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When a 42-year-old wears a bikini.

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At what point does a lady of riper years have to stop wearing a two-piece? A high ponytail? A mini skirt? A smoky eye? These are all questions that pop up when you are a woman my age. In your 20’s you are heedless, reckless in your youth. By 30, you’ve matured a little and have perhaps strived to adopt a classier look—you’ve also invested heavily in sunscreen. By 40, you still have it—if you’re lucky— but have begun to detect your glow slippage, cracks in the surface etc. Some women panic. I have chosen not to. However, it has occurred to me that maybe it’s time to ditch the two-piece. Should I invest in some totally blah racer-back unitard? Perhaps a 1920’s bathing costume— a garbage bag? Nahhhhhhhhh. I’m going to carry on with the boobs and butt front and center program. You know why? Because it’s more fun. Besides, I have recently discovered everyone at the gym is just looking at their cell phones anyway. They wouldn’t notice if I swam nude in tube socks while wea
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Even ice queens like to snuggle.

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When an ice queen's frosty innards melt into a puddle exciting things can happen. Like...well...snuggling for one.  Only a handsome strong cowboy could cause such a liquid state and let me tell you snuggling wasn't all these two were up to, but you'll just have to content yourself with a little post coital excerpt from my new novel  The Demon Duchess Enjoy! It had sure been a doozy of an evening. The woman lying across him had displayed everything from murderous rage to wanton passion. He idly stroked her back as she slept. Who knew ice queens liked to snuggle. She seemed so trusting and soft right now. Had she snuggled with her precious Trevor like this? A sharp jealousy clenched at his chest. He pushed the unpleasant thoughts from his brain and concentrated instead on her feminine scent. I’ll slip off nestled in a field of fancy flowers… He roused just after dawn with a mouthful of fragrant hair and a silky ass pressed into his erection. He stifled a groan a
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It’s a little hard to get off with a chick who’s wearing a librarian bun.

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I beg to differ. I mean look at Margot Robbie. That is one hot librarian bun. I have illustrated just how sexy a bun can be in the prologue of my new novel The Demon Duchess (out now, excerpt below). The chignon (fancy name for bun) has always been one of my favorite hairstyles. I’m such a fan of the elegant coif that I have built an entire character around it. And I love her almost as much as I love her perfect low-riding knot. Ah, to wear a chignon—to have hair so silky and pale that it shines like platinum—to be an ice queen like my beloved Baroness, with slender proportions and a cool wit. And oh, her fascinating coil. My heroine may have a fascinating coil, but she is also a giant pain in the ass. No one knows this more than her horse trainer, Jack Johnson, who is trying to make love to her. If I had a man like Jack Johnson in my bed, I wouldn’t be so difficult, but then again I’m no baroness. Even though he had just agreed not to touch her, his hand went to her hair
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What happens when an English ice queen gets dumped?

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She upgrades and eventually lives happily ever after.  That is, after she has her frosty organ melted by a plain-spoken cowboy. The ice queen in question is the Baroness we first meet in The Devil Duke and the star of my new book The Demon Duchess (just released). She is not only an ice queen but a villainess, displaying a deceitful nature when her love life is threatened by scrappy waif, Isabel De Luca. The Demon Duchess , (book 2 in the series) is the tale of Abigail Sutton’s redemption and ultimate transformation. I relished the challenge of making such a treacherous she-snake likable enough to be the heroine in one of my stories. Truthfully, she’s not all bad, and after all—all is fair in love and war, right? I hope you end up forgiving the Baroness for her past transgressions. She turned out to be one of the most enjoyable female characters I’ve ever written. She just needed the love of a good man to bring her around. Enter our hero, Jack Johnson, the handsome horse t
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Location: Napa, CA, USA
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I always enjoy a villainess, especially when she’s not all bad.

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The Baroness stood next to the Duke. The firelight showed through her elegant pale gown, highlighting each curve and swell… Why not make the heroine’s arch rival in The Devil Duke star in the sequel, The Demon Duchess (soon to be released). I always enjoy a villainess, especially when she’s not all bad. Perfect example: the Baroness in The Sound of Music —my inspiration for Abigail Sutton, Trevor Barrington’s longtime mistress who is about to have her world shattered by her beau’s rowdy young house guest, Izzy De Luca. She doesn’t plan on conceding to the scrappy competition without a fight, however. “The American has put Daddy in a foul mood again. He shouts at her a lot and when he is not shouting he stares. Funny that he should always watch her. You are so much prettier.” “Yes, we will have to remind him of that. Let’s go find him, shall we?”             ARMS CROSSED, THE DUKE GLOWERED in the shadow of a giant oak
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When a virgin stars in your sex scene...

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How do you handle a love scene when your heroine is a virgin? After all a woman’s chastity is a sacred thing and a girl’s first time is supposed to be special. It isn’t always, of course, but you can sure as hell bet it will be in a romance novel. The hero will take extra care with the de-flowering process. That is, unless the virgin in question is the sexual aggressor. Sharing an excerpt from my novel, The Devil Duke . Its sequel is soon to be released, The Demon Duchess...check it out! EXCERPT FROM THE DEVIL DUKE: He stalked toward her, wagging a finger. “You tricked me, you devious minx. You snuck into my room and crawled into my bed and you’re a bloody virgin.” She had the audacity to laugh in his face. “God, get over it.” The Duke completely lost his cool. The veins in his neck stood out as he raised his voice. “Do you have any idea what you are doing to me! You will drive me insane!” “I don’t want to be a virgin anymore, okay!” she shouted back at him. His
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My movie star crushes star in my romance novels, and why not?

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After all, we fantasize about them, idolize them and “follow” them. (I’m only referring to internet stalking, of course). We would still have posters of them shellacking our bedroom walls if dignity didn’t demand otherwise. I mean, what would the house guests say? Screw dignity and the houseguests.  Some of us, (at present), have slipped a glossy picture here or pinned a torn-magazine photo there. Our favorite fantasy guy may be a model, movie star, rock star or sports star. My 50 plus friend has a life-size cardboard cutout of ultimate bad boy Jax Teller from Sons of Anarchy . He started out in the bedroom, where he belongs. Sadly, her husband made her put him in the garage. These pinups keep our blood hot in our veins and make us remember how fun it was to be a silly girl. I for one have my fridge plastered with portraits of Spanish tennis megastar and real-life gladiator, Rafael Nadal. Did I mention he’s wearing only his undies in these shots? His chiseled, sunbaked form
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