The Timeless Desire Collection

Noble Romance's new Timeless Desire collection turns up the heat with a selection of fantastic new titles for every taste. Here's a quick look at what this exciting new line has to offer.

A DANCE WITH BOGIE AND BACALL
by KevaD (sensual romance, ghosts, spirits)

Radio DJ Scott Kincaid's first caller of the night is a lady who died forty-nine years ago. The second wants to knock his head off. And he thought falling in love would be easy.

Maureen and Frank Johnson shared the kind of romance most people believe only exists in movies. Until a ballroom fire took Maureen's life.

Franci Johnson grew up hearing her grandparents' love story a thousand times and wishes to find the kind of undying love Frank and Maureen had once upon a time.

DJ Scott Kincaid just wants the ghost following him to go away. But Maureen thinks the hunky DJ might be just the answer to her granddaughter's dreams.

A DANCE WITH BOGIE AND BACALL: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

A MINUTE AFTER MIDNIGHT
Brita Addams (erotic romance, LGBT, m/m, same sex romance)

A fateful decision haunted Logan Chalmers for years. A high school reunion brings Reid Wright back to the old hometown, but will Reid even remember Logan or has he moved on to the bright future they were to share?

Following the rejection of the man he'd loved for most of his life, Reid moved away to seek his fortune. The hurt and anger allowed him to move on, but years later, only thoughts of Logan could bring him back for the reunion – that, and timeless desire.

A MINUTE AFTER MIDNIGHT: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

AN EVENING AT THE STARLIGHT
Brita Addams (sensual romance, second chances)

John has a hard time forgiving and forgetting, and his wife Christie's tired of trying.

Doe and Royal's love story reaches through the years and gives hope to a young man who's lost hope in his relationship. An Evening at the Starlight and a tale of a once in a lifetime love that wouldn't die might be exactly what John needs to move past the hurt and cherish the love he has.

AN EVENING AT THE STARLIGHT: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

ANCIENT MAGIC
J.S. Wayne (erotic romance, magic)

More than two decades have passed since the Hodans invaded the peaceful kingdom of Jurav. In their zeal for conquest, they have mercilessly rent the Juravian national character asunder, starting with the temples of their gods.

Varath's uncle raised him to one day assume his father's mantle—command warden of the Temple of Noradi, the most beloved goddess of the Juravian pantheon and the deity of heart, hearth, and the fires which burn in both.

Melody would have been High Priestess to Noradi, and her own family has groomed her with equal care against the day when the Hodan hordes will be expelled and she can assume her rightful place as the most powerful figure in the entire nation . . . and as Varath's bride.

When Varath departed to serve in the Hodan army, Melody saw it as an unconscionable betrayal. Now Varath has returned to take his father's place as the sole guardian of a temple where no one dares enter, and he has made overtures to claim the other half of his bequest: Melody herself. But can Melody see past the deceptions and lies his rebellion has forced and learn to love the man who seems to have turned his back on his own people?

ANCIENT MAGIC: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

DESIRE DAMNED
KevaD (erotic romance, m/m, military, same sex romance)

Satan wants the warrior Taka to bow before him. But Taka bows to no one except his gentle lover Har.

For thousands of years the two men have been doomed to a life of torment. While one walks the earth, the other suffers under the devil's lash. Their only respite is an occasional night; a random, beautiful, love-filled night, knowing that with the dawn one of them must die in battle and return to Satan's wrath.

On the war-torn fields of Gettysburg, the two lovers are reunited once again. But this time something beyond Hell's reach has happened. Something so wondrous, Satan may finally get his wish.

DESIRE DAMNED: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

FAMILIAR LIGHT
Sarah Ballance (sensual romance, second chances, thriller)

Seven years of longing comes down to just one night.

Laney Kent returns to Barrier Shoals hoping to reunite with her first love, Bridger. She anticipates his reception might be chilly, but what she doesn't expect is to become the victim of a deadly obsession … or that this night with Bridger could be her last.

Bridger Jansen tangled a lot of sheets trying to forget about Laney, but his heart knew what the rest of him refused to admit: he could love no one else. He's determined not to forgive her for leaving him without explanation, but when he fails to protect her from a viscous attack, the person he can't forgive just might be himself.

FAMILIAR LIGHT: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

IMMORTAL
Bryl R. Tyne (erotic romance, LGBT, m/m, same sex relationships)

Found abandoned as a child and taken in by the Nevsky clan, the man Ivis now feels the call of the water, the sea, but Sefton and his family, one of the most influential vampire bloodlines in Russia, isn't about to let Ivis go. As Ivis' powers grow stronger—powers unknown to him—Sefton's instructed to detain Ivis at all costs to tilt in his clan's favor the balance of power in an endless struggle between the Bogdanov water gods and Nevsky vampires. Sefton's left with a choice: power or love. Which is the greater desire?

IMMORTAL: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

LOVE THROUGH TIME
Lucy Felthouse (erotic romance, ghosts, spirits)

Westbury Manor is a stately home with a fascinating past, and when book conservator Emily Stone starts uncovering it, she's startled by what she finds . . . .

Emily arrives at Westbury Manor with a job to do. She's to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressive library, preserving them for future generations. Not long into her stay at the house, she bumps into the night guard, George. She'd expected an old, balding guy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasant surprise. The introductions complete, George leaves Emily in peace to get on with her job. But when a falling photograph sets off a chain reaction of ghostly events, Emily and George are thrown together in order to find out who—or what—is causing them. Their investigation uncovers a tragic past, a lost love, and a stunning secret.

LOVE THROUGH TIME: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

SAVIOR
Jess Anastasi (sensual romance, angels/demons)

Cadmiel, the Angel of Destiny, knows better than anyone does what a bitch fate can be. Five hundred years ago, the only woman he ever loved was killed, shredding his soul and leaving a void in place of his heart. Now Archangel Michael comes to him with a shocking and forbidden proposal. He wants Cadmiel to travel back in time and save Emilyn. Though Cadmiel wishes beyond all reasoning to do as the archangel asks, messing with time goes against his own beliefs and the very foundations of angel lore. But Michael doesn't give Cadmiel a choice and thrusts him through time and space, back to 2012.

The first time Emilyn saw the gorgeous man, she was affected on a level she couldn't comprehend. Cadmiel isn't like any other guy she's ever met, and he makes her wish love at first sight were true. But there are forces at work she never dreamed real. In the space of a day, she goes from normal, every-day college student, to a pawn in an apocalyptic war between angels and demons.

Emilyn's very life is in Cadmiel's hands. Will he risk the future of the entire universe to save her, or let her die and destroy himself in the process?

SAVIOR: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

TIME TO LIVE
H.C. Brown (erotic romance, BDSM, m/m, same sex relationships)

Seth Bannock is living a lie. Nothing in his life is working out. He likes women . . . he respects women . . . but when he tries to kiss a woman and she does that tongue thing, he wants to spew.

Confused by his body's reaction to the men at his gym, Seth seeks help from the only gay club he knows—Floggers. Is the man crazy? Seeking answers, the sweet, vanilla virgin marches into the BDSM club to speak to the owner Rio Knight.

Realization that he has been on the wrong team all his life comes in the form of a six-foot-seven Adonis by the name of Matt Duffey. Instantly attracted to the leather-clad alpha male, Seth must leave his old life behind and embrace his newfound sexuality.

Seth thought his life had complications before he met Matt, but nothing comes close to the rollercoaster ride in the big dom's arms.

TIME TO LIVE: BUY LINK & EXCERPT

Can't decide? Check out the whole collection by clicking here.

Posted by Sarah Ballance, who cordially invites you to subscribe to her blog for a weekly shot at a $10 gift certificate to Noble Romance. To subscribe or for full details, click here.

Timeless Desire Tour: Bryl R. Tyne

  

IMMORTAL by Bryl R. Tyne
Genre: paranormal/fantasy/m/m
Noble Romance Publishing
(c) 2011 Bryl R. Tyne

Blurb: Found abandoned as a child and taken in by the Nevsky clan, the man Ivis now feels the call of the water, the sea, but Sefton and his family, one of the most influential vampire bloodlines in Russia, isn’t about to let Ivis go. As Ivis’s powers grow stronger—powers unknown to him—Sefton’s instructed to detain Ivis at all costs to tilt in his clan’s favor the balance of power in an endless struggle between the Bogdanov water gods and Nevsky vampires. Sefton’s left with a choice: power or love. Which is the greater desire?

(unedited) Excerpt:
At the edge of the great forest, wild fields stretched to the south and to the east, ending as they tapered into a great sea. Though I could see only long grasses to the horizon, rumor spoke of such a place, the place where the Nevsky hunters had found me as a child of four seasons, with not a stitch of clothing or clan to lay claim and the letters IVIS scored across the point where my left collarbone met my shoulder. Few from the nearby village had dared venture out that far since, and those with a will to try had never returned. I dreamt of returning there someday. Though to what, or to whom, or precisely where, I had yet to learn.
“Again, I fear I am losing you, Ivis.” Sefton’s breaths cut cold and hard across the dampness between my shoulders.
Tepid skin graced my lips as I kissed the back of his hand. “Unfortunately, glimpses of my past remain with me to this day, as they should. Should they not?” I asked but got no reply at my back. “I can no more forget them than the sight of my own face in the water.”
But no matter how often I uttered those words, in truth, my past reached no farther than the tip of my nose, for how was it possible a child, no taller than waist high, should remember such places or events . . . or names? It was vain for me to try, but even now, as a young man, I continued to do so. More so, the closer Sefton drew to me for the power, though I knew not this power he claimed to seek . . . but his seeking me out for yet another romp in the forests happened more often than not of late.
“When I am with you, I am alive as never before.” Sefton tugged me against his chest, as he had done each night and many a carefree afternoon for as far back as I could recall. His lips found the juncture at my neck and shoulder, while he fondled me with the most skilled of touches. “You are the very air I breathe.” His words danced across my skin, graceful and confident. With his other hand, he found and teased my entrance, and pushed into me with a whisper, “You are mine, now and for always.”
“Yes.” I barely recognized my own voice under his assault. Yet, I wanted him as totally as he claimed to want me. “Always.”
He stroked my manhood and plowed into me relentlessly, over and again. “Tell me you are mine.”
By the goddess, I wanted to. I wanted nothing more than to accept his invitation to stay forever. But to do so would be a lie.
“Do not speak, my love,” he said, entering me again and again, working himself, faster and faster, until I could not tell where his body ended and mine began. “My love is enough to carry us both.” And he sank his sharp bite into my neck, took from me as much as he gave me elsewhere, and sending me into the bright abyss that only a lover can do.
“Sefton . . . .”
He withdrew his fangs, sealed the tiny wounds with a loving touch of his tongue. My body quivered in his embrace as he brought me back to earth with his sure caress. Yet, I lay there in his arms, fully aware of my plans to leave. How could I tell him that I could not stay, no matter how promising, how tempting . . . how pleasurable his touch.
“I am troubled, not understanding how each time can be better than the last, yet it is a truth I cannot deny,” he said and kissed the top of my head, then my shoulder; his hips pressed firmly to my backside. “Ivis? Promise me. Tell me that every day will be like today only better. Promise to never leave my side.”
His words were at once as a thick plume of smoke, suffocating, no matter how quickly I maneuvered through them. How could he promise me what was not his to give? I removed his less than reassuring arm and pulled myself up to stand. The rocky ground outside our grassy circle of body-warmed foliage stung the soles of my feet. “For the Lady’s sake, I am no Nevsky, and I belong to no one in your villages. To this day, I know not even my family name.” I leaned, one hand clinging, toying with a low-hanging branch. “Until I know who I am, I cannot make such promises. You know that I would die for you if I could.”
I turned and found the ever-present doubt his gaze increasingly held.
“I love you, Sefton Nevsky, like no other. Is knowing that not enough for you?”
For the briefest of seconds, his eyes flashed the color of fresh-spilled blood, and I looked away. He shot to his feet and with a firm grip, carried my face nose to nose with his own in a move that left me panting with fright. Yet I did not retreat, nor show the fear he had instigated and likely craved. Instead, I met his sternness with my own. “You are neither my keeper nor my brother.”
“I am a Nevsky and you—a bastard son found amongst the reeds. Do not push me, lower than low.” He pounded his chest with a knuckled fist. “You will not defy my wishes.”
Against my knotted gut, I stepped around him and retrieved my tunic and breeches. Oxen more stubborn, I had never witnessed in my supposed twenty-some years—I kept that knowledge loosely, also, for I had as much recollection of my true age as I had of the day I was born. Despite Sefton’s stance and his curses to the contrary, I dressed, slipping my tunic over my head. “Your proclaimed ‘two years’ on me makes you no wiser than I, though, with each passing day, you do resemble more and more a donkey’s behind.”
His reaction came swift and sure as he backed me against the nearest stone birch; Sefton tightened his grasp on my tunic with a shove surely meant to meld his fist to my chest. My still-naked buttocks encountered rough bark. His gaze remained locked with mine. “One day”—he wiped the spittle from his bottom lip—”one day I will make you know how infuriating a man you can be, Ivis Bogdanov.”
Sefton’s mouth covered mine, leaving me forgotten moments better used for breathing, but I could no more deny his needs for all the talk in the forest. He pulled away, as breathless as I. “Curse our lives,” he said, grimacing in obvious disgust. “Were I not born the ass that I am—were you . . . had we met under different circumstances—”
“But we have not. That is the hand the Fates have dealt us.”
Sefton pulled me into his arms. “Do not do this. No good can come of your curiosity. Are you so unhappy that I cannot expect you to share this life we have?”
“Life?” I wrenched free, backed out of his embrace. “You call this a life? I roam your fathers’ countryside by day and your castle by night as if in search of something, though I know not what.”
The look Sefton bore frustrated me further.
“You do not understand. I am a man. Do you not see that I have no need to be by your side both day and night? Can you not see your constant concern is smothering? I turn a corner; you are there. I close my eyes only to open them to your face. Is it I you do not trust, or is it yourself?”
Sefton’s steely eyes flared to deep crimson, and in that flash of color, he stood a hair’s breadth before me. “Rue the day I found you among the marshes bordering the eastern fields.” His nostrils flared as he turned away. “I need you beside me, or you would not remain . . . .” His stance turned aloof, and his stare grew cold. “You are no one special. No one would have you but I; no man is as accoutered as I to keep a—a man, such as yourself.”
Heat pooled in my chest, and a chill, the likes of which I had never experienced, consumed my shaking limbs. “A burden you claim, then I fear a burden I shall become.”
“Do not speak the words, Bogdanov”—he bore his elongated teeth in anger, a rarity in my presence—”or feel my wrath!”
In a move unseen, he was upon me, the sting of his bite upon my flesh, and I hardened instantly, despite my struggle.
“Damn you, son of Nevsky.”
But my words came on a fleeting breath, for my body could not mask my desire, and I pressed into his touch, his bite . . . his embrace, wanting him near with the same ferocity I wanted him to stay away, the same longing I had felt the first time we had coupled. And he reciprocated, penetrating my flesh deeper as he rolled his hips, revealing his desire, even as he assuaged his anger with the blood drawn from my shoulder.
“Damn you.”
He pulled away, withdrawing his fangs. His gaze, obscured by a haze of lust, met mine, and it was my blood that trickled from his lips as he said, “Too late.”
His expression told of his pain—decades, centuries, an eternity—for how long, I had no knowledge. So much had passed between us, years of growing—more, I’d grown from boy to man; Sefton had remained as youthful and handsome as ever—still, I knew few details of his life or circumstance. Uneasiness swallowed me whole with one look into his eyes. In spite of his protests to the contrary, I could never be what he desired. It hurt to love him as I did, but it hurt more to know not who I was, where I had come from, to whom I might belong.
“You belong with me, Ivis.” His voice was but a whisper as he wiped the blood from his chin.
“Get out of my head.”
“Your own thoughts betray you, for freely they gave themselves to me. I had no need to pry my way in.”
“You are an insatiable and arrogant man.”
“I’m no more a man than you—” He stopped abruptly and turned his back to me.
“What is this you once again allude to?” He removed himself from my reach. No man could keep one such as me . . . . Had he not meant riches, for admittedly, I had wants, and Sefton seemed always to have the need to fulfill each and every one of them? Before my next breath, Sefton had dressed.
“Son of Nevsky, what are you hiding from—?” But before I could finish my question, he was gone. And hence, so was I.

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What's Love Got to do With It?

What's love...?

A secondhand emotion, according to the immortal Tina Turner.

But to many Romance authors?

It's everything.

My friend and co-author of the upcoming Johan's Quest series, Brita Addams, gave me some thoughts on the subject. See, to her, love is truly everything. She's lived it, felt it, breathes it in each day. Whereas, I tend to lean more toward Tina Turner's take on it, for love--romantic love--remains but a dream... a hope in my life. But then if we were all cut from the same mold and lived similar lives... how boring would this world be, right?

Love is defined as many things by many people. There's the grandiose hearts and flowers, wine and expensive trips. That works to acquire love, maybe, but to keep it, well, that takes something more.

Brita says:

I prefer to accept a more conventional explanation--the all-important emotion that seems to make the world go round. As romance authors, we write about it in glowing terms: commitment, a lifelong need that burns in all of us.

To me, love is that understanding that there is someone in the world who knows me and cares for me anyway. Whoever I am today, I'm accepted and I live in someone else's thoughts. Love is that one person who's by my side when the chips are down, slogging it out, whatever the adversity. It's caring for someone more than you care for yourself, because you know they feel the exact same way.

It's getting down to the end of your life and knowing you've lived a life that touched others and that touch had an impact. You meant the world to someone else, you were their world, the reason they got up in the morning.

Bryl says:

The above rendition of LOVE is exactly how Brita has managed to gain my attention, worm her way into my heart, and earn my trust, which I do not offer freely. Personally, I have no clue how to define love. Even after thinking on it an entire day, I came up at a loss for words.

The closest I think I come to knowing love is that protectiveness that overcomes me when someone hurts anyone I care about. Or maybe it's that smile that crosses my face when others would cringe from walking in on Sugar Daddy making a complete ass of himself.

Seeing my dismay, understanding my struggle, Brita went on to further try and explain, and in doing so by painting such an apt picture, finally helped me to understand:

How many funerals have you attended where people stood up and spoke about the deceased? I've attended many and the one common thread through all of them is striking. Never, has anyone ever said "Oh, what a wonderful carpenter he was," or "What a wonderful nurse she was." Instead, the folks who stand to speak, do so with tears, their sense of loss deep and heartfelt. The words they speak are of the importance of the deceased's life, the impact that person had on those who loved them.

The answer to the question, "What's Love Got to do With It?" I'm sure the answer is different for everyone, but my answer is Love has everything to do with it. Without love, a person's life is empty. Love is all that makes things worthwhile, all that, when things are said and done, is most enduring.

So, now that I've been laid bare, you tell me,

What does love mean to you?

Leave a comment today and  be entered in a drawing to win one Love Revisited: Rye and Chal Tee or a pdf copy of today's release.

Bryl R. Tyne is a wrangler by nature and a writer by choice, published with Noble Romance Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Dreamspinner Press, STARbooks Press, Untreed Reads Publishing, Changeling Press, and Amber Quill Press. Check out Bryl's bi-monthly column: My Way   Find out more about the author at: bryltyne.com