Saturday, May 26, 2012

Six Sunday: What he had become (Nobody's Perfect)

First, any Americans reading this, please take at least a moment this weekend to remember those brave military men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our nation, and the family members and friends they've left behind. Also hold those who served or are serving close in your hearts because weekends like these bring back the tragic losses their units suffered, and memories of the friends they lost. 
Now, for Six more from my June release Nobody's Perfect, book 4 in the Rescue Me series, featuring my most wounded warrior, Damián Orlando. The Dad he refers to, of course, is Adam Montague, his former master sergeant and the man who has been like a father to Damián since they returned from Iraq.

Sweat rolled between Damián's shoulder blades. He fought to keep his focus on Patti and where the bullwhip would fall on her back and ass, but having Savi across the room distracted him. Damn Dad for ignoring Damian's request and keeping Savi here to witness what he had become.

Focus, man.

Damián stepped out of his stance and reached for a bottle of water. He needed to put Savi out of his mind. 

UNEDITED Excerpt from NOBODY'S  PERFECT © Kallypso Masters, 2012

Thanks for stopping by to read my Six this week. Each week, the new listing of Six Sentence Sunday (SSS) blogs go live at 9 a.m. EDT Sunday. This is a great way to find new authors to follow or read or to get exposure for your own writing! For a list of this week's participants in the SSS blog tour, go to Search #sixsunday on Twitter, as well!

beginning Memorial Day, May 27. 
I'll be her guest there on May 30 with a giveaway.  

And I'll be making a special announcement on 
May 31 at the Books-n-Kisses blog. Don't miss it!
Another chance to win, too!

Three e-books have been published to date in the RESCUE ME series. 
For a list of all of the books and links to purchase sites, 
go to the Books by Kallypso Masters tab in this blog site.  

Sign up for Kally's newsletter at the link (top right of page)
and check out her web site!

Kally loves to find new friends 
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Sunday, May 20, 2012

Six Sunday: So dangerous (Nobody's Perfect)

It seems like forever since I've done the Six Sentence Sunday meme, but I'm baaaaccccckkkkkkkkkk! 

Here are Six more from the first chapter of my upcoming release Nobody's Perfect, due out next month. This book has taken a lot longer to write than the earlier ones due largely to the content matter, but I hope you'll find that it's been worth the wait when it finally does get published! 

"I'm fine."

A flash of anger in his eyes told her he wasn't buying her verbal assurances. Had she done the right thing coming here? Damián wouldn't be as easy to manipulate or divert as most men in Savi's life had been in recent years. In just a few minutes, he'd gotten her to reveal more than she'd intended to tell him—ever.

So dangerous. 

UNEDITED Excerpt from NOBODY'S  PERFECT © Kallypso Masters, 2012

Thanks for stopping by to read my Six this week. Each week, the new listing of Six Sentence Sunday (SSS) blogs go live at 9 a.m. EDT Sunday. This is a great way to find new authors to follow or read or to get exposure for your own writing! For a list of this week's participants in the SSS blog tour, go to Search #sixsunday on Twitter, as well!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Sinful Sirens Giveaway Blog Hop: Nobody's Perfect

I'm still working on Nobody's Perfect and am afraid it won't be published until at least mid June, but here's another UNEDITED excerpt from Chapter One. Not sure I can describe Savi as a sinful siren, poor thing, but she will begin to reconnect with her body once Damian takes her in hand. However, I promise Master Damian is going to heat up your summer--and he's definitely hot as sin! 

After reading my excerpt, look for the link to the Blog Hop and more chances to win prizes at Guilty Pleasures and Under The Covers. Then there are 130 other authors in this blog hop and LOTS more chances to win, too! Read on for a link to the blog hop --and a chance to download a copy of Masters at Arms, the introduction to my series. 

Be sure to comment below for a chance to win a bookmark, Romance Trading Cards, a purple pen, AND an e-book of your choice in the Rescue Me series!

His irritation showed as he leaned toward her and she tried not to let him intimidate her, but he did. “Hey, chica, you just showed up on my doorstep out of nowhere, beaten up and on the run. You’re the one who asked me for help, so don’t go getting all defensive. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.”

He took a longer draw on his beer, draining it, and lowered the empty bottle to his crotch. She averted her attention from that part of his anatomy, reaching up to twirl her hair. A wave of discomfort crashed against her. She hadn't been alone in a room with a man for a very long time.

“I felt safer changing my appearance.”

“Marisol’s father?”

Her hand froze on the curl as her heart thudded against her chest, robbing her of even more oxygen. Did he know? She looked up at him again, studying his face for some time. “What about him?”

“Is he the one who roughed you up and sent you running?”

He didn't know. She relaxed into the sofa and took another swig of the soda, buying time as she tried to will her heartbeat to slow down. “No. He’s been out of my…out of the picture from day one.” She'd tried to find Damián when she'd gotten strong enough to function after Mari's birth, but hadn't been able to find him.

“Let me see where you’re hurt.”

She refused to make eye contact. “No. I’m fine.”

“Bullshit, chica.” When she looked up at him again, he held her gaze. “Your choice—me or my friend? Which will it be?”

Anger ripped through her again. She hadn't come all this way to have him expose her to her father's hound dogs by leaving a paper trail, which is what would happen if he involved medical personnel. She glared at him for a moment, but he refused to back down. Leaning forward, wincing at the shortness of breath before she caught herself again, she laid the soda can on top of a magazine on the coffee table.

She sat back against the sofa. “It’s nothing. Really. Just a bruise.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. I have some…expertise with bruising. Remove your jacket.”

She continued to wage a silent battle of wills with him, but after a few moments decided they needed to get beyond this or she'd never get anywhere with getting him to help them. She raised a shaking hand to loosen the belt of her jacket, then tried to control the shaking in her hands as she reached up to undo the top button.

“I haven’t ever hurt you, Savannah. Have I?”

Savi remembered those first few years when she'd fantasized about Damián coming to rescue her. Fantasies of his being a daddy to Marisol. Before she'd shut down emotionally. Still, she'd wanted him to look for her. He'd broken her heart by not doing so.

Don't be ridiculous, Savi. He wouldn't have come looking for you. He'd have looked for Savannah Gentry. And she was dead.

Choosing not to answer the question, she finished unbuttoning the jacket and peeled it off, then leaned against the back of the sofa and pulled the tail of her shirt loose from her slacks. His gaze went to her abdomen and she saw a flash of rage cross his face as his mouth tightened.

“Lie down.”

His words sounded angry and she felt fear clawing at her throat again. She wouldn't let herself be placed in such a vulnerable position with him. “No.” She took a deep breath and stood up, wincing as the movement robbed her of breath. “I’d rather stand.”

He stood as well and leaned closer to her, reaching out his hand. She gasped even before he touched her. When he gingerly touched the bruised area on her left ribcage, below her breast, she held her breath and tried not to move. After a moment he pulled away.

“I need to ask Doc what to do.”

Didn't doctors have to make reports of violent acts to the authorities? She couldn't risk seeing a doctor. But he didn't wait for her to express an opinion as he pulled out his phone and pressed a button. After a moment, someone must have answered

“Sorry to wake you, man, but I need your help.” He paused and glanced at Savi. “A friend of mine has been in…some kind of fight and she has some bruising over her ribs.” He seemed exasperated by the other person's response and wondered what he'd said “Man, this is serious. It’s not from impact play."

How could violent impacts against someone's body be considered play?

"She’s been punched by a fist, it looks like. Under her breast. Where the ribs are. The bruises are still dark in color. Happened at least two days ago.” He looked to her for confirmation and she nodded and held up two fingers. The man apparently did know his bruising. How did someone who wasn't in the medical field become an expert on bruising?

He listened a moment, then shook his head. “Can’t do that."

Do what?

"What’s plan B? What can I do?” Once more, he listened. Savi could hear a garbled voice coming through the phone, but couldn't make out any of the words. After a long while, he said “Hold on” and lowered the phone to the coffee table. Damián looked at her. “Take some deep breaths. Really fill your lungs.”

Lost in his gaze, she did as he told her, then caught her breath and winced again. She'd forgotten to be careful how she breathed. He picked up the phone again and said, “Might be a problem with her breathing, Doc.”

Refusing to appear injured, Savi stood taller. "No, there isn't. I'm fine"

Damián glared at her until she heard the voice coming through the phone again.

"Shoot." He listened to his friend's instructions. “I didn’t take anatomy, Doc.”

What had he asked? Damián's gaze went to her breasts and she grew uncomfortable. Don't look at me like I'm a dirty slut.

“Be right back.” Damián laid the phone on the coffee table and moved closer to Savi, and she fought the impulse to turn and run. “I need to check for a broken rib. Just try and relax.”

Now she did take a step back. No effing way.

“Hold still, querida.” He maintained eye contact with her, but rather than calm her, she felt the need to escape; to go to her safe place.

Savannah ran along the beach, ignoring the broken shells that cut into the bare soles of her feet. Where were her flip-flops?

The cave. She'd left them at the cave. She needed to get back there. After climbing over the sharp rocks, she walked into the opening of the cave, then halted. Instead of her mother, she found Damián leaning against the wall of the cave. No! Where was maman?

Then she remembered how safe she'd felt with him here once upon a time. A very long time ago.

“Savi? Look at me.”

She blinked and found herself transported instantly back into Damián's living room. She stared at him.

“Where’d you go?”

My cave. Wait! He couldn’t know about that. “Go? I didn’t go anywhere. Just check for the broken rib and get it over with.”

Damián placed his left hand in the middle of her back and she jumped.

“Wait! I’m not ready yet.”

“You don’t have to get ready for anything. Just look at me, querida.”

No! Not yet! She tried to convey her fear with her eyes, but he ignored her.

“Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

She couldn't do this. Her breathing became shallow, rapid. She tried to force herself to release the tension in her shoulders and neck. I can't do this!

“That's it.”

His words had a slight calming effect on her until he placed his right hand against her chest again. Her breathing became shallow and she felt her heart beat wildly. She drew another breath, sharper this time.

“Just relax. I’m going to press here, but tell me if it starts to hurt.”

He applied an incredible amount of pressure against her chest wall and she cried out in pain. Oh dear Lord, it hurt. She'd always been able to block out pain. Why hadn't she been able to go to her cave? He abruptly let go of her and gave her a look as if she'd just landed on earth from outer space. He reached for the cell phone and picked it up.

“Doc? You still there?”

His tone conveyed he wasn't pleased with her. What had she done wrong? She'd tried not to scream in pain.

Only dirty sluts scream, Savannah.

She should have been able to take the pain without screaming. He wouldn't want to help her if she screamed like that again. If he knew what she was…control yourself, Savan…Savi. I'm Savi!

Damián sighed. “We have a couple problems with that. One is that we need a babysitter.”

Now be sure to head over and check out all the great prizes in the Sinful Sirens Giveaway Hop! Good luck!

And now for MY giveaways! First, if you don't have Masters at Arms yet, be sure to use Coupon Code QT34B at Smashwords to get your copy NOW. (Coupon good through May 20. You do not want to read any of the books in this series without this all-important introduction to my first three heroes--Marc, Adam, and Damian.

Comment below about what you're looking forward to reading this summer for a chance to win my bookmark, a set of Romance Trading Cards, a purple pen inscribed with "Ahh, Kallypso...the stories you tell," AND your choice of a FREE e-book in the Rescue Me series.

Good luck and enjoy!

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

TRR Erotic Romance Madness Hop

Welcome, The Romance Reviews blog hoppers, to my little corner of Erotic Romance Madness! I've been asked to tell you about a book I would recommend to someone who is just getting interested in reading erotic romances--and with all the recent media attention to one formerly categorized erotica series, there are a lot of you. 

I write Erotic Romances with BDSM themes and in my Rescue Me series, the stories tend to get a little further along the BDSM spectrum as I go, so for newcomers to the genre, I'd say it might be best to start at the very beginning. To make it even easier for you to do that, I'm giving you a coupon code for a FREE DOWNLOAD of Masters at Arms, the introduction to the series. Use coupon code ME46R at enjoy!

This book tells about how three men from very different origins come together in a firefight in Iraq and later band together to form a family of sorts. Oh, and they decide to start a BDSM/kink club. The three have varying origins in BDSM, as well. 

But this blog hop is supposed to be about erotic romance, and those prequels, while crucial to understanding these three men (and two of them also meet their ladies in that book, as well), I would say the book that would help someone who has never read a BDSM romance would be Nobody's Angel. This is the first actual romance in the series, and tells of Marc D'Alessio (whom you'll meet in Masters at Arms) and his lady love, Angelina Giardano. There are complications with a friend of Marc's, Luke Denton, who thinks Angelina's an "angel" sent to him by his dead wife to help him get back into the game and find happiness again. 

Marc's favorite kinks are bondage, floggings, and spankings. But he also enjoys sensation play and pervertibles (household items intended for other uses that can be perverted to be used in sexual/sensual ways). 

Here's part of a sensation-play session with Angelina and Marc from Nobody's Angel:

Dear God, she'd become a wanton woman.

No, a wanting woman. And what she wanted more than anything in the world, even chocolate, was Marc's touch. Where had he gone anyway? What was he doing? Then she felt him climb back onto the bed and his weight pressed into the mattress near her right leg. She relaxed her contracted muscles and smiled. A short-lived reprieve because, rather than feel his hands or mouth on her body, what felt like cold sharp steel traced lightly over the skin from her left sole, causing her to squirm at the ticklish, yet prickly, feeling. She heard a slight squeak, as if it were a wheel of some type, tracing a path from her ankle to the inside of her knee. Sharp, but not breaking the skin, although it probably could cut her if he exerted enough pressure.

She sucked in a gasp of air and held still, holding her breath, not wanting to be cut by whatever he was using. The pinpricks rolled up the insides of her knees, her thighs. Oh, God, not her pussy! She tried to close her legs against the invasion, but couldn't move them.

Exposed. Vulnerable. Restrained.

She knew she couldn't stand the bite of that thing against her clit. Could she? Then the wheel rolled along the uppermost ridge of her hipbone and onto her abdomen. Her legs reflexively fought the restraints, but she was unable to defend against his ticklish onslaught. She gripped the headboard tighter, trying not to break into screams—or giggles. He rolled the damned thing lower, toward her mons, and she nearly came undone.

Mind over matter. In her mind, she prepared the batter for an Italian cream cake. After adding the first few ingredients, she was able to control her response to the ticklish stimuli.

"Very good, cara."

Warmth spread over her, then the wheel marked new territory again as it traveled upward. The ticklish sensation gave way to a more biting pressure as the wheel rolled around the edge of her right breast where it met her chest wall. Every hair on her body stood on end.

A finger from his other hand brushed the inside of her knee and moved upward, bypassing her pussy, as well. She moaned in frustration. His fingertip skimmed lightly over her hip, across her abdomen, unerringly along the same path the steel object had traced seconds ago, as if following a pattern across her skin. Was the instrument marking a path on her skin in some way?

The pinpricks skittered across the underside of her left breast, then traveled over the space between her girls and onto the top of her right one, circling around the base of the breast and back to the other one. He was making repeated figure eights. Her nipples tightened, aching and waiting.

Please! Touch me there!

Then his fingertip traced the same figure eight around her breasts before replaced by the metal instrument again. This time, it came oh-so-close to pricking the skin of one areola. Thankfully, the area wasn't as sensitive as other parts of her breast. Then the pricking spiraled closer and closer to one sensitive peak and she felt the bud rise up to meet the steel instrument, without even being touched directly. What was that about?

The steel was replaced by his warm mouth as Marc flicked his tongue over first one nipple, then the other. He blew air onto her nipple and it stiffened as the cool air kissed her wet bud. Angelina felt his soft lips almost reverently pull her nipple into his hot mouth again, just before pinpricks of steel rolled over her other nipple, harder.

Angelina's lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, but she was afraid to breathe for fear of being cut. How could he do two things at once? The difference in the sensations between his soft, warm mouth on one nipple and the sharp, cold steel on the other caused her clit to spasm. Her hips strained upward, even though she cringed mentally at the thought of his using that sharp instrument on her clit. She wouldn't be able to stand pain like that.

Would she?

Angelina knew she had her safeword. Of course, she could let go of the bed at any time and remove the object before it reached her clit. She hadn't agreed to cutting and no way could that touch her clit without cutting. But he hadn't broken her skin. Yet. She would wait and see what happened next before bailing out.

A niggling doubt plagued her. If she used her safeword, would he honor it? Should she test him? No. He said he'd end the scene immediately and, at the moment, the delicious sensations rampaging through her body made it clear she had no desire to end this anytime soon.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the sharp instrument rolled over her nipple again. Surprised, she gasped, and her chest arched upward suddenly—toward the pain, rather than away—causing the sharp object to press deeply into her sensitive peak.

"Ow!" She cried out against the unexpected pain, then the torture device was gone, replaced with Marc's gentle hand on her breast and his warm tongue laving and flicking at her aching nipple until the pain receded.



She moaned and his mouth left her.

"I'm sorry, gattina. That was not intentional."

She whimpered; her self-control gone. How did he turn pain into pleasure so quickly? His words registered that the pain had been accidental. He'd even apologized for the relatively tiny hurt. Allen had inflicted so much more pain and told her it had just been a misunderstanding on her part.

"Stay with me, pet."

His mouth sucked her tender nipple, but her pussy clenched in response, aching to be filled. She couldn't speak her wishes, but moaned as she tilted her pelvis upward, hoping he would take the hint. He released her nipple and cold air caused her well-loved peak to swell even further.

For a moment, he didn't touch her anywhere. She waited. What next? Her body missed the sensations of his hand, mouth, and even that painful metal device.

At last, he was touching her pussy, spreading her folds open, and exposing her erect clit to the cool air. Yes, touch me there! His finger stroked directly against the sensitive nubbin, spreading something cold on her. He took his hand away. That was all? Why didn't he stroke her more? Help her to come? She knew she could reach an orgasm now and wanted more, damn it.

Suddenly, a strange warmth spread through her clit. It grew warmer and warmer, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. What had he just put on her clit? The sensation made her want to beg him to touch her again. Oh, God! She was on fire!

Then cold! What felt like wet ice brushed over her mouth, sending a trickle of water down her cheek and around her ear. Yes, definitely ice. And she smelled mint, which didn't make sense. Marc pressed the melting cube over her chin, gliding it slowly down her throat leaving a trail of cold as the runoff trailed to the back of her neck. He moved the cube at a glacier's pace. Would he ever reach his destination, wherever that was? Then the ice came to rest at the base of her neck, above her collarbone, where he left it to lie and melt, trickling cold water around her neck and to her back.

Her clit was on fire. Her upper body was freezing. The mixed signals short-circuited her brain. She shivered, but whether from the cold or her burning clit, she didn't know.

His warm lips brushed over her cold ones causing hers to tingle and warm quickly, then he trailed kisses over her chin, down her throat, stopping to press a kiss against her pulse, and continuing on until he came to the pool of melted ice at the base of her throat. His tongue lapped at the water in the hollow and then the ice was gone.

His lips, colder now as they moved down her body, avoiding her breasts, which confused her. As he reached her abdomen, his legs straddled her again. She could tell he hadn't removed his pants yet. Then all thought fled as his unusually cold lips brushed over her mons, closer and closer to her fiery clit.

No! Just as the thought occurred to her that fire and ice don't mix, his frigid tongue licked the hood above her clit.

Her hips bucked up on the mattress, then she tried to get away from his mouth, but movement was impossible. "Ohhh! Ohh, God, no!!!" No escape. The disparate temperatures, the sensations, the restraint were all too much, nearly sending her mind over the edge.

She realized she'd spoken, well, screamed was more accuate. But he hadn't reprimanded her. She wouldn't have been able to restrain herself if she'd tried, though. Maybe he made allowances for cries of passion.

Avoiding the most sensitive part of her clit, his tongue slid down to her pussy and he pressed it inside her warm vagina, leaving his tongue there without moving. As the coldness of his tongue disappeared, he moved his tongue, flicking on a path back toward her clit. This time, when he laved the area around the hood, his tongue was warmer, but still cooler than her clit because of whatever he had put on her to make it burn.

Unable to remain still, she pressed her pussy toward his tongue. More. Oh, God, she needed more. He gently nipped her clit. "Ahhh!" The pit of her stomach tensed as the sensation coursed through her, sending ever closer to the elusive edge again. How much more could she take before he brought her the release she needed?

Please, Marc! I need you!

When she thought she could almost come without further stimulation, his mouth was gone and his weight shifted. She groaned as if in pain, then tensed, waiting to see what Marc would do next. She didn't have to wait long. His finger rubbed something cold onto her clit again. Seconds later, it began to warm. Only this time, he removed his finger, then returned to spread even more of the first-cold-then-hot substance between the outer lips and moving toward the opening of her pussy. Oh, no! Surely he wouldn't put that on her va…

The smell of mint reached her sensitive nose. What on earth was he using? She remembered he'd gone into the front part of the house, but there wasn't anything with mint there. The bathroom. Toothpaste? Who would think of putting toothpaste there?!?

Marc, apparently.

Slowly, heat spread like wildfire from her clit to her vagina. No longer capable of coherent thought, her head thrashed against the pillow. She was out of her mind with want. Why didn't he at least put his finger inside her? But she knew she wanted more than a finger. She wanted him. Inside her. Now!

"Please don't make me wait any longer, Marc! I want you inside me."

Angelina froze. Oh, God. Had she spoken aloud? What would he do now? Tears of frustration filled her eyes. She wished she could see him. Judge his reaction.

Marc left the bed. "Pet, not only did you disobey by speaking, but you also neglected to respect me by calling me Sir. I will give you two choices for your punishment."

Her heart pounded against her chest as she waited for him to tell her what those choices were. What could he possibly do to her that wouldn't involve pain? But he'd promised not to hurt her. If she obeyed him. She hadn't. As she waited, her mind tried to imagine other punishments. Did Doms use timeouts like she'd had in kindergarten? Spankings, certainly.

Whatever he had put on her clit, continued to burn, making her want Marc's touch more than she'd ever wanted anything. Her hips bucked upward as if with a will of their own. How much longer would he make her wait?

"Your first choice is for me to stop now, untie your legs, and let you go to sleep while I go back to sleep on the sofa."

More tears sprang to her eyes. How could he leave her wanting like this? Didn't good Doms always make sure their subs' needs were met? Well, she needed to come, damn it!

"Your second choice will give you the mind-blowing orgasm you crave—"

Yes, that one!

"—but you must submit to an over-the-knee spanking. Bare ass. Five swats."

Oh, God! No way!

That was such a fun scene to write--and a there was much more in that very long scene. I don't believe in wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am sex in real life or in my novels!

Now, for a chance to win this book (or another in my Rescue Me series--published or yet-to-be-published), as well as some of my swag (Romance Trading Cards, bookmark, and a purple pen), please:

1) Comment below and tell me what is
your favorite erotic romance novel
2) Follow this blog (or sign up for my newsletter)

Then be sure to click on the button below to be taken to the next blog to visit or the hop. If you haven't registered and/or logged in, please click on the button as well to be taken to the page to do that. (The TRR blog-hop linky will remember where you've been and randomly choose another blog, so no need to keep track!) There will be some great prizes given away during the blog hop for anyone who comments at any of the 

The Romance Reviews Erotic Romance Madness Hop