Today, I’m afraid, is about blatant self promotion. Well, blatant book promotion, at the very least. My latest title, my first new book release since last October, is hitting stands as we speak.

STRIPPED, an August release from Harlequin Blaze is a double-series whammy. First, it’s the second book in the “Bad Girls Club” miniseries, following last month’s release of TAKEN, by Tori Carrington and will be followed by Leslie Kelly’s OVEREXPOSED.

But the book is also the first in a series of books I’m doing for Harlequin revolving around the St. Lyon Witches. STRIPPED stars Lilith St. Lyon, a witch who has never quite grasped the concept of “doing the right thing.” She’s not a bad witch…she’s just a bad girl who isn’t opposed to using her psychic powers for personal gain, which is a big fat no-no in the witching world. Her sister, Regina, is the Guardian Witch (and will star in her own story, “Under His Spell” in the Witchy Business novella collection which will be out next month) therefore strips Lilith of her powers.

And her timing couldn’t be worse. Mac Mancusi, Lilith’s former lover and a Chicago cop, needs her help. She’s not so anxious to get tangled up with him again since he kicked her out of his life when he figured out she was using her powers to manipulate him, but she can’t seem to resist the pull of Mac’s sexy sensuality. So without hiding the fact that she no longer possesses the power of the Sight, Lilith sets out to help Mac solve his case, never realizing that her world and his are about to collide.

Sound interesting?

I know a lot of people love pararnormal books. I’ve always loved them. I wrote my first paranormal in the 90s, but it was never published. I wrote the first ever paranormal Blaze, UNDENIABLE, which was released in August of 2004. My paranormal novella, “Surrender” in the ESSENCE OF MIDNIGHT collection was a 2005 RITA finalist. Though I’m not much of a vampire girl, I do love ghosts, witches, gypsy curses and the like, as evidenced by my new series for Harlequin, as well as the Phantom series I’m writing for NAL.

I also know that many readers shy away from the paranormal. I hope if any of you are out there, if you like a really hot, super emotional love story, will give STRIPPED a chance. I made sure to buoy all the weirdness in a very real, very grounded world. Or at least, I tried! So far, reader email has been very positive.

Since my website update hasn’t gone as planned, here’s a short excerpt. Enjoy!

Clearly, she noticed the sensual intentions buried beneath his words. And happily, she didn’t seem to mind the innuendo.

“Okay,” she agreed, biting her bottom lip. “But first, you have to accept that no matter what Josie said downstairs, I can’t control you. Even if I had my powers, which I don’t, I could never make you feel something you didn’t want to feel or do something you didn’t want to do.”

He slid the bottle away. “You’re lying.”

She stood up straight, her shoulders squared and her hands ready to wrap into tight fists. “Excuse me?”

“I just meant,” he said, taking her hands in his and working out the tension with his fingers, “that whether you mean to or not, you’re continually making me feel things I don’t want to feel. Every minute we’re together, you make me do things I don’t want to do. We’re so different, Lilith. I’m only realizing now how far apart our worlds are. And yet, here I am, wanting you, not for just an hour or a night, but for–”

Her gasp silenced him.

His kiss squelched the sounds that followed.

As he’d fantasized, her mouth tasted like peppermint and smooth, Kentucky whiskey, served in a warm glass. Her skin, so soft beneath his touch at first, prickled as a shiver danced through her body. He pressed her close, her body flush against his. He longed to strip her bare, expose her, raw and willing, to his hungry eyes.

Before he could tear off her tank top, she pressed her hands flush against his chest and backed away.

“What?” he asked, the word tearing from his throat as if formed with jagged glass.

Her eyes glittered with what he suspected were wicked intentions. Very wicked intentions.

She reached out and ran her finger across his lips, slipping the tip inside for a split second to tease his tongue. “I made big mistakes with you before, Mac.”

He shook his head to clear the lusty fog clouding his ability to process her words.

“Yeah, you kept shit from me. I reacted badly. Apologized. It’s over.”

He reached out for her, but she dodged his grab.

“That’s not what I meant.” Her voice was husky, deep and hot. She sashayed a few steps away from him, her hips undulating in a dance he couldn’t help but follow. “I wanted you so desperately the first time we met, I changed who I was to please you, at least in the bedroom. I broke into your thoughts and stole your sexual fantasies, then made them reality.”

His mouth dried as the memories swamped him. He swallowed, attempting to replenish the moisture. When it didn’t work, he grabbed the bourbon and took a swig without the glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And the bad part of that was?”

She quirked an eyebrow, then slowly turned and strolled into the living room. His ears thrummed with the deep bass sounds of his heartbeat, suddenly in time with music about witchy women and their magical hold over their men.

Only she wasn’t in possession of her powers anymore, was she? This was all her. Real and unafraid to tempt him with the rock and roll of her sweetly curved backside and coy glances over her shoulder to see if he followed.

He marched into the room just as she draped herself across the couch.

“The bad part was,” she said, kicking off her sparkly sandals, “I never got any of my fantasies fulfilled.”

Her mouth quirked into a half grin, erasing any chastisement from her tone. The past was the past. They’d both made mistakes. If Mac had thought for one minute about wanting to fulfill Lilith’s fantasies, she would have read that in his mind and made sure it came to pass. Instead, he’d been having too much fun indulging his own preferences. He’d ignored hers.

Bastard.

He whipped his shirt over his head. “That’s criminal.”

She grinned, then curved her lips into an enticing pout. “That’s what I thought. What exactly do you think is justified punishment?”

He could think of quite a collection of ways he’d like to be punished, but this retribution wasn’t about him, was it? He removed his shoes and socks and, at her raised eyebrows, his slacks and boxers. Her appreciative grin worked like an aphrodisiac and his dick elongated tightly.

“Now this is a start,” she said, squirming in her seat.