The Den of Sin

This last summer, a group of amazing authors invited me to join them in the Den of Sin. I excitedly accepted, as I’d been looking and hoping for an opportunity like that. A chance to join with other talented authors and do something big. Something special.

Today is the 1st of releases for the month of November. Go by the website or facebook page. Check out the other fabulous authors that I have teamed with. Follow the links and find out about these books and this season at The Den.

November may be cooling down, but in the Den of Sin things are heating up…

If you haven’t seen it yet, here’s my cover. Release day is Nov 24, just in time for a long Thanksgiving weekend.




Cover Reveal Shifting Currents


Blake doesn’t want a mate. No way. No how. And he certainly doesn’t want her camping on his land, floating down his stretch of river, or looking like she belongs in his bed.

But that’s exactly what he gets when he happens upon a curvy woman with shades of sunset hair named Leah.

She’s on vacation and isn’t looking for any complications, especially in the form of a shifter or the possessive MINE signal he gives off.

So, what are two bears to do when they’ve convinced themselves they don’t want, much less need anyone else?  They give in to the pull and mate, of course, but in sex only. No life commitment. No cubs. No changing the way they live: Separate and independent of each other.

Except when she leaves his mountain, Blake can’t get her off his mind and Leah can’t stop craving his particular brand of heat and gruff love making. Now, the one thing neither wanted, has come full circle, and is ready to bite them both.

My Loveliest Vision


Tomorrow, Oct 14, Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors releases. This is the anthology edited by the fabulous Delilah Devlin. I was fortunate enough to be included with a story that’s dear to my heart…. My Loveliest Vision.

What woman doesn’t long for her knight to come sweep her off her feet, to rescue her, to claim her? What woman doesn’t want to be taken into the strong arms of a man with honor, strong enough to kill, but tender enough to cherish and adore? I know, I have a yearned for my knight to come since I was a little girl after reading fairytales.

Medieval knight kneeling with sword

 Although I write mostly contemporary stories and novels now, my first love is historicals, specifically, medievals. There’s something romanticized about a large stone castle, large horses, blades of steel, and brawny men. While the reality of daily life during medieval times was hardly romantic, it’s hard for me to dismiss those girlhood fantasies of lush dresses and jewels and crowns, and knights.

Eilean Donan Castle

When I first came across this anthology, I knew I had to write a medieval tale of a woman who’d been begging for her own knight for a long time. Lena is special to me. I hope she becomes special to you as well.   



He’d made an oath to not force her. Seth broke the kiss and stepped away, a hand remaining upon Lena’s arm to steady her when she swayed. He was breathing hard, his cock heavy and demanding, revolting as he throbbed against his leggings.

There was a shimmer in the silvery green of her eyes as she lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders. Not tears this time, but defiance. And desire.

“You are to be my husband,” she said.

He knew the words were meant to justify her willingness to be kissed.

She soothed her tongue across the plump flesh as if getting another taste. “Aye, my husband. But, milord,” she lifted the parchment toward him, “you have known of this. Come here to claim my holdings. Me. Whereas, I,” she paused and inhaled, her body shuddering and he could see the doubt and apprehension resurface upon her face, “I had dismissed my betrothal years ago, and knew not twas you who’d arrived this day.”

Seth bent and brushed his lips to hers one more time, not lingering, just merely a caress. He could not stand the look of fear shining in her eyes when all he wanted to see was the mirroring of his arousal and the return of the awakening of her need.

“Aye, milady, you belong to me, but instead of claiming you, I shall make you beg.” To keep from turning himself into a liar and fucking her now, he turned and walked away.


Welcome Justine Elyot

Diamond bigger


Hello to all of you, and a big smoochy thank you to the awesome Renee for having me here today.

Are diamonds forever? I hope so, because I’ve just released a book called Diamond, and it’s the first in a trilogy, so even if it’s not forever, I hope it’s at least a year or so.

I had no idea what to call this book at first – it’s about a woman who splits from her rock star husband and goes back to her roots to lick her wounds for a while. Her roots are a small town in the midlands of England, and she buys a derelict old manor house with the intention of renovating it, to take her mind off her troubles.

She doesn’t expect to have company there – especially a handsome but wild-looking man hidden in her attic! 

So what’s all that got to do with diamonds? Nothing really, except that the man in the attic could be described as a rough diamond. He’s in a bad way when Jenna finds him, but she soon polishes him up to a high shine. And Jenna’s rock star ex is called Deano Diamond. It’s one of those cases of naming a character for the sake of a good title. But who cares, if the title is good? And what’s more alluring than a diamond, after all?

Here’s an excerpt:

‘You’re a bit too free with me, Jen,’ he said after a while, loosening his hold enough that he could look her in the eye. ‘I’m not your toy. I think you need to learn that. I think you need to learn a lot of things.’

Jenna bristled at first, hating, as ever, to be told that she was not right and perfect in every way. After all, she’d grown so used to the sycophancy of the TV people in LA. It was a jolt to be seen as less than impeccable.

‘And you’re going to teach me, are you?’ she said, slightly sulkily.

‘Oh, don’t tempt me,’ he said with a hard little laugh. ‘I could have you begging for mercy on this floor in three minutes flat. Don’t think I couldn’t.’

He was infuriating and yet his words inflamed her so much that she felt weak in his arms, ready to take anything from him. Prove it, beat her heart in an excitable tattoo.

‘Look, I’ve said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. Mea culpa. Can we move on from this? Please?’

‘Yeah, cos that’d suit you, wouldn’t it?’ he said. Hot breath in her ear. ‘To get away with it.’

Her body was taut, knowing in advance that something was going to happen, preparing its defences. At the same time, her knickers were getting wetter and wetter.

Whatever you want to do, do it.

‘I don’t want to get away with it,’ she said.

He moved one of his hands down, until it cupped the curve of her buttocks.

‘Good, because you’re not going to.’

He rubbed her skirt up and down, the light silky material rumpling over her bottom. Between her legs, the sensation quickened, causing her to hitch her breath and catch a little sigh.

‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

‘What am I going to do with you?’ His hand rubbed again, fingertips tracing the cleft of her buttocks over the thin material of her dress. ‘I’ll give you three guesses.’

She’d never thought of herself as really kinky, although she’d had a few fantasies of being tied up and used, but the craving she had for him to raise his hand and bring it down hard on her bottom just then almost drove her out of her mind.

‘Spank me?’ she whispered, and it happened.

It was so sudden and so loud that she didn’t feel the sting of it for a moment or two – too busy jumping out of her skin. But a handprint of heat soon seared through her and her legs came close to giving way.

‘Ten out of ten,’ he said. ‘Clever girl.’

Thanks for reading! If you want more, the book is available now from Amazon and other retailers, in ebook and print formats:

In Pink

Trissa went to lunch with her sister and girlfriends. She wasn’t expecting to go home with a sex toy and she wasn’t sure about using it…

…but it was a gift, so she should at least give it a try….

In Pink coming Friday September 5!


Exactly the Same, Completely Different


On my way to San Antonio

Between 2002 and 2008, I was highly involved in Romance Writers of America (RWA). For few years, I was on the local chapter board and served as the events coordinator for a couple of those. I loved my monthly meetings and the connections and relationships it fostered. And friendships. I went to our local biannual retreat and attended multiple nation conferences, traveling across the country to Dallas, Denver, Reno, New York, Atlanta, San Francisco.

I participated in online chapters, which were still just getting off the ground, and in 2007 I was part of the group of dedicated and talented ladies who founded Passionate Ink and coordinated out first ever chapter event at the Atlanta Aquarium during conference that year. For those who don’t know, Passionate Ink is RWA’s erotic romance chapter, and getting acceptance all those years ago was no easy feat.

I was part of the ‘rising’ crowd, I think , having scored a top notch agent, made sales to multiple traditional publishers, sold rights overseas, had books get book club selections. I didn’t need to pitch books or ideas since I had an agent to do that for me and books under contract already, so that freed me up to just learn and have fun. I sipped cocktails and giggled with coveted editors, I danced after the Rita’s with them, too. I had a great time at the conferences and thought my career was on cloud nine.

And then, in the fall of 2007 the bottom fell out on my world. I should have seen it coming. Actually, I should have made it happen half a decade sooner. My marriage had been bad for years, but I suffered in silence, keeping that part of my life a secret. I never thought I’d have the courage to leave my ex-husband and I was resigned to a life of sadness and loneliness. I may have suffered, but my characters did not. All the pain and anguish and emotion, I felt over years of a bad marriage was poured into my books.

But in the fall of 2007 my ex-husband acted out against my oldest child. I was resigned to being a wife in this life, I was not resigned to being a mother in it, too. I left him, but the next few years weren’t easy. I could write an entire blog post about the following years, hell, I could write a book about them, but this post isn’t about my personal life, it’s about my experiences with RWA.

Over the next year, I tried to hang onto my RWA friendships and relationships. I tried to write through my suffering, finished out what remained on my contracts, and attended conference in July 2008, but writing was already taking a back burner by then. Life was messy and complicated and difficult.

Months slipped into years. Six of them, actually. During those six years, I found my joy again. Lost weight, found a day job, met an amazing man, had a new baby, went back to college, and though characters drifted by to say hello, I didn’t have any stories scratching to be set free. I thought I’d lost the need to write and since I was happy, I didn’t need to pour my sorrow out on the page. But I missed the relationships and friendships. I missed the feeling of a story burning to be written. I missed the feeling and elation of writing ‘The End’.

In the spring of 2013, I began to write again. I self-published a few stories and did fairly well navigating a brand new world of writing and publishing. We’re in a new time and so much has changed since I quietly backed away from writing and publishing. In 2007 erotic romance was seen as the red-headed step-child, but now those hot stories are mainstream and bestsellers. Small presses and self-publishing was frowned upon. But now Amazon rules the market.

So this year, I decided to venture back into the world I’d been so deeply rooted in, so in love with, so involved with. This year, I went to San Antonio to Romance Writers of America’s national conference.

It was exactly how I remembered. But everything was different. Girlfriends I had before who were just starting their careers when I was are now super stars in this industry, or they’re gone, not having the thick skin needed to sustain. And there are so many new faces.


Lunch, Sylvia Day keynote. Speaking is Terry (RWA prez)

I felt brand new. I knew what to expect, how to navigate a conference, but the people had changed, attitudes about publishing had changed, acceptance of my genre had changed. I was in a weird space. I am an award winning multi-published author, and yet, I am a nobody. I belonged there, but didn’t feel like I belonged. It was a strange feeling. I’ve been home for a few days now and it’s still surreal.

So much about RWA is the same. The same amazing classes, the same authors using classes to self-promote, the same talented speakers, the same giving agents, and sought-after editors. I saw them all, recognized them, but doubted that they remembered me. Some I had partied with, drank and danced with, but right now, right this minute, I am a newbie and not in the ‘in crowd’.

What’s different now is that I have confidence in my ability to write. I know I belong in this world. Whereas before, I was scared and insecure, I am now a confident woman sure of what I want and what I want to is to be back in the loving arms of Romance Writers of America. This is the world in which I belong. Sure, I adore the control of self-publishing and admire those doing it full time and on their own, but I yearn for my old friendships and relationships born from my time involved with RWA.

So while everything remains the same, everything is also different. And I am going to EMBRACE those differences!

Hello RWA and readers. Get ready, because I’m BACK!

~Renee Luke


A tease of Tease…

Teaseman copy

Burying his face into the curve of her neck, he struggled to breath, to get his need under control. Bit down on his bottom lip to keep from cumming. To keep the yearning from suffocating him.

It’d been so long. Hell, too damned long.

Pulling his soaked fingers from her body, her wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close while her breathing was still uneven. While his name still danced along her lips.

Slowly, her body stopped trembling, her gasps of air turned into normal tugs of air, and she went still. Completely still.

Gritting his teeth and prepared for whatever anger she was about to give, he pulled back and looked into her intense eyes. No anger, but not happiness or pleasure. Just this steady stare she watched him with, as if unsure what to expect from him.

He smiled, wanted to laugh. A week damn near and he hadn’t seen her happy once. “You okay?”

She nodded. “What about you?” Her gaze drifted down to where the head of his cock had escaped his boxer shorts.

He did laugh this time. Her tone was so thoughtful. So pensive. “Sugar-girl, I’ll be fine.”


“I’m fine. That was about taking care of you.”

She frowned, straightening her lips into a puckered line. She looked around the room, as if trying to regain composure before glancing back in his direction.

She inhaled sharply, then brought her narrowed gaze back at his face. “Why’d you bring those stupid bags of candy in here?”

“What’s the matter with the candy?” he goaded.

“It’s cotton candy.”


“It’s pink.”


There was silence. Her lips going into a straight line again. Damn, he saw how her body was still shaking from climax, could feel it with the arm he had draped over her middle, yet she was still unable to find any humor.

“It’s just cotton candy. Pink cotton candy. Nothing too serious.”

“Cotton candy is serious when it means…” her voice trailed off as she seemed to realize what she was about to admit. It was their past that troubled her. The candy was just a reminder.

He sat up, then leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. A sweet kiss, meant to express caring and adoration not lust. “Sugar-girl, it’s not that serious. Nothing in life is that serious.”

And then he shoved from the bed and headed toward the bathroom. Though walking with the hard-on he was sporting wasn’t easy, he didn’t look back. He had to go find a little lotion and work out this nut, or he’d have a serious case of blue balls within hours.

“I hate pink,” she yelled after him.

He roared with strained laughter, then shut the door.

Taking Over

Hi All,

Tomorrow evening, at 11 pm EST, I’ll be taking over at

Come by and say hi… I think I’ll be giving away a few goodies… a candle, some candy, and of course, a BOOK or two….

Next week I’ll be over at the lovely Delilah Devlin’s page telling all about my trip to San Antonio for the RWA National Conference…