Dream Guy's Dream Girl

Thanks for having me!  I’m Alexis Alvarez, and I’d like to share an excerpt from my new romance novel, Dream Girl.  I got the idea for this book while I was watching an American reality TV dating show, The Bachelor. I wondered what would it be like to star on the show, and what kind of guy would I prefer to see as the hero?

He’d have to be intelligent and witty, a little sarcastic, with a great sense of humor. He’d be extremely handsome and sexy, with impressive muscles and a six-pack.  A bad boy past would be good, and some tattoos on his chest. Dark hair and eyes, check. 

Billionaire?  Not necessary, but certainly a bonus.  And then I started to reconfigure myself, too, into the kind of woman who could capture this ideal man’s heart. And out of those fantasies came my novel, Dream Girl.

In this excerpt, Chloe strikes up a conversation with a sexy man while waiting in the lobby for her final interview for the Dream Girl television reality show. She tries to mask her nerves and her attraction to him by making fun of the show, and explains that she’s only applying for fun and adventures, because the Dream Guy is bound to be a stupid, media whore who just wants to mess around with some pretty girls on TV.  Unfortunately for Chloe, the sexy man turns out to be…can you guess?

 “You have me at a disadvantage,” Chloe said imperiously. It sounded like something from an old British film, and it seemed perfect for the spectacle in progress. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I’m Dominic Harrington,” he told her and his smile turned predatory. “I’m the dick-head poser who’s looking to further his second-rate career and screw some stupid girls on TV. I’m the Dream Guy on the Dream Girls show. It is so nice to meet you, Chloe.”

Chloe’s face burned and she grabbed her hand back, and Dominic crossed his arms over his chest. Did he assume she was going to start fawning over him now and babble an apology? Well, she was not. This was a traffic wreck, sure, but hell, she was going to see it through, Chloe-style.

“You forgot tool,” she replied, crossing her arms in mimicry.

“What?” Dominic raised one eyebrow.

Chloe enunciated, raising her eyebrow back. “I also called you a tool. If you’re not familiar, tool—although it refers to something useful if you’re in the construction business—is not a compliment when it comes to describing men.”

“I’m familiar with the colloquial meaning,” said Dominic, thinning his mouth into a line.

“Good,” she exclaimed with a bright smile. “That saves me the trouble of having to explain the tricky words, like I had to do for some other people,” and she hitched her shoulder backwards at the reception desk. She added, “I just hope you’re not going to be a total tool box. I don’t want to be dealing with the entire inventory of the Craftsman line at my local Kmart. I mean, I signed up for dating, not home improvement.”

Dominic took a step closer. It was small, but it felt predatory, and Chloe felt her neck prickling. She casually took a step backwards.

“So…” Dominic said, “let’s review your goals, shall we? Basically… you’re a user. You just want free travel? Maybe I should call you Miss Trip Advisor.” He shot her a dangerous smile that made her heart flutter.

“Not fair.” Chloe glared. “Why should you get to enjoy a big paycheck, publicity, and perks—regardless of whether you find your true match— and in the same breath denigrate me for honestly saying that I want something more than true love? Hypocrite much?” Dominic scowled and Chloe soldiered on. “I’m here for interesting opportunities. I don’t think that’s wrong.”

“Interesting opportunities?” He drawled it out, sounding sexy and dirty, and suddenly Chloe could think of nothing but what an opportunity would be like with Dominic. “Oh, that’s right. You did mention an affair, didn’t you?” His smile was intense. He looked her up and down.

“I said a fling,” Chloe shot back. “And that doesn’t mean I’m a slut. The last thing I planned to do was come on this show and sleep with someone, okay? I was thinking some flirtation. Maybe a few kisses before I got booted off. But believe me, I’m not going to throw myself at you.”

Dominic’s lips curled into another smile. “Why would you think you’d get kicked off after a few kisses? Are you that bad at kissing?”

Chloe made an unintelligible noise. “That’s not—I’m an excellent kisser. I just mean that I don’t actually expect to make it onto the show, and—you know, this is not really any of your business.” She could feel her face all hot and flushed as she looked at his lips, then back to his eyes, then at the floor.

Dominic mused in a low voice, “Seeing as how you’re a contestant for my show… wouldn’t that make it my business?”

“No,” she said haughtily. “Because I’m not planning to kiss you. You’re being a total arrogant rude… jerk. And I don’t kiss jerks.”

“I think you want to kiss me a hell of a lot more than you’re willing to admit.” His eyes locked onto hers and for a moment Chloe could see nothing but her desire reflecting from the dark depths of his pupils.

“Maybe we should do a test run,” he murmured, his smile wicked. “Just to see how bad you really are. I’d be happy to give you some pointers.” And for one crazy moment, as his face drifted closer, she almost thought—

The moist man—the one the receptionist had called “Kyle”—cleared his throat, sending guttural phlegm bullets ricocheting around the room. Chloe jumped, and Dominic pulled his head back with a small smile.

“I think,” Kyle said, his smile at once oily and excited, “you are a perfect candidate, Chloe Barnes. Greg, please take her back and get her started on the paperwork. Did you get that footage, Michelle?” The woman with the camera did an A-OK sign and Kyle smiled.

Greg’s brow wrinkled. “Please follow me, Ms. Barnes,” he called, gesturing down the hallway with his clipboard. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Okay,” Chloe agreed, then turned to Dominic. “I guess I’ll see you around, Tool Box.”

“Oh, I’m counting the minutes, Trip Advisor,” he replied in a low voice, a smile tugging at his lips.

Chloe tried not to flush or stumble as she followed Greg’s pink glow down the hallway. Her mind was consumed with erotic images of exactly what she wanted to do the next time she was alone with Dominic Harrington—and how, especially if she somehow got herself onto the show, she absolutely could not allow herself to do them while being filmed and still maintain any decent level of self-respect.

Dream Girl is a light-hearted, fun romance with steamy sex, laugh-out-loud humor, and an HEA.

 Thanks for having me, and I hope you enjoyed the excerpt!

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He’s sexy and intelligent, handsome and witty… and Chloe’s body lights up with sparks at his touch. And when he looks into her eyes and whispers naughty sexy things into her ear, she wants to melt into him and enjoy the mind-blowing passion he promises.

Too bad he’s the star of the popular reality show Dream Girls, and he’s also dating nineteen other girls in addition to Chloe — girls who are sexy and so talented that their Nobel Prizes should arrive any day now. Chloe’s sure he’s just amusing himself with her, and there is no way he’d pick her as his final Dream Girl — especially since she gets into so many crazy scrapes on the show.

She promised herself she was only doing this for adventure, travel, and new experiences…not to make a fool of herself on national TV. But he’s so sexy and persuasive! Would it be so bad to say yes to all of his dark, dirty requests? And most important of all — what will happen if she risks her heart?


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You can find Alexis Alvarez at her blog, which she share with her two real life sisters. She’s also available on Goodreads and Facebook.

http://graffitifiction.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14127116.Alexis_Alvarez

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010018264605

It's All In The Packaging

The recycling bin; window to the soul, or at least to a kinky girl's bedroom.

A few weeks ago the motor on my favorite vibrator died. Those who have a trusty vibe know this is a big deal. It's hard to find the vibrator that's just right for you. Not all vibes are created equal, that's a fact. And every woman wants something different from their vibe.

Personally, most days I'm not breaking out the Hitachi. That's like sending in a lumberjack to weed out your flower garden. Talk about overkill.

 

Although...

Also, allergic reactions must always be taken into consideration. Like many women, I have sensitive bits. Finding materials that are compatible with your lady is difficult, not to mention expensive. A good, hypoallergenic vibe can cost up to $300, and it's not like you can return the thing if it doesn't work out the way you were hoping.

Quite honestly some brilliant vibe inventor is making bank right now, and they still haven't invented a vibrating glass piece.

Note to self; ideas for Kickstarter

 

Glass Vibrator

But I digress. 

On my quest for Mr. Right Vibe I ended up going a little crazy and bought a plethora of new toys and naughty aides. Who doesn't add an item or five to the cart just to get free shipping?

When my box finally came in the other day I snatched it off my front porch, looking left and right down the block, like I'd spy some nosy old lady with binoculars trying to ascertain what exactly I was getting. I took it directly to my room and gleefully tore it open. After evaluating my inventory and liberating my items from their packaging, I realized something.

I had to get rid of all the hard plastic phallic shaped wrappers and individual boxes with labels like ASSistant, G-Spot Finder, and Black Leather Pussy Slapper.

I looked at my pile of packaging and judged myself a little. There was just so much of it at one time. Was I opening a sex shop? Who needs that many sexual accoutrements? What kind of depraved beast was I?!

The panic was setting in along with a bit of buyers remorse. It's not like I was going to go hog wild and use all this stuff at the same time...well, maybe...

 

Fingers crossed

I talked myself down and was again happy with all my purchases. For the most part, that is. The ASSistant was as big as my head. It looked considerably smaller in the pictures. No way that thing is ASSisting my anything. It's languishing in my underwear draw because I just don't know where to store it.

Back to the point, I still had to get rid of all the packaging. I had a few options.

1) I could put all this through the shredder before dumping, making my recycling collectors hate me. You can't bag your recyclables here.

2) I could hefty bag it and send it to the city dump, something that my eco-friendly heart was not in favor of.

3) I could wait until night fall and dump it in my neighbor's recycling bin. Then when the trash collectors gave my nice old lady neighbor knowing looks, she'd just smile and wave. Clueless.

4) I could shove it all under my bed until someone in my house--probably my pre-tween--found it. Resulting in future therapy costs and being blamed for all sorts of repressions.

5) Or I could woman up, put it all in the recycle bin and hope this week wasn't the week my bin gets knocked over, dumping out empty naughty packaging all over the alley. Then probably blowing into my neighbors' yard for them to pick up. All dirty trails of scandalous trash leading directly to the spilled bin at my fence.

I did the right thing. I womaned up and recycled.

Heart racing up a storm, I walked to my back gate. Of course the second I began dumping the proof of my depravity a couple walking their dog started in my direction and my nice lady neighbor--the one I was going to pin my degeneracy on--brought out her trash.

I believe this was the universe making me sweat it for contemplating throwing my neighbor under the naughty bus. I was sure something was going to go wrong. Like instead of having toilet paper on my shoe I'd have phallic wrap trailing behind me. I had to fight looking down at myself in my hyper paranoid state. Rationally I knew I didn't have a rubber dick hanging out of my pocket.

Irrational me might as well of had a fake dong glued to her forehead in a unfortunate parody of a unicorn.

It was a huge relief when it was done and nothing spilled out at my neighbor's sandal clad feet. If she or the dog walking couple noticed any of the packaging being quickly disposed of, they hid it well. Not a snicker was uttered.

Now,  just one more week until the recyclables are actually picked up.

**Ever have a sex toy snafu? Kids at Mommy Meet Up wander out of the hostess's room playing swords with vibrators? I've been there. Feel free to share!!
   

The Loved One Spanking Teaser

This summer I've written much more than I've read. I've got books backed up on my kindle like cars on a LA freeway during rush hours. I can't seem to stop myself from clicking the buy button. My willpower when it comes to books is sorely lacking.

Buy books. Our habits make us buy books.

While I'm busy building my willpower muscle, I'd like to share some of what has kept me from reading. This is a snippet from my recently finished story--currently titled The Loved One. Our heroine Delia and our hero Jake are about to lose their spanking virginity.

       “Now I owe you a spanking.” 
       Her cloud of contentment cleared a bit at his words. “Spanking? For what?”

       He brought himself down to cover her again. His weight felt delicious as he nibbled kisses down her neck. He paused in his kisses giving her a serious look. “Honestly, I've wanted to spank you since the day I saw you lying over that hospital bed, this delectable bottom covered in those big floral panties.” So saying he gave her tush a squeeze. “I won't ever be able to see big floral panties without getting an erection ever again.”

       She giggled and he continued, “Then you stole my wallet and I knew I didn't just want to spank you. You deserved a spanking,”

       At this she huffed, “Borrowed. I borrowed your money. I left all your credit cards, IDs and wallet.”

       He just gave her a stern look before continuing, “Then there is the fact you went out last night wearing little more than an eye patch as a shirt.”

       “I was wearing quite a bit more than an eye patch!”

       He continued as if she hadn't spoken, “And you proceeded to get so drunk you ended up puking and passing out on me. What if I hadn't been around last night, Del? What if some other guy had taken you home?”

       When put like that, she felt chastised. She had just needed to let go for a while, but drinking herself to oblivion at a bar wasn't the way to do it. She wanted to crawl into a hole as she remembered getting sick in front of him. A little bit on him. And in front of Steven. Maybe she'd feel better after a spanking. In a small voice she asked, “You really want to give me a spanking?”

       “Yes,”

       “I've never had a spanking before.”

       “Never? Not even when you were little?”

       “No, I was in and out of foster care. Foster parents aren't allowed to spank us. Only their own kids. The ones I was sent to mostly made me pray for forgiveness. And pray I didn't end up like my mama. And my mama, when she had me, was more likely to slap my face than my bottom. I got good at not being noticeable.”

       He pulled a face of concern, “Maybe this isn't a good idea.”

       “No” She grabbed him before he could roll off her. “Please, I think you should spank me.” She wasn't sure why she was now trying to talk him into spanking her, but she knew at that moment that if he didn't spank her she'd be a little bit devastated. He wanted to spank her, she'd seen that desire clear across his face, and she wanted nothing more than to please him. “I do deserve a spanking Jake. I've been a naughty girl.”

        She said it matter of fact, but interest flared to life in his eyes, and a certain interest indicator pressed against her belly through his jeans, like she had been trying to be dirty. He was smiling again and it felt like lying in the sunshine. “I've never spanked a woman before.”

       She liked hearing that. She shouldn't be so thrilled that she was going to be the first woman he hit, but that's not what it felt like. It felt more intimate. Sexy even.

       He got up and she instantly missed his warmth. He pulled her up, kissing her deeply before easing her down over his lap. She had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. He ran a hand down her back, smoothing over her bottom and thighs. The caress made her want to purr. She wiggled on his lap against the erection at her hip. 

With the delivery of one Dear John letter and a set of divorce papers, Delia Myers is on a her way to self discovery. First stop: Embracing she's a terrible judge of character. Especially when it comes to men.

Jake Forrester is beyond charming, and hunky enough to have every female in a hundred mile radius panting after him. Basically everything she is trying to avoid. Too bad he's been determined to chase after her from the second he's laid eyes on her over sized floral granny panties.

She may run, but can she hide from love?

Warning; Contains one no-good, cheating ex-husband, a heroine with a propensity to make a run for it, and a hero that has a new found love for spanking a certain sassy woman who runs from him.  

The Loved One is a contemporary romance with spanking--because those are the best kind.

I Laughed, Then I Laughed Some More

Let's face it. This time of year doesn't really scream sexy. January is the hangover from the holidays. You regret spending too much, or eating too much. You reminisce about the good times and the bad, and you promise yourself you wont do all the bad anymore.

January, if you're doing it right, is filled with good intentions and the determination to follow through.

Sweat is just fat crying

Not to mention the inevitable meltdown that follows making changes and giving up the extra 1500 calories a day of cookies, pork roast, and wine you indulged in during the holidays. 

Nope, not very sexy at all.

That's why this week's book pick is a comedy that ranks right up there with Erma Bombeck's The Grass Is Always Greener Over The Septic Tank and Justin Halpern's I Suck At Girls. Fear not, this book is not only a romance but delightfully vulgar.

 

    http://amzn.com/1492108421

Love and Lists by Tara Sivec

Can someone die from a severe case of blue balls?

Gavin Ellis is a twenty five year old man asking himself and Google that very question. You see, Gavin is in love with his best friend Charlotte Gilmore. The most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world. Unfortunately for Gavin, Charlotte has placed him in the friend zone. Gavin has disparaged of Charlotte ever seeing him as the sexy beast he would like her to see him as, until one drunken night. Armed with liquid courage Gavin and his best friend Tyler make a 'foolproof' list to make Charlotte fall in love with Gavin.

Love and Lists is the perfect recipe for humor. Full of off the wall characters and scenarios that are the epitome of awkward, this book had me chuckling from the very first page. The disasters that follow in the wake of Gavin, and his drunken list, had me holding my sides laughing. There were many passages I read aloud to my husband, who chuckled and laughed as much as I did.

Peppered with popculture and a H/h aged 22 & 25, this book could easily fall in the New Adult Romance category, (aimed at the 18-25 crowd) but was still very amusing to this thirty two year old.

Tara Sivec has written a humorous love story that is different from anything I've ever read before. Indeed, the first half of the book is told from Gavin's POV. Right when I was getting tired of Gavin's POV the story switches up to Charlotte's POV. Although, a much different POV, Charlotte's half is equally funny as the first.

Love and Lists is actually a spin off of the Chocolate Lovers series by Tara Sivec.http://amzn.com/1490436588

While I was able to enjoy Love and Lists wholeheartedly, without having read the Chocolate Lovers books, I fell in love with the offbeat secondary characters enough to buy and read the original series. I found each story funnier than the last. I was very happy with my 3.5 Chocolate Lovers story pack purchase, but I must say Love and Lists is easily the funniest of them all.

Warning: This book contains lots of coarse language, penis and sex toy humor, over consumption of alcohol and misuse of Viagra. If of these things offend you, bugger off. This book isn't for you. 


Tara Sivec's waters run deep with her popular Playing With Fire series written under T.E. Sivec. For more on Tara Sivec, visit @http://www.tarasivec.com/home/