A Wonderful Birthday GIft!

I can FINALLY reveal the cover for my upcoming romantic suspence release from Entangled Publishing's Entangled Suspense line! You have no idea how I've been dy-ing to show it!

Secrets and Sins: Gabriel is the first book in a four-book series from Entangled Suspense, and I have to admit...I am in love with this book. It's a "first" for me in a couple of ways. It's my first book that isn't erotic. It's sensual, definitely, but less, uh, explicit than my previous books.
But the emotion, the tragic hero and strong, independent heroine and secondary characters I fell in love with maek up for the naughty words I had to dial back on. :D


Also, it's my first true, bona-fide romantic suspense. I've had books with suspense elements, but Gabriel has a strong suspense plot running alongside the beautiful, romance. I'm so excited about its release! And did I mention the release date is on my birthday? Yes! June 24th! What an awesome birthday gift! *hint! hint! nudge! nudge!*

Blurb
Twenty years ago, Leah Bannon’s beloved Uncle Richard vanished without a trace. Leah, now a private investigator, begins to suspect it was murder. When she reopens the cold case, Gabriel Devlin—-the man she loves but can never have—-inexplicably stands in her way.

Only four people know the truth about Richard’s mysterious disappearance—-Gabriel and three childhood friends...who have all sworn to take that secret to the grave. But a hidden enemy wants those shocking secrets brought to light...even if he has to kill to make it happen.

After experiencing an unimaginable loss two years ago, Gabriel refuses to put himself through the pain of loving someone who could be gone in an instant. But as he thwarts Leah’s investigation at every turn—-both to keep his friends’ pact, and to keep her safe from danger—-the sexy PI makes it impossible for him to protect his secrets. Or his heart...
 
Secrets and Sins: Gabriel is available for pre-order at Amazon and Barnes and Noble!

New Release! STOP OR I'LL SPANK!

So excited about my new release STOP OR I'LL SPANK, the sequel to my hot sexy Bestselling suspense THE GIRL WHO CRIED WOLF! It picks up where that book left off, featuring no-nonsense cop Dylan Sinclair and his girlfriend Brynn Foster!

In this sequel to THE GIRL WHO CRIED WOLF, Brynn Foster decides to stick her nose into the murder case her boyfriend, San Francisco Police Inspector Dylan Sinclair is investigating.

Dylan shouldn’t be surprised. Brynn is always getting into trouble for doing things she shouldn’t. Whether it’s for inviting Dylan’s sister and her boyfriend over to dinner without telling him, or for painting the living room a color she knows he won’t like, she does what she wants, even if she ends up over his knee for a sound spanking.

But this investigation is more dangerous than redecorating their apartment. A man is dead, and if she isn’t careful, a spanking is going to be the least of her troubles.


Excerpt:

By the time Kat and Reese left, Brynn was congratulating herself on how well the evening had gone. Not only were Dylan and his sister back on good terms, but the cold war between the two men was finally over. She didn’t know what had transpired while she and Kat had been in the kitchen getting dessert, and she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, it was all good.

But when she closed the door behind the other couple and turned to face her boyfriend, Dylan was standing there with his arms folded across his broad chest and a scowl on his handsome face. He wasn’t seriously going to be mad at her for inviting Kat and Reese over, was he?

Brynn sighed. “I know what you’re going to say.”

He arched a brow. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re going to say I shouldn’t have invited Kat and Reese over for dinner without telling you first.”

“A little heads-up would have been nice.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” She sidled over to loop her arms around his neck. When he didn’t wrap his around her, she gave him a pout. “Honey, if I told you I wanted to invite them to dinner, you would have said no.”

“You’re right. I probably would have. But you still should have asked me.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a contrite look. “I said I was sorry.”

His green eyes deepened in color, becoming more emerald. “And I forgive you. But I’m still going to make sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

Pull a stunt like that again? What was she, twelve? Brynn laughed. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

His mouth quirked. “I’m going to spank you.”

Brynn’s eyes went wide. Was he for real?

She opened her mouth to ask, but Dylan had already sat down on the couch and was guiding her over his knee. She placed her hands on the carpeted floor to get her balance, but she needn’t have worried. Dylan’s strong hand on her back kept her from going anywhere, including pushing herself up from his lap.

She craned her neck to look over her shoulder at him. “Honey, seriously?”

“Seriously. A good spanking will make you think twice before you do something like this again.”

Brynn blinked. Dylan had spanked her a lot of times, but it had always been sexual. He’d never done it to punish her. That was completely different, and she wasn’t sure what she thought of it. Before she could protest, her boyfriend brought his hand down on her upturned ass with a resounding smack.


Buy it at Blushing Books!
http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=484


Buy it at Amazon!
http://www.amazon.com/Stop-or-Ill-Spank-ebook/dp/B00CK0YRAC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1367113065&sr=1-1&keywords=Paige+Tyler+Stop+Or+I%27ll+Spank


*hugs*
Paige

Sexy Romantic Fiction!

http://www.paigetylertheauthor.com
http://paigetylertheauthor.blogspot.com

You're Still You

Each book I write is special in its own way. The characters become people I love, like, or love to hate, depending on their role. If that didn't happen, I couldn't write a convincing love story.

Today, I'm going to leave you with my favorite scene from Winters' Thaw. Why today? Because this whole story on Angelina Jolie having a double mastectomy generated a wonderful conversation with Stud, just as Ms. Jolie intended by opening up and telling her personal decision. Every woman should have that conversation with herself and/or her significant other. Whatever it takes.

I'm not saying that the following scene compares to having a mastectomy. I'm saying that if someone loves you, it's not going to matter whether those breasts are a perfect 34C, sag, have scars, or have gone through cancer and its aftermath, including removal. You're still you.

Winters' Thaw

by Dalton Diaz

Amazon Kindle

Amazon Print

Excerpt:
Kevin needed to regroup. He had friends he’d met in college who didn’t know about his parents and he’d met Elle a week ago. What the hell?

He should be running for the door.

Fuck that. Less than an hour ago he’d come twice in her amazing mouth, yet he was ready, willing and able to come again. They were sitting in their underwear. He should be stripping off that underwear and coming inside her anywhere she’d let him enter, not spilling his guts.

If he did either of those things, he’d never learn her secrets. There was still that hesitation he hadn’t been able to put his finger on and he’d bet his prized Ibanez bass that it was every bit as deep and personal as what he’d told her.

It was a piece of her puzzle he craved.

He took her hand, surprised to find how comforting it was. Those caramel brown eyes of hers, filled with curiosity and genuine concern, had already pulled at him to say more than he’d intended. Even though she did understand, it was all old news. He’d found his own way after college, hooking up with the right therapist at the right time. It had taken a while but he’d laid his anger to rest. It was what it was.

“You sure you wouldn’t like to lose the bra first? I could be easily distracted before you open yourself up to everything, right down to your first make-out session.”

“Nice try. Wayne Collins when I was about eight. He was a couple of years older and we were neighbors. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I told him that it was wet and gross. For some reason he never kissed me again. That counts as your first question, by the way.”

Kevin couldn’t help laughing, only to be instantly captivated by her return smile. What the hell were they doing talking about this crap when they could be indulging in their own make-out session?

“Seriously? Eight years old?” He leaned forward to kiss her before swiping his tongue across her closed lips. “His loss. He should have waited a few years when wet could be hot.”

Her murmur of agreement, which parted her lips, was all the encouragement he needed. Within seconds he was the one with his tongue in her mouth and she wasn’t complaining.

But she did hesitate when he tried to unclasp her bra.

She tried to hide it right away but he sat back, not willing to let her get away with it this time. Forcing herself to do something she didn’t want to do was a distinct no in his book.

“Elle?” He used his finger to trace the lacy edging at her cleavage until she opened her eyes to look at him. “Question two. Why are you so afraid to lose the bra?”

*****

Okay, she could do this.

“I’m not afraid, exactly,” Elizabeth said. “I just know I’m…different from what you’re used to.”

Kevin’s eyes dropped to her chest and he stared as though he had X-ray vision. “Do you have an extra nipple or something?”

If anything, he looked more intrigued. “That’s not as uncommon as you think but no.”

“Do you have nipples? I mean, the bumps I see could be stick-on.”

Great. Now he was just messing with her, which oddly gave her more courage to set him straight.
“Eyes up here, bud. There are two of everything and only two of everything. I’m talking about gravity. I’m not only older than you’re used to, I’ve nursed two kids.”

“If you’d had three, that extra nipple would have been useful.”

“Kevin!”

“What do you want me to say?” He caught his finger in the front clasp of her bra and gave a little tug.

“I like real breasts. Doesn’t matter what size, what shape, pierced or not pierced. I’ve dated women with implants and I don’t find it attractive.”

She wasn’t buying it for a minute. “Isn’t that every man’s fantasy? Legs to the armpits and breasts to the eyebrows?”

“Are we still on the blunt honesty kick?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“I slept with one of them and it was like trying to balance on two handballs. I don’t think it was all that comfortable for her either. The sex was okay but there wasn’t a repeat.” He traced the swells of her breast with the back of his finger. “A woman’s skin is so soft. I like to feel as much of it against me as I can.”

It would have been better not to laugh at that moment but she couldn’t help it. All she could see was
Phil fruitlessly thrusting away at Tanya, only to be bounced off like a trampoline. Hey, maybe that was how she’d sprung a leak!

“Did I say something wrong?” Kevin asked.

“No, the complete opposite,” she assured him. “Thank you. You have no idea.”

His fingers came to rest on the clasp again. “So enlighten me.”

She focused on the pulse point in his neck and nodded. What was it Rachel had said on the blog? “Take a deep breath, throw back your shoulders and go for it.”

There was a quick tug and the sides relaxed. She felt his fingers grasp the edges and peel the cups away.

A heartbeat later the tip of his finger traced her nipple. “Definitely not stick on,” he confirmed. “Elle, you’re beautiful.”

It was hard not to believe him. His voice was deeper, raspier and his finger wasn’t one hundred percent steady. She slowly raised her eyes to find him looking not at her breasts but at her face.

“I have stretch marks,” she choked out the words. It shouldn’t matter but dammit it did! This man had never seen her breasts before gravity took its inevitable toll, hadn’t shared in the joyous reason she had stretch marks.

“I see them,” he dropped his gaze and trailed his finger along a particularly deep one. “You’re beautiful,” he repeated.

Freebies!

One of the more onerous promotional opportunities for authors is creating free reads, usually short pieces of fiction designed to introduce readers to our style, or possibly present a teaser for a series. Just in case you're interested, I have two. One is with Ellora's Cave, a very short paranormal romance called  Sporting Wood. The other is a novella in the Gaslight Chronicles steampunk romance with a moderate heat level, from Carina Press.

If either of those genres appeals to you, I encourage you to try one of my free reads and see if my style is to your taste. Both of these books are available from Amazon, All Romance e-Books, and Barnes & Noble, as well as other e-tailers and the publisher's site.

Sporting Wood
erotic Paranormal Romance
from Ellora's Cave

http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8601-50-sporting-wood.aspx

Blurb: What happens when a werewolf and a dryad meet in the forest at night? For Cooper and Kyla, the result is smoldering hot passion beyond anything they’ve ever known. Even though there’s no real future for a botany professor and a nymph who lives in a tree, Coop keeps returning, night after night, for the steamiest sex of his life. When their fiery passion turns to love, it seems hopeless, unless a determined Kyla can find a way to keep her man.

Excerpt: (PG-13)

Coop trotted along in wolf form through the wooded grove. To a human, this area deep in the heart of the Olympic Peninsula’s temperate rain forest would seem impenetrably dark, but to his senses it was awash in the silvery light of the full moon. He’d never ventured this far into the forest before, but he knew he’d be back. There was something elementally soothing about this grove—as if it had never been touched by the hand of man. All the tension of his day slipped away, even more so than it always did when he was able to shift and run through the moonlight. Here in the forest, he wasn’t Professor Marceski, constantly worried about maintaining his grant funding or getting that next paper published, and he wasn’t even Cooper, the werewolf. He just was. 


He paused beside a particularly stunning red alder tree and lifted his leg.

“Don’t even think about it, Fido.”

That gave Cooper pause. He stood there, leg cocked, and studied the tree. Had it actually spoken to him, or was he more stressed-out than he’d realized after just finishing up his tenure approval?

“You heard me. Shoo. Go piss on somebody else.”

He yipped softly back, tipping his head from side to side.

“I know what you are. If you want to talk to me, fine, just project your thoughts, dummy. But first, go over in the bushes and relieve yourself. Don’t get any of that nasty stuff on my bark.”

The voice was decidedly feminine, if a little bit on the snarky side. Now that he thought about it, he could tell it was inside his head, not something he was hearing through his ears. Huh. Trees that could talk? While his scientific brain was processing the possibilities, he walked over to some huckleberry shrubs and took care of business. Then he went back and sat down in front of the alder tree.

What are you? Trees couldn’t talk. He was a botanist, damn it. He knew that.

A tree, you moron. You are a little slow, aren’t you?

The scruff of Coop’s neck stood up. He was considered a genius in scientific circles. He’d almost perfected a vaccine against Dutch elm disease, a breakthrough that could save thousands if not millions of trees a year. He was not a moron.

Really? Then why are you sitting on your butt, talking to a tree?

Photographs & Phantoms

A Gaslight Chronicles Novella

Available as a Free Download from Carina Press

Click here to for more information.

Blurb: Brighton, 1855

As a member of the Order of the Round Table, Kendall Lake is overqualified to b
e investigating strange phenomena at a seaside photography studio. But since the photographer is related to the Order’s most powerful sorcerer, Kendall reluctantly boards a dirigible to Brighton.

Amy Deland is haunted by a shadow that appears in some of her recent portraits. In each case, the subject died within days of the sitting. Does she have her grandmother’s gift of foresight, or has she somehow caused the deaths?

As Kendall and Amy search for answers, their investigation draws them together in a most improper way. But it seems the evil presence in the studio is determined to keep them apart…

Excerpt (PG):

They wove among the tourists and barrows and tents. “Sergeant Peterson built me a steam barrow to carry my equipment and a small canopy. It even has feet rather than wheels to accommodate the steps.”

“Very thoughtful of him.” Kendall’s tone was utterly neutral. “Are you and the sergeant…an item, perhaps?”

“What? No, of course not.” While Michael Peterson was a nice enough young man, and relatively attractive despite his missing arm, he was far too…traditional for Amy’s taste. He’d hinted in that direction a time or two, but she knew he’d never tolerate a wife or even a lady friend with a profession of her own. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just something in his demeanor. Whether you believe so or not, the man has a definite interest in you, Amy.”

“I’ve never given him any reason to. I’m not looking for a husband—or a lover, for that matter. Certainly not unless I find one who understands my need to work.”

“Your photography is a part of you—not just the way you make your living—is that what you mean?” He spoke as if he actually understood. “I’ve a cousin who’s a concert pianist. She feels much the same way. Her husband has learned to cope, so I imagine there are other males out there who can adapt.”

“If you happen across one, send him to Brighton,” she replied. “But I’m not going to hold my breath. I’m happy with my life the way it is.” Except—in the last few hours, she’d realized there were parts of the male-female relationship she wouldn’t mind exploring further. Kendall Lake did something funny to her insides in a way no other man ever had. He made her think of things, wish for things, that could certainly never be. He was a marquess, for heaven’s sake, and the heir to a dukedom. No good could come of imagining herself in his arms, his lips upon hers.