Next up! Desiree Holt. Thank you Desiree for visiting today.
Here is Desiree's answer to why she writes military romance.
I have always been fascinated with the military, with both its glamour and its discipline, with the dedication of the men and women who wear the uniform. I grew up in a small town in Maine that housed a strategic Air Command base on the outskirts, so it was part of my life for many years. My husband was a Marine, then joined the naval reserve, ended up serving two years in the Navy during the Korean War. I have two firearms instructors. One is former Delta Force, the other former Force Recon Marine. So there is almost no part of my life that hasn’t been touched by the military.
But even more than that, there is a thread of patriotism that runs really deep in my heart and I have the utmost admiration for the men and women who risk their lives to keep us free. Who protect us on a daily basis and who represent this country with dignity and grace. Sometimes under the most atrocious conditions you can imagine.
I have read Lone Survivor by SEAL Marcus Luttrell and American Sniper, the celebration of the life of fallen hero Chris Kyle. I cannot tell you how impressed I am by the bravery of the men in these books and their dedication to duty.
So when I think of heroes, of alpha males who also have respect for others, of romantic icons, I often look to the military. I want to share my feelings with others and bring them stories that will help them embrace the lives of these great men and women
Blurb:
For Faith and Mark, the telepathic connection they’d shared for years was nothing compared to the scorching physical connection they realized as adults. From the first moment they came together, erotic was too pale a word to describe their relationship. Together they explored each other’s deepest, darkest desires.
But now Mark, survivor of an ambush to his Delta Force team, is a prisoner of a terrorist group in the Peruvian jungle, and his telepathic communication with Faith is his only contact with the world. While she searches for help to save him, they survive on dreams that took them beyond all sexual boundaries.
Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title ALWAYS ON MY MIND and has been revised for Ellora’s Cave.
Excerpt:
The sun was a globe of
fire creeping up in the sky, turning everything below it into an oven. It was
barely nine o’clock in the morning yet Mark Halloran was sure the temperature
was already close to triple digits. The humidity was as thick as a rainfall.
The roar and grunt of the howler monkeys was already splitting the air as they
leaped from tree to tree feasting on the canopy leaves.
How the hell did people live in
places like this?
Or work in them.
And this appeared to be a
permanent camp, with tents, lean-tos and crude buildings. It also boasted a
campfire pit and other amenities they wouldn’t have taken the time for in a
transitory situation, unlike the temporary setup where the meeting had taken
place. Where they’d been told the Wolf was going to meet with Escobedo’s group.
A friend of a former Special Ops soldier Rick Latrobe’s, deep undercover with
Escobedo’s group, had risked his life to get the message out that the Wolf was
going to make a personal appearance. Unusual for him but this shipment was so
large and involved so much money, Escobedo insisted.
Not at his camp, however. Not
even the Wolf would be privy to its location. A meeting place not far away was
set up. For the Wolf it would be in and out. Just like that. He would arrive
with the shipment, Escobedo would bring the money. As soon as both parties were
satisfied with the goods, the transaction would take place and that would be
that.
Mark had gone to his
commanding office, Major John Gregorio, with the information. The major had
passed it up the chain and the word had come down to act. The United States
government had waited a very long time for a chance at the Wolf. To make it a
two-fer upped the ante.
A simple mission. Get in. Take
out the bad guys. Get out. One less group of Al Qaeda plotters to worry about.
And the arms dealer meeting with them. That was the key. That’s what he and his
men had been told. It was a chance to clean out a viper’s nest and take out a key
arms player at the same time.
With the weakening of the Tupac
Amaru terrorist group and the decline of Shining Path, Al Qaeda had been
recruiting heavily and spending big money to rebuild Peru’s terrorist
structure. Another foothold in South America for the promised Islamic world.
But someone had leaked the
mission, Escobedo’s group was waiting for them and now most of his men were
dead. After burning the bodies of Mark’s men they’d cleaned up every trace of
what had taken place and moved, all of them including the Wolf, what Mark
reckoned was about ten miles away.
He grunted, trying to shift to
a more comfortable position. The tent gave him little protection him from the
ruthless sun and having his ankle chained to a stake barely two feet away
severely restricted his movements. For maybe the thousandth time he wondered
what had gone wrong and landed him in this abominable mess.
God, what a mess it had
been. One minute they were finding their positions to take their shots, carefully
hidden, the target painted. The next they were the targets instead. The noise
of the AK47s still echoed in his ears, along with the stench of the blood of
his dying men. They’d even gotten the comm guy they’d left at the insertion and
extraction point with their gear.
He’d forced himself to look
when they dragged the bodies into the center of the camp, piled them together
and set them on fire. They stood watching with arrogant, evil grins on their
faces, then opened bottles of whiskey to celebrate. Mark was sure it was a
sight he’d never forget.
He knew what they wanted—the
name of the man who had betrayed them. They could kill him and very well might
but the source had to be protected at all costs.
Yet as much as they
tortured him, for sport and pleasure as well as information, there were things
he hung onto that kept his sanity intact. For one thing, despite his wounds he
kept himself alert and counted the bodies. One was missing, Joey Latrobe. The
kid. The sniper. Rick’s brother, who’d brought them the information. Mark was
convinced he wasn’t dead or they’d have found him. No, badly wounded or not,
he’d found a way to hide from them. Now if Mark could only be sure he got away.
Of course he had no idea what shape
Joey was in, or even if he could give his rescuers, if there were any,
information about the camp.
But what gave him real strength was
his connection to Faith. God. Beautiful Faith. The woman of his dreams. How
stupid was he to walk away from what they could have to play soldier? No, not
that. To defend his country. His sense of honor and patriotism was stronger
than almost anything. But now, if he died here in this godforsaken hellhole,
the only memory he’d have would be that long weekend they’d shared before he
was deployed the first time.
And the erotic dreams that came to
wipe away the pain.
When he closed his eyes
she was in his arms again, her lush body naked against his, her breasts
pressing against his chest. His hands coasted over her satiny skin, fingertips
exploring every dip and hollow.
“It’s a good thing you aren’t around
when I’m planning a mission,” he murmured, his lips against her throat. “I just
look at you and my cock gets so big I’m afraid my pants won’t contain it.”
Her laugh was throaty and musical, and
her fingers drifted down to close around his thick erection. “Good. That’s the
way I like it.”
She moved her hand in a slow pumping
motion and he groaned at the heat that rushed through him. Lowering his head he
closed his lips over one taut nipple, pulling it into his mouth. It hardened
even more at his touch and when he dragged his teeth over it lightly her grip
on his cock tightened.
“Easy.” He released the nipple and lapped
around the edge of it. “We don’t want the dance to end when the music has just
begun.”
“Ah, but we can always dance again,”
she reminded him.
He tasted the skin in the valley
between her breasts, doing his best to take control of the situation even as
her fingers continued to stroke the hard, thick length of his cock. Light
movements that teased him and heated his blood.
But then just being near
her did that.
Buy Links:
Known the
world over as The Oldest Living Erotica Author, Desiree Holt proves every day
that she is more than the sum of her years and more than the grandmother who
plays with Barbie and Ken dolls: She is The Hardest Working Erotica Author,
producing one novel or more each month—and sending her readers and reviewers
into rhapsodies about her five star storytelling.
How did she
become so prolific? She counts innumerable rich experiences in her long life,
including years in the music business representing every kind of artist from
country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her
own public relations agency handling any client who interested her. Many did.
Many became genuine characters whom she refashioned as heroes and heroines to
live within the pages of her novels.
Her
imagination does her proud. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a
nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5
Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a
CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of the Holt Medallion,
multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award and is published by
five different houses. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The
Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA
Today and numerous other national publications.
“Desiree Holt
is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more
fulfilling then the last.” (Romance
Junkies)
Learn more
about her and read her novels here:
www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor
Twitter
@desireeholt
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desiree02holt
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LinkedIn and Google+
Giveaway Information:
Desiree is giving away a beautiful charm bracelet to one lucky commenter. Just fill out the rafflecopter and comment below and tell me...What is your favorite thing about military romance?
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Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received
the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance.
Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings,
but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned in her
straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio
with two cats and her husband, who both inspires her fantasies and supports her
career. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world,
avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, and, of course, read.
