Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Mad, Bad & Dangerous: unleashed today!

Oh yes! Mad, Bad & Dangerous is released--unleashed, one might say--from Ellora's Cave today! As detailed below (and elsewhere, all over the interweb), this book wasn't particularly easy. In fact it was a difficult child. If it was an animal, it would be the Demon Puppy. I named it Mad, Bad & Dangerous not just because of the characters and plot, but also because that's how it felt to work on.

With that in mind, how about a giveaway? Oh yes, why not try the madness, badness, and danger out for yourself?

Here's what you do. You read the excerpt below (This is entirely optional and has no bearing on the contest; I just like getting people to read my stuff). Then you leave a comment on this blog post telling me the most mad, bad and dangerous thing you've ever done. Or, if you haven't done anything that qualifies, tell me the maddest, baddest and dangerous thing you'd like to do (since this part is theoretical, it doesn't even have to be legal).

At the end of the week I'll pick my favourite and send you an ebook of Mad, Bad & Dangerous. How's that?

Please be aware, this book is an erotic romance. It contains content that is unsuitable for readers under eighteen and may be considered offensive to those of a sensitive disposition.

Excerpt from Mad, Bad & Dangerous:

Kett’s rational brain knew there was no way in hell she was waking up chained to a naked hottie, hanging from the roof of a cave by her wrist. Her rational brain told her it must be a dream.
Her rational brain was usually wrong.
“Hey.” The hottie’s voice sounded very close to her ear. “Wake up.”
She decided not to. His body was all warm and hard. And naked. And hot. And naked. All in all, a pretty nice dream, apart from the screaming pain in her right arm. She’d have to work on getting rid of that.
“Wake up,” he insisted, his voice all warm and husky. Then he paused. “Are you even alive?”
“I’m asleep,” she mumbled, snuggling a little closer. The bedclothes were trapping her other arm behind her back. “G’way.”
“You know, I’d love to,” he said, his voice rough, as if he hadn’t used it in a while. “Sadly that’s not an option.” He moved, and there was a jangling sound.
Dread stole through Kett as her rational brain gave up the fight and the possibility occurred to her that she wasn’t actually dreaming at all. She peeled open one eye.
“Hi,” he said. He had green eyes and shaggy dark hair and he was still all warm and hard and naked.
“Mmm,” Kett sighed. And then she blushed. Which she hadn’t done since…ever.
He grinned, which made him a little more delicious. “Nice of you to join us.” His smile faded a little. “Are you all right?”
She took stock. The entire front of her body was pressed tight against his—shoulder to shoulder, breasts to chest, crotch to crotch. They were both completely naked. Even the feet that brushed against hers were bare.
Kett shifted against him, and it was an entirely pleasant thing to do.
A chain bound them together at the waist. Her right arm stretched way above her head, supporting her full weight from the chain that was suspended from the roof of what she suspected to be a cave. Her new friend’s arm was bound to hers, wrist to wrist, and while the chain that held their weight was of the heavy regular kind, the one that bound them together about their waists appeared to be silver.
There was a trickle of blood between their bound wrists.
Kett began to get a really bad feeling.
“Five by five,” she murmured, rattling the chains experimentally. Her left arm was twisted behind her back by the waist chain—not by bedclothes, dammit—and caught tight enough that she couldn’t move it. From the looks of her handsome although irritatingly calm friend, his was too.
“What?” he asked.
Okay, Kett, stay calm. This probably isn’t as bad as it seems. Someone playing a joke on you, perhaps. Someone at Koskwim who still thinks it’s funny to torment Mad Kett. At least they chained you to someone really hot. You’ve been in worse situations. At least you’re not actually dead this time.
For all her luck this was probably some screwy marriage ceremony. She’d probably met this guy at the Maharaja’s party and had too much to drink and forgotten that marriage was the worst idea ever invented. Even after years of fuckwits she could still be a sucker for a pretty face.
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to see over his distressingly broad shoulder. “Apart from the fact that I have no idea how I got here, or who you are, my arm feels like it’s gonna pop out of its socket and, oh yeah, I appear to be naked and bloody and chained to a complete fucking stranger. What else could I be but fine?”
“Whoa,” he said, “keep your knickers on.”
I’m not wearing any.”
His grin said he’d noticed. “I mean calm down.”
Calm?”
“Opposite of what you’re doing. I’m as much in the dark as you are. I haven’t a clue what’s going on.”
She brought her eyes back to his—it wasn’t hard, they were about four inches away—and saw honesty in their warm green depths. Aware that her bosom was heaving against a complete stranger’s chest, she tried to take his advice and calm herself. If only because she’d never thought of herself as having a “bosom”, and it made her feel old.
Only she wasn’t so good at being calm. She preferred totally and utterly freaking out.
Right, Kett. What’s going on? A cave, silver chains, amnesia. She didn’t recall there being all that many caves in the Maharaja’s palace. Had she offended someone there? Possibly—Kett was good at being offensive—but the Maharaja’s court was into more public punishments.
See, this is what happens when you extend the hand of friendship. Some bugger bites it.
She went through a list of enemies in her head, but most of them were dead. Those FederaciĆ³n bastards were at the top of the list of the living, but she still couldn’t fathom why they might have left her here. A slow death, maybe. Pain and starvation.
Maybe Striker was playing a joke on her. She couldn’t work out why, but then she’d never wanted to understand the innermost workings of his mind.
“You have no idea where we are?” she asked, trying the calm thing.
“A cave.”
“You think?”
“Ooh, tetchy. Don’t think there’s anyone else here. I called out but no one answered.”
A hundred ideas came to her, none of them pleasant. They’d been strung up here to die, that much was clear—but were they being left as meat for hungry bears or dragons, or to wait for the tide to rush in or what?
No, this place didn’t smell damp. If anything, it smelled like something had recently been burning here.
Great. They were going to be barbecued. Back to the dragon theory. Well, at least Kett understood dragons, although unfortunately what she understood was that they liked fresh meat.
And the blood. Didn’t seem like an accidental cut—wrist to wrist, that looked a lot like something ritualistic. She hated bloody rituals.
Still. Kett had a trick or two up her— Well, she had a trick or two.


Mad, Bad & Dangerous
is released today from Ellora's Cave.

16 comments:

  1. *grins* Already started reading ;)Had to come post...I should be writing, but as your fan, I am reading!

    Most MBD? Hmmm, I don't kiss and tell, so that will have to remain a secret or just show up in a book somewhere.

    Although I do consider wearing my goth boots to a 5 star French Restaurant pretty daring ;)

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  2. Most mad, bad, and dangerous thing? I once got locked in a porno theatre in Amsterdam and had to be let out by the manager. You can probably add "embarrassing" to that story too.

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  3. Sybir, I once wore a PVC basque to my religious cousin's wedding anniversary. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than goth boots in a French restaurant!

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  4. Naomoi, now you have to tell us HOW you got locked in there!

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  5. (And I have to learn how to type your name)

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  6. Hmm - I suppose offering to run the RNA conference for a zillion years doesn't count?

    Or deciding to start up a brand-new playgroup from scratch when my daughter was two?

    I'll have another think.

    (Brilliant excerpt, by the way!)

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  7. Love all the comments so far. I've never really done anything really risque, for me it was more on the daring/dangerous side. On my 30th birthday my best friend dared me to make a tandem parachute jump and then bungee jump off a local bridge, because, hey, we were getting so old, lol. So of course we did both,and it was totally wild.

    caity_mack(at)yahoo(dot)com

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  8. Well, we saw these people in the theatre leaving through a side door, which we assumed was the exit. Turns out it actually lead to ... um ... "special booths" for um ... "enjoying yourself a bit too much." So we hurriedly walked past through a door we thought must be the real exit. Turned out to be a storage closet with no door handle on the inside.

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  9. Well Jan, I'd say offering to run the RNA conference is quite mad, but then seeing what a fantastic job you do of it I can hardly say it's bad!

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  10. Cathy, I'd say a parachute jump is pretty mad, and dangerous! A friend of mine did it once...I was just there to take pictures and I was damn terrified!

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  11. And Naomi, that kind of anecdote almost belongs in the book!

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  12. Love the excerpt! I'm a wimp so I'm afraid there's no MBD thing for me. That's not to say that I can't fantasize! I would like to join a biker's club, you know, all black leather and a Harvey roaring down the street!:o)

    tamsyn5@yahoo.com

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  13. Tamsyn, who doesn't love the idea of being a biker--even if the reality is terrifying (I once heard a surgeon refer to bikers as 'donors' which hardly fills you with confidence). Nevertheless, if motorbikes existed in Kett's world, you can betcha-by-golly-wow she'd be riding one!

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  14. Just read your excerpt, loved it. Read the excerpts, and not I feel really boring. I can't think of a single thing I've done in my 28 years that is mad, bad or dangerous...oh well, there's still time...

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  15. b33I run with scissors. Often. I know it's dangerous because my mother told me so.

    Oh, and there's the whole seducing junkies, riding mad horses and abseiling thing, but running with scissors - that's the biggie.

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  16. Stephanie: there's always time!

    Jane: scissors! Oh my dear girl. Junkies I could have forgiven, but scissors?

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