Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Give Away!! "We are made of Stardust" by Mimi Strong

Mimi Strongs hot new book "We are made of Stardust" is here!
Enter to win 1 of 3 ebooks below!
And if you haven't read her book "For You" you will want to grab that one too!

There I was, minding my own business at Peachtree Books when this lunatic comes racing in the door and knocks me into his arms. I would have ripped him a new one, but he was kinda familiar, and hot. Like I-want-to-have-your-sexy-babies-now hot.

Turns out he looks familiar because I stare at his gorgeous face on TV every week. Yup, Dalton Deangelo. In the oh-so-firm flesh.

I let him hide out from the press for a while, then I thought he'd be on his way, and I could breathe normally again. But no. He found me interesting. He wanted to tag along to my cousin's wedding with me. I couldn't say no to that face ... or THOSE EYES. Before the night was through, he was saying sweet things, then dirty things. Very dirty things.

I try to keep my eyes wide open. I've made terrible, stupid mistakes in the past. But Dalton Deangelo's touch turns me to Jell-O.

I'm just a regular girl, and he's rich and famous with no body fat. The guy has a butler! So, why is he chasing me? And why can't I say no? And what is this sordid secret of his the reporters are trying to uncover?

We are Made of Stardust is available now at:
Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/1abvAl6
Kobobooks -  http://bit.ly/12ib911
AllRomanceEbooks - http://bit.ly/1aKWgYG
Paperback coming soon

Mimi Strong


Q. Is sexy, smooth Dalton Deangelo based on a certain real actor who plays a vampire on TV?
A. Yes and no. It's based on the mile-high girlie crush one of my friends has on the actor Ian Somerhalder, and the hypnotic hold he seems to have on this grown, married woman, much to my amusement! She blushes when she talks about him.

Q. Where did the idea for We are Made of Stardust come from?
A. My favorite romantic movie is Notting Hill, and I think any of us who've worked a retail job have fantasized about our favorite actor walking through the door! I think this story has been in my head for years. Most people would get so nervous, they wouldn't even speak to the actor, so I needed a girl who could hold her own and then some. Along came Peaches. She doesn't see herself as a fun girl, but oh boy is she fun.

Q. How long does it take you to write a novel?
A. I wish I was one of those speedy authors who can write a full-length novel in one week, but it takes me about 5 weeks to complete a first draft of something as long and involved as We are Made of Stardust. Then I still have to do research and editing. I think the second novel in the series will go faster, as I know the characters better. I'm always working hard so my readers don't have to wait long.


“Pinkie swear?”
He linked pinkie fingers with me. Even his pinkie finger was sexy. The heat from the wine spread through my belly and the rest of my body.
Keeping his finger wrapped around mine, he shifted his body closer to mine on the rounded banquette seat, so our knees and the sides of our legs were touching. The trailer felt warm. Very warm.
He murmured, “You’ve hardly touched your dinner. Was the marinade too salty?”
I stared at his lips, deep red from the wine and food. “Everything was perfect. I guess I wasn’t that hungry.”
He moved his free hand to the tops of my knees, then pushed his hand down between my legs, the heat of his palm radiating through my jeans.
My heart sped up, thrumming in my ears as he slid his hand up between my legs until he reached the center of me.
I gasped as he pressed against me through my jeans.
His voice thick with lust, he said, “I can’t stop thinking about the other night in the car. I should have laid you back on the seat, put your legs up on my shoulders, and pulled off your panties with my teeth.”
“Oh-my-goodness.” I reached for my glass of wine and tossed the rest of it back in one shot.
He leaned in and kissed my shoulder through my blouse, then moved up to my neck. His hot lips on my skin—on my pulse points—made my body go limp and my eyelashes flutter.
He slowly made his way to my mouth, where he nibbled my lips, both of us tasting of red wine. I parted my lips as he thrust his tongue hungrily into my mouth, while his hand pressed against my swelling pussy.
Yes, pussy.
Usually, I have girl-parts, or a ladyflower, or some other euphemism.
But as Dalton Deangelo thrust his hot tongue into my mouth and worked me through my jeans, I had a full-on, raging hot, swollen pussy.
And I wanted him inside me. Immediately.

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