I want to know what love is

I got my book cover this week. Gorgeous, isn't it?
Makes me want to go diving again....

I WANT TO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS

"I WANT TO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS", a contemporary IR hot romance by Eve Summers, will hit the Red Rose Publishing shelves on 27 May 2010.

Excerpt:

The scuba wetsuit was too small. The crotch barely reached mid-thigh.

Damn!

Amy pinched the thick black rubber around her knees and gave it an upward yank. No go.

Hot damn!

“Amy?” Dan’s voice made her heart leap to her throat before it sank into her stomach. “How are you getting on in there? It’s ten past already.”

Is that what love felt like? That anxious sensation in your gut?

“You go ahead,” she called out. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“You’ll be late.”

“We’re on Pacific Island time, Dan. There is no such thing as late in Tahiti.”

Ok, so the cheerfulness was faked. But tonight - if she played her cards right and there was a tonight to speak of - tonight there would be no faking. Amy was sure of that. Well, fairly sure. Dan was a hunk, and she was in love with him. Almost certainly. Probably. Make that, almost in love, almost probably.

Anyway, she’d never find out now. She was stick in the change room forever, her thighs bound by the wetsuit from hell.

Now what?

“Amy?” Zorro, the scuba instructor, a stunning young man the color of burnt toffee, poked his head into her cubicle.

The heat of humiliation burned in Amy’s cheeks. The last thing she wanted was for anybody, let alone a total hunk, to see her half-naked pink body bulging out of the black rubber.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive escaped her mouth unwanted.

Zorro gave her a grin that managed to be both naughty and reassuring. “Your wish is my command, madam.” The accent was striking, French with a touch of palm trees and vanilla. “I’ll be at your beck and call as soon as the course is over.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Amy swept her long yellow hair forward, in a vain attempt to hide under its coat. She tugged at the wetsuit again.

“That’s a lovely bikini you’re wearing, Goldilocks,” he said, “but it won’t do as protection against the jellyfish.” His voice was like rich suede. “The sizes are difficult to get right with rubber. Here, try this one.”

I bet you have trouble getting the size right when it comes to, mmmm, rubber, Amy thought as she eyed the well-filled front of Zorro’s swimming trunks.

“Uhm, thanks.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Zorro was every woman’s secret fantasy, the kind you blush about in the darkness of your bedroom and never ever discuss with your girlfriends.

Stop it. Dan’s the one, remember?

Is he?

What is Romance?

Romance can be more than alpha males and hormones going zinggggg. Read more here.

Eve Summers going on a Virtual Tour

Eve Summers is visiting

"D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters"

with her two novellas:

• "A slave of my own desire" and
• "Fiji on Fire, Fiji on Ice".

Check it out, it's a fabulous site!

Fictionwise Galore

Eve Summers has 3 new books out on fictionwise.com:
- Like a Virgin
- Fiji on Fire, Fiji on Ice
- Wild Thing

Excerpt from Fiji on Fire, Fiji on Ice:

The moment Tanya Redford spotted the caramel-skinned hunk in the hotel foyer she knew two things: that the guy was a con artist and that she was in troube--big time.

The con was in the sincere angle of his shoulders and in the forthright gaze. The con was in his smile, vulnerable with honesty. The con was in his bad boy charm.

The mixture meant trouble of mega proportions.

Tanya didn't mean to listen in on the conversation...All right, she did. The hunk's voice was like Kahlua and it slid delectably over her, caressing her skin and tingling her spine.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a poker player, Mr. Lockhorne," he leaned his body in toward an elderly couple and spread out his arms. "You'd hate me for spoiling your evening."

While Tanya did not believe the "not much of a poker player" part, she agreed with the rest of the statement. It would be easy to hate this guy once he'd cheated you at the poker table. She already hated him for the way her nipples tensed up at the sight of his predator-like mouth and for the way her hands ached to stroke his tight jeans.

"Nonsense," the elderly gentleman's voice boomed across the hall. "We don't take the game seriously. But evenings are so boring in this place--there is only so much Fijian dancing an old grump like me can watch in a week."

"Surely, with a delightful wife like yours--" The conman's eyes blazed brazen as he lifted Mrs. Lockhorne's wrinkled hand to his mouth.

He held it there for about one hundred years, while Tanya looked on, transfixed. The air around her thickened, she gulped its heat in short shallow breaths. She would give all her days in this five-star beach resort in exchange for one night with that mouth.

"Oh, go on, Andy," the other woman laughed and tilted her head, her hand still captive on his lips. "Coming from anybody else, that comment would have sounded sleazy."

"Ma'am, I can assure you..." His cheeky grin belied the words.

Andy. The owner of the best jean-clad arse she has seen in years--make that "ever"--was called Andy. His name sent a prickling awareness up and down her spine.

Randy Andy. Andy-Candy. Neat.

The Seventh Taboo

It's been a few months now since the publication of "The Seventh Taboo" by the Wild Rose Press, and the sales are going strong. This makes me re-think everything I know about promotion.

You see, I made a conscious effort not to promote this title. I wanted to see whether the strength of the writing and of the story would be enough to carry it.

The book carries the stamp of approval from the New York Times Bestselling Author Nalini Singh, so I'll do away with false modesty and say it outright: the book is good. It looks like the readers agree.

I can't help wondering, though, how well the book would have sold had I actually put some time and effort into promoting it. New-York-Times-Bestselling-well, perhaps? :-)))

["A brilliant story! I want more!

Nalini Singh,

New York Times Bestselling Author

of Hostage to Pleasure]

Fiji: A Tropical Delight or a State of Emergency?

Have a look at the cover for my Fiji romance.

Go on...

What do you see? A slice of paradise? Heaven on earth? An island delight? Yes, they are all clichés, and they are all tue – for me at least.

This book cover has the power to take me from stressed to smiling, and from overworked to holiday-mode. It has the ocean, the beach, a cocktail and a semi-naked man. What more can you ask for?

In good weather, Fiji is all that, and more. A complex of tiny South Pacific islands in the middle of nowhere, it is the romantic white-sand destination for Australians and New Zealanders alike, which is why I set one of my romantic novellas there.

So far, so good. Sadly, since the book’s publication in 2009, Fiji’s experienced severe political unrest as well as a devastating hurricane, described in the media as “fiercer than Katrina” and still raging as I write this.

So here’s the deal. For every copy of “Fiji on Fire, Fiji on Ice” sold in March and April 2010, I will donate $1.50 to Fiji Aid.

(http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=363)