. I love the creating characters, putting them in places they would not normally be in, getting them into jams and getting them lovingly out.

So because today is H and stands for Honeymoon, let me do a little shameless promotion. Here's my blurb for Honeymoon Bite, now available on Nook, Kindle, and Apple:

Anne caught her husband cheating with the maid of Honor before their wedding cake was cut. She decided to take her planned and paid for honeymoon in Tuscany, alone. On the evening of what was to be her wedding night, she gets bitten by a female vampire.

Marcus Monteleone has waited three hundred years to find his fated female, only to discover her dying in his arms. He saves Anne's life by turning her, and then works to gain her trust, to cope with being a newly-formed golden vampire. 

But when Anne finds out Marcus has not been completely truthful about his past, she vows to live as a human, and shuns the vampire world. Alone and unprotected, she falls prey to the very villainess who took her human soul, and who now takes the only man she’s ever loved.

Which lover will have to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the other before they both are lost?

25

Friday the 13th

What do you do on Friday the 13th? Avoid ladders, black cats? Do you curl up with a good vampire book or watch a vintage movie on TV? Do any of you remember Creature Feature?

Vampires have become the new alpha male dangerous super hero, replacing the rebel motorcycle gang types of Marlon Brando fame. Yes, those guys were dangerous, and weren't the ones your mama wanted you to date, but you couldn't help but love them anyway. Because they had a heart underneath that rough exterior.

Same for vampires. Except now with the vampiric characters, they are not only sexy and dangerous, but they hold the power of life after death. Authors have written them dozens of ways, from brooding and melancholy, to overly confident and reckless. We love how they have to be careful of their human mates, when they have them. We enjoy reading how they are tamed by mortals, out of love, honor, obligation to do the right thing. How they fight against their animalistic vampiric abilities to adjust to humans. How they pretend to be human.

What do you love about vampires this Friday the 13th? Do you have a particular one you'd like to cuddle up with? One lucky commenter who joins this site will receive a Kindle or Nook version of my new novel, Honeymoon Bite. Learn about my breed of Golden Vampires of Tuscany. Be sure to leave your email address and ebook preference when you make your comment.

And to complete the blog hop stop for a chance to win a free Kindle, please proceed with caution to:

9

Honeymoon Bite now out!

I released Honeymoon Bite this week. So proud and happy with this new character in a new series for me: Marcus Monteleone, a golden vampire from Tuscany.

Of course, as he always does, Jimmy Thomas is the nicest thing about my cover. As we speak, I'm working on the second book in this series and should have it done early 2012.

So, why not start 2012 out right, and take a bite out of your TBR pile as well as your favorite lover? Pick up a copy of Honeymoon Bite, and enjoy the meal.

Blurb:

Anne caught her husband cheating with her maid of Honor before their wedding cake was cut.  She decided to take her planned and paid for honeymoon in Tuscany, alone. On the evening of what was to be her wedding night, she gets bitten by a female vampire.
Marcus Monteleone has waited three hundred years to find his fated female, only to discover her dying in his arms. He saves Anne’s life by turning her, and then works to gain her trust, to cope with being a newly formed golden vampire.
But when Anne finds out Marcus has not been completely truthful about his past, she vows to live as a human, and shuns the vampire world. Alone and unprotected, she falls prey to the very villainess who took her human soul, and who now takes the only man she’s ever loved.
Which lover will have to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the other before they both are lost? 
2

Vampires!

Don't go away just yet! I promise I won't bore you with vampire lore, if you're not a fan, or have gotten tired of them. I think they will be here to stay. Fact is, we've been writing about them since 300 AD. I understand early Hindu writings incorporated vampire lore. They lived in trees, caused mysterious deaths, especially to unsuspecting children and non-believers. Don't know about you, but that's more chilling to me than the ones that are dark and sexy, that heal quickly, are the strongest things on the planet (just about), and have a libido that most humans would envy.

I laugh whenever I hear the comments, “Vampires are out.” Just like I laugh whenever I hear, “Angels are too controversial.”
I wrote Honeymoon Bite because I had a crit partner who was writing vampires, and I decided to try it. I'd read all of Anne Rice's books, and loved them. Found them very sexy. Except their plumbing didn't work, and I just knew Anne would write some raging love scenes if she hadn't written herself and her characters into a box. Talk about unfulfilled! I learned later on that she wrote erotica under a pen name.
But what she did was bring the dark, brooding vampiric characters to life in memorable ways, and without her, I doubt the Sookies and Bellas would have been created. And now as I read Kressley Cole, Nailini Singh and Larissa Ione, their characters have become a hybrid of several species, even brothers, as in Larissa Ione's Underworld General stories, with different species, depending on their parentage. I like that about paranormal. There are so many things you can do. I have a fallen angel who was a vampire, turned into an angel by accident in the 4th book I'm working on. Why not? It gives us a good basis for why he's got a chip on his shoulder.
I'm itching to get back to the edits on this book so I can send it to my agent. But I have to finish my contemporary first, from a request.
Indulge me. Read my first few paragraphs, and ask yourself if you like this story, would you keep turning the pages, and then go ahead and post your reactions. You're not going to get a nasty comment back, even if it isn't your cup of tea…
Anne looked down on the sleeping form of her new husband and, God help her, he looked like the first man she would murder. Nestled into his arms was the naked body of her Maid of Honor. It was the second time today the bride had caught them. First was at the reception. In the bathroom. Monika’s dress and his tux were splayed over the chair and floor, trampled, along with a spilled bottle of champagne, cream satin shoes, a long taffeta slip, a hot pink pushup bra and Robert’s new black socks. “Not exactly what a bride wants to see on her wedding day.” Anne spoke the chilling words in soft lilting tones, like she had recited her wedding vows that afternoon. It caused the reaction she hoped for. Monika bolted up, her eyes crossed but wide, clutching a sheet to her chest. Robert was scrambling to the floor. “Don’t bother to put your pants on.” “Honey—Anne—,” he said in his I’m-so-sorry-I-got-caught voice. His tanned face used to melt her insides, like when he smiled and the sun came out from behind the clouds. But today it wasn’t going to work. Everyone knew it. The bride had murder on her mind. “I’m so glad you’re all right. We were…” Robert began. “I’m fine. I can see how worried you were. Touching.” Amidst rustling taffeda and satin, Anne reached down to the handle of her wardrobe roller, stuffed to bursting with brand new clothes for her honeymoon, most with tags still on them. She made sure her money, passport and airline tickets were still zipped into the top pocket. “Your dress, Anne,” Her former best friend pointed to the red stains down the front. “Is that blood?” “Catsup.” Anne saw them both flinch. “Not blood. Not yet.” “Now wait just a minute.” Robert climbed back into the bed and put his arms around Monika, but his body was tucked safely behind hers. “I’m sorry about all this, Anne. I’ve been a fool.” Monika turned around and looked at him in a drunken gaze. Maybe she was wising up already. “No. It wasn’t going to work, you asshole. Don’t you think your timing sucked? Couldn’t you have done it before we did all this?” Anne lifted her skirts as if to curtsy. Robert relaxed and hung his head on Monika’s bare shoulder. Anne grabbed a black rain slicker and rolled her trousseau out to the hallway. Whispers came from her bedroom. Unzipping her bag, she extracted the red and black outfit she had planned to wear on the plane—the one with the plunging neckline. Locking herself in the bathroom, she shimmied out of her bridal gown and slipped into her new things. Her feet found a comfortable home in her favorite pair of black crocs, the ones decorated by her bachelorette buddies with little bride and groom charms surrounded by red hearts. No way. She grabbed Robert’s toenail nippers from the vanity and snipped off both the bride and groom, but left the red hearts there. Romance wasn’t dead. But her marriage sure was. Robert stood in the hallway in his shorts. “Where are you going?” “On my honeymoon. I planned it. I paid for it. I’m going.” She descended to the ground floor of her apartment building and realized her wedding gown was still draped over her left arm. A convenient row of black plastic garbage cans, out at the curb for an early morning pickup, became the gown’s final resting place. The nuclear tufts of stained and shredded white organza looked like tissue paper stuffing for a tall wedding present.
My heroine's luck goes from bad to worse, because she does get bitten on her honeymoon. And her life changes forever.Do you like vampires? Do you like humor in those stories? Characters that find themselves in impossible situations? What do you like about vampires? Or dislike?