I'm delighted to welcome Desiree Holt to Golinowski's Gambol. To quote from her website:
Romance Junkies said of her work: "Desiree Holt is the most
amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the
last.
She's got some great news and a contest. So, without further ado, heeeere's Desiree!
June 23 CBS is rerunning my segment
on CBS Sunday Morning. Watch Bill Geist roll his eyeballs when I read
to him from Rodeo Heat.
And speaking of Rodeo Heat, I’m
running a contest to go along with this. Read the book, post a review, send me
the link at desireeholt@desireeholt.com. You’ll be entered in a drawing for a $50 GC, Amazon or B&N. Each review counts as one entry.
Sounds like fun, right! Be sure to check your local listings and then tune in this coming Sunday to watch the fun!
For the curious, here is
the book blurb for Rodeo Heat.
Maybe it's the animalistic heat of the rodeo-or
the pin with special powers that the old woman all but forces her to buy...
Whatever it is, within seconds of meeting rodeo rider Ben Lovell, Grace Delany's safe world crumbles in a voluptuous
explosion of lust. Every night is something new. From the handcuffs to the
intriguing sex toys, Grace gives in to it all, relishing her body's responses to this younger man. As Ben
leads her from one earth-shattering climax to another, as her body softens and
opens to him, all she can do is hang on for dear life and follow his lead. But
when the rodeo is over, it may prove impossible to walk away from the man who's
taken her on an outrageous journey of self-discovery...a man with no sexual
limits or boundaries.
Intrigued? They say accessories make the outfit. Well, sounds like that pin and that Man are going to make Grace's life a lot more interesting.
Desiree also brought along a tasty little
excerpt.
A warm hand closed over her
elbow sending tingles of sensation rippling along her flesh. “Why don’t I buy
you a cup of coffee while Melanie and Ross do their thing?”
“Oh, that sounds terrific, if
you’re sure you don’t mind.” Melanie’s enthusiasm was hard to miss. It wasn’t
just a chance for Grace to meet someone. Melanie wanted to play games with Ross
and set herself up for later. She dug into her purse and extracted a piece of
pasteboard from her wallet, holding it out to Grace. “Here’s your ticket. We’ll
catch up in the arena.”
Ben palmed the ticket before
she could grab it. “Great idea.
“But—” Grace had a feeling
things were spinning out of her control.
“And Ben?” Melanie gave him a hard look. “You be real nice to my friend. You hear me? I know you’ve got manners hidden in there somewhere.”
Grace chewed her bottom lip
trying to think of a way out of this that wouldn’t be too awkward, even while
her secret inner self was yelling, Go with him, stupid.
“That’s okay.” She would have
backed away if the aisle between the tables wasn’t so jammed. “Just give me the
ticket. I can keep myself busy.”
But Ben Lowell was already steering her away and suddenly she found herself moving along with him as if were the most natural thing in the world. They found a picnic table in a far corner of the room that was surprisingly nearly empty and he settled her on the bench.
“I know I said coffee,” he
told her, “but the stuff they serve here isn’t much good except as a varnish
remover. How about a cold drink? Or a beer?”
Grace wet her lips nervously.
“A cold drink would be fine. Anything. I’m not choosy.”
She watched him walk up to one of the food counters with a loose, swivel-hipped walk she’d seen on cowboys on television and in the movies. Unconsciously she rubbed the pin which seemed to heat her skin right through her shirt, wondering if the woman had been right and it was directing the course of her life. Melanie had hit the nail on the head about one thing. That course definitely needed changing.
“Here you go.” Ben set two tall
cups of soda on the table, then sat down across from her.
“Thank you.” She forced
herself to look up at him. “We haven’t actually been introduced.” She held out
her hand. “I’m Grace Delaney.”
He took her small hand in his larger one and the touch of his flesh against hers sent the lust spiking higher. Good god. It had to be the damn pin. Maybe she should take it off before she did something embarrassing. Like throw herself at this man.
No, not me. Pin or not, that
takes more courage than I have at the moment.
“Hello, Grace Delaney. I’m Ben
Lowell.”
“I got that much.” He was
still holding her hand and strangely, she had no desire to pull it away.
“I guess I just sort of took
things for granted back there,” he told her somewhat apologetically, “but it
looked like you weren’t too anxious to hang around Melanie and Ross.”
“She’s an old friend,” she
told him, wondering how well Ben knew her.
He looked at her over the rim
of his cup. “I hope you don’t mind my saying this and no offense intended but
you and Melanie don‘t exactly seem like you’d have a lot in common.”
“You’re right but we’ve known each other most of our lives.” She saw the tightening of his lips. “Believe me, I know exactly who and what she is but it doesn’t matter. She’s always been there when I needed her. That’s what counts.”
He glanced across the room at
the woman in question. “I guess sometimes strange friendships are the best
ones.”
Now that she was actually
looking at her dream man in the flesh, Grace felt a bad case of nerves clutch
at her along with the most consuming flash of lust she could ever remember
having. She took a sip of her drink to steady herself.
“So. Are you competing in the
rodeo?”
His mouth thinned for a
moment, then he nodded briefly. “You’d think I’d have enough sense at my age to
keep from getting knocked around anymore.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be polite
to ask how old you are.” Shivers rocketed through her as his thumb caressed her
knuckles.
“Thirty-two going on fifty.”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Pretty young,” she teased,
then wondered why she’d said such a stupid thing.
“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted. “I
sure don’t feel that young. Would it be too rude if I asked how old you
are?”
She tried to pull her hand back but he held onto it firmly.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Tit for tat.”
Squirming on the bench she
said, “F-Forty-four.”
“Just the right age,” he said
in a soft voice.
Oh my! Someone want to hand me a fan over here?
You can get your own copy of Rodeo Heat from:
Thanks for dropping by, Desiree!
Originality is all about personal definition. Originality chooses not to acknowledge the power of standards when seeking something true. It dares to be different, dares to be strange, dares to be ugly to find beauty. Beware, originality is a double-edge sword. One stroke can earn you accolades, another stroke could cut you off at the knees. Dancing along that razor's edge, you have to balance the need to be unique with the drive to be accepted by fostering independence from the judgement of others. Sometimes, the call of conformity will make you shy away from that precipice, playing up your fear of falling, of failing. Originality pushes right up to the edge, peers over into the unknown and then chooses to use that moment to create something new. Step off. Step back. Step out.
