Come dance with us! Meet Casey Crow

Congratulations DeborahR for winning a copy of 

"Dance With A Millionaire" by Casey Crow!

 

Belagio, Italy

Lake Como, Swiss Alps

     Thank you for joining us this week. We have a special treat for you - see that two-story boat? We're all on it with the dynamic erotic author, Casey Crow and are going to enjoy not only a tour of the lake and town, we're going to tour the pages of Dance with a Millionaire! Help us make Casey feel welcome this week. She'll be around for questions and answers. Cheers to all of you. Grab your beverage and let's go chat with Casey!

Naughty Reader’s: Casey, Brenda and I are thrilled to have you here! Tell us a bit about yourself  that our readers might not know.

Casey:  I’m a Summa Cum Laude graduate from the University of Alabama with degrees in Business Management and Dance. I got my Master of Business Administration from the University of Mobile. I live in the Deep South where I stay busy running my two children to way too many activities. In addition to writing, I work as a pageant coach of twenty years, professional emcee and model, dance choreographer, and certified Miss America preliminary judge. I guess my claim to fame is being a former Miss University of Alabama and NASCAR spokesmodel. I’m addicted to GCB, Castle & Revenge and work out religiously to compensate for my addiction to sweets.
      I enjoy playing pool, tennis & golf but never have the time so I’m pitiful at all three. I write “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” award winning erotic and spicy mainstream contemporary romances. My debut CAN’T FAKE THIS was named 2011 Best Contemporary at Love Romances Café, winner of the 2012 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, and received a Gold Star from Just Erotic Romance Reviews. I’m also a  Twitter caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow junkie.

Naughty Reader’s:  Wow! What made you want to become a writer?

Casey:  In high school and college, I only read text books. I was a bit of a nerd. Okay, that’s a lie. I was a big nerd so I didn’t even get started on romance until I was twenty-five. Oddly enough, my mom, an avid reader of all romance genres first encouraged me to write. About the time I started thinking, “I could do this,” she said, “You’ve always been good at writing school papers. You should try this.” Thank goodness, too, because I love it and turned the hobby turned into a serious career when I joined RWA in 2009.

Naughty Reader’s: We love the cover! Congratulations on that! Please share a bit about your new release DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE without giving away any spoilers.

Casey:  Southern belle Campbell Layne is the rising star of the Manhattan Ballet Theatre, providing she lands the upcoming principal role. The stage heats up, however, when Rod Carrington steps in and teaches her more than she ever expected.

     Campbell is determined to stay focused on the audition that will push her into stardom, but the dazzling attorney she meets at a gala proves to be a major distraction especially when he ends up being her professor in a college class she’s taking in her spare time. Campbell humiliates herself on their first date, but that doesn’t stop Rod from whisking her off to Italy and turning her into quite the vixen. Too bad he also had to use his powerful influence to secure the lead for her. Now she’ll never know if her talent was real or “bought” by the man she thought was the love of her life.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you write under a pen name?

Casey:  Casey Crow

Naughty Reader’s: What types of hero or heroine do you like best?

Casey:  My tagline is “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” and my heroines are just that. I love a strong female who knows what she wants and goes after it.

    As far as heroes go, I like cocky, redeemable bad boys. I mean, really? Who doesn’t?

Naughty Reader’s:  Those definitely are the best kind! Tell us about a typical day in your life as a writer.

Casey:  I’m a work-out fanatic so I go to the gym after dropping my kids off at school. Then I come home to write, edit, return messages, or promote until it’s time to pick them up. I’m in “mom mode” until their bedtime. After that, I’m back at work, usually staying up really late. I write or do some form of “book work” every day. This is my job, and I treat it as such. I don’t get much done on the weekends because I’m normally busy with my other job as a pageant coach.  

Naughty Reader’s:  Do your books have a common theme or are they all different?

Casey: I recently had an interviewer ask me what was my recurring theme? I’d never thought about it, but after five manuscripts, I realized the one aspect of me that parlays into my heroines is they are the kind of girls that can wine and dine at a five-star restaurant one night and the next be just as comfortable drinking beer at a bon fire. It’s the best of both worlds and represents a true Southern Belle.

Naughty Reader’s: And they all have class! How long does it take you to write and then edit a story?

Casey:  I have no idea! Seriously, I’ve written a book in three weeks and another in three years. Based on my daily goal count, three months is a good number. Unfortunately, I’m quite meticulous and it takes me a while to edit, usually two weeks to a month.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you have to be alone to write?

Casey:  I prefer to be alone and in complete silence, but I don’t always that with kids around! If they are making too much noise, I’ll plug into my ipod.

Naughty Reader’s: How do you go about naming characters?

Casey:  I’m really bad about using relatives’ names! But alas, I’m running out of cousins. My kids love helping me come up with names, too. And sometimes, they just come to me. I also keep a running list of names I hear that I like and might use one day.

Naughty Reader’s: Is it easier to write about the characters if you find pictures of them before you write or do you write then find character pictures?

Casey:  I write first. Normally, I don’t use a picture at all other than what’s in my head, but even then the image is based on a celebrity or a combo of real people.

Naughty Reader’s: How do you pick locations for your stories?

Casey:  My heroines’ jobs tend to pick the settings. For example, in DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE, Campbell is a dancer at the Manhattan Ballet Theatre so the story takes place in New York City (with a holiday weekend in Bellagio, Italy). My other projects are all set in the South, however, but even DWAM has a strong Southern flavor. Here are a few excerpts for you with the second being a bit more x-rated than the first...just sayin'!

Excerpt 1:

     “Thank you for attending the performance and for your generous donation to MBT.” His dark eyebrows shot up a notch, highlighting a definite mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Why did they have to be the exact shade of turquoise as the Caribbean Ocean at sunset? Stunning.

     “That’s well-rehearsed, Miss Layne. Tell me, though, do you turn on the Southern belle charm for all your fans or only the male ones?”

     Her mouth fell open, but thank goodness she had the presence of mind to snap it shut. “How dare you? First of all, I’m from Alabama which makes the accent genuine, and secondly, that’s…that’s the rudest, most ungentlemanly thing to say.”

     “I never said I was a gentleman and readily admit to be undeserving of your sweet façade. I’d much prefer the real you.”

     She propped her hands on her hips. “And precisely what, may I ask, do you assume to be the real me, seeing as our acquaintance has a life span of what? Thirty seconds?”

     Rod glanced at an expensive-looking gold watch. “Forty-five.” He stepped closer.

     She did not see that coming and stumbled back only to become trapped between the wall and his body. The hard, cold stone competed against his warm, harder presence. Damn it, the latter won out. She ground her traitorous fingertips into her palms in an effort to prevent them from brushing away the stray curl that fell across his forehead.

     The hem of his jacket brushed her hip as he moved in to splay his hand over her waist. The pressure built as he gathered her an inch closer. She caught a faint whiff of his cologne. The clean, fresh scent permeated the air and reminded her of the Southern pines back home, but this was not the time to reminisce.

     “In fact, I’d like to get to know every inch of you.” Another sharp tug had her chest pressed against his rock solid form.

     Her blood boiled in a delicious rhythm. Obviously, the vibrator thing was getting old if this jerk was turning her on. She made a mental note to ask her best friend, Heidi, to set her up on a date. Any man would do—as long as it was not Rod.

     She flexed her fingers and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go of me, you arrogant pig.” A lion, cougar, leopard—anything powerful—seemed a more apt description though.

     Rod chuckled and loosened his hold. A fraction. Enough to insert his finger between them. It followed the line of fabric at her shoulder slowly, very slowly, across her chest. As he glided over her cleavage, he said, “But, my dear, you’re mistaken. It’s confidence I possess.”

     “More like cockiness.” Even as she said it, Bella couldn’t take her gaze off his finger or steer her attention from the intense hunger  sweeping through her. She instinctively arched her back, lifting her breasts to silently beg for more.

     “Either way, but I always get what I want, and in case you need me to spell it out”—he slid his finger up her throat to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him—“I. Want. You.”

     He uttered the words with such conviction, her breath hitched. No, stopped. She literally thought she might pass out. Swoon, like one of those Regency ladies she’d thought of a moment ago, only she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

     Feigning haughty sophistication was not in her repertoire, but there was a first time for everything. She raised a brow and allowed her gaze to wander his body as he’d done to her. The black tux cut a dashing figure, making her mouth water for a taste of what lay beneath. She imagined herself undoing each of the black buttons on his starched, white shirt. His bowtie was a little askew. She reached to straighten it, brushing against his neck. She heard his breathing deepen, sensed, rather than saw, the quickening of his jaw. She inwardly smiled and wiggled her toes in a victory dance, but those stupid, treacherous fingers battled back, wanting to still the muscle with a gentle caress. She balled her fists in reprimand, uncaring that her short nails dug into her palms.

     When she reintroduced her eyes to his, she shot him what she hoped was a contemptuous glare. “Take your hand off me,” she said slowly and deliberately. She made a dramatic showing of enclosing her fingers, one at a time, around his wrist and tugged his finger away from her boobs.

     Nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. He managed to do that trick when one eyebrow lifts higher than the other.

     She sighed loudly and exceedingly unladylike. Then she pulled. Hard.

     Finally, he broke contact by approximately six inches when twelve would have been much closer to the acceptable personal space limit. Too late to hide her puckered nipples, she still folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot in perfect tempo with her index finger. “An apology would be appropriate at this time.”

     “Ah, but then I’d have to, in fact, be sorry.”

     He said that? Seriously? She just stood there, gaping. It would’ve been so nice to find the words, any words to speak, but nope. A boa constrictor squeezed her throat.

     “What? No response? I assume that negates the possibility of you actually wanting an apology.”

     Again, robbed of speech. She felt like a fool, but her mind remained as blank as the sky on a cloudy night. So much for feigning haughty sophistication.

     “Um…” Jackpot! At last. Okay, it wasn’t a three-point goal in the final seconds of the game, but her voice hit a few decibels nevertheless.

     Rod’s deep chuckle reverberated throughout the alcove as he captured both of her shoulders. He laughed at her. Worse, he was going to kiss her. She knew it. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. A complete stranger. Well, not completely, she knew his name at least. Knowing the first name made it all right, didn’t it?

     Lord, what am I thinking? She did not go around kissing strangers. Hell, she didn’t go around kissing people she knew. What would her mama think? She’d die of shame, that’s what.

     But heaven knew she wanted to taste those beautiful, full lips. She purely ached to run her fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair and slide her hands inside his coat to see if his abs were as hard as she imagined they would be. She closed her eyes and barely swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before licking her lips, preparing for the inevitable.

Warning - Rated Excerpt:

 

     “Bel-la.” Rod gathered her tighter and simply hugged her, burying his face in her hair.

      For a second, the world stopped and her heart melted as he pressed his chest into hers. His woodsy, clean scent blended with the lemony smell of his starched shirt. She heard him inhale deeply, and the loneliness over the past few weeks faded away. Spreading her fingers wide, she slid them into the softness of his hair before gliding down to knead the muscles of his upper back.

      “You’re tense.”

      “I’m sexually frustrated.” His mouth found her earlobe. The metal on her earring clanked against his teeth. She let out a low chuckle.

      “Me, too.”

      “You smell like lavender and vanilla and taste cinnamony and sweet.”

      “Then eat me up.”

      “I intend to.” His palm slipped to her breast, giving it a firm squeeze before rubbing her nipple through the coat.

      The satin lining stimulated her nipples further. “Hmm,” she moaned as her head fell back, and she arched into his hand. Rod granted her silent request, tugging at the knot at her waist and pushing the coat off her shoulders. His eyebrows shot up at seeing her unclothed. A large grin stretched across his beautiful mouth, his lips full and moist from kissing her.

      “Come to my office and sit on my lap anytime.” He bent to lick a nipple.

       She dug her nails into his back. “Yes, darlin’.”

      “Patience, princess.” His tongue twirled around her areola as he squeezed her other breast. Switching his lips to it, he sucked the entire thing into this mouth.

      His cock rubbed against her inner thigh, teasing her pussy with its nearness. Shifting her weight, she rotated her hips so his dick touched her clit. She was dying to have his long, hot, velvety dick deep inside her, stretching her wide. Her juices dripped in anticipation. “More,” she said, hoping to hurry him up. He groaned his approval and slid his fingers to her pussy, parting the folds, and rolling her clit back and forth with the tip of his finger. Sensations exploded, shattering her composure into a million pieces then melting them into a warm, liquid pool of satisfaction that heated her skin. Every nerve ending, every cell seemed attuned to his touch.

      She moaned so loudly he raised a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Her response was to take it into her mouth and suck. God, she’d never felt such abandonment, such freedom at acting like a—what was the word? Siren. Yes, Campbell had discovered a side of herself she’d never known existed. Rod had coaxed a bit out in Italy, but now she felt all her inhibitions slip away. She wanted to show him that she was as wild and sexy as his other women.

      Her fingers worked in desperate, quick movements to loosen his tie and undo his buttons. She pulled the shirt from his pants, spread the material, and dipped her head to taste his nipples. When she began to unbuckle his belt, he stilled her.

      “Tell me you’re kidding.”

      “It’s my turn, you seductive minx.” He reached behind her and sent papers flying to the floor. Circling his hands around her hips, he lifted her onto the desk.

      Raising her foot to his chest, she lightly speared him in the heart with her stiletto. He grabbed her ankle and deposited her foot on the arm of his massive leather chair. He did the same with her other leg then, running his hands from her calves to her knees, he pushed her legs wide. And feasted.

      “Rod!” she gasped when his tongue made one long lick up her slit.

      “Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.” He spread her folds with his fingers as his tongue streaked over her nub. “Hmm. You taste good. Always wondered what a girl raised on Southern sunshine would taste like.” He kissed her inner thigh and went back to licking her clit.

      “Yes! Oh God, yes!”

       He made a hushing sound.

      “I can’t help it,” she whimpered. Asking her to be quiet was like telling her to go catch some minnows by hand.

      His tongue lapped and brushed her sensitive spot, sending her into a spiraling need. She grabbed a handful of his hair, pressing his face harder into her pussy. He slipped his tongue into her hole. Her head spun, but he gave her no mercy as he pulled out to suck a pussy lip.

      He tugged, gently scraping his teeth over it then making a smacking sound as he released it. “So long,” he mumbled before pulling the other into his mouth and repeating the exquisite procedure.  Rod slipped his thumb into her hole, rotating his wrist as he pumped her. His tongue returned to her clit, jiggling it back and forth. Her legs quivered and threatened to slip off the chair. She draped them over his shoulders. He stuck a hand under her ass and lifted her hips off the desk. Campbell crossed her ankles, trapping him between her legs and gyrating her hips as fulfillment closed in.

     “Please, darlin’. Make me c–come,” she begged between pants.

      He sucked like nobody’s business and swallowed her passion as she came fast. Rod reached to cover her mouth with his hand as she screamed and shuddered violently. He continued to lap up her pussy juices.

     Holy fuck. Campbell thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

     As her contractions slowed, he stood, causing her legs to straighten against the length of his body. He got his pants off enough for his cock to spring free. Positioning the head at her entrance, he plunged deep.

     She watched him bite his lip. “Not so easy to keep quiet, is it?”

 

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DWAM BUY NOW

DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE EXCERPTS

2011 LRC Best Contemporary & 2012 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Winner CAN’T FAKE THIS buy Kindle version on Amazon and all versions at Loose, Id. 

CAN’T FAKE THIS Excerpt

CAN’T FAKE THIS book trailer

Contest:  Casey is giving away an ebook copy of DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE to one lucky commenter on May 6th. Be sure to leave your email addy so she can contact the winner.

 
Thank you all for stopping in and good luck to everyone in the contest!