Friday, December 14, 2012


I have Flame Arden in my crib today and she's going to share a little about herself and Sweet Talk us. Oooh, sounds yummy. So let's get started and remember to give some love at the end. Take it away Flame.  Sweet-Talk Me. Please.

I grew up in the deep South where honey opens doors. Everyone sweet-talks, even total strangers. It's expected of them.
My California-raised granddaughter once relocated to Augusta, Georgia. The first time she entered the local Walmart the greeter asked, "You want a buggy, honey?" and, unaccustomed to such familiarity, she almost walked out again. Within weeks, she was calling everybody honey, too.

Collins Thesaurus of the English Language - Complete and Unabridged 2nd Edition. 2002 ©Harper Collins Publishers 1995, 2002 lists persuade, coax, beguile, flatter, tempt, mislead, maneuver, seduce, entice, dupe, cajole, chat up, wheedle, palaver, inveigle, soft-soap and blandish under sweet-talk.

Wow! No wonder a woman has second thoughts when endearments flow off a man's tongue like water flows over a waterfall.
Without question, a single woman likes to be flattered, chatted up, and sometimes even seduced. Just listen to the cacophony of disparate voices raised in a singles bar.

The question is: How soon should your characters' small talk turn to sweet-talk if you want the conversation to lead to pillow-talk?
There are expected steps to take in a seduction, like touching and holding the heroine's hand while respectfully murmuring sweet nothings.  He should complement the heroine, make her laugh, and then capitalize on that intimate connection.

Nick St. Clair, the hero of Christmas Eve, released today by Evernight Publishing, grew up in Texas, but sweet-talk does not come easy to this wealthy Las Vegas businessman until he meets Eve Adohr. Something about the innocent-looking woman he thinks is a call girl makes Nick want to care for and protect her, feelings he's never before experienced, and calling her sweetheart seems the most natural thing in the world. Small talk soon becomes sweet-nothings whispered on the dance floor, then moves from sweet-talk to pillow-talk behind closed doors, a natural progression Eve accepts to ease her loneliness on Christmas Eve. Nick is smooth. Nick is suave, every woman's fantasy and a true romantic to boot.

Here's a blurb:
In a blinding snowstorm on Christmas Eve, the jaded owner of a posh Las Vegas casino mistakes the stranded real estate agent at his door for the classy call girl he's expecting to heat up his holiday.
Passions ignite. Eve has learned men believe bedding her the most direct route to her wealth. Nick's female companions always want the keys to his Ferrari and to his safe deposit box, never to his heart, so he distrusts the entire lot and expects to simply walk away unscathed when his brief time with Eve ends.

Neither expects to give marriage a try, but hearts have a way of going where cautious souls refuse, and after screwing their heads off for six days and nights Nick and Eve discover without love their former lives were little more than empty shells.


Finally. Nick St. Clair took one last look around. Everything seemed in order. Don't let your irritation at your hired date's tardiness show. She might have a reasonable excuse for being late.
Straightening the lapels of his hip-length robe, he crossed to the door. Beneath the robe, black silk pajama pants provided minimal warmth but kept him decent.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," the statuesque woman on his porch said with a bright smile, "but I've done something really stupid and wondered if you—"
"Don't just stand there." Nick opened the door wider, anxious to see what his credit card had purchased this time. "Come in."
"Thanks." After a slight hesitation, the woman stepped gracefully inside. Ice crystals clung to the fine wool scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, and to her stylish boots. She was all bundled up in a long coat, but Nick's mind's eye had no difficulty sketching what he hoped was hidden underneath.
The lady wore far too many clothes.
"I'm afraid my boots are wet." She glanced first at him. His welcoming smile seemed to stun her. She stared at her boots. "Where would you like me to stand?"
"By the fire." Nick indicated the hearth. "You look frozen." Although in need of a woman, he had no desire to bed an icicle. He wasn't that desperate. Yet.
She crossed the room at a slow pace, her fluid movements an aphrodisiac to him, although each tentative step left behind a patch of melting ice. Sex-deprived man that he was, his living room suddenly felt too warm. Things were looking up.
"I've been busy on the computer," he said, surprised by the sudden gruffness of his usually smooth voice. He joined her before the fire. "I hadn't noticed it had begun to snow."
A soft-looking, hooded leather coat covered her to her ankles. What lay beneath all those layers?
To his surprise, the unknown whetted his appetite. "Here, let me help you out of that coat."
No? Her response drew Nick up short.
"That won't be necessary," she said, her sexy eyes wide. "I'll just keep it on, since I'm hoping we'll be going right back out."
Out? Was this some sort of sex game played to excite him?
"Problem is..." She paused, smiling up at him, even daring to bat her eyes.
Unusual eyes, those. Emeralds, flecked with gold, and about all Nick could see of his date at the moment. He found the situation so damned erotic he began to sweat.
"... my car slid in the ditch next door," she added, drawing his thoughts from what treasures her long coat might hide. "I wouldn't bother you, but this mountain seems to be out of my cell phone's service area and I wondered if I might use your phone to call for a tow."
The dimple nestled in the satiny cheek nearest Nick flirted with him as she spoke. Intriguing. Might as well play along. "Sure."

Flame Arden talks like a well-bred Southern lady. Nothing could be further from the truth. She claims to write sex scenes with squirm factor. You be the judge as she opens the boudoir door to one-man, one-woman relationships and gives you a glimpse inside. A happy and lasting marriage has prepared Flame to write sizzling love scenes, and she doesn't disappoint.

Flame hangs out here:
You can download Christmas Eve here:
Or from your favorite eBook store

  Thanks for stopping by today Flame! Remember everyone, leave some love below. 

 Cynthia Arsuaga


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