Tessa's Temptations

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 hor...

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 CR...

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 ...

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 f...

It is a curious phenomenon that a sometimes jaded woman (yours truly), who relishes the grittiest HBO crime shows, would shed a tear each and every time she watches Disney’s Cinderella, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. I appreciate any live-action spin-off, no matter how cheesy, but something about those animated images get me. Every time. Now how can that be? I am a slick modern being, well-versed in the new tech world of CGI and flashy effects. Still, those iconic frames I remember from my childhood resonate—especially the kiss in Sleeping Beauty. Prince Phillip was always my favorite Disney crush. He had a badass black horse and a red cape. He took charge. The prince in Cinderella had some good moves but he was too much of a pretty boy. Those epaulettes gave me the creeps. Leave Sargent Pepper to Sargent Pepper. I digress. I am supposed to be addressing the ambiguity of my psyche. There is no great mystery here. Why is it that I can watch violence on TV while maintaining my...

It seems only fitting that in honor of Mother’s Day I tease my own mother without mercy. Here goes. I find it quite hilarious that my 74-year-old mom has “first crack” at my manuscripts. I call them “manuscripts” and they are, but come on, seriously, they are steamy romance novels and sometimes that steam turns into straight up smut. The idea of the most dignified lady I know burning her tender eyes out on phrases like “throbbing need” and “pulsating male hunger” not to mention “dampening cleft” or “slippery bud of desire” sends me straight into a fit of spasmodic giggles. Especially when she uses her schoolmarm Eraser Mate pen on said salacious phrases. My mother is a lady from another time. She was born in 1812. I’ve never even seen her legs. She is prim and strict, always buttoned up. She is continually scandalized by my brashness, my rude and raucous humor, my bright red lipstick (I could go on and on) and wonders how she ever sprouted such a rotten seed. When she edits my ...

My best friend James, who happens to be a straight male, called me yesterday and said “I bought you a vibrator.” I supplied him with a very long pause and then responded, “You mean like a special massager for my wrists?” (I’m still battling the RSS). “No, it’s a vibrator,” James continued very seriously. “Like a lady’s vibrator for your lady’s parts.” WTF? Yes, my straight male friend bought me a masturbating device for my lady’s parts. No, people, this isn’t the start of my new romantic comedy. This is my life. James went on to explain that he’d just had an appointment with a specialist for his own RSS and she prescribed the use of a vibrator to massage the stressed tendons in his hands and wrists. Yes, a vibrator—a small one, the type that could be carried in a purse, the very same kind that could be used to stimulate one’s clitoris. Or I suppose one’s achy wrists. Huh? The idea of my dear friend James purchasing this device from the drugstore was enough to sen...