1 blog + 31 authors = 31 Days Of Hotness
Eva Lefoy is one exciting writer to look out for and she writes in so many genres! Contemp romance, sci-fi and F/F. I’m thrilled to intoduce her to July Fever 🙂
She’s giving away a copy of Sweet Cravings to one lucky winner. To enter the draw, simply leave a comment and your email address.
Things to do when the temperature rises …
It’s July. It’s hot. Traditionally temps here are between 84 and 90 with some swings up to 100; the kids are out of school, and everybody’s walking around as close to buck naked as they can get without breaking the law. It’s great breeding grounds for hawtness.
*Looks around* who said that? Me? Heh. Yeah. I might have a trick up my sleeve or two.
When everybody else wants to stay under the air conditioner and drink cool beverages, I say it’s time to let the heat be your sexy friend. Lay in a pool of sunlight naked until you sweat. Prance around the house in your undies. Buy whipped cream and think about where to slather it – and then lick it off…
You can totally tell whipped cream is a recurring theme in my work, or at least in my brain, right? In my novella Sweet Cravings, published by Decadent Publishing, the heroine Violet does slather whipped cream on the sexy new French-trained pastry chef, Max. Only it’s not during the middle of summer, and they’re standing in a kitchen.
Which, coincidentally is also a *hot* place to be.
See how this works? (Wink wink).
Now go to your freezer, take out something cold and have some fun.
Here’s the blurb for Sweet Cravings:
Riding the waves of a sugar high, Violet Cunningham seduces the town’s newest pastry chef, slathering him with whipped cream in his secret kitchen. But all that is made of sugar melts, and her brazenness vanishes along with it, leaving her alone once again with her insecurities. Deciding to avoid temptation, she’s mortified when her boss sends her back to sexy chef Max’s kitchen to ask him to cater a company dinner.
After he turns the tables and seduces her, Max disappears the next morning. Violet blames herself but is it true or her old fears talking? When stray pastries show up at work, there’s only one man that could be responsible… and this time she refuses be distracted by creamy temptation. Well… maybe just a little…
And a whipped cream excerpt:
His mouth formed a soft smile as he unlocked the bowl from the commercial-grade machine and held it up for my inspection. It was full of gorgeous, buttery-smooth, almond-scented whipped-cream filling.
I gasped as warm rushes of sugar-power surged through my veins once more and nestled in my nether regions. Bam! I was back in business. With my mouth watering, I hurried forward and dragged my finger through the fluffy goodness. Mmmmm. What texture. So soft yet firm. So smooth and creamy. I brought a big, thick glob of creamy whiteness toward my mouth. With sheer heaven inches from my taste buds, I paused to glance up at his eyes. They glowed with acceptance and approval, and I realized he had done this on purpose—given me my confidence back. The laugh crinkles around his eyes lent a generous warmth to his face, and my heart squealed its tires in amazement. All the sudden, it wasn’t sweets I wanted, but to dive into those deep brown eyes and find a different kind of satisfaction, one I hadn’t experienced in a long time. And never with such a dreamy-hot chef.
Who was about to get stripped naked.
I licked the filling off my finger damn fast and reached toward his shirt buttons. He sucked in a sharp inhale and dug his fingers into my hips as I pulled him toward me. Excitement jolted through me at having him so close. I liked the fact my boldness surprised him. Liked even more that he did nothing to stop me. Just watched wearing an ever-increasing smile as, one after the other, the buttons were undone. I flung the material back to expose a magnificent, well-built chest with two half-erect, succulent, raspberry-tinted nipples. My tongue longed to lavish each one with personal attention.
But first, I spread the whipped cream over his darkly haired broad chest, creating a lip-smacking landscape as beautiful to me as a French Impressionist painting. He laughed. I stood back to admire my work and then leaned forward to taste my masterpiece. Mmmmmm. My mouth exploded with happiness at the intersection of male skin and flawless, honeyed flavor. I licked, moaned, and licked some more. He tugged my hips to his, leaving no space between our bodies. His cock ground against me, and I bit his chest, nipping with hungry intensity. Losing myself in the moment, my teeth scraped over a nipple and I savored his groan like a fine wine.
He cupped my ass cheeks, caressing my backside before his hands dove under my panties, fingers searching for a wet spot. He quickly found it, swirling a finger over my damp entrance, and I whimpered with heady desire. I traced my tongue across his chest to his left nipple and was just about to lick when he stopped me in my tracks. “Wait,” he said, and placed a finger under my chin, tilting my tongue away from paradise.
“Your dress is getting ruined.” Gawd, even his smirk was sexy.
Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Eva-Lefoy/e/B00CE0EY0G
Remember, commenting will also put you into the Weekly Prize Draw for all these gifts:
Please join me tomorrow, when I welcome Trish McCallan to July Fever