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?”
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!
Vallory: I’ve been
married for seventeen years and I’m a mom to three great kids. In my spare
time, I’m a family historian and have traced one branch of my family back to a
fourteen year old girl named Hager brought to the Mississippi Territory
by the Spanish in 1790.
