Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Nibble on Lady Varney’s Risqué Business, A Regency Romp, out now from Cerise DeLand !


Lady Varney’s Risque Business is first in a collection of Regency Romps that I début this year!

When a proper lady of the ton takes on a new client in her risqué matchmaking business, she discovers that he has one decadent demand. Spend the night with him!

Lady Kitty Varney runs a discreet business to support herself and pay off her late husband's gambling debts. When Viscount Justin Belmont appears in her parlor, Kitty's latest client is the very man she was forbidden to marry years ago. Kitty questions if she can find Justin a woman worthy of him...and if she can bear to help him wed any other woman.

Then Justin lists his criteria for a wife and Kitty is shocked to learn she is among the few candidates suitable. He demands each candidate spend one night with him.

Can Kitty deny herself the chance to enjoy the charms of the man she's never forgotten? Lady Varney's risqué business might be her saving grace–but it may well become her undoing.

Your nibble of my newest cherry?

Here it is!

Excerpt, Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.

Kitty stiffened her backbone, but felt no stronger than a floundering mackerel. How she took the circular staircase down to her drawing room was a mystery, given her knees of jelly.

"Buck up, Puss," she chastised herself. She pulled open the double doors herself rather than call her butler and crowd the occasion with unnecessary others. She needed to look upon Justin Belmont at this particular moment alone.

And oh, my. Yes. To realize that the newly dubbed Viscount Belmont, American-born, Englishman by blood, nobleman now by adoption and the entail, was even more devastatingly handsome than a decade ago when the world seemed fresh and full of positive possibilities.

"My Lord Belmont." Kitty sailed toward him where he stood before her fireplace, her expression, she hoped, one of civility. My lord, how can you shake my sanity so easily with that harsh look? That painful curiosity in your hazel eyes?

Here before her stood the man who had saved her from lascivious Frenchmen more than a decade ago. Huge and imposing as Satan then, he was now more muscular, his face more angular, his hair more raven against skin more pale. In clothes that were better tailored and more form-fitting than the loose linen shirts that once had flowed to his fingertips, he was now the epitome of a titled English gentleman. He gave no hint of the American privateer who had captured her body with his boldness, her mind with his intellect and her heart with his artless charm.

She walked forward, her gaze up at his imperial height, her hand out for him to take.

He touched her fingertips, his own cold as the grave. "Lady Varney. Kind of you to receive me."

You don’t sound as though you think me kind. You sound…dismayed, appalled, even—dear god—disgusted that you are here.
"Please, my lord, do sit with me." She nodded to one settee, and as he complied, she took the one facing him. His eyes, such a myriad of earthen colors, faceted in the lamplight of late afternoon. They flowed over her hair, her lips, her breasts, her fingers. Everywhere his gaze touched, her body pulsed, remembering how once he had looked at her with desire. Not this…this indifference. That sparked her to lie with her next words, "I am delighted you have come to see me."

He did not even breathe as he said, "Are you now?"

"Of course," she countered his challenge, but stayed true to her manners by adding, "I have heard of your recent good fortune."

He cocked a long black brow. "When the news is published in the scandal sheets as well as the social notes, nothing in London is a secret."

She licked her lower lip. "Very little."

"But this service of yours," he said with measured tone as he circled a hand in the air to denote her business, "this is a tidbit only the men of the ton share with each other."

She hastened to agree. "Those who need help have found my—"

"Assistance? That is what you call your match-making, am I correct?" One corner of his mouth tipped up and she could not say if the move denoted humor or ruefulness. "Whatever your services, I need them."

His directness had her fighting for a response.

"I hear you pride yourself on your knowledge of human nature," he prodded her.

She lifted her chin. "Or to be exact, the nature of men."

He barked in laughter. "If you knew that, dearest woman, you and I would not be sitting here."

Should she show him the door? She bristled and sought to hold her ground, reprimand him, if she could. "You asked for this appointment, my lord."

"It seemed the only way to see you," he shot back.

"Perhaps I am mistaken, but I was under the impression that you requested a Sunday afternoon appointment because—"

"Because since my newfound status as a peer of the realm was announced in September, you have not invited me to any of your dinner parties."

"Forgive me, but you really wished an invitation to dinner?" Incredulous at that conclusion, she felt a thrill sweep up her spine that he might indeed not seek a wife. "I—I am only recently out of my year of mourning for my husband, Justin, and those who may dine at my table with me do not include bachelors."

"Especially bachelors whom you once knew? Ah, the rules of this blasted society!" He leaned forward, his gaze at once tender and yearning. "Kitty—"

"Please, sir, I am still Lady Varney to you."

"You never were that to me. Besides, you just called me Justin." His eyes twinkled.

"I did not!"

"Of course, you did." He sat back, crossed one long leg over the other and seemed too well satisfied with himself to soothe her ruffled senses.

"We are here to discuss business," she insisted with a hauteur that had him narrowing his gaze on her.

It was not a kindly glance, either, but the fierce glare he’d worn so long ago as he climbed over the sides of the French Cyr to rescue her from those bastards.

He blinked. Drew back and appraised her.
Good. At least we are now on firm footing. Two equals about to do business. Not two older people who had cared passionately for each other in their youth.

She tipped her head when he remained silent. "Please tell me what you wish."

He set his jaw, never having cared for anyone to give him orders. "As you know, I am to inherit the Earl of Belmont’s titles and estates. He is ailing. Sadly, I might add. I have come to care for my uncle deeply in the past six years. When I first set foot in England eleven years ago, I must say I had no idea he and I would ever get on. But we did. Do. Save for one issue."

Kitty nodded, knowing precisely the matter that divided them. Touchy subject though it was, she went on boldly, because that was her wont, because it was her business to be forthright and because she knew this man very well. Or once had. "He wants you to marry."

Justin seemed to retreat even further into himself. His jaw firmed. His lips thinned. His large eyes turned to glittering stones. "He wishes me to marry an heiress with title, high social standing and a suitable dowry. To put a fine point on it, he wants the perfect woman."

"The earl thinks appropriately. His titles are six hundred years old and his estates are numerous and bring in a sizeable sum each year."

Justin snorted. "My uncle was right about you."

Kitty felt what would come next would not be a compliment. "How so?"

"He declares there is not much you do not know about the peers of the realm, their income or their need for propriety."

"To learn the genealogies of the famous one hundred families was a favorite pastime for a lonely little girl."

His features softened to a genuine compassion that made her heart ache. "You were alone as a child?"

She swallowed, not wishing to remember her youth. "I do have one sister, younger by ten years. But our parents were preoccupied with society. Hence, the house was often cold and dark. But the library was a wonderful room, warm and full of enchanting tales. Not all of them were fiction."

His mouth spread wide in a grin and her memory of how those lips felt on her own was one she told herself could not be so fresh after more than a decade. Yet, it was.

She tipped her head, unable to suppress a smile. "Please tell me about the kind of woman you wish me to seek for you."

"Ah. Yes." He scowled, his glittering eyes hard as glass. "First, she must be lovely."

"Of course." No less for such a striking man. Besides, a plain woman would be intimidated by a husband who was so damned handsome.


"Blonde?" Hair color was often listed by a man, but not usually this early in the discussion.


She shifted. That specific? "I see."

"She must be a peer in her own right."
Kitty knit her brows, recalling how her own barony of writ had been the lure to Henry. "Why is this important?"

"Her own blue-blood complements my lack. Since I was born on the wrong side of the blanket, a lady in deed secures my own legitimacy."

Kitty’s mind was racing. How many single golden-haired ladies who were titled in their own right could she count? Four? Five?

"It also enhances the reputation of any of my offspring."

"True. I had not thought of that."

Looking innocent as a cherub, he lifted a palm. "You see my logic."

"Certainly." Dear god, a taskmaster. "What else might I add to her qualifications?" A huge dowry? That’s what the ton says the old Earl demands of you.

"She must be shorter than I. Talented at the piano forte. A good conversationalist."

"Really, how interesting." Her gaze wandered to her own French piano. She frowned and noted, "Most men would have asked that she be a wizard at cards."

He chuckled.

"Most bachelors," she ventured, "want to ensure they keep their money in the family."

"Oh, never doubt, my dear Kitty, that I have other requirements perhaps more astonishing than not caring about my future wife’s ability at the card table."
Oh, my. This was the point at which many men told her they wanted peculiar qualities in their spouse. She hadn’t expected any oddities from Justin. Would she be disillusioned as well as surprised? And even more jealous? "Do tell me what they are."

"I want someone versed in the art of conjugal bliss."

Was she gaping at him? "I’m sorry. I supposed, I mean, I presumed—"

"You thought I wanted a virgin?"

"I did. Most men do."

"Not I."

"Why ever not?" Was that her own shrill voice?

A grin flashed over his features. "I also want someone who has had a child."

"A—?" Kitty blinked, clearing her impression of this man who now seemed suddenly so calculating. "Pardon me?"

"I need an heir. I need to be assured that the woman I marry can conceive and carry a child to term, birth him well and rear him. This means she must be of good constitution. After all, I will need not one child but at least two. Preferably three."



Kitty could not believe her ears at his extraordinary list, but nodded and went on with the topic. "Raised by her, of course."

"I want no fainting lily. No frail Bess. And no parade of nurses and governesses."

"But surely, you need one," she babbled, " of each."

"Of course. One governess. One nurse. And one loving mother."

"I see." Kitty began to have a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that signaled either rage or a headache. Stress like this reminded her of verbal sparing with Henry who thankfully had gone to his Maker. The cure for that had been for her to run to her garden. Prune her roses. Trim her yews. At the moment, she could do neither, but deal with Justin and his demands. "You are being very specific."

"I am."

"Almost too much so."

"Why do you say that?"

She rose to her feet, the sensation of standing so quickly made her head light. Airy. Euphoria had her swaying. So unexpected was this feeling that she walked toward the fireplace and put a steadying hand to the mantel. "Let me recount your requirements."

He nodded as he sat in his chair, looking so infernally regal and congenial that she wanted to gather the fine lapels of his frockcoat in her fists and shake him. "Proceed."

"You want a young woman, an heiress with wealth—"

He raised a hand to make her pause. "She need not be young. Too young and she is not useful to me as a wife who can bear children."

"Quite. Shall we say that you want a seasoned woman? Yes?"

He nodded. "Go on."
"Blonde. Golden-haired, specifically. Shorter than you, so then she must be fivefeetfour or five inches tall. Good at the piano, in the assembly hall and the ballroom. Versed in the bedroom. A woman who has already borne a child and who wishes to bear more. She must also enjoy the process of raising them. Anything I have missed?"

He let his gaze drift up to her cap of golden curls, then down to lock on her eyes. "That is an excellent summary."

She braced herself for what she was now about to say. "I have made matches for men for a long time."

"Ever since you began to emerge from mourning for your husband."

She gave Justin a small smile. Realizing he knew this about her was a delight. "Yes, and I have created some very fine marriages. Though not all of my couples have yet taken vows, those five who did, are very happy."

Justin brushed imaginary lint from his trousers. "So I have heard."

"But these requirements you list are unusual."

"I am a very exacting man."

"You are. Your friends declare it. I hear your tailor does, too. Your butler."

"I shall have to reprimand my man for engaging in gossip," he told her but his eyes and his lips quirked in amusement.

She tipped her head, unable to resist grinning at him and learning more. "Your butler is a good friend of my cook. They talk often."

"To you as well, it seems."
"My sources are legion. They help me with the work I do." She raised her brows. "You must realize to matchmake I need to know many facts about people."

"A necessity of your occupation." He winked at her, sending her back to days on his ship when she’d been so entranced by his charm.

She cleared her throat and returned to the subject of his visit. "Your list limits me severely."

"I am aware of that."

"There are few women who possess all the qualifications."

He rose and came to stand before her.
So close now, she breathed his cologne. Smelled the mint on his breath. Admired the dimple in his left cheek and the facets of green and brown in his large heavylidded eyes. "In fact, there are only three women who meet all of your requirements."

"Ah. But wait, you have not heard them all."

"No? Preposterous! There is a very small pool of possible candidates, Justin. To add more requirements would be burdensome—"

"But my fortune will be very large. My homes, here and in the country, are grand estates. I will be married to this woman for many decades, and I need the best companion possible." He frowned, very determined looking. "I have the right to declare to whom I shall be joined!"

"Precisely so, my lord, but we must be prudent."

"You be prudent! I shall be as I am!"

His virulence shocked her.

"Your fees are high. I shall have whom I want! Who is best suited to me." He strode closer and seized her arms, his powerful body dwarfing hers. Once his might had been comforting, but now, full of fury, his size made her wince. She had been intimidated by her husband far too often and she would not be by any man ever again.

She stiffened her spine. "Tell me your other requirements."

"She must spend twenty-four hours with me at Belmont Manor."

"Oh, I see." She let out a breath, relieved. "You want her to visit."

"No, I want her in my bed."

Kitty blinked. "I...I’m sorry. You want her—?"

"Naked. I want to learn if she likes men. Me, to be exact."
Out now at Amazon Nook and soon on KOBO, ARe and iTunes


An author acclaimed for her eloquence and scintillating tales of romance and suspense, Cerise DeLand writes historical and contemporary novels with spice and charm.

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Saturday, April 5, 2014

My Fan Girl Moment

So I had a huge fan girl moment last night. Although I have been published now for a few years there are still authors that to me remain the pinnacle of what I hope to one day be.

Last night I found this when I was looking on Amazon.
To have my book The Duke and the Virgin in the same page, if only for a couple minutes, with one of my top three authors Stephanie Laurens was a moment of awesomeness. :)
Just had to share.
Now Available


Friday, April 4, 2014

The Duke and the Virgin NEW RELEASE

So I finally worked up the courage to write a historical. So it might be short but its a step in that direction.  Please check out my 1st historical and my 2nd 1Night Stand.

The Duke and the Virgin
Part of the 1 Night Stand series at Decadent Publishing

Now Available
In a time when women have few options for their futures, bluestocking wallflower Llysa Hamilton has aged out of the marriage mart. With offers for her hand unlikely, she enlists Madame Eve’s 1Night Stand service to find the perfect man for one passionate night.

Wolfe Thane, Duke of Foxhaven, has never lacked for anything, but he’s bored with his entitled life. Winning a 1Night Stand voucher in a poker game appears to offer a perfect, commitment-free opportunity to add spice to his sex life.

Hiding behind a mask during her date with the duke offers Llysa anonymity and courage. Wolfe has never met a woman as intriguing and disingenuous.

Can true love be unmasked in just one night or will it be destined to stay on the shelf?
“Don’t get scared now.” His voice, oh, that voice, did strange and wonderful things to her insides.

“I’m not scared.”

“Good, because I want to see what is hiding under all these layers.” Warm lips touched the hollow spot under her jaw, distracting her and, until he eased her gown over her shoulder and it fell to the floor, she’d been unaware he’d undone her lacings.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited. She stood in front of a man in her undergarments for the first time, and the nerves had begun. Not enough to have her running for the door, but enough to worry he would be less than pleased with what he saw.

“Have you ever seen Russian nesting dolls?”

Thrown by the questions, she opened her eyes. Why would he suddenly speak about a child’s toy? “I own a few of them.”

“Then you must understand that undressing you is like playing with one of those dolls. I open one to find another beneath it. I took away your gown to find you are still as clothed as you were a moment ago and I wonder how many more layers I will have to work through to get down to you—the doll I’m searching for.”


He smiled and her stomach did somersaults. “Just two?”

“Well, three, if you count the corset.”

“Oh, then we must count the corset as a layer.” He spun her and shivers ran the length of her spine as the ties holding her stays relaxed. “What is going on deep within you now?”


“Fair enough,” he whispered near her ear.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Character Interview with Arlo from the Novel Sinful Surrender

I am thrilled to welcome Arlo from the Novel Sinful Surrender
by Houston Havens

Tell us a little something about yourself and your brothers?


When I’m not in a battle with the Dirt Dwellers I like hanging out at the Blade’s Saloon. Lots of interesting people go through there, Star Riders, New and Old World moles. You see and hear lot. As well, I like to entertain the crowed with my music, my songs, and my poetry. I like people. I like to make them ‘feel’.

Logan’s my oldest brother, I’m sure you know he’s the leader of our people. He’s a home-body. He rarely leaves the premises except to go to battle. He works too much and forgets to ‘have fun’.

I believe you’ve got to balance life whenever you can. A man has to find time for the sweeter things in life.

Logan’s too serious. Drakker’s not as bad, but he too forgets to have fun … you can’t call his kinkiness in the bedroom ‘fun’ I don’t know what the hell that’s all about. I ain’t down with that kind of stuff; bondage, spankings, and dominating my woman. I love to pamper and romance women. I love to make women smile with poems, flowers, and love songs. I like seeing a woman’s eyes light up with affection. There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman who is cherished by her men.

I’d love to have that one-day … a wife to cherish, but I don’t see it happening. I care about my brothers, but I don’t think there’s a woman diversified enough to accommodate Drakker’s freakiness in the bedroom, Logan’s need to stay emotionally detached from everyone. Me? Now I’d make the perfect husband. 


What do you love most about Fay?


Oh, you’ve heard about the female spy hum? Yeah, she’s beautiful, funny, and smart. She’s also very sexy. I don’t think there’s one thing I love ‘most’ about her. I’m just totally into this woman, and no, I’m not jumping the gun. The minute I saw her, bloody nose and all, I fell in love with her. It’s fate. Just like I told Logan, its true love I feel for Fay. I can’t explain it. It’s just my destiny talking, telling me Fay’s the one.

Only problem is, she’s a Dirt Dweller. They have a monogamous society so I hold little hope she would ever accept or understand our polyandrous world. (He sighs) Besides … look who I’m stuck offer as her second and third husband; moody Logan and freaky Drakker. See, this is what I’m saying, I’ll never find a wife.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers but the death of our parents left scars on them that they’ve never emotionally dealt with. Instead, they denied the pain and refused to deal with it. Then Drakker got involved in BDSM. I believe he’s subconsciously trying to work through his inner pain through all that weird stuff. And I found out last night, during Fay’s interrogation, Logan’s into voyeurism. (Raises his hands up in surrender) Now will you tell me how that’s going to help him connect to a woman on an emotional level? Come on, man!


Why do the Dirk Dwellers keep attacking you?


I don’t know. Logan’s the history guy. He could tell you why. All I know is that they’re trying to emerge back to the surface of the Earth. I’m told they once lived here with the rest of us. But at some point in history they stole all the people’s gold through heavy government taxes and lied to our ancestors while misdirected the funds to building their Underworld. The governments lied to their people as they manipulated the weather into catastrophic storms, droughts, and earthquakes through the use of their HAARP machines. They used Torsion Fields and Orgone devices to control the emotions of humans. Turning innocent people into spontaneous killers, who’d go to a public place and start shooting as many people as they could, and then kill themselves. How convenient, no? No messy trials for the truth to come out. I heard the governments use drugs, and Orgone waves in the atmosphere to make the majority of the population depressed about life in general and by collapsing the economy it feed into that despair. Making it easier to turn most into being followers…sheeps to the slaughterhouses of government ‘emergency shelters’. And then they put their genocide attack plan into affect through chemtrails, man created flu’s passed to the people through free flu shots, contaminated foods, land, and water. But, enough of our people survived … much to the Dirt Dwellers’ disappointment. Now, once again, they want to kill everyone above ground off before they return to a pure surface to start again.


What are 3 things you'd never leave home without?


Doesn’t matter if it’s for battle or personal outings, I always take my journal with me. My weapon and a medicine pouch my father wore when he was alive.


How difficult is it to share your woman with 2 other men?


I don’t have a problem sharing with my brothers, the problem is what normal woman wants the kind of crazy sex Drakker’s in to. And Logan, well he’s more normal in that department, but … I don’t know, I worry about my brothers.


How do you make it work?


Well so far I haven’t. That’s why I’m still looking for a wife…and most likely won’t ever find one because of my two crazy brothers.


You only have an hour to seduce Fay before you have to get back to work, describe how you’d do it?


Work? You mean go back into battle don’t you? Well, I admit, I’m in love with her. I know she’s a spy but my love can change that. I know she feels the same for me. It happened the moment our eyes met. Our souls reached out to each other, merging into one.

I’d scoop her into my arms and hold her tightly against me. Kissing her sweet lips while confessing my undying love for her. I’d caress every inch of flesh on her and with each idolizing touch I’d tell her why I love her. The moment she weakened into my embrace I’d … well, I don’t kiss and tell …so I draw the drapes here. (Winks)


How do you balance your personal life with fighting for your world and your people?


You don’t. There’s no way to balance the atrocities of war with normal life, but we fight for the rights of our people. Our rights to be free. Our rights to be alive. Our rights to be healthy and live in peace. This is the only way to keep fighting. To remember what our forefathers fought and gave their lives for … FREEDOM.


Quickie Time


Best feature on a woman?

I’d say breasts.

Sweet and slow or hard and fast?

Oh, has to be Sweet and slow.

Handcuffs or ties?

Come on now, did Drakker tell you to ask me that? Are you crazy? Neither!

What are you hiding in your bedside table?

An egg shaped rock that belonged to my mother. It’s said to hold the power of a Druid. With it I found a minute red hat … you know … like they say winged-faeries wore.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

I love oral sex. I love the taste of a woman.

What’s your secret talent?

Pleasuring a woman

Boxers, Briefs or Commando?

Top psychic spy Fay Avalon saw too much on her latest mind traveling mission and is now on the run from her post-catastrophic dystopian government, searching for the truth and proof. She escapes but is shot down, landing in the arms of the enemy.
In Drakker and Arlo’s world, women are so rare the men have accepted a polyandrous lifestyle. When the brothers stumble upon Fay unconscious in the wreckage of an aircraft, they are immediately attracted to her. Arlo wants to keep her, but Drakker knows they can’t. They must take her to their brother Logan Abán, leader of their people.
Logan struggles with trusting anyone, even himself. When a beautiful, intelligent, and intriguing woman falls into their laps, his denied desires for intimacy challenge his need to trust the spy. He’s frustrated by romantic Arlo’s claims of her innocence. Even when pragmatic and dominating Drakker defends her as well, Logan refuses to trust his gut.
Can one woman satisfy the diverse desires of three men? Will Logan’s fears be realized by betrayal? Is Fay to be sentenced to death as a spy, suffer a fate worse than death by being returned to her government as a traitor, or will she find a new life and love as the wife of three sexy brothers?

Author Bio
Erotic romance author Houston Havens, a former successful model enjoying an adventurous jet-set lifestyle, intrigues her readers with a mix of the past, present, and future, and sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, and western romance, always with love everlasting. A tenacious Irish lass filled with passion and mystery hopes her sultry stories will entertain and fascinate those who dare to take the journey. She’s also a social media junkie with an award winning blog.
Get your copy At Amazon



Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Finally...The END

So its seems to have taken forever but I finally wrote those lovely words the end on Spencer's Chance.  That's not to say I am done with it. I have to edit it then beta it before Submitting it then there are the three rounds of edits, line edits and galleys. But the book is written.

I am going out to celebrate.