Welcome Eva Lefoy & The Trouble With Memories

In space, nobody can hear you come!

Or can they? I guess it depends on how thick the walls are. Even on a military base the quarters are likely pretty close. On a tin bucket flying through space? Even closer. So what’s a girl to do?

For Lucy Borasco, what she wants is her ex-boyfriend back. Captain Cal Sykes threw her over to focus on his career and she’s fed up with being #2. Yep, even in space women have it rough. But she’s kind of hung up on Cal. I mean, they’re perfect for each other. Or are they?

Could there be someone better out there for Lucy than Cal? Let’s look at the options:

1. She could date another hotshot space pilot, to which she’d probably say, fragging comet tails!
2. She could date an alien species. Maybe one with tentacles that could feel her up in all the right places at the same time. Hmmm…. This has possibilities!
3. She could take a Martian lover. What’s that? Martians are extinct? Tell that to the Martians, honey.

The Martians are back and they’re horny as hell!

I think Lucy would be a good match with a Martian male. Not only do they require lots of sex, but they can handle a hot head. Conversely, Lucy is about the only person who can handle them. Which is good since she ends up permanently intertwined with one:

My blood is green. Say it. Think it. Join with me.

The voice grew louder and her head spun, dizziness taking over. I’m hallucinating. I must have lost a lot of blood. But she didn’t feel wet. Just cold. Empty. “Am I bleeding, Fennik?”

“Not on the outside. The damage is internal.” He touched her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s pretty bad. Are you in much pain? I can see if there’s a hypo in the med kit to make you comfortable.”

Her hands twitched. Restless legs wanted to move, but her body did not obey. Frustrated, she wanted to scream. I have to find Cal.

“Lucy, lie still.”

“I don’t want to.” Fennik looked at her sadly, like he wanted to cry. The truth hit her. “Wait. Am I really dying?”

Fennik dropped his gaze.

She forced a swallow, blinking back tears. “No. I can’t die like this. I can’t leave Cal.”

My blood is green. Our blood is green. Say it Lucy…. We can be one. We can live.

Eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched, she hissed through her teeth. “Okay, okay, my blood is green. Happy now?”

“Lucy? Are you all right?”

Her limbs jerked and went stiff. Unable to move or breathe or speak, her body froze. This time, she wasn’t afraid. This time the power inside her swelled, surging through her veins. Inside, she smiled.

“Lucy. Can you hear me? Lucy?” He shook her gently, then sighed and closed her eyes. “Shrinking quarks, Cal’s gonna freak when he finds out.”

Oh yes, he is.

Here’s more about Cal and Lucy’s story:

                                              

Helium toads!

Lieutenant Lucy Borasco has her phase pistol ready and her ex-boyfriend in her sights. She has every intention of making him pay for choosing his career over her. But she hadn’t factored in a Martian sneak invasion, Cal’s incessant need to save the universe, or the risk of permanent damage to her complexion. Getting Cal back will cost her more than she thinks, leaving her changed forever.

Captain California Sykes’ memories are gone, his career is in ruins, and his ex-girlfriend nearly kills him with a kiss. Can he overcome the Martian invasion, save the rest of the team and win Lucy back again in the process? Or will his seat-of-the-pants plans and the canned fish rations cost him everything he holds dear, including his sanity?

Find out in The Trouble With Memories.

Thanks for having me here today!

 ~ Eva

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Decadent  l  Amazon  l  Amazon.UK  l  AReCafe  l 

Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.

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Tasty Tuesday - The Unescpected Spicey Sweet with Eva Lefoy

Welcome special guest, Eva Lefoy today!

Have you met Putting Up With the Turnbulls yet? If you’re at all into “putting food by” as they say, or aka: canning such as jam, jelly, etc. you might want to check out their blog. They’ve got some stuff on there that’s simply delish!

I’ve made the Beer Jelly and quite liked it, but it’s the Tomato Jam that’s flying off my shelf. *gives little sister the stink-eye* Good thing I’m getting very adept at making it. Bad thing – I’m out of tomatoes!

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that when I think of tomatoes and the word canned together I tend to think of canned whole tomatoes or tomato paste. At the very least prepared spaghetti sauce or salsa. But this little gem of recipe is none of those things. It’s guaranteed to take your tastebuds for a different kind of ride.

Take a look:
5 Pounds of tomatoes – small amount, but remember this is jam. Can’t make good jam in big batches. 3.5 cups of sugar
8 tbs lime juice
2 tsp freshly grated ginger – note: I cheat and used dried ground and double it
1 tsp cinnamon – I double this too
½ tsp ground clove
1 tbs salt
1 tbs red chili flakes

How does it look? You’ve got sugar and tomatoes which one doesn’t normally think of together. And you’ve got all those interesting spices that almost make it sound like Greek meatballs you’ve got cooking and not jam. The red pepper flakes add just the right kick to take this from sweet to savory.
If you’re interested give it a try! You won’t be disappointed.

And speaking of spices, I mentioned Greek food and you’ll find a lot of cinnamon and such in meat dishes from that country. Also, the array of spices in Indian cooking is similar – a little hot, a little sweet. I happen to like Indian food quite a bit. Perhaps that’s why I wrote my very first 1 Night Stand for Decadent Publishing set in India!

While there’s only a quick passing mention of curry in the text, there’s a lot of hotness and a lot of sweet between two sexy men. The book will be out --- soonish (bows to 1NS book gods) ---- but in the meantime, here’s the cover:

Now if that isn’t hot and sweet I don’t know what is!

Thanks, Mary for hosting me. And y’all come visit her on my site where she’s talking about her 1 Night Stand story, Handcuffs and Silk, which has a gorgeous cover by the way!

Thanks for reading and I hope some of you try the jam! Books and jam are two things one can rarely regret!

~ Eva

By the way there’s a giveaway going on at Decadent Publishing to celebrate the 1 Night Stand 200th book. Enter here

Bio: Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.

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My current book out with Decadent Publishing is Sweet Cravings and it’s a foodie romance available here: Decadent Publishing / Amazon U.S. / Amazon UK / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

Tasty Tuesday with a Teaser - Cream Puffs from Eva Lefoy

Desserts and hot chefs go together!

When I wrote a hot dessert chef, I had to pair him with a woman who liked desserts. After all, a vegetarian and a butcher just don’t go together  :)  So I came up with a woman called Violet Cunningham. She not only likes desserts, she has a favorite one: raspberry cream puffs.

Now, cream puffs aren’t that hard to make, as I later discovered after the writing group took me under their wing and into the kitchen.  Since I’m not really an ardent baker – I make really good brownies, but don’t do the fancy stuff – I thought there must be some trick to them. There’s not. Especially if you’ve got a good hand mixer!

Here’s the tried-and-true ancient Betty Crocker recipe we made:

1 C water

1/2 C butter

1 C flour

4 Eggs

Filling – whipped cream, etc.

Confectioner’s sugar

Heat oven to 400. Heat water and butter to a boil. Stir in flour. Stir vigorously over low heat about 1 minute or until mixture forms a ball. * Note: I took the pan off the heat and used a mixer to do this. Much easier! * Remove from heat. Beat in eggs all at once, continue beating until smooth. *Note: again, I found the hand mixer indispensable! * Drop dough by scan 1/4 cup fulls 3″ apart on ungreased backing sheet. Bake 35 to 40 minutes or until puffed and golden.  Cool away from draft.

Pull out any filaments of soft dough. Carefully fill with whipped cream. Replace tops; dust with confectioners’ sugar. Refrigerate.

 Be careful – they don’t last long!

There’s another recipe in the back of my book, Sweet Cravings, out now from Decadent Publishing and below is an excerpt that should get your whipped cream whipping.

Excerpt:

I ducked into the kitchen before the bored-looking maître d’ could accost me and found myself heating up at the sight of a stainless steel table. Sous-chefs in white hats and dishwashers with racks of clean plates bustled back and forth down the aisle in front of me, but I didn’t spot the pastry chef in their midst. I almost gave up and left before noticing the light was on in the “secret kitchen.” I gulped.

My knees went weak, and I stood frozen to the spot. Inside me, determination, embarrassment, and heady desire warred. I wanted so bad to turn and walk out, find another caterer, and be done with it. But I couldn’t. There’d be questions. Chuck would want to know why he wasn’t getting the best French-trained chef in town, and I’d be up shit creek without a paddle. What could I say? Sorry, I didn’t mean to have hot, sweaty sex with the guy—if I’d known you’d need him the next week, I would have waited? 

Remembering the hot sex had my traitorous feet moving forward, toward the door instead of away. Wrong direction, I told them. Shut up and go with it, my pussy ordered. I bit my lip, swallowed my pride, and knocked.

The door opened and the man himself appeared wearing a chef’s coat splattered with pretty light pink frosting and powdered sugar. One whiff of him convinced me he’d taste positively delicious. My stomach let out a loud rumble, and I put my hand over it to try and squelch the embarrassing sound. 

His mouth fell open when he caught sight of me. In fact, he seemed kind of stunned for a second. My fight-or-flight response kicked in. I swiveled on my heel, but he grabbed my elbow and tugged me inside his secret domain once more. “Mademoiselle,” he murmured low and rich as fudge pudding. “How nice to see you again. Please, come in.” 

I glanced at his face from under my lashes and found him smiling at me, looking as though he might actually be glad to see me again. Part of me stiffened, vibrating with nervous energy. The rest of me tingled in saucy anticipation. The promise of man and dessert made one once more for my licking pleasure had me close to giggling with happiness as the door snicked shut. As he twirled me in his arms and drew me close, the all-important notes clutched in my hand could have jumped a shuttle for Mars for all I cared. 

His mouth surged over mine, his lips warm, wet, and insistent, as though he needed to make up for lost time. I heartily seconded the sentiment, and the kiss turned from buttery hot and soft to spicy and decadent with a touch of dare.

I opened my mouth to let his tongue in, and we both moaned at the intrusion, his hips bucking against mine as he pressed my butt into the table. I clutched his shoulders, pulling him closer as my initial embarrassment waned. He tasted of sweet pastry, and I savored the flavor as I relaxed in his arms. God, the hungers the man awoke in me with just one kiss! 

I’d dressed “professionally” for the occasion—stockings, skirt, silk work blouse, light blazer, and heels—so it wasn’t a surprise to feel the heat of his hand brush along the smooth stocking covering my thigh. But I let out a yelp as his strong fingers ripped through the material and pushed the stocking aside, delving under the crotch of my panties, headed directly toward my wetness.

“Spread for me,” he growled.

My sex clenched but my tremulous legs parted, obeying his command to give him easy access. Long, thick fingers slid through my dampness until they were coated with my slick cream before plunging inside my wet core. I moaned into his kiss at the glorious pressure and he chuckled. His other arm held me close as his mouth continued to plunder mine, setting up a tantalizing rhythm with his tongue and his fingers that my body could not ignore. My head rolled back and my hips rocked into his thrusts. I emitted soft, mewling cries every time his cock ground against my clit. It felt so good I thought I’d died and gone to pink frosting heaven. “Oh, God. Please. Just a little more….”

He quickly upped his game, nibbling down the column of my neck and then moving his fingers up to my clit, circling it with my own slippery juices until I was on the brink of breaking apart and screaming my head off. Then he abruptly pulled his hand away. “Dinner.”

“W-what?” Every brain cell in my mind struggled to comprehend the concept of language. It seemed so foreign, so far away, so unnecessary. My hot button throbbed with frustration. I’d been so close….

“Dinner. Have dinner with me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

I panted, trying to form words. No matter how I rocked my hips, he remained just out of reach from where I needed him most. My fingers dug into his back, silently demanding satisfaction. But he gave me none.

“Say yes,” he commanded. “Or this ends here. Now.”

His demand seemed simple enough and since agreeing would get me everything I so badly wanted I said, “Yes.”

 

***

See what else Violet and her sexy chef Max do in his secret kitchen, and if you have time, whip up a batch of cream puffs to eat while you read! 

 

Enjoy!

~ Eva Lefoy

 

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