Tag Archives: Joey W. Hill

Guest: Joey W. Hill on the Return of Mermaids and Angels

You might be thinking – what on earth is Lime talking about? Well, the re-release of one of Joey W. Hill‘s books! She’s a total sweetheart, incidentally, and her books are hot. But you don’t want to read my babble, you want to read a super sexy excerpt. And see what she’s giving away. 😉

Mermaids and Angels Return
just in time for Christmas!

First the good stuff, before I natter at you. Here’s a little clip from the beginning of A Mermaid’s Kiss: An angel has fallen into the sea, and Anna is trying to hide him from his pursuing enemies


The angelic Jonah has been battling the Dark Ones for centuries. But his noble spirit has begun to tire with the weight of war—allowing a Dark One to strike a blow that severs his wings and knocks him into the sea.

Anna is a Daughter of Arianne—a direct descendant of the mermaid of legend. Anna’s longing for love compels her to risk her very life to protect and hide the fallen Jonah. And the longer Jonah delays his return to the heavens, the more Anna’s secret passions are tempted.

But as she falls more in love with him, Anna wonders if she’s destined to lose her heart and her dreams to save Jonah’s soul


Anna wanted to turn back, take them out of this underwater maze of dark caves, but now she didn’t know which way was back. It didn’t matter. She’d just swim, the faster the better. Anything was better than not moving.

When the wing brushed the center of her back, at first she paid it no mind, but then she realized it wasn’t his wing. It was the angel’s hand, his arm coming inside the circle of the wing to take a sure clasp around her, bringing her close against his firm, warm body.

It’s all right. Be still and let me think, little one.

He was conscious at last. The relief she felt, not to be alone in this empty pit, almost made her sag against him before she remembered she was holding him up. Even though the voice was wholly inside her head, it reassured, not only because of the pitched velvet of it, but the command. It was a thought with no fear in it. No uncertainty. And an additional quality that unexpectedly distracted her from their immediate problem.

His hand moved along her back, then down to the curve of her hip, layered in tight scales that felt every movement of his touch. Her sensitive side fins feathered against his fingers.

A mermaid. A young mermaid, come to my aid. His hand went up, tangled in her loose hair. A maid in truth.

So he knew her kind, enough to know that the unmated girls wore their hair down. Then he found his way around to her mouth, and that thought skittered off somewhere, forgotten.

Despite the cold and fear, nerve endings activated like the sea fans agitated by the stimulation of an irresistible current. She eagerly embraced it, because it made the terror retreat enough so she could think again.

“They’re close,” she managed. “If they see your light
” She spoke in the way of mermaids, a combination of sounds that vibrated through the water, because she wasn’t sure if he could hear her thoughts. She also didn’t know if he knew her language, but she needn’t have worried. He didn’t seem to have any problem understanding her. She was able to feel his head nod, once. Sensed him probing their surroundings in some way. Despite that and the firm command in his mind-voice, she wondered if he would remain cognizant. While she didn’t want to hear it, pain and effort were there, in a strained note underneath his thoughts. His next words confirmed it, bringing back her fear.

Another mile down, there will be an outcropping, shaped like a dragon’s head. Do you know what a dragon is?

She nodded.

Good. Use it as your marker. Its mouth leads to a series of caverns. There should be light there. And warmth. But it is a long way. Far, far down into its belly. Too far.

She felt his attention on her, though she couldn’t see the features of his face.

You know
there are no female angels.

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “Save your strength, my lord. We will get you to safety.”

You are beautiful and kind, little one. But it is best to leave me. Let me die and save yourself. There are many angels, and only one of you.

He couldn’t know how true those last words were. Could he?

When she turned her head, her temple brushed his face, his jaw. At that moment, his other hand raised, and a soft blue light emitted from his palm, giving her a brief flash of dim light that almost made her sob in relief. His eyes had opened, the remarkable sweep of thick lashes now revealing his dark eyes. All dark. He had no whites, so the way he gazed at her was peculiar, animallike. She couldn’t tell his thoughts from them, or if he was having any thoughts at all.

She wanted to push away the thought that she would be descending even further into the darkness and freezing cold, and that he might be delirious. She sensed no fear in him, though he must know better than she what followed them.

I am quite conscious and rational
but I see you need proof.

His head descended and his lips, his mouth, were on hers. A turn of events that completely immobilized her. It wasn’t kissing, not exactly. It was as if he was tasting her, for his tongue traced hers, his lips coaxing hers apart.

Had she been cold? It seemed fire now swept her. She’d been holding him in the role of protector, but now she was pressed against him, one of his arms tightly around her body, making it clear who was the far stronger of the two of them. The one most capable of taking charge, keeping fears at bay.

She soared through those clouds of distracting thoughts and into a blue sky of something else. This was wanting and feeling and needing
ecstasy and sorrow together in that odd way, balancing release with never-ending yearning, leaving one in a strange confusion of joy. Her fingers crept up, wondrously touching the place where their lips met. His curved, and then his teeth nipped at her, making her start. Astonishingly, she almost laughed.

A convulsion went through him, disrupting the moment, making her heart leap into her throat. “My lord—”

Consciousness deserted him once more, his lips drifting along her jaw. Anna had never felt so awake in her life.

 ~*~

A few years ago, I was asked to write a “sensual” story for the Berkley Sensation line. Up until that time, I was a Dark Side dweller
hanging out over in the Berkley Heat side of things with my Vampire Queen series, which is pretty hardcore BDSM romance. Truth, I’m a dark side kind of girl, but I said “Sure, I’ll do it. I’ll write a sensual romance.” In the meantime, I was thinking: “Uh-huh. Doesn’t matter how hard you try, Joey—by the time you type ‘the end’, someone’s going to be tied up and enjoying it. If not, pigs will be flying to the moon.”

But what the heck. As long as the muse gives me a story, I’ll follow where it goes. As it turns out, she gave me a lovely one, both an erotic and spiritual journey. Jonah is an angel who has lost his purpose, and Anna, a descendant of Arianne, the original Little Mermaid, is determined to help him rediscover it. She’s on a short schedule, though, because the curse on her family says she’ll die when she’s twenty-one.  I was very surprised where the story went, because by the end of it, they’d traveled from coastal Florida to the Nevada desert, and had interacted with a variety of unexpected characters, including an Art Bell type radio program host, a carpenter and his wife, a WWII veteran
 Did I mention Lucifer also shows up and he and Jonah get into a pissing match?

So why am I talking about a book that was released a few years ago? Because A Mermaid’s Kiss is being re-released in mass market format December 4. That means if you’ve never taken the plunge with my mermaids and angels (yes, of course angels can swim—they’re angels!) you can do so now, for a less expensive price. We all like to save money, right?

Hope you enjoyed the excerpt. If you’d like the chance to win a book of your choice (including this one), just leave me a comment or question. I’ll be checking in throughout the day to answer any questions or just put in my two cents (grin).

Oh, and if you want more of this story, you can read a chapter one excerpt from this book on my website, as well as free excerpts from the other two books in the Daughters of Arianne series, A Witch’s Beauty (about the seawitch, Mina) and A Mermaid’s Ransom (about Jonah and Anna’s daughter).

You can find Joey at her Website, Facebook, Twitter: @JoeyWHill, or her fan forum: (there’s free reads out here, revisiting my characters, as well as awesome graphics inspired by the books)

Come on – I know you must have some comments or questions after all that. And hey, even if you don’t, think of something, because there’s a sexy book up for grabs! <3

Author Spotlight: Joey W. Hill

You guys!!! Today we have the awesome and lovely Joey W. Hill visiting with us! If you’ve never read any of her books before, let me tell you they are hot. Like – fan yourself hot. Blush and look around furtively as if there is anyone around you who can read your mind hot. But not only are they extremely sexy stories, they’re lovely and emotional. It’s pretty much the best you can want in erotic romances. I haven’t really got anything to add because this is a fabulous post too. Pretty much Ms. Hill is just fabulous all around.

It’s the Little Things


When I’m doing research for a book, it’s the small details that will capture my attention and get integrated into the storyline, an important part of what makes the scene interesting, absorbing. For instance, I could say that Dick and Jane glanced at the Lincoln Memorial as they strolled past it, and throw in a couple general features about the memorial. However, what would be a lot more interesting is if Jane, trying to tease Dick out of a bad mood, takes them into the shaded and relatively cooler area inside the memorial alcove and challenges him to find the typo in the Second Inaugural Address engraved in the wall. Since he doesn’t see it right off, she has him come and stand right behind her, looking in the direction she’s looking. He has to slip his arms around her waist to align himself perfectly with her body, and then, somewhat distracted, he nudges her hair to the side to taste her neck. As she chuckles and exhorts him—a little breathlessly—to look at the wall, he stops in mid-kiss, because he sees it. The discovery, and the warmth of her body against him, make him feel better, and he realizes, with a reluctant smile, how good she is at that.

Better, right? As a romance reader, this is the type of scene that draws me into the characters. Romance is one of the few genres where it’s perfectly acceptable to “stop and smell the roses” to further the plot, since the main plot is about two characters falling in love. And since the pleasure of that journey is enhanced by a lot of sensory input, it makes the details of the setting even more critical. In the above example, you have the sense of the Lincoln Memorial as an active part of the scene, rather than just a backdrop, and you feel like you’re there. More fun with Dick and Jane for both author and reader (wink).

I haven’t often had to travel for research, since the Internet provides a wealth of knowledge these days in firsthand blog accounts, photos, videos, etc. However, I had the pleasure of seeing New Orleans in person when I went there last year to spend time with my mother and brother, as well as to research Hostile Takeover, the latest in my Knights of the Board Room series.

When I was doing my strolls/trolley rides through the city, I again was looking for the small details that would make the city come alive in the book as an active, contributing part of the romance. New Orleans excels in that area. For instance, this little clip gives you an idea of what I gleaned from a simple trolley ride


When the day was over, instead of taking his car, they took the trolley. Marcie had never appreciated how narrow the wooden two-seat bench was. Ben necessarily stretched a long arm across the back, pressing her against his side, his thigh against her leg as they clattered along the track from downtown. Though she’d grown up in Baton Rouge, she was well acquainted with New Orleans. Still, it had been awhile since she was here.

She enjoyed recalling the landmarks as they went along, the crush of people wandering Canal Street, that view streamlining into St. Charles’ never ending offering of restaurants. Each had a unique flair, like bohemian middle-aged women, old enough to be comfortable and confident in their skin, yet young enough to exude color and style. As they passed through the religious school district, she saw a few students still on the grounds in their uniforms of crisp white shirts and navy pants or skirts.

Ben had them get off at Audubon Park to join the joggers and cyclists along the walkways there. In the quiet nooks where statues and gazebos sat by the water, they occasionally glimpsed homeless people camped, absorbing the tranquility the way they were. Ben guided her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they strolled that way. She imagined them doing it a hundred years ago, her in petticoats and a stylish hat, him in a suit that wouldn’t differ too much from what he wore now, at least in cut and style. The man did know how to dress.

If you go through the Garden District, in addition to Spanish moss, the old oaks are draped with a plethora of sparkling Mardi Gras beads, left there year round. It was too whimsical not to put it into a scene. Here’s a small clip from it:

When they left the park, they strolled along the broken sidewalks that led them into the residential areas. Tilting her head back, she studied the thick waterfall of colorful beads hanging from the oaks, competing with the Spanish moss. “I love that they let these stay in the trees.” Reaching up, she tried to snag a pretty silver strand, but she was too short. She gave a valiant hop, putting all her effort into it, and her fingertips brushed it. “Shoot.”

“Here, brat. Little tease.” He bent, wrapped his arms beneath her buttocks and boosted her up his body to give her the extra head of height she needed. Marcie caught the beads, untangled them and drew down two, a silver and a shiny green. She was hyper-conscious of his arms around her, the way her hips pressed into his abdomen. When she looked down, bracing her hands on his shoulders, she could tell he wasn’t unaffected, either. He let her slide down his body but kept her close until she rested between his feet. His hands adjusted downward, way low on her waist, curling over the tops of her buttocks, pinching the folds of her skirt between his fingertips.

“I could have done it with a few more jumps,” she defended herself. “It’s just about building momentum. But your help was appreciated.”

“Hmm.” He stared down at her, and the unfathomable look quieted her. Dropping the silver strand over her head, she put the green on him. Her fingers slipped over his hair, touched his neck and ears, rested on his shoulders when she was done, her thumbs touching his throat because he’d loosened his tie, unbuttoned the collar. Because he didn’t say not to do it, she stroked that small expanse of skin, scratched it with her nail.

His gaze heated, his hands dropping to take a firm hold of her ass, kneading, no matter the passing cars or sidewalk pedestrians. There weren’t so many of those here, but the occasional matronly dog walker could make her more self-conscious than the anonymity and colorful nature of a big Canal Street crowd.

It was exactly why he did it. She knew it was a test. So she didn’t look around, didn’t squirm away. “I’m going to do something now,” he said. “As I’m doing it, you tell me what goes through that imaginative brain of yours.”

Lowering his head, he nudged hers to the side with the touch of his mouth on her temple. Turning her face toward his broad shoulder, pressing her nose into the smooth line of his dress shirt over his pectoral, she shuddered as his mouth landed on the juncture of her throat and shoulder. He bit her there, a controlled motion, teeth slowly depressing as his tongue stroked her. Her breath shortened, and she almost forgot to do what he’d told her to do.

“You’re winding a rope wrap from below my knees to my ankles.” Her trembling increased as the pressure did, the clamp of the bite. “You do the same to my arms, from wrists to elbows, behind my back. My breasts
they’re thrust way out because of that. So you do a binding there as well, one rope above, one below, a crossed knot in the middle, and then you attach that to the arm wrap. You put me over your shoulder, completely helpless. You take me to a sofa, bend me over the arm and
”

He relaxed his jaw, then started that depression again, interfering with her ability to think. She was leaned into him, pressing harder against him.

“Do I let you come, or make you suffer? Make you beg?”

She smiled, though her fingers were digging into his biceps, holding on. God, how did he do this so well?
“I’d come at your command, right now,” she whispered.

“It takes a while for a sub to learn how to do that. Come at her Master’s command.”

“Not if she’s been practicing for seven years.”

There’s a full chapter one excerpt from Ben and Marcie’s story on my website if you’d like a formal  introduction to them (smile). I’ll have the distinct pleasure of returning to New Orleans in August for the Authors After Dark conference. This is my third AAD, and I expect it will be the best yet, despite the fact the previous two have been awesome. Stella, the coordinator, and her troupe of volunteers, work so hard to make sure the event is memorable for readers, bloggers, authors and all the participants. This year they have all that going for them, as well as an incredible location. I hope to see many of you there!

In her March 10 post here, Stacey Kennedy did a great job of detailing the many wonderful things to do in New Orleans. One of the things I missed last time was the Bestoff sculpture garden next to the New Orleans museum. I have a thing for sculpture – it often figures into my stories (smile). No telling how that visit will manifest itself in future scenes!

Giveaway: Leave a comment or question and your email address, and you’ll have the chance to win the book-of-your-choice from my available and upcoming titles. I’ll contact the winner in a few days and announce who they are in the comments to this post.

Where to find me:  website (free excerpts for all my books), Fan Forum:  (lot of free reads, graphics, character interviews, etc. here!), Twitter, Facebook