Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

March 9, 2016

~ On Repeat... Adam Lambert - Better Than I Know Myself ~


Cold as ice
And more bitter than a december
Winter night
That's how I treated you
And I know that I
I sometimes tend to lose my temper
And I cross the line
Yeah that's the truth

I know it gets hard sometimes
But I could never
Leave your side
No matter what I say

Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,
But I really need you near me to
Keep my mind off the edge
If I wanted to leave I would have left by now
But you're the only one that knows me
Better than I know myself



March 3, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! With the Band by Natasha Preston



Texas Knight is daughter of the word’s biggest rock star, Mark Knight.

Kitt Daniels is lead singer in the hottest up-and-coming band, Filthy Sound.

Mark has mentored Filthy Sound from the beginning, seeing their potential, and now he’s supporting them on their first worldwide tour.

She’s off-limits.

He can’t help himself.




Texas terrifies me because she makes me want everything right now. Marriage, house, kids—I’d do it now. Logically, I know better. We’re in the early stages of our relationship, and I have a ton going on, things I can’t bail on and don’t want to.

Doing anything other than singing in this band isn’t an option for me, and Filthy Sound still needs a fuckload of my time and attention. 

Somehow, I have to find a way to somewhat equally balance the two most important things in my life. 

“Thanks, Hank,” I say as he finishes up straightening one of the large black curtains. With them all around the living room, it looks like night in here, and the hundreds of fairy lights are like stars.

“Have a good night.” He gives me a wink and then leaves. 

I don’t know how he managed to pull it off, but it looks awesome.

My palms start to dampen. I’m fucking nervous. She’d better like this.

When did I become love’s bitch?

I wipe my hands on my jeans as someone knocks on the door.

I feel like I need a minute.

There’s another knock, and I know for sure it’s Texas. No one else is that impatient. 

“Hey.” She smiles as I open up. Her eyes go wide when she looks inside. “Kitt…”

“Come in,” I say. 

She doesn’t move, so I take her hand and tug her inside. 

“I’ve never seen you speechless, Tex. It’s unnerving and, if I’m honest, something I thought was an impossibility.”

Tilting her head, she gives me a look, and then she’s back to being stunned. “I can’t believe you did this. I mean, Kitt Daniels can be romantic. Who knew?”

I certainly fucking didn’t. 

“Do you like it?” I ask, rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

She takes the whole room in—the curtains that look like a starry night, the table laid out, the food and the wine waiting. “Kitt…I love it.”



UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story and hasn’t looked back since.

She enjoys writing contemporary romance, gritty Young Adult thrillers and, of course, the occasional serial killer.


February 16, 2016

Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Love Me Tenor, Perfect Harmony #2 by Annabeth Albert




Trevor Daniels is feeling aimless. A recent college grad, he’s not sure what to do with his useless degree, and his family all but abandoned him after he revealed the truth about himself. But a friend’s suggestion that he take his chances on a reality show aimed at finding the next big boy band strikes a chord with him—until the show’s producers convince him to act like he’s in a relationship with a guy who’s not at all his type. It isn’t exactly love at first sight for Jalen Smith either—but lust just might push them in an unexpected direction. If only their secrets weren’t even more twisted than their sheets, threatening to cost them the win—and each other…



“You brought your luggage?” The receptionist looked at Trevor like he’d brought a snake to the movie studio offices instead of a rolling suitcase and a backpack. 

“My flight was late. And then customs—”

“Fine.” She held up a hand, shimmery with the sort of nail art Trevor’s sisters weren’t allowed to wear. “You can have a seat.” She motioned to a seating area with square leather and chrome chairs and a metallic-looking shag rug. 

“Wait. Is my group here yet? Stand Out!?”

“Let me check.” She glanced at a pink sheet on a clipboard. “No.” She made a shooing motion back in the direction of the waiting area. 

“Thanks.” 

The receptionist disappeared back down a hallway, teetering on shoes that put her a good six inches taller than Trevor. The building was kind of a letdown. The whole complex was a series of gigantic gray warehouses, but the inside of this one was like any other office building in America. Or Canada. He’d only been in Vancouver a couple of hours and kept forgetting he wasn’t in the States anymore. 

His bag made a loud clickety-clack sound as he dragged it across the tile floor to the seating area, but the only occupant in the chairs didn’t even glance up. The guy was about Trevor’s age, maybe a bit younger. His eyes were half-closed, like waiting for producers to call his name was just so boring. He had that jock sprawl, maximizing every inch of the low chair. Trevor took a seat with a good view of the guy. Indifferent eye candy was his favorite kind. 

He had this thing for straight guys, particularly jocks. Jocks were his personal kryptonite; they made his knees turn into magnets, headed straight for the floor. And the guy across from him was the deadly, heart-stopping red kryptonite brand of jock. His build was perfect—not too tall, because Trevor was picky about that—but jacked like a Chevy with a lift kit. Hell, even the dude’s neck was ripped. Jock’s foot moved back and forth in motion with the music pumping in his ears from pricey Beats headphones. 

Because dude’s eyes were shut, Trevor felt free to continue his inventory of hotness. Baggy shorts. T-shirt for a wrestling team. Wrestling. Trevor had to shift around on the slick leather couch before continuing his appraisal. Cheap white socks, but black shoes that probably cost more than Trevor’s bike. Rich elitist jock? Yes, please. 

The outfit was notable because Trevor would have figured most guys coming to a TV studio would want to dress up a little. He had, but of course now his pressed khakis and dress shirt seemed horribly overdressed compared to jock boy and the receptionist wearing a cutoff denim skirt and a tank top that seemed to be made out of nothing more than knotted rope. 

Maybe dude wasn’t there to be on TV. Or if he was, maybe he was there for a different show from the music reality show Trevor was on. He certainly didn’t look like the boy band type. Dude looked ready for an MMA-fighter type show, or maybe working as a stunt double. But if he wasn’t on Trevor’s show, that meant—

“You done checking me out or you need me to turn to the other side?” Jock’s eyes snapped open. They were a startling shade of hazel, almost amber. And at the moment, they were filled with undisguised irritation.

Oh, crap. Trevor gulped hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dug out his phone, giving himself something to look down at. He’d been caught before and it almost never ended well. With any luck, Dawn would show up soon and he would never have to see jock boy again. 

“Oh, don’t be shy.” Jock boy had a killer whisper: husky with a hint of command to it. He said it with the air of someone who knew exactly how hot he was. And now he was going to make Trevor pay for noticing. 

Trevor didn’t look up from his phone, but inside he was squirming in his chair. In a different situation, he’d be more than happy to let this play out until he was on his knees in the restroom with jock boy berating him, but he’d sworn to turn over a new leaf. Plus there was always the risk that jock wanted all the verbal abuse and none of the fun. No more gambling. 

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” The other guy snorted. 

“Trevor! You made it!” Dawn came barreling across the lobby, red hair streaming behind her. She was flanked by two nearly identical blond giants—one wore a blue polo shirt and khaki pants, the other a brown polo and blue pants. Both had the same bored smirk on their faces. 

“What are you doing with your luggage?” Dawn’s smile was replaced by a frown, like Trevor was some clueless kid making her day more difficult. “Why didn’t you give it to the receptionist? They’re sending all the contestants’ stuff over to the house while we tape the intro segments.”

“Here. I’ll take it.” Blond giant number one grabbed Trevor’s bags, tossing them like they were a set of hand weights. 

“Jalen!” Dawn stepped around Trevor to hug jock boy, who stood up to greet her. “It’s about time. I was starting to freak!” 

Just his luck. Dawn hung on Jalen the jock like they were old friends, tugging his headphones down to his neck and rubbing his closely cropped black hair. Oh, geez. Jalen looked a bit young to be Dawn’s boy toy; she had to be in her late twenties. But no matter what Jalen was to Dawn, he was now a giant pain in the neck to Trevor. A sick feeling gathered in his gut and his hands tightened. 

“Did you meet Jalen already, Trevor?” she asked. 

“No,” Trevor said carefully. The tension in his muscles climbed to trampoline spring tight—any second now Jalen was going to call him out for creeping on him. 

“We’re acquainted,” Jalen drawled at the same time. 

“Um. Okay.” Dawn frowned but luckily kept talking before Jalen could reveal way more than Trevor wanted. “So this is Carter. And over there is Carson.” 

Twins. They had to be twins right? Trevor was already in too much shit for gaping and didn’t want to stare hard enough to figure it out. 

“So, are we ready to become the next boy band?” Carter spoke like some dude on an infomercial, each word carefully articulated for maximum impact. “I am so ready to win this thing.”

The riot in Trevor’s stomach grew worse. Win? With Jalen the jock? As in Trevor was now in the same group as jock boy? And the blond giants? For the next six weeks? 

“Yeah. Let’s do this.” Carson came back over. Like Carter, he had a macho, commanding voice, probably a baritone when he sang. Heck. Trevor really didn’t want to be the only tenor on a team of One Direction wannabes. 

“Okay Stand Out!, let’s go film your intro.” Dawn motioned for them to follow her down the hall. 

Oh, hell. He was really going to be on camera, in a boy band, right freaking now.



Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency



February 12, 2016

~ Song Release~ Listen to Me, Fusion #1 by Kristen Proby


Kristen Proby is known for writing heartfelt characters with deep connections and sizzling passion. This April, she will seduce readers’ senses with a brand new series, Fusion, from William Morrow Paperbacks, in which five best friends open a hot new restaurant together. Today, we are thrilled to bring you a song written exclusively for LISTEN TO ME, the first book in the Fusion Series releasing April 12, 2016. LISTEN TO ME finds a hot former rock star looking for a steady gig at the restaurant, but he’ll have to convince the prickly front-of-house manager to take a chance on him—with her business and her heart. Don’t miss what Kristen has to say about the beautiful ballad, If I Had Never Met You, and then grab your copy of the song and preorder the novel today!


A Message from Kristen about If I Had Never Met You: From the minute song writer Jake Keller lays eyes on Addison Wade, a tune sets up residence in his head. As he gets to know her, the tune becomes a song. Their song. Addie's song. The stakes are the highest they've ever been for him when he finally sings it to her, but will it be enough to keep her? ​ I can't thank​ Brad Yunek and Dan Keseloff enough for writing this beautiful song to accompany Jake and Addie's story. I hope you love it as much as I do!
If I Had Never Met You is now available on iTunes, Google Play, and Amazon for just $.99!


In New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kristen Proby’s brand new series, five best friends open a hot new restaurant, but one of them gets much more than she bargained for when a sexy former rock star walks through the doors—and into her heart. Seduction is quickly becoming the hottest new restaurant in Portland, and Addison Wade is proud to claim 1/5 of the credit. She’s determined to make it a success and can’t think of a better way to bring in new customers than live music. But when former rock star Jake Keller swaggers through the doors to apply for the weekend gig, she knows she’s in trouble. Addie instantly recognizes him—his posters were plastered all over her bedroom walls in high school—he’s all bad boy...exactly her type and exactly what she doesn’t need. Jake Keller walked away from the limelight five years ago and yearns to return to what’s always driven him: the music. If he gets to work for a smart-mouthed, funny-as-hell bombshell, all the better. But talking Addie into giving him the job is far easier than persuading her that he wants more than a romp in her bed. Just when she begins to drop her walls, Jake’s past finally catches up with him. Will Addie be torn apart once again or will Jake be able to convince her to drown out her doubts and listen to her heart?




About Kristen Proby: New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.
 

 

February 7, 2016

Coming Soon! Rock Your Heart Out,Sinful Serenade #3 by Crystal Kaswell



Rock Your Heart Out
Crystal Kaswell
(Sinful Serenade #3)
Publication date: March 10th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance

There’s a naked rockstar in my hotel room.
And he’s pierced. 

Willow Denton needs to get out of town fast. Her only option is joining her brother’s band on tour. Ten weeks with misbehaved men doesn’t sound so bad. Until she walks in on the drummer naked and sporting a spanking new piercing. There’s no way the player rock star will ever think of her as more than his BFF’s little sister. Better to focus on her photography. As soon as she stops thinking about him in her bed, against the wall, in the backseat of his car…

Sinful Serenade drummer Tom Steele is a wrecking ball. Bossy. Pushy. Hot as the molten center of the Earth. He’s not afraid to use his body or his fame to get what he wants– a different girl every night of the week (and three on Sunday). The man may be a whore but he can control himself. He’s going to keep an eye on Willow, be her friend. That’s it.

Their sizzling sexual chemistry makes this whole platonic things hard.

But there’s no way he’ll cross the line with the girl he’s supposed to protect.


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Crystal Kaswell writes steamy new adult and erotic romance books. She loves when flawed characters fall head over heels for each other. Especially if they fall into bed first. She loves police procedurals, tea, and The Hunger Games series. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband.


January 26, 2016

Book Promo! Rock Star Cowboys, The McLendon Family Saga #3 by D.L. Roan


The Mclendon twins are all grown up and-OMG-are they ever a double handful! Country music gods, these golden boys of Falcon Ridge are in for some tough lessons in family and love. When their beloved Papa falls ill, they are called home to the place that holds both their hearts and a painful secret. Can they face their past and heal their wandering souls, or will they turn their backs on the one person who can make them whole again?



Hot holy damn! It’d happened. Connor stood at the foot of the stairs and tried to remember how to breathe. 

He’d never put much stock in the lightning bolt, earthquake hoopla their dads and Papa Joe fed them over the years about what they felt when they found Mom and Gran. Twenty-four hours earlier, he would have rolled his eyes at one of their stories, but the second he came down those stairs and saw Breezy curled up in his brother’s arms, he knew. She was theirs. Completely. 

There had been no lightning bolt, no thunder, not even a tremor. The pull to join them on that couch, however, had been like a subtle, vivid instinct seated deep within and impossible to ignore. 

He pressed his fist into the center of his chest where the feeling was still fresh and fluttering around like a caged bird begging to be freed. It was the most amazing feeling, comparable only to bringing life to a new song. 

The instant attraction he’d felt to her suddenly made sense. Her taste, her scent, the feel of her beneath him, had all felt so fresh and familiar. On some elemental level his body knew she was the missing part of him.

“You were right to cancel New York, bro,” Carson said, dousing his new revelation with a barrel of cold reality. “No way I could sing like this anyway.”

Connor studied his twin. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going back to bed.” Carson groaned as he flopped back onto the couch and pulled a quilt over his legs.

“No. I mean, what are you doing with Breezy?”

Carson rolled his eyes and turned his back to him. “I was sleeping.”

“Car, I’m serious.” He walked over and snatched the quilt from his twin. “What kind of game are you playing with her?”

“I’m not playing any games.” Carson reached out and snatched the quilt back. “You were right, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Right about what?”

“Me fucking everything up, Breezy, all of it.” Carson sighed, settling back into the couch, his face pinched in pain. 

Connor tried to read between the lines, unsure of what he meant. “I don’t understand,” he said, plopping down on the end of the coffee table.

“I’ve been a dick,” Carson said, sliding farther under the quilt. “What more is there to understand?”

That was an understatement. “Let’s start with why you’ve been a dick.”

Carson huffed, wiping his palm across his sweaty forehead. “Does it matter?” 

“Hell yeah, it matters.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore, okay? I want things to go back to the way they were between us, and for Papa Joe to get better. That’s it.”

“And what about Breezy? Are you saying you all of a sudden don’t believe the shit you’ve spouted about her for how many years now?”

“No. Maybe.” Carson stared at the ceiling, his lips pressing into a grim line. “Papa Joe told me some things last night that don’t add up.” Between coughing spells, Carson relayed the things their grandfather had told him, including his possibly cataclysmicmisconception about Ford’s visits with Charlotte. 

“Damn, Car. You don’t think he beat her, do you?” He searched through his memories, but couldn’t remember seeing any bruises. That didn’t mean there hadn’t been any.

“I don’t know,” Carson grumbled. “But if it’s true, I don’t know why she hasn’t told me to go to hell already.”

Connor shook his head. “I talked to her yesterday. She’s just as eaten up about everything as you are.”

A contrite look swirled in Carson’s eyes before he looked away, his fingers plucking at the stitches in the quilt as he spoke. “Did she, uh, say anything else? About yesterday?”

“Shit, Car. What did you do?”

“I didn’t—” 

“Did you kiss her?”

“No!” Carson snapped, searing him with a calculating glare. “Did you fuck her?”

“No.” Though, he may have if not for their Uncle Cade shooting down that drone. He’d never felt a spark, an electrical overload, like the one that arced between them. “She’s different. It’s not like that.”

“Are you saying you want her all to yourself, then? That you don’t want to share?” 

No sooner had Carson’s question reached Connor’s ears, than that very image appeared in his mind. Christ, she’d been so hot beneath him. He could only imagine what it would be like with her between them, naked and writhing and responding to them with that same passion. His cock responded to the fantasy and Carson took notice. 

“I didn’t think so.” Carson chuckled and rolled onto his side, turning his back to Connor again. 

Dammit. What was he going to say? He sure as hell wasn’t going to say no, but should he tell his brother how serious he was about her? If what he’d felt earlier was real, Carson would have to feel it too, wouldn’t he? But if they couldn’t even share a bedroom, how the hell were they going to share a wife? 

He didn’t have a clue what was going on inside his twin’s head. Whatever he was thinking, Connor wasn’t dumb enough to believe it was thoughts of forever. Not yet. But, if he had any chance of making that dream a reality, they had to start somewhere, right?

“I like her, Car. I like her a lot, and I want you to like her, too, but not if you’re screwing around. Not with Breezy. She’s not like the women on the road you can fuck and forget.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Carson grumbled into the back of the couch. “Look, I’m game for whatever you want, Con. Just let me know when and where.”

“I don’t want her to get hurt again,” Connor clarified. 

“I’m not screwing around,” Carson assured him, his irritation evident in his tone even as he struggled through another round of rattling coughs. “Damn, this cold is kicking my ass.”

What was Carson thinking? What had changed? “Do you think you can truly let go of the past and see where this goes?” he asked one final time. “Look at me and tell me that’s what you want.”

Carson rolled over, letting out a long sigh before he met Connor’s questioning gaze. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”

Connor studied him for a moment, seeing a mixture of resigned indifference and hesitant sincerity in his brother’s eyes. It was enough, for now. He gave his brother a nod of agreement and stood. “Okay,” he said and held his brother’s gaze. “But, if you do hurt her, I’ll be the one kicking your ass.”


      



Join DL's Writer's Cave Club for exclusive stories, excerpts, behind-the-scenes editorials and More!

D.L. Roan loves combining fantasy with the real world, giving her readers more than just a book or romance, but a true adventure in love. Her characters are always real to her and she genuinely enjoys bringing them to life for her readers.

She's a native Floridian, a rare breed in a land of snow birds. Scuba diving and hunting for shark's teeth on the beach are two of her favorite things. Oh! And building sand castles instead of snowmen in December and sending pictures of them to all her snowbound friends. She loves rainy days, thunderstorms and is an avid dog lover. Yes, size matters. She hopes to one day add a big ol' floppy Great Dane to her family of hounds.

Check out the links in the back of her books for details about her secret fan group where she hangs out with her fans who get first dibs on all her sexy stories!


January 25, 2016

Release Day Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Dirty Tricks, The Burke Brothers #4 by Emma Hart




Chelsey Young's dad was a rock star. Glamorous, right? But late nights, frequent travelling, and watching endless women rub their bodies against Lukas Young's in a bid for his attention wasn't exactly how Chelsey planned to spend her senior year of high school.

So when Kye Burke, of the ultra-sexy band Dirty B, sets his sights on Chelsey, she figures the best way to get him off her back is by taking his sexy butt to bed.

But after one night together, Kye has no intention of staying away from Chelsey, especially when she's kissing him one minute then pushing him away the next. From watching her father, Chelsey knows the rock star lifestyle that Kye leads—being away for long stretches of time, girls throwing themselves at him on the regular, shirtless photos showing up in his inbox ten times a day. She wants no part of it.

Kye is determined for Chelsey to get to know him, the real him behind the rock star persona. But that isn't so easy when Kye's schedule will take him away for days, weeks, even a month or two at a time, which is a dealbreaker for Chelsey. Long distance means temptation to stray, and infidelity was the reason her own parents split. She knows it's not fair to project her own insecurities onto Kye, but some things are unavoidable.

But Kye Burke isn't Lukas Young.

And, distance or not, he's going to damn well prove it.



“What,” Chelsey exclaims, “the hell is that?”

With a wide smile spreading across my face, I shove my hands in my pockets like a teenage boy and look at her. “A Christmas tree.”

“Are those . . . penises?”

“Technically, dildos.”

“Like real ones?” She jerks her alarmed gaze to me.

“No. Just plastic.”

She flicks her tongue across her lips. “Uh-huh. Why do you have penises across your Christmas tree?”

“Because he’s an immature little bastard,” Leila answers for me.

“You didn’t stop me,” I shoot back.

“Hell no I didn’t. I cannot wait to see Mom’s face when she sees this!”

“When she sees what?” Mom’s voice creeps through the house ominously, and the close of the door after her sounds like the signal that I should run away.

“Uh . . . I’m just gonna go . . .to the store. . . .” I shuffle toward the door that connects the front room with the kitchen.

Chelsey lifts her eyebrows in amusement, and Dad grabs the back of my shirt so I can’t escape.

You wouldn’t think I was twenty-four. For numerous reasons, obviously.

“Kye Burke, why are there tiny penises on my Christmas tree?”

Her voice is calm. Really calm. I’m even more convinced that I should run. “Merry Cock-mas?”

Mom’s expression is somewhere between insane amusement and extreme frustration.

“I’m just gonna come back later . . .” Chelsey whispers, edging toward the living room door. “When there are less . . . cocks.”

“Good idea! I’ll come with you.” I wrestle out of Dad’s grip and dart behind him, through the kitchen, and into the hall.

Chelsey laughs and grabs my arm, dragging me back into the room. “I said I was going. I didn’t say you were escaping this cock-up.”

“Great choice of words,” Dad chuckles.

Mom pinches the bridge of her nose. “I should have known that when three boys left, one boy would have to make the impression of three,” she says, mostly to herself. “I should have known that the one who never left his little peep alone at two would one day decorate my tree in cocks.”

“Mom! What the hell?” I sputter.

“I should have known that his ball-hoarding obsession at six was a sign of things to come,” she sighs heavily and drops her hand. “After all, there’s one in every boyband. I thought I was ready for this.” Then, she turns to me. “Kye, son, we love you anyway, but I have to ask. Are you gay?”

Chelsey lets go of me, and laughter rips from her. Leila laughs, too, her book falling to the floor. Dad covers his face with his hands, and Mom just stands there in the middle of the room, her eyes wide. Her hands are now clasped in front of her sympathetically, and the tiny upturn of the right side of her mouth explains it all.

“Well played, Mother,” I say reluctantly, walking back toward the front door. “Well. Played.”






By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies - usually wine - and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.