Hi everyone–
Today i’m delighted to welcome author Rosanna Leo to the blog. Rosanna is introducing us to her novel, Sweet Hell, and when you see the cover you’ll be drooling just like me. Plus, Rosanna is giving away a copy of the book to one lucky commenter. So please leave your comment AND your EMAIL address. Okay? Now i’m turning it over to Rosanna.
MY PERFECT PARANORMAL MAN
I write a lot of paranormal romance. It’s my first love, if you don’t count young Bruce Martin from my grade three class. That’s another story. From the time I could read, I gravitated to dark tales of star-crossed lovers, ghostly apparitions and fantastical creatures. Shortly afterward, I began to “fall in love” with paranormal heroes.
I suppose my first was Aslan the lion from the Narnia Chronicles. I know, I know, not exactly erotica material, but can you imagine if he were a shifter? OMG, I’m getting tingles just thinking about it.
Very soon after, I discovered Dracula. Even though I never considered Bram Stoker’s creation to be sexy, he whet my appetite for vampire lit. In high school, I discovered Anne Rice’s Lestat and Louis and was forever changed. They got my fifteen-year-old heart pumping! Indeed, if I’d met them, they might have shut my heart down altogether.
Now, my ideal hero is a supernatural one. Not that I have a problem with the other dudes. In fact, I wrote a gorgeous firefighter story not long ago, and am still partial to men in uniform, cowboys and more regular Joes.
However, a paranormal hero makes my heart race every time. If I could create the idea paranormal man, and be allowed any trait I wish for him, I’d go bonkers with delight. What would he be like?
He’d have the effortless magnetism of a vampire. The sort of man whose eyes are so penetrating that he makes you long for other types of penetration. Brooding, mysterious eyes that call to you and enslave you with a glance.
He’d have the strength of a werewolf, with massive arms to enfold me. A huge chest in which I could get lost. And he’d be very territorial…over me.
My hero would possess unique abilities like a Greek god. He’d be able to fly me away to his sanctuary on Olympus, a breathtaking haven in which our only responsibility was to make love for weeks on end.
Oh, and he’d be drop-dead gorgeous, would love me more than life itself (or his former life anyway), and would live to pleasure me in all sorts of naughty ways.
(Sigh.) I ask for so little.
Dionysus, Greek god of wine and theater, is the world’s original playboy. But lately, he has been restless, moody, and he knows something is wrong. His carefree and bacchanal lifestyle is starting to feel like one long string of meaningless, sexual escapades. Even worse, he is suddenly aroused by the idea of marriage. And to top it all off, Josie Marino, the mouthy, dishevelled, and eternally annoying woman who serves him coffee at the local bakery, sets him on fire.
Josie, a Torontobaker of Italian heritage, is not looking for love or lust. Especially not with Dionysus Iros, the most aggravating, demanding customer she’d ever had to serve. With his rippling muscles and sexy, knowing eyes, he’s obviously trouble with a capital T. Unfortunately, he’s also the star of her every X-rated dream. She’s known players like Dionysus before, and one of them almost got the better of her. Josie determines she will not fall for his considerable physical charms, come hell or high water.
But Dionysus turns strangely protective when a sinister character arrives at Josie’s bakery, and they can no longer deny their unwanted feelings for one another. They are forced to embark on a bizarre, sexually-charged journey to hell itself, which threatens to either change them for the better, or destroy them.
SWEET HELL EXCERPT:
There were usually two men Josie Marino had contact with at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. Not good contact. Certainly not sweaty, chest-heaving, “take me, take me” contact. And definitely not contact with Petter, the Norwegian male model who lived next door.
Nah. That would have been too perfect, wouldn’t it?
Instead, most mornings, Josie had to settle for haggling with her two least favorite men on the planet. Nelson Tate, the deliveryman from her most important supplier. And Dionysus Iros. Worst. Customer. Ever.
Because of the business, she just had to put up with Nelson. He’d been delivering dry goods to her family bakery for years. Had known her parents, schmoozed with her brothers, and basically enjoyed making life hell for her. Not that he was a vicious sort. He was just far too handsy for her liking.
In the case of Dionysus, he was just an early bird and a womanizer. And couldn’t function without the coffee she brewed first thing in the morning. Invariably, he was already waiting for her when she got to the bakery each day.
Not that he was a horrible person either. He just intimidated her with his unearthly good looks. Men like him, not that most men came close to looking like him, rattled her. They were best kept at a distance.
Dionysus was so bloody perfect; Josie wanted to shake him to see if she could muss his seemingly unmussable hair. Most days, though, she just contented herself with a lot of grumbling in his presence. He unnerved her, with his sexy brown eyes and long, dark waves of hair any woman would die for. To say nothing of his body… No, it was best not to say anything about that smoking body at all. She couldn’t help hating him, just a little. No man should look so divine at dawn, when she felt about as put together as a cavewoman.
To makes things worse, the man acted as if he were a Greek god. His parents, in a tragic case of bad judgment, had even named him after one. It was no wonder he was so obnoxious.
On this morning, too, he was waiting at the door when she got there. Looking as if he’d just tumbled off the cover of GQ, and the birds weren’t even up yet. At least today he didn’t have a sleepy bimbo on his arm, like he often did.
“Mr. Iros,” Josie drawled, yawning, as she unlatched the bakery door. “You’re losing your touch. I haven’t seen you with a woman in, what, forty-eight hours?” She pushed ahead of him into the bakery, catching the scent of wine on him.
God, how much did the man drink? She was sure he dabbed a little bit of the stuff behind his ears, and splashed it on his face instead of aftershave.
On any other man, the strange cologne would have been a red flag. An indication he drank more than coffee in the morning. But on this man, it just smelled delicious. As if the scent were his pheromone, oozing out of every pore, inviting her to mate with him. In very dirty ways.
He chuckled, low and deep, and sauntered in after her as if he owned the place. Within seconds, he was seated at his usual spot at Josie’s counter. “Just be a good girl and fetch my coffee.” He lowered his shades and peered at her through sensuous dark eyes that should have been bloodshot at that time of the morning, but weren’t. “And don’t forget. Make it a tall, half-skinny, half-one percent, extra hot, two shots decaf, two shots regular latte with whip. And exactly…”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted. “One hundred fifty degrees. Has it ever been anything less, Your Highness?” She pasted on her sweetest of smiles and turned to prepare the elixir of the gods. She heard him huff as he flipped open the day’s newspaper.
“No need to call me that, Josie. ‘My Lord’ or ‘He From Whom All Good Things Come’ will do just fine.”
She reached for the one percent milk, and contemplated tossing in some heavy, artery-clogging cream just to soften up some of his sculpted muscles. A man with that kind of body had to be on some sort of special diet.
With that brawny physique he must spend hours a day at the gym and ingest copious amounts of protein powders.
She snuck a peek at the bulges rippling under his sleeves, turning her head sharply when he grinned.
It was one thing to look like God’s gift to women. It was another thing to act like it.
I am a married mom of two wonderful boys who has been obsessed with romance literature ever since I read Jane Eyre in grade six. Since then, I have been a sucker for a roguish smile, a knowing eye and an alpha male!
I grew up in Toronto, Canada and still live nearby. I write every chance I get, and my head is filled with stories of Greek gods, vampires, and ethereally beautiful creatures. I tried getting to Narnia through my bedroom closet when I was a kid, but that didn’t work, so I started writing novels.
I am absolutely thrilled that Liquid Silver Books has picked up my first four novels, and look forward to submitting many more. You can reach my fabulous publisher at www.liquidsilverbooks.com
Join me on this romantic adventure!
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Thank you, Rosanna. Alright everyone, don’t forget to leave a comment with your email to win your own paranormal hero! And remember, i love blog followers! : )
