Are Your Sheets Clean?

Over at Clean Sheets, there is definitely something naughty going down...

Indiana Jones, with Camera

Of all the stories I have ever written (and that's a lot of stories!), this one is my favorite. I hope you enjoy it.

Let Me Seduce You...

Ah, yes. Seduction. That's what LoveHoney is all about this month, as they showcase the new Seduction anthology from Black Lace. They've chosen an excerpt from my short story to be feature this month, as well as an interview with yours truly!

You can read an introduction to the book here.

You can read the excerpt from "Rush" here.

And you can read my interview here!

Want to leave your own review of the book? You can do that here.

And...if you order Seduction, you get a free vibrator to help you act out a few of those naughty fantasies between the pages...what could be better?

With all this Seduction going on, it's getting a bit hot in here...

Are You Ready for Seduction?

A hot read that leaves you panting for more, Seduction is a deliciously naughty collection of stories that allow the reader to indulge in many forbidden passions. This collection has a story to meet everyone's fantasy.

That's what CataRomance had to say about the new Seduction anthology from Black Lace. My little naughty "Rush" is among the offerings in this fantastic book. Here's a preview:

An excerpt from "Rush" -

“You’ve dipped this cock into more pussy than you can count, haven’t you?” she asked, holding his cock in her hand like it was a throttle. Her thumb was on his head, swirling in circles. “I’ll bet you’ve had more ass than you can count, too. And more blowjobs.”

He looked at her and said nothing.

“You’ve had so many fucks, they all blend together into a blurred chain of pussy. Don’t they?”

This was it. She was going to crucify him for his sexual past. He knew it was coming. How could he have been so stupid?

“And I’ve hardly been with anybody. I don’t think that’s fair, do you?”

He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. He felt almost two inches tall.

“I think I should have some pussy, too.”

David blinked in surprise. His cock surged harder in her hand. She giggled like a schoolgirl and sank her mouth down on his dick. Her tongue sucked and her lips drew back hard and when she pumped him into her throat, he went to redline. She stopped sucking right before he could get off.

“What do you think?”

Never, ever ask a man what he thinks right as he’s about to come. You just might get exactly what he’s thinking, and it might not be tempered with common sense.

“I would love to see you fuck other people,” David said.

Her eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” she said with an air of wonder.

She sucked him deep, one last time, finally giving him a bit of mercy. He came hard. He shot everything into her mouth. He saw stars. She licked and sucked until there was nothing left.

“Other people,” she murmured, and giggled.

David knew he was in big trouble.

*

Of course, he reneged on everything as soon as he was coherent enough to do so. Sure, he would love to see it, but he would never actually be able to do it, he told her. It was a good fantasy. Sometimes he thought about it. Not often, though. Not hardly ever, actually. And why would he want to share? He didn’t like to share. He wasn’t good at it. He didn’t want to share her. Would she want to share him?
She looked at him the whole time with knowing eyes and that wise little smile.

“Do you have anybody in mind?” she asked simply.

David sighed in exasperation. “Did you hear a single word I said?”

“Every bit.”

“Good. I think I made myself clear.”

“Sure. I’ve been thinking about a stranger. I don’t want to run the risk of ruining a friendship, so any of your friends are out. My friends, too. Friends are better kept as friends and not made into fuck buddies, don’t you think?”

He stared at her.

“Well?”

“You’re insane. You’re not fucking anybody else. That’s final.”

She winked at him and giggled again.

“Okay, big man. Whatever you say.”

*

There's quite a bit more where that came from - David and Katie have quite the adventure! To get this story and all the others in Seduction, get your copy here.

Forbidden Publications is Closing

It's always sad to see a publisher fold. It's even sadder when that publisher has done so well, and when the owners have gone out of their way to take care of their authors. When so many e-publishers are making headlines for lawsuits, nonpayment, breach of contract and the like, a fantastic place like Forbidden Publications was a breath of fresh air.

So I was sad to learn that they are closing down at the end of March. All of the books they have offered these last few years will be pulled at that time, including a few of my own: After All These Years and the new, anniversary edition of Sex & Guitars will no longer be available. I will be removing the links to FP over the next few weeks.

However! If you are still interested in getting your copy, zip me an email and we'll make sure you get one.

It's sad to see Forbidden Publications go...they were one of the good guys.

"Memphis" in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories

Do you think hotels are sexy? Do you ever wonder what the couple in the next room are doing? Do you ever feel like a different person when you're tucked away in a hotel, hidden from the world in one of those rooms that have seen countless lovers, trysts, heartbreaks, heartthrobs, and other things you can only begin to guess?

You can find a bit of it all in Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories. You can find my story "Memphis" there as well. Here's a preview:

Is that how it started? Is that how affairs begin? With a simple gesture or word that suddenly turns an old friendship or a new stranger into a lover crying out above you in a rented bed somewhere on the edge of nowhere? Is it something that drops out of the blue and explodes like a bomb, fragmenting your life? Or is it something that plants inside you and grows into beauty and memories that evoke smiles, building you into something stronger than you once were?

I’ve discovered that for me and my married lover, it is a bounce in your step that everyone notices but can’t explain how it got there or exactly when it appeared. It is a phone call, a voice on the other end that is clearly a man yet when someone asks you who that was, you recall the name of your best friend who is clearly a woman. It is pulling up beside a sports car parked outside of a hotel in a town you’ve never visited before, an open door with the “Do Not Disturb” sign already in place. It is no time for words before you are rushed into a dimly lit room and surrounded by his arms, his voice, and his desire as you both collapse to the bed that has become your refuge.

He was married. I knew that as I walked with him out of the restaurant and slid into the passenger seat of his sports car. I heard her name in my head as he drove, one hand on the wheel and one hand on my thigh. I saw her in my head as the door closed behind us. I listened to her voice laughing with him as he pressed me back against that door and kissed me. I felt the guilt as I kissed him back, but I wanted him more than I wanted to heed the ethical conscience that was shaking its head in shame.

I didn’t hate her. I didn’t even want to hate her. She was my best friend. She was a good wife, a good mother. She was a better woman than me. She didn’t deserve this.

I slipped his wedding band off and it dropped to the floor.

Want to get the rest of the story and a few other naughty tales? Get your copy of Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories by clicking here.

Updates...Lots of Them!

Where to begin?

Erotica Revealed gave Bedding Down: A Collection of Winter Erotica a fantastic review! They loved many of the stories in the collection, and they had this to say about my bit:

“Six Weeks on Sunrise Mountain, Colorado” by Gwen Masters is literally a cliff-hanger. The plot premise (celebrity recluse rescues the journalist who tracked him down in the wilderness) is one of the most unusual and dramatic in the book. Here is the first meeting of the hermit on the mountain and the woman who has risked her life to find him:

He found the woman at the foot of the ravine. Even in the moonlight, she looked pale as a ghost. Blood covered her forehead and a bruise was already flowering under her right eye.

Luckily, healing of various kinds takes place during six weeks of hibernation in a snowbound cabin, when the man and woman come to know each other.

If you're interested in reading Bedding Down, get it here.

And on to another anthology - this one Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories. My story "Memphis" is among the offerings in this collection. I did an interview about the story and sexy hotels on Rachel Kramer Bussel's blog - go here to read it.

And finally, a few of my short stories are popping up in other collections, too:

"Secrets in Turkey Bay" can be found in the latest edition of the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica...

And "Rush" can be found in the new Black Lace Seduction anthology.

Much more to come!

Time for Bedding Down...

The gorgeous Bedding Down anthology is now here!

Bedding Down: A Collection of Winter Erotica is on shelves now. My novella "Six Weeks on Sunrise Mountain, Colorado" is included in the book.

Here's the cover blurb for my bit: A billionaire recluse and a beautiful paparazzo generate some serious heat in a snowbound cabin in the Colorado Rockies...

And here's the first page or so, just to tease...

The weathered old porch creaked as Fletcher rocked back and forth in the chair. The moon slowly came up over Sunrise Mountain, casting its silver light over the cedar and pine. Snow had started to fall hours ago, the kind of snow that turned to ice as soon as it touched anything on the ground. The trees were leaning with the pressure on their branches. The road was impassable already, and would remain that way for weeks.

Fletcher was completely unconcerned with time and content to be snowed in. He went on rocking and listened to the snow settling on the old tin roof above him. Every now and then he spotted an owl, rising on white wings, gliding soundlessly over the treetops. The moonlight turned the owl’s eyes into bright prisms of light for an instant before it disappeared into the leaves again.

The shape of a small animal at the end of his long gravel driveway caught his eye. Fletcher calmly reached for the shotgun propped up against the porch railing, running his hand over the smooth barrel, ready to use the weapon if necessary. Eventually the animal left the shadows and walked through a shaft of moonlight, showing Fletcher the distinctive markings on its face – a raccoon. The little fellow waddled its way up the rocky road that surrounded the cabin and occasionally stopped to sniff the air, barely bothering to glance at the now-familiar man up on the porch. Fletcher relaxed and let his hand fall from the barrel of the gun.

Up on Sunrise Mountain, all kinds of animals might come hunting to his doorstep, but it was very doubtful any of them would be human, and that suited Fletcher just fine. He had jumped into the rat race at a fresh-faced twenty-two, straight from college to a high-pressure job in Silicon Valley. By thirty-two, the dot com boom had slammed with the force of a nuclear bomb, and he was a millionaire many times over. By the time he was thirty-five, he was so burned out he didn’t give a damn if he had a dollar to his name, as long as he had some peace of mind. There was no one he trusted.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that the worst predators were of his own kind.

Fletcher looked back up at the moon. It danced into the snow clouds, turning the world darker. His ears made up for what his eyes could no longer see in the dim light. Leaves rustled with the breeze. Tiny animals scurried around the sides of the cabin, bolder now that they were under the cover of night. A mountain lion howled, and though the sound echoed with menace through the wide valley between the hills, Fletcher’s confident ear knew the big boy was miles away.

The raccoon was still making its way up the drive. Fletcher had taken a liking to his furry neighbor and kept back a bit of dinner now and again, then set it around the porch for the raccoon to find. Fletcher liked to watch the pretty creature in the moonlight. It was the only company he had up here in the middle of nowhere.

He watched as the raccoon stopped in mid-stride and looked toward the top of the ravine. Fletcher slowly stopped rocking and listened closely to the sounds he understood just as well as his own language – the slight tapping of one tree limb against another, the abrupt silence of a larger animal when it caught the scent of a human on the air, the unholy scream of a hawk as it dove for prey. The raccoon listened, too, its tiny head cocked to better hear the sounds on the air.

Fletcher heard it then, the sound that was so out of place – a scuffling, bumbling sound, unlike any of the sleek animals so accustomed to wandering through the woods at night.

He rose slowly to his feet, staring at the place from where he was certain the sound had come. The raccoon was down on all fours again, sniffing cautiously, still as a stone. The sound came again, but the coon wasn’t making a move to investigate, and Fletcher knew that wasn’t a good sign. That raccoon was a smart animal. He knew better than to attack anything bigger than he was.

Fletcher thumbed the safety on the rifle and lifted it to his shoulder.

If you want to read more, you know what to do. Enjoy!

Revelations

More Sex & Guitars...one can never have enough of Sex, or enough of Guitars, don't you think?

We had been out on the water all day, and my tender skin would pay for the indulgence later. He wouldn’t suffer any such pain, with his skin honed to a fine bronze by years of Delta summers. I was the fair-skinned of Irish descent, the kind that bursts into freckles at the slightest provocation of springtime. He teased me about those freckles as we sat at a picnic table beneath a tree near the water.

“I think I can count them, if you hold still.” I giggled and buried my face in my hands. “Pretty soon, you will have freckled hair and eyes, won’t that be a sight. You can stand in front of a pegboard and disappear.”

He took a long pull of his beer, the amber bottle still dripping with ice water from the cooler. He slid the bottle down his throat, over his chest. It left tiny drops of condensation on his heated skin. The sight was enough to make my mouth water, and he knew it.

“Want some?” he teased. I reached out as if to touch his chest, then quickly swiped the beer from his hand. Disappointment flickered over his face. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

I ignored him and drank the beer. It was icy cold on my tongue, the only way I would ever consider drinking the stuff. He watched me for a moment before he reached down into the cooler to open another one. I eyed the stockpile and was surprised to find it almost gone. Twenty beers? And there were only two left? That meant...I calculated quickly in my head.

“You have had sixteen beers in six hours?” I blurted.

He stopped with the new bottle halfway to his lips, considering. He closed one eye and narrowed his gaze to look into the mouth of the bottle. “Yep,” he finally affirmed, before downing a quarter of the one he held.

I tried to dismiss the shiver that ran through me, but I couldn’t help the tally that ran unbidden in my head. The beers. The drinks with last night’s dinner. The margaritas with yesterday’s lunch. I looked out at the water and tried to remember another time when he had drank quite so much. I couldn’t think of one.

“Is something wrong?” I asked quietly.

There was only the slightest hesitation that told me, yes, something was very wrong here.

“No,” he said.

For the first time, I knew without a doubt that Ayza was lying to me.

To read more, click here to get the book!

Moments of Reckoning

Here's another excerpt from Sex & Guitars...enjoy!

Even my closest friends knew nothing about Ayza. They knew there was a man in my life, a quiet and private person who made me blush with anticipation. But they never knew who it might be, and Ayza would never be suspected. He was a family man in most circles, a fine, upstanding citizen, and church-going husband who would never, ever be caught in the company of another woman.

We were living a double life.

Ayza stirred, and I stopped rocking. My hands had moved of their own accord while my thoughts went elsewhere, and I looked down to see that I was almost out of thread. When I reached for the spool it fell to the floor, and the small clatter woke him.

Ayza opened his eyes and shifted onto his side, looking at me as I dropped the quilt gently and rocked out of the chair, onto my knees, to retrieve the thread.

“Now, that’s a pretty sight to wake up to,” he said. He was looking at my chest. I glanced down to see my breasts, unbound and free, pressing hard against the low-cut shirt I wore.

“Want to see more?”

“Hmmm…yes. But not just yet. I want to be fully awake to enjoy it.”

We both smiled and I sat back in the chair. A few slow motions and the quilt was settled on my lap again. I looked closely at the needle and worked on threading it.

“I don’t know how you do that,” he said, watching me intently.

“What, thread a needle?”

“Yeah. I’m not dexterous enough to do that. That’s the word, right?”

I nodded. “It takes patience to thread a needle. More patience than skill.”

“My eyes are getting bad. I need to go get glasses or something.” I looked up at him, surprised. “Well, they are. It’s hard to read things sometimes. I don’t like to think about it because that means I’m getting older. I don’t like the idea of getting older.”

“Thirty-seven isn’t old, Ayza.”

He sighed. “It feels old sometimes.”

I began to rock again, weaving the needle in and out of layers of cotton and polyester. I knew there was more, so I waited it out, letting the thoughts form in his head. The sound of the rocking chair squeaking gently across the old floorboards was accompanied by the crackling of the fire. There were no other sounds in the room, save the occasional ticking of sleet against the wide windows.

“You make me feel young,” he said. “You make me feel like I can do anything I want to do. You believe in me. It’s unquestioning. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Believe so strongly.”

I thought about that for the space of twenty heartbeats. “It’s a gut reaction. A knowledge deep down inside me that says belief is okay, and acceptance is even better.”

“You accept me.”

“Yes. Completely.”

“Even though you know I can hurt you so badly?”

It was the first time either of us had acknowledged the possibility out loud. I slowly stopped rocking and leaned forward, letting the quilt fall again to the floor. I lowered my head to my hands. The thimble was cool and hard against my temple. Slow and even breaths suddenly seemed very important.

In that moment, I was stunned by the emotion that coursed through me. Love gave way to a small glimmer of hatred.

“Finchy?”

“You will hurt me, Ayza. There isn’t a question about that.” Something inside me cracked like fine glass on marble when I said it aloud. The desperation I tried so often to fight welled up.

The certainty was the hardest part. That damned feeling of dread in the middle of the night when he slept beside her instead of me. I knew the pain would break over me like a wave at any time it deemed fit, and damned if I was ready for it or not. It was the certainty that I had taken my life out of my own hands and put it in his. Sometimes I wondered when he would grow weary of holding it, when his hand would slip or his mind would wander just enough. And then it would fall like a fine crystal vase to that cold and ungenerous floor. He would try to catch it, realizing his mistake almost before it happened, but he would be unable to rectify the wrong.

What would he be left with? Maybe only shards that threatened to draw blood should he venture too close or ply his heroic rescue a little too eagerly. Perhaps with time, he could gather the largest parts and puzzle them together with imagination and apology, and make my heart something that appeared to be whole again. Yet there would always be tiniest bits of glass left unfound. It would never be the same, for those diamonds of imperfection would always elude him.

One false move, and I was a broken woman at the hands of a man who would always be sorry, yet incapable of restitution.

It is the possible curse of all who love, yet the certainty of the woman who loves a married man. And that was the moment of clarity, there in the cabin just outside of Memphis.

I was falling in love with Ayza.

To get the book, click here.

The Things We Tell Ourselves

Here is an excerpt from Sex & Guitars... enjoy!

I drove myself crazy with questions that had no answers. I didn’t realize that I had already made up my mind until I was in that old Mustang, heading south. Only then did the second thoughts strike back with a vengeance.

I drove slowly, carefully. The rain whipped down in a torrent and the windshield wipers fought a bravely lost battle. I couldn't see my own headlights. Somewhere beside me the road dropped off into the river, a swirling beauty turned into a deadly monster by the hand of Mother Nature. Giving up to the rain, I slowly came to a stop, pulling as far off the road as I dared. I sat back in the old leather seat and focused on the downpour that slammed down inches from my face, watched as the drops didn't take the time to explore, simply made room for another and another, and another.

He was waiting in Memphis.

The leather was warm under my legs. The key chain made a ticking sound as it swung back and forth, still believing in the momentum of a car long stopped. Thought was almost impossible in the sound of the deluge. I rolled the window down just a bit, just enough to magnify the rush of sound, just enough to let the faint scent of his cologne dissipate. Could I really smell him, or was it imagination?

I thought about my memories of him evaporating with the ease of that seductive aroma and I found myself rolling the window back up, making sure it was tight against the outside world, as if that would shut out the passage of time or the need for choices. And then the question occurred to me.

For whom did he care more: the woman he sought to protect by keeping a secret? Or the woman he shared all his secrets with?

I thought about his hands. The hand that often wore a wedding band, the hand that worked with precision over his guitar, the hand that cradled his children. The same hand that had shook as he undressed me for the first time. The hand that held my head hard against his shoulder as we moved together, both of us knowing it was wrong, but feeling the rightness of it all the same.

I touched the steering wheel of the old Mustang. I could almost feel the warmth of him there.

She was the better woman. Of that I had no doubt.

I closed my eyes to the downpour. Gusts of wind rocked the car and I swayed with them. I was waiting patiently for the winds of change to stop trying to push or pull me, for the rain to stop, for the sun to peek over the horizon, for all to be right with the world. I thought about his long, dark hair gliding through my fingers.

I contemplated the heightened passion a shared secret could bring, the furtive need. The desire that the forbidden always provided.

Was it better for her that she not know of my existence? Or did she already know, the way a woman knows? There is a certain moment when a woman looks at her man in a certain light and suddenly she sees the guilt in every fiber of his being, the honesty that he can only hide when the walls are up and intact. Had she seen it yet? Had she felt the slight change in his touch and seen the barely concealed arrogance and anticipation that now filled the man she thought she knew?

It was better for me because I was allowed to see what she did not.

I decided I would believe that.

**

Click here to get the whole story!

Sex & Guitars is Released!

Last week, Sex & Guitars was released as an eBook! Now you can enjoy the story on your eReader, your laptop, or whatever cool device you use to get your good reads.

Here's the Blurb:

Finchy is still hurting from the demise of a relationship she believed was forever. Ayza is a recording artist on the rise and far too sexy for his own good. When Ayza offers her a shoulder to cry on and the comfort she needs, Finchy falls into his arms. As Ayza’s songs blaze up the charts, Finchy becomes his muse, the only thing he loves more than the music. Together against the world and buoyed by success, they feel invincible.

But charming Ayza is married, a fact Finchy keeps firmly between them, no matter how intense their affair becomes. Their relationship grows with every hotel room, every stolen moment, and every mile on that tour bus. The guilt grows, too, until Ayza is drowning in the bottom of a bottle, his career in jeopardy. With both of them pushed to the edge, Finchy has to answer the toughest questions she will ever face: Is there hope for redemption? Is there hope for a future? Should she walk away? Or should she hold onto the man she loves, no matter what the cost?

For some history behind the book, visit this blog post from a while back.

To purchase the eBook, click here.

Excerpts are coming shortly...I plan quite a few of them, so stay tuned for a peek at the story!

What Have I Been Doing?

I've been rather quiet these last few weeks. There are several reasons for that, but the most interesting one has to do with a great big package I received in the mail. You can blame my absence on the generosity of Babeland!

Babeland is celebrating 15 years in the business of pleasure. My very first vibrator was a sexy little purple thing from Babeland. I wore it out within a year, but I loved it so much I had to buy another. Then another. Then something else.

Then I got my lover into the game, and from that point on, it was sex toy heaven.

I love Babeland toys for soooo many reasons. They are always reliable -- I haven't had a single one of them break down, and trust me, I've tried my best to wear them out! They offer some of the coolest and most unique toys. Most of all, the variety means I always have something new to look forward to -- whether it's the tried-and-true Rabbit, the Cadillac of Vibrators, or the cuteness of a Rubber Duckie. (Yes, a Duckie, I kid you not!)

I've done quite a few Babeland reviews for Clean Sheets in the past few years. You can find those here:

Getting Off Quick with Babeland

Getting Wet and Wicked with Babeland

Becoming an Expert with Babeland

Look, Honey -- No Hands! A Review of the We Vibrator

And you can bet I'm going to be doing more.

Happy Anniversary, Babeland! Here's to another fifteen years of orgasmic joy.

Want to Share Some Whipped Cream With Me?

I've got a ton of whipped cream, ready to share with you...just take a look at the Whipped Cream site, where they took the time to interview me! (What did you think I meant, hmmm?)

In this interview I talk about everything from erotic writing to sensual research to...well, Coca-Cola and lobsters. Seriously!

Click here to take a look at the interview, and don't forget to join the WC yahoo group -- I'll be around this week, answering any questions you might have. Except maybe that question about my most embarrassing moment. There are some things even an erotica writer doesn't tell!

Do You Have Yours Yet?

If you don't have your copy of One Breath at a Time yet (and really, why don't you?), you can get a sneak peek here:

Open The Book Here!

It is a suprisingly comprehensive feature, giving you half of the first chapter, the first page of each chapter after that, and some little extras. I was pleasantly surprised to see that you can read enough of the book to get a good taste...but not enough to give away the all the naughty things you will find on the other pages!

Take a look, tell me what you think...and then get your own copy to enjoy.

Sexy Stories...Whispered Into Your Ear...

If you're in the mood for a sexy bedtime story, you can find it at A Woman's Goodnight, one of the 'hottest' new audio sites out there! They have everything from sweet and sensual to hardcore and kinky.

They also have one of my stories, a brand new tale of "The One I Couldn't Forget." Hop over to their Romantica section and check it out -- you can listen to a one-minute sample before you get the full story.

Let the hot and sexy listening begin!

I've Been Busy...

Testing out sex toys and reading naughty books!

Check out Clean Sheets for my latest reviews. I've been getting Wet and Wicked with Babeland (oh, my, what fun that was!) and for inspiration, I've been reading about the sexy men who wear Hard Hats (apparently, those hats aren't the only things that were hard...)

Click here for the Babeland Review

Click here for the Hard Hats Review

Cheers!

Brieanna Robertson's Newsletter!

I'm the featured author this month in Brieanna Robertson's newsletter and MySpace. She's editing the latest edition of Sex & Guitars , and she's done a fantastic job!

Click here to visit her site and read the newsletter for June.

Fallen Angel Reviews: "When the Lights Go Down"

"When the Lights Go Down" was my first release from Forbidden Publications. It's a short and sweet story, and Fallen Angel Reviews loved it!

Here's part of what they had to say:

Usually I do not like reading in the first person but I must say that with this short story, using the first person gave the story the right amount of credence and feeling. The sex is quite amazing. The couple comes together with steamy, passionate sex with a very loving touch. The story is short but I found it was quite touching.

If you want to read more, click here.

To get the book for yourself, go here.

I'm Back!

I've been out of commission for a while, but I'm back...and with lots of new news to share!

My latest review at Clean Sheets is now live. I enjoyed Hard Hats, a collection of lots of sexy men getting hot and sweaty on construction sites...and I wrote all about it. Check out the review here.

My latest story is up on The Erotic Woman. "Better Than Brazil" is the tale of two people who grow closer and closer...and then they meet. Check it out by clicking here.

My latest column is up at For the Girls. This time I talk about dealing with that delicate balance of old friends and a new relationship:

I had ignored the sly digs she made when she thought I wasn’t listening. I had taken the high road and let slide the snide little comments she sometimes made about Mr. Right’s “ball and chain.” I had even defended her once or twice, when it seemed she was too catty for her own good, and chalked it up to the changes that happen when relationships grow.

But when she assumed how I felt, and immediately blamed me without a second thought, I had had enough.

When the claws come out, honey, I’m one little pussy who hisses right back.

Meow! Click here to visit For the Girls and read about the drama!

More coming soon...

I'm in the Spotlight!

The Author Spotlight, that is. The good people over at Joyfully Reviewed asked me a lot of questions, and I had a lot of answers! I'm talking about my favorite things, finding happily-ever-after and what I think is the most interesting thing about yours truly. Oh...and I talk about writing, too.

Visit the Author Spotlight at Joyfully Reviewed to read the interview.

Cover Art for "Sex & Guitars"

Here's a sneak peek of the cover art for my latest Forbidden Publications release, Sex & Guitars. This is my erotic memoir that was previously only available in hardcover -- now it's available in ebook! Isn't the cover lovely?


I'm happy to see this memoir available in ebook, and I can't wait to share it with a whole new audience. I wrote a bit about the newest edit of the book in a blog entry a few months ago. It is a book that is obviously very near and dear to my heart.

Here's the cover blurb:

Finchy is still hurting from the demise of a relationship she believed was forever. Ayza is a recording artist on the rise and far too sexy for his own good. When Ayza offers her a shoulder to cry on and the comfort she needs, Finchy falls into his arms. As Ayza’s songs blaze up the charts, Finchy becomes his muse, the only thing he loves more than the music. Together against the world and buoyed by success, they feel invincible.

But charming Ayza is married, a fact Finchy keeps firmly between them, no matter how intense their affair becomes. Their relationship grows with every hotel room, every stolen moment, and every mile on that tour bus. The guilt grows, too, until Ayza is drowning in the bottom of a bottle, his career in jeopardy. With both of them pushed to the edge, Finchy has to answer the toughest questions she will ever face: Is there hope for redemption? Is there hope for a future? Should she walk away? Or should she hold onto the man she loves, no matter what the cost?

Watch for it...Sex & Guitars is coming soon!

That's a Lot of Stars!

Four and a half stars, that is. Lots of stars! That was the review from Romantic Times Book Review Magazine for One Breath at a Time. They think it's definitely worth a read! Pick up the latest issue of to get the full review.

If you happen to be in the Nashville area, the Barnes & Noble in Cool Springs still has a few autographed copies of One Breath at a Time. Get them while you can!

Another Reason Commitment is Hot...

This month on For the Girls, I'm talking about that scary thing called Commitment, and one of those perks of settling down -- sex hotter than a mile of firecrackers!

The connection I felt with Mr. Right was fire-engine hot, the kind of sizzling seduction that kept me awake at night. I was in a state of sexual charge that was impossible to deny. One look at him and all the pleasure centers in my body lit up. I’ve read about pheromones and the things they do to the body, and if all that’s true, then Mr. Right must have been born with much more than his proper share...

To read the rest, visit For the Girls! While you're there, check out the rest of my Surviving Mr. Right column. It's all about what happens when the dating game ends and the real fun begins!

Featured Author Day!

It's my Featured Author Day on the Romance Excerpts Only group. Want to read some great teasers from my latest novels? Or read about how they got started, and some of my thoughts on the tales? I'm posting excerpts, snippets of reviews and insights into books like After All These Years and One Breath at a Time.

Click here to join me!

More Lovely Reviews!

The reviews are rolling in for One Breath at a Time!

The Erotica Readers and Writers Association (ERWA) had this to say:

To be honest, I only picked up this book to see what it was like with the intention of putting it down on my to be read pile and getting on with something else first. Two hours later I was finished and typing up the review with very sticky fingers! Too much information? You'd better get used to it if you want to read this book.

And Erotica Revealed thought it was a good read, too:

However, cast aside your assumptions and presuppositions about the “prohibited genre” and settle back into the sultry world of passion and punishment that Gwen Masters has created. One Breath At A Time is the simple story of what happens when boy meets girl. However, Gwen Masters is a gifted mistress of erotic storytelling and the simple idea of boy meets girl becomes something extremely powerful in her skilled and capable hands.

Why not get your own copy and see what all the fuss is about? Visit your favorite bookstore or get it online. To make things easier, here's the Amazon link.

Enjoy!