Wednesday, March 11, 2009


It's time to celebrate with a new Pam Champagne novel!

ALASKAN HEAT released yesterday from Samhain Publishing . If you're not familiar with the sexy suspense of Pam Champagne you really need to checkout her website and books. This fine author is phenominal at weaving a story that will have you panting for more.

Pam lives in on 25 rural acres in northwestern Maine with her husband, two Siamese cats and a black Lab. By day she works in Bangor, Maine as a legal secretary.

Other than writing, Pam enjoys the outdoors, hunting, fishing and just being outdoors. Each year she promises to maintain her perennials and a huge vegetable garden, but somehow they always manage to get away from her.

God blessed her with two beautiful children and two granddaughters.

Pam writes, hot romantic suspense novels and is currently branching into short stories and novellas.





She’ll make him finish what he started—if they live through the night.

Framed and on the run, FBI agent Joe “Hawk” Hawkins has only one chance to clear his name: hit the road for Eagle, Alaska. Things can’t get much worse, until a woman from his past steps into his path. Sophie’s a brilliant statistician, pissed off about their disastrous one-night stand—and offering him a deal.

This is Sophie’s first field assignment, and the fact that it involves Hawk doesn’t make it any easier. She’s never forgotten or forgiven the night Hawk found his way to her bed and left her wanting more. Now she’s on a double mission to make Hawk finish what he started, and get them both to Eagle alive.

The long Alaska Highway stretches before them, and long nights of sexual fireworks that rival the Northern Lights. Caution turns to trust, and then to a love neither of them bargained for.

With two rogue agents in hot pursuit, though, the end of the road may be closer than they think…


By the time Sophie turned into the dirt parking lot of a country general store claiming to have everything a person needed, from wedding gowns to worms, the temperature had risen to a mild seventy-five, or so read the old thermometer hanging on the loose clapboards. She peeled off her sweater and tossed it behind the seat.

“This is it?”

She controlled the urge to snap at Hawk. What reason did he have to sound so cranky? “What do you mean?”

He waved his hand toward the store. “You call this a store? I believe you said the place had everything. I can’t believe this.”

The accusation in his tone pissed her off. “What did you expect? A super Wal-Mart? We’re approaching the Yukon Territories. There are no big cities.” Disgusted, she climbed out, slammed the door and strode toward the store, not caring if he followed or not.

Hawk made it to the door before her and held it open. Like the gentleman he wasn’t. Sophie breezed by without a glance and headed straight to the meat section. Having been in most of the stores on the highway, she wasn’t surprised at the lack of good quality food. Today the hamburger looked fresh, as did the steak. The chicken and the package labeled pork chops looked questionable. They’d be eating beef for awhile.

Next she grabbed a bag of wilted spinach and a bunch of yellowed broccoli, shaking her head at what passed as fresh vegetables. Two loaves of bread added to her pile, and she was ready to check out.

Where the hell was Hawk? The man had been a thorn in her side since he woke this morning. Sophie found him looking at deodorant. “It’s not as if you have a million choices. Pick one and let’s get on the road.”

Hawk frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

Huh? He was the one who got up on the wrong side of the bed. Then again… “I’m short of patience this morning.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I ordered a couple of Italians at the deli. They should be ready.”

“Fine. Get them and let’s get back on the road.”

Hawk’s smile warmed his eyes along with her insides. “I’m right behind you. I’ve got to get one more thing.”

The young store clerk had almost finished ringing up her items when Hawk arrived with his deodorant, the sandwiches, a bag of chips and a bag of limp carrots with roots growing out of their entire length.

He handed the bag to the young kid. “For the bunny.”

Sophie’s skull near exploded. How dare he?

The clerk jumped right in. “You have rabbits? My family raises them…to eat. They taste like chicken, you know.”

Hawk laughed. “We’ve just got one. Cute little thing. I might have to start looking at her as a meal.”

Sophie dug her nails into his arm. “That’s what you think.”

“Ouch,” Hawk said and moved out of her reach.

The clerk chuckled, bagged their items and nodded at Hawk. “You’d better watch it. Sounds like the little bunny means a lot to your lady.”

“Yeah, we’re both attached to Furry. She’s so warm and cuddly. Why just last night—”

Sophie grabbed her bag. “I’ll be in the truck.”

She turned on heel and took a step. His voice stopped her cold. “Sophie? I don’t have any money.”

Breathing fire, Sophie stalked to the register haphazardly pulling money from her purse along the way. She slapped a handful of bills in Hawk’s hand. “Here.” The warm smile along with the twinkle in his eyes got her toes tingling, but she forced herself to turn back the way she’d come.

She never made it to the door. It wasn’t the man dressed in the red and black plaid shirt and green wool pants peering at a bulletin board that raised the alarm. Neither was it the rancid body odor emanating from his person. Nor was it Hawk’s picture on a wanted poster that freaked her out. The smelly Neanderthal sneaking covert looks between Hawk and his picture made her skin crawl.

How the hell had this happened? She refused to consider this was Stan’s doing. That left Reed and Blair. They must have printed an official-looking FBI wanted poster. She noticed the number to call was not an FBI hotline, or at least not one she was familiar with. Was Hawk’s image in every store between here and Alaska? A chill rattled down her spine. Had the poster been here when they’d come in. Surely, she’d have seen it. Were the two rogue agents lurking outside? Waiting for the opportunity to nab Hawk?

Even though Hawk’s face was smooth and clean shaven in the photograph, he was easily recognizable. Those damn whiskey colored eyes.

Before Sophie could react, an overweight woman wearing a sweatshirt sporting a colorful tied fishing fly with the slogan Check your Fly showed up behind the guy. “Move it, Everett. I wanna fish today, not tomorrow.”

Everett glanced in Sophie’s direction. She pretended interest in the magazines precariously perched on an old, teetering steel rack. He dragged the woman to his side, his wide grin revealing toothless gums. Then he whispered loud enough for anyone within ten feet to hear, “Look at this, Mel!” His finger jabbed the poster. “FBI’s offering a $20,000 reward for this dude.” His voice rose with excitement. “And guess what? He’s standing right over there.” With all the finesse of an orangutan, he lifted an arm and pointed it at Hawk still chatting with the young kid behind the counter.


ALASKAN HEAT is a must read. Hawk and Sophie are my type of tough/tender characters. They face danger head on and know how to make good use of their bedroom time.

Be sure to Visit Pam's website to read excerpts from her other popular novels.

I'll be back next week. Until then...

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell

Tuesday, March 10, 2009




Photojournalist Emily Peters is in Paris when the opportunity to expose an infamous sex club sets her on fire. She never expects to be tied up in knots by the Devil.

Restaurateur Nicholas Caine prefers an inconspicuous lifestyle, but when a sex goddess enters his lair there’s only one thing he can do…take her.


Her nose twitched as a subtle, yet pleasant, aroma surrounded her.

“It is pear, Madam.”

Another tall handsome waiter, looking good enough to eat, stood at her side and without a word slid a menu in front of her. She glanced up into large chocolate eyes and her heart stuttered.

“Pardon?” Her voice came out on a whoosh of air.

“I noticed your attempt to distinguish the scent.” He waved a large hand in the air. “Many of our ladies have had your same reaction.”

She cleared her throat. “Delightful.”

“At times, late in the evening, the air is infused with a hint of cinnamon and chocolate.” His eyes twinkled as if he were sharing a dark secret. “Tempts one to indulge in a decadent dessert. Would you care for one, Ms Peters?”

A shiver weaved its way up her spine when he said her name. With shaking fingers, she took a gulp of ice water, ordering her oversexed body to behave.

“If nothing on the menu appeals to you, Chef Claude would be elated to whip up whatever you prefer.”

British and gorgeous. And then it sunk in. Chef Claude.

“Is he Claude St. Cyr? The same chef who owns a cooking school?”

The waiter from every woman’s fantasy grinned. “One in the same.”

Now what the hell is he doing in a place like this?

“Ms Peters?” He tapped a well-groomed fingernail on the menu.

“What? Oh yes.” She flipped open the leather jacket to scan the tasty treats, her one downfall. The card read like an international list of culinary sexual pleasures.

Spotted Dick presented by Jon

Bavarian Cream presented by Hans

Hot Soufflé presented by Francois

Mocha Butter presented by Motumba

Emily slipped the cap off her lipstick tube, then did an unhurried swipe along her bottom lip, wondering just how far the presenters would go.

“Do you see anything you like?” His deep voice played havoc with her senses as she squirmed in her damp panties.

“Too bad you don’t offer Cumberland Rum Nicky. I enjoyed it at a restaurant in London a few years ago. Never found it again.” His tanned face paled as if she’d requested to borrow The Crown Jewels.

“Perhaps a dish of Whim Wham?”

“No thanks, I’m fanciful enough.” She laughed at her little joke about the true meaning of the Scottish pie. “I’d really like a Benedictine straight up and a cup of black coffee.”

He nodded and walked toward the bar area.

Of all the waitstaff Emily had encountered or seen during her two hours over dinner, this last was the paix de la résistance. Sable brown hair caressed his white shirt collar. She’d give anything to run her fingers through the thick waves.

The Reverend and ladies met with her lickable waiter at the doorway. He stood to the side, gesturing for them to go first. The tallest of the women stopped and started up a conversation, but he backed away the moment she ran her fingers along his jaw line.

Seems like the help gets to play with the clientele.

Emily pulled the cap off her lipstick tube.

Smile, I think you’re going to like this one.


This is a bit different than the norm and quite frankly I adored it. I wasn't too sure of how it ended until I realized it left the perfect opportunity for another wow part (hint, hint). The woman was just the way I like to read them; strong, intelligent, yet at the same time vulnerable, while the male was assertive, smart, and able to be tender at the same time. It was a mix made in heaven (and the mind of a talented writer) which is easily one to read over and over.

Posted by reviewer: WitchGiggles

You can read the complete review at Alternative-Read.


Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell