Happy Thanksgiving from the Honeybun Hunks

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As you can imagine, Thanksgiving at the Honeybun home is a chaotic affair. With a baby and a five year old added to the mix, things will be even more unruly this year! But things should never get so chaotic that a family filled with love and loyalty shouldn’t stop and consider what they’re thankful for. So here it is, what the cast of the Honeybun Hunks series is thankful for:

Mama Wanda Honeybun: The matriarch of the Honeybun clan is grateful that I dragged every one of her sons through their stories alive and, mostly, well. Though they came away from their adventures with emotional and sometimes physical scars, all eight of Wanda’s sons are the stronger and happier for their adventures!

Papa Bob Honeybun: As a lawyer of some renown, the patriarch of the Honeybun clan is just glad the boys’ tendency to walk that fine, at times nearly invisible, line between legal and illegal when working to protect and save their loved ones, hasn’t really come back to bite him in the butt yet. There have been several really close calls, but so far so good. Unless you count the birth of little Matilda Honeybun. That was an event that nearly did him in!

Uncle Brick Honeybun is especially grateful that he didn’t agree to pose for a portrait with Pleasance before finding out what her preferred art form was. (She paints male nudes!)

Alfric Honeybun is grateful that being burned with the super secret government spy organization he worked for allowed him to find and save Pleasance, the love of his life. He’s also grateful that he was reinstated with that secret organization so he could keep his seven brothers alive and help them save their honeys from an assortment of bad and worse situations.

Godric Honeybun is very grateful that he joined the Civil War Reenactment in Southern Indiana, or he’d have never met his soul mate, Dini. Of course he wouldn’t have fallen off a cliff, been washed away in a flood, or attacked by a crazed ex-military ghost soldier either.

Percy Honeybun is grateful that not too many people know his full name (Percival) because the shortened version is bad enough. But more importantly, he’s grateful he and his looooonnnnngggg time girlfriend Brita are finally seeing things eye to eye…well mostly.

Clovis Honeybun is grateful he no longer has to stomp privates who chuckle about his name…militarily speaking of course. He’s also so very grateful he was able to snatch little Cilla out of the murky pond in time to save her, or his honey, Emma would have never forgiven him for that whole drugging her and putting her in the back of the car thing.

Alastair Honeybun is grateful his beautiful new wife, Angie FINALLY married him. He’s also very grateful she didn’t blow it off that day in her coffee shop when she heard two low-lifes talking about killing him. She rode to his rescue and set off a chaotic but fun set of events that he was pretty sure the whole Honeybun clan will be talking about for the rest of their lives.

Edric Honeybun is sooo very grateful that he found the lovely Bella and she gave him a beautiful and incredibly smart baby girl named Matilda. Okay, he’s not grateful Bella allowed Mama Honeybun to pick the name…but he’s grateful for the beautiful baby and figures she wears the name well. Even if it is stupid.

Warwicke Honeybun is grateful he went with his instincts that night at the track and decided to step in to help the beautiful but icy Fabiana when he found a fellow driver smacking her around. Though she’s a tough competitor on the track, Warwicke is glad she finally allowed him into her heart. Oh, and he’s really glad his youngest brother Heathcliffe has lost all disguise priveledges after embarrassing them all to death as Mateo at the drag races!

Heathcliffe Honeybun is really grateful his life crisis drove him to spend some time at his cousin Peyton’s dude ranch in Southern Indiana. If he hadn’t gone he’d have never met Nita and wouldn’t have been able to save her from a deadly stalker. But more importantly, he would never have been able to play the fun-loving Carlton Critic to Nita’s Candy Cupcake at the murder mystery dinner the night they first made love.

Sam Cheever: Yeah, I’m inserting myself into this because the thing I’m most thankful for, after the health and happiness of my real and fictional families, is that, every day, I get to do what I enjoy most in the world. I get to craft stories filled with love, laughter and excitement. I’m the luckiest woman alive!

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone! And for those of you who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I’ll eat an extra slice of pumpkin pie for you. Nice of me, huh? Yeah, that’s just how I roll. Wait a minute…that might be the reason I roll…

Hugs and kisses!

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Wicked Reads Blog Hop – A Honeybun in Hell – Fun and Terrifying Romantic Suspense!


What Scares You in a Fun Way?

I think about this question a lot around this time of year, because I seem to find myself writing my characters into scary situations a lot. For me, fun scary isn’t bloody gutsy. I think slasher movies/books are too unsettling to enjoy. I guess I’m more into psychological and atmospheric terror.

Give me a deep, dark wood, or a creepy old haunted house any day.

So what is it about these places that’s fun scary to me? I guess it’s the anticipation of something horrible in a setting that, under a bright sun, would seem normal and harmless. Terror slides into place under a fat moon or a storm-drenched sky. It pulses to life as the sun dies and is a living, breathing force until the sun rises again.

Fun scary is the monster in the closet or the ghoul skulking behind a tombstone. It’s a child’s nightmare…a madman’s dream. It doesn’t slash or eviscerate, but the possibility is always there for violence, like a rancid hope.

I particularly love atmospheric scary. It pulses with a thunderous heartbeat of its own, dragging you into a terrifying abyss of fear and helplessness. A stormy Cliffside at night, with the ocean pounding violently far below. A dark, chilled cave filled with the stench of death and other…much worse…things.

And speaking of caves…here’s a pulse-pounding snippet from my fun and scary romantic suspense, A Honeybun in Hell:


Brita leaned against the icy wall and closed her eyes, pulling breath from lungs that seemed to have seized up from weariness and growing fear. The darkness surrounding her was complete, dense and thick, with an undercurrent of movement that kept her on edge.

For the last couple of hours she’d been certain someone…or something…waited just beyond her reach. She had nothing substantial to go on. It was just a wisp of breath here, a scrape of sound there. Just enough to keep her constantly off balance.

Her fingers were numb and she could barely clutch the flashlight. Her shoes and the cuffs of her jeans were soaked and caked with mud. She shivered violently from the cold that permeated everything in that forbidding place.

And still she saw no light ahead, no exit, no sign that she was progressing toward anything but a cold, lonely death. Brita fought against despair, forcing her feet to keep moving forward.

One step at a time.

She was so numb from cold and a growing sense of despair that it took her mind several seconds to register the fact that he’d appeared in front of her.

His sour breath danced across her cheeks a second before he grabbed her arm and yanked it upward. Brita was so lethargic she didn’t react in time to stop him.

She barely felt the sting on the inside of her captured arm before the numbness moved beneath her skin. As her knees buckled out from underneath her, plunging her toward the ground, the last thing she saw was Percy’s worried face.

Unfortunately for her it was only in her mind.


Comment below to tell me your favorite spooky locale and be added to a drawing for a $25 Amazon or B&N gift card!

***Don’t forget to leave your email in your comment so I can contact you if you win!***

Prize is international and will be awarded following the Hop. Good luck!

Wicked Reads

Now back to the HOP!

Posted in Blog Hop, Contemporary Romance, Mystery, Paranormal Mystery, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Suspense | Tagged , , , , , , | 44 Comments

A Sexy New Release and a Yummy Recipe – How can you go wrong with that?

As American as Apple Pie by Sloane Taylor

As the hero of my erotic short story French Twist. Don Hobbs knows exactly what he likes in the bedroom as well as the kitchen. This Chicago born and bred man is a true lover of fried chicken. The lady in his life, Claudette D’Laquois, has no clue how to turn on a stove, let alone fry this scrumptious dish. But what can you expect from an Interpol agent? To make Claudette’s life easier, I gave her the recipe so she can keep her man happy while he oversees an orchard in Nice, France.

Sloane’s Down-home Fried Chicken

1 tbsp. salt
Tap water
6 chicken legs, or thighs or 4 breasts, skinless and boneless
1 cup flour
1tsp. thyme
½ tsp. marjoram
Freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large egg
1½ tbsp. milk
½ cup solid shortening or lard, plus more as needed

Dissolve salt in a small amount of water. Add chicken pieces then cover with more water. Set this in the refrigerator for 4-6 hours.

Remove chicken from fridge 2 hours before you plan to cook. Drain and pat dry.

Combine flour and seasonings in a paper or plastic bag. Shake gently to combine ingredients. Mix egg and milk in a bowl. Set a clean plate or platter on the counter to hold the breaded chicken.

Place one chicken piece at a time in the bag, shake gently to thoroughly coat, then dip in egg mixture, then return the piece to the bag and gently shake again. Set chicken on the plate. Repeat the process until all pieces are coated. Set the uncovered plate in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Heat the shortening in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Test to be sure shortening is hot enough by adding a small piece of bread. It should sizzle and toast quickly.

Carefully add the chicken pieces. Maintain the temperature, but adjust it so chicken doesn’t burn and grease doesn’t splatter everywhere.

Turning frequently, brown the chicken on all sides. Cover and cook 20-25 minutes or until juices run clear when pierced with a sharp knife.

Lay pieces on a plate lined with paper towels to absorb any oil. Transfer them to a clean platter and serve.

Here’s a brief intro to Book Three of the Naughty Ladies of Nice series with Don and Claudette.

Spies and lies bring a deadly twist to the City of Lights.

Interpol agent Claudette D’Laquois is trapped in the hellhole of life and unable to trust anyone. Desperate to regain control, she flees to the safety of her uncle’s rundown chateau on the French Riviera. But Claudette soon learns the countryside has its own dangers when she finds herself alone with a sexy foreigner.

Uptight accountant Donald Hobbs ditches numbers for dirt to oversee his friend’s orchard for three weeks. His well deserved vacation is perfect until a seductive mademoiselle drags him into a dangerous world of intrigue and erotic fantasy.

Illegal drugs and Russian mobsters take a back seat to a lethal night of sinful pleasure for Claudette and Don.


Nothing like an afternoon of hot sex to keep this guy happy.

Don followed Claudette down the hallway. He scanned her shoulders and down to her narrow waist and clenched his fists until the knuckles almost popped. His gaze dropped to her shapely hips that flared over her long legs. Legs that went on forever. He worked his way back up to her firm ass, mesmerized by the little swing it did as she nonchalantly strolled ahead of him. The rose dangled over her shoulder, luring him like a horse to the carrot, and he was eager to chase after it.

Walking right then wasn’t the easiest thing, but he managed. Her tapered legs in those sexy heels strapped around her slender ankles were the added bonus to keep him moving.

She stopped at her open bedroom door and glanced over her shoulder. Her long auburn hair shimmered with the movement.

Jesus, she was beautiful.

Mon cher, do not be shy.” Her voice dropped a couple of octaves. “I am not.”

Obviously, and he loved it.

He followed her to the bed while fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. She bent and laid the rose on the nightstand, exposing her wet pussy. His cock jackknifed. He swallowed hard and prayed he didn’t come before he finally got to touch her.

“You look as if you need help.” Her soft voice came out low, like a woman who’d been making love for hours.

She turned and reached for his belt. Her large breasts jiggled with the movement and erased his control.

He stretched out a hand for her, but she eluded him and dropped to her knees before he could touch her rosy nipples. An herbal aroma drifted up to him as her hair flowed across her breasts. He scooped it out of the way. The need to watch her every movement overwhelmed him.

His zipper rasped open. Don forced himself to breathe. His swollen cock leapt out of his shorts, grazing her moist mouth.

“I like a man who is eager.”

Her warm breath tingled against his swollen head.

He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer she followed through on what he hoped she had in mind.

She swiped her pink tongue across her lips, moistening their soft surface. His body tensed. A soft puff of air caressed his crown, then she bathed the length of his cock from root to tip. She nibbled at the sensitive underside of the cap long enough to buckle his knees.

He wove his fingers through her silky hair and gritted his teeth as she clamped one hand onto his ass and gently dragged the fingernails of her other against his tight balls. The sweet pleasure was almost unbearable.

Jesus, he needed to regain some form of control over his body before he embarrassed himself. He counted twelve breaths, held them, then started again. When that failed, he mentally recited accounting tables. Christ, he’d do anything to save face and not come.

She swirled her tongue across the tip of his dick, her lips nipping at the engorged ridge. It was too much for any man to tolerate. The first rush of heat charged up his cock. He cried out, pumping into her hot wet mouth.

“Stop, baby. I can’t keep this up.” After a few deep, ragged breaths, he ground out, “This isn’t fair to you.”

Claudette sucked him in deeper. Her face buried in his pubic hairs. A new earthquake of need erupted in him when a hum from low in her throat vibrated against his dripping cock.

“Fucksakes, baby.” He took her shoulders and regretfully pulled her off with a pop. “I need to come, but I want to satisfy you. We have to move to the bed.” He hooked a shaky thumb over his shoulder.

She glanced up, her cheeks flushed.

Oui, mon cher, you have all the good ideas today.”

Don doubted that, but he could competently return the teasing and drive her into a serious frenzy.

He held out his hand, wrapped it around hers, and pulled her into his arms. She was warm and yielding and sexy as hell. He cupped her chin and raised it toward his mouth…


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Award-Winning author Sloane Taylor is a sensual woman who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives and carries that philosophy into her books. She writes sexually explicit romances that takes you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all her stories have a happy ever after.

Her books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men’s lives.

Taylor was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, her mate for life, and Taylor now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.

Taylor currently has seven erotic romance books and one box set released by Toque & Dagger Publishing. Excerpts from these books can be found on her website, blog, and all popular vendors.

Subscribe to her short newsletter. Connect with Taylor on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+.

Posted in coming soon, Contemporary Romance, Guest Author, New Release, Thursday Tidbit, Upcoming release | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments