You Can Race Those?

August 12

I want to thank Maddie for having me back again. It’s always a good time with Maddie. If you can’t have a blast with your pals, who can you have a blast with?

Now the title of this post has to do with racing. I love, LOVE racing. I spend most of my Sundays writing while listening to the stock car races. I’m one of those strange beings who has to have noise when I write. Silence screws me up so much.

I titled this post ‘you can race those’ because I’ve had people ask me what I write. Well, contemporary erotic romance and the occasional paranormal erotic romance. But I love to weave racing into my stories. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. 

I was asked, well, how do you link romance and racing? Guys in suits. Seriously. Girls in suits. Doesn’t matter the sex of the being in the suit, but it’s the sharp dressed person mentality. Guys and girls look hot when they’re in a suit, or in this case, a firesuit. The guys and girls drive fast and risk their lives for the glory of the win. Pretty cool, but that’s my humble opinion.

I had someone ask me, well, they race cars, but you write about late models and trucks. They don’t race trucks, do they? If there’s a motor in it, someone will race it. Or they’ll add a motor and race it. Ingenuity is great when you’ve got the need for speed.  So yes, you can race just about anything.

In Saturday Night Special, my hero, Blaine, drives what is called a Late Model racing car. A Late model kind of looks like a DeLorean. Flat planes for the hood, very angular, and seemingly futuristic. But each part of the car has it’s purpose. It’s a different looking car and has huge tires.  Blaine, being a driver, has control issues. He likes things his way. But even the toughest driver has a point at which he needs to hand over control. That’s what I love about Blaine. For all his need for control, he also needs to give up control in order to center himself. That’s where Mallory comes in and it’s a sexy time.

I loved being able to work racing into this story and I hope that shines through for the readers. Saturday Night Special is one of my favorite stories because it combines my favorite things—racing, hot men, BDSM, and sex in fun places. I hope you enjoy the book, too.

Thanks Maddie for having me. I could talk about racing for hours. J

 
 


She makes his motor run.

Blaine Haeferle drives fast and lives on the edge. He’s not afraid to risk it all for the win—unless his heart is in the mix. He loved once, but things ended in disaster. Can he accept the woman who holds his heart, despite all their jagged past?

Mallory Sweet never intended to leave Blaine without a word. But one night changed everything for her. Instead of facing her past, she ran. Is coming to terms with her past the key to winning the love of her life back?

Anything can happen on a Saturday night under the lights.
 

EXCERPT:

With Kellen on the back of the machine, Blaine sped through the pits to the track. The surface seemed fine, if not a little dry. He couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to Mallory.

“I don’t know, Kell—her being here has me fucked up.” Blaine gripped the handlebars. “I can’t wrap my mind around her coming back.”

“No shit,” Kellen replied. “If they keep watering the surface, the track will get tacky but I’m pretty sure it’ll be bone dry by lap twenty.”

“Yeah, the grip is up on the top shelf.”

“Cool. I can adjust for that.” Kellen gripped Blaine’s shoulders. “About your woman situation…you’re here to do a job not tag a piece of ass. Don’t hit me and don’t throw me off the back of this thing. She used to be a sweet girl and I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”

“But?”

“But you’re here to race so we can afford new parts for the Friday night car and buy a new front nose piece for the Saturday car. The Saturday Night Special pays well and you know

it. Figure out things with her afterward. She’ll be here. If I have to barricade the damn hauler and enlist the badass twins, I’ll keep her there. Hell, I might even have them escort Susie out while they’re at it. She’s not helping at all. I swear she’s been screwing around.”

“I haven’t fucked her, so I have no idea.”

“Good. Don’t. Let’s head back to the pits. It appears they’re doing the fireworks now instead of after the race. Gives me a little more time to adjust on the car and you time to work your shit out.”

“You know you can be a real asshole when you want to, but you’re right.”

“I aim to please or at least kick your ass into winning. Head back to the pits, hot shoe.”

Blaine processed Kell’s words. If the powers that be changed the order of the program, he’d have time to talk to Mallory. Whatever she had to say, he’d be pissed. But they had a few minutes—plenty of time to make a sexy memory before he found out exactly what she had to say. Blood rushed through his body and centered in his cock. Yeah, he needed to make at least one more white-hot memory with her. Blaine pulled to a stop behind the hauler. No Mallory.

Quint nodded to the hauler truck. “She’s in there.”

“Thanks.” Blaine headed through the side door and climbed the stairs to the cabin area of the hauler truck. Mallory hugged herself and sat on the edge of the couch.

“Hey.” She didn’t move, just watched him. “Blaine. I came back here because it was more private. I’m sorry if I encroached.”

“Don’t want to talk.” Blaine locked the door and crossed the short expanse to her. She shot out of her seat and opened her mouth to protest. He smothered her answer with a kiss. Lust and desire slammed into his brain. As much as he’d told himself he didn’t love her, he knew better. She flowed through his soul. Mallory clutched at his shirt and pressed her body to his. This, her soft body underneath him, this is what he needed. Craved. He angled her to the couch and dropped down between her knees. He broke the kiss and shoved her skirt up past her hips. She gasped and braced her feet. The heels of her shoes clicked on the hardwood floor.

* * * * * * *

Want to know more about me?

I’ve always dreamt of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line.  I love playing with words and letting the characters run wild.

NASCAR, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, animals and second chance romance  all feature prominently in my books.  I also write under the pen name of Megan Slayer. I’m published with Total-E-Bound, Resplendence Publishing, Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books, Turquoise Morning Press, Decadent Publishing and The Wild Rose Press. Come join me for this fantastic journey!  
 

If you like my work, tell your friends and email me. I love hearing from readers!
 
 
 

Thanks for stopping by and helping us get our motors revved, Wendy. 

August Awakening

August 8

Madison:  Okay, last month Macy Beck teased us with the prospect of a St. Blaise story that will tug at our heartstrings. Now, she’s back on the hot seat and she’d better be prepared to share the goods. 

Macy: I am. Let me tell you, there wasn’t a person in St. Blaise who didn’t get a little choked up the first time they saw Alex Stephenson take Jenny Clyburn’s hand. He is a good guy, but he wasn’t always. That’s what makes Alex and Jenny’s story so special. 

Madison:  What do you mean he wasn’t always a good guy? 

Macy: Once upon a time, Alex Stephenson was the kind of spoiled, snotty rich kid James Spader used to pretend to be in all those movies from the nineteen-eighties. He was reckless and wild and didn’t care about anything. Not even himself. Then life dished up a series of harsh lessons, and suddenly the golden boy wasn’t quite so golden anymore. Jenny was our Miss August. Another hometown girl who was petted and protected from the day she was born. Alex saw another person poised on the brink of taking the wrong path and stepped in. Before either of them knew what was happening, they both fell. Hard. 

Here’s the setup: 

     The only things Admissions Clerk Jennifer Clyburn admits being addicted to are: Caramello bars, shoe sales, and diet cherry Cokes from the Sonic. One minor fender-bender, and old Judge Whitby decides to teach her a lesson by effectively ruining her Friday nights. Still, there is one advantage to being sentenced to six weeks of alcohol awareness classes—she gets to spend a good hour each week ogling local bad boy, Alex Stephenson.

     Alex was once the crowned prince of St. Blaise. The son and only heir to the area’s largest employer, he grew up spoiled rotten and cocky as hell. The world was his oyster up until the day everything spun out of control. The red Corvette he got for his eighteenth birthday was a total loss. So was the sixteen-year-old girl in his passenger seat.

     Ten years later, scarred and broken, Alex is back in St. Blaise leading the local recovery meetings in hopes of sparing someone the guilt and grief he’ll carry with him the rest of his life.

     Jenny Clyburn is just the kind of good-time girl he used to love, but now he’s smart enough to recognize the demons that drive her. Her smart mouth is temptation incarnate, and her docile nature a siren song. Unable to resist, Alex takes it upon himself to teach her the best ways to master her impulses and surrender that which she can’t control. 

And here is a snapshot (warning - this one has some language in it): 

     “I killed Stacey Morgan.”
     Her sharp intake of breath told him his confession was not in vain. Though he had no doubt she knew his history, he also figured she’d rewritten good chunks of it in her head to make this thing between them more palatable. He couldn’t let her do that. Not if they were both going to get what they needed most.
     “I’m telling you because I think most people want to forget, but I never will. Yes, I was young, and stupid, and as fucked up as the day is long, but being an idiot doesn’t alter the facts. I knew better. She was too young, and too na├»ve, and not nearly fucked up enough to be able to say the same.”
     “Alex—”
     He held up a hand to stop her. “Please, just let me….” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he allowed himself to avert his gaze a bit. Not enough to block her out, but as much as he needed to make room for the memories in the forefront of his mind. “You know I was a junkie, but you’re not an alcoholic. I can tell. You don’t have enough fear in you.”
     “I’m afraid of everything,” she whispered.
     He zeroed in on her again. “Being afraid and living in fear are two different things.”
     Her soft hand in his, he carried it to the collar of his shirt then slid her fingers under the soft cotton. The second her fingertips grazed the ugly raised scar on his shoulder her lips parted. He held his breath, every nerve ending in his body screaming her name when she caressed the gnarled skin. Exhaling a bit of his trepidation, he attempted a reassuring smile but it fell way short of the mark.
     “Afraid is a temporary thing, but fear never goes away.” His voice pitched low and steady, he dropped his hand. Her gentle fingertips sailed over the bumpy ridge and skated onto a patch of slick, tight skin. “I’m afraid you’ll send me home tonight before I get a chance to kiss you.” Arousal, stark and hungry, flared in her eyes and he lost control of his lungs altogether. “And I want you. I want you more than I can say, but I live in fear that one day, any day, I might break down and trade the pleasure of having you for a hit of something not so sweet. One magic pill,” he whispered.
     “You said you would give me what I need.”
     “I can give you what you want,” he corrected. “I may be what you need for a little while, but I need you to understand why I’m not a good bet in the long term.”
     She looked up, unperturbed by his assertion. “You’re not that man anymore.”
     “I will always be that man,” he said without a moment of hesitation. “You have to understand, I will never escape this. No matter how much everyone around me wants to forget it ever happened.” 

Madison:  Wow. Wow. 

Macy: I know. Now you know why we’re all so damn happy for them. It takes a lot of courage to take a chance on someone like Alex, and even more for Alex to open himself up to another person. You’ll fall in love with them too. 

Madison:  I can’t wait to read it. August Awakening by Maggie Wells is available in all ebook formats at the Turquoise Morning Press bookstore or your favorite online retailer. For more information on the Hot Nights in St. Blaise series, readers can visit www.maggie-wells.com. Who do we have coming up next month? 

Macy: Oooh! Just you wait. Sexy Mr. September has a secret, and the good sheriff’s sister is just the girl to wheedle it out of him. 

Madison:  Fabulous! Thanks for being here, Macy. See you next month!