Wednesday, June 30, 2010


at my new soon to be released from Amber Quill Press - Amber Heat? Well, here it is!

Trace Edward Zaber is the cover artist and has outdone himself with this beauty.:)

Below are the unedited blurb and excerpt to tempt you. Enjoy!

Battered hockey player Colt Coltrane arrives in Sweden with one thing on his mind – victory. A bad spill later he’s at the tender mercies of the hottest masseuse he’s ever seen. All his good intentions go straight to hell when he strips for the Swedish iceberg.

Disa Ellstrom has had it with sports figures who always expect more from her than a massage. She can’t believe her friend Carl sent the American goalie to her. Unable to ignore the man’s pain, Disa takes him on and finds her heart melting faster than a spring thaw.

Combine a hot-blooded American and a Swedish spitfire and they’re sure to set Stockholm on fire.

Colt stood on the pavement, eyeing the flat front of the narrow rose colored building, and checked the gold lettering against the business card. It was the right location, but his gut told him this was a big mistake. Sex was great, but not when you ached with every movement or had to pay for it.

A brass bell tinkled when the glass door glided across the asphalt tiles. Easier to hose the joint down after a busy night. Colt smirked and walked further into the Pepto Bismol explosion in every shade of pink even his nutty sisters would gag over.

“Anyone here?” Silence answered. He stared at the two closed doors and remembered Frank Stockton’s story The Lady or the Tiger? and knew, in this place, the tiger was the safer bet.

He shoved open the first door on his left and swallowed hard when the aroma of sweet incense drifted out from the dimly lit room. Or maybe it was the pert little butt sticking up to greet him that caused his reaction. The short skirt skimmed her buff cheeks, minus panties, and his cock shot to life. All pain forgotten, he allowed his eyes to travel down her well toned legs to her impossible-to-walk-in stilettos. The miniature silver loops, accenting the high heels, swayed in time with her tight buns to the sounds of a rock band.

She glanced over her shoulder, a beautiful smile spread her glossy lips, and the ever-helpful Swedish doctor popped into his mind. It puzzled Colt why such a pretty young woman would hang with the old geezer, unless it was for the extra krona needed to survive in this expensive city. Like a puck in sudden death, it hit him. The rotten fuck’s a pimp!

“Du har ett möte?”

Her soft voice sang its way to him and all he could do was nod while he tugged on the front of his jeans.

She stood and walked closer, her ultrathin heels tapping on the speckled tiles. Even though he was well under six feet, it pleased him she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

“You must not be Swedish, so I will ask in English. Do you have an appointment?” Her arched eyebrows furrowed and she toyed with the large pearl in one earlobe. “Please, what is your name?”

“Colt Coltrane, I’m with the Colorado Bannocks, and—”

“Hockey player?”

He nodded, not sure if her squinted eyes were a good thing. Maybe the little doll needed glasses.

“No, no more of you. You are all too much work for too little money.” She waved her hands, shooing him away, her spiky blonde hair quivering with the sharp movements. “Go somewhere else with your pretend man needs. Disa cannot and will not be bothered with you.”

“Look, lady,—” Colt caught her slender wrists in one paw. His grin turned into a broad smile at the little hellcat bossing around a full-grown goalie. “—I’m only here because this guy said you’re the best for what ails me. I don’t need a lot of shit for my money. I just need someone to help me make it through the night.”

Thank you for dropping in today. For my Americans friends, Have a safe and exciting Fourth of July!

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

Happy Writing,

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell

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