Welcome to Tawny Taylor's guest blog

Hello Love Romances and More! It’s so wonderful coming back! Thank you Danny for the invitation!

It’s been one year, almost to the day, since my last guest blog. Unlike the first time, I’m going it alone, without a script. It’s Tawny Taylor unplugged.So what am I going to blog about? I’m thinking inspiration would be a good topic. Well, as good as any. People ask me all the time where I get inspiration for my stories. It must be of some interest. My answer: I find inspiration in all kinds of places, some more bizarre than others. For kicks, I thought I’d share five of the most unusual sources of inspiration I’ve found and the books they inspired:

1. Wet ‘N Wild theme park, Orlando, Fl. (Wet and Wilde, Ellora’s Cave)
2. An industrial fire at a nearby chemical plant (Light My Fire, Ellora’s Cave)
3. The legend of the phoenix (Prince of Fire, Samhain Publishing)
4. A book review in which the reviewer said she wished she could be the story’s heroine (Wild Nights, Wicked Nights, and Wanton Nights, Changeling Press)
5. An overheard conversation about a woman who was dumped by her fiancé for another man. (Decadent Master, Aphrodisia)

And finally, to celebrate the release of DECADENT MASTER, I thought I’d share a little exclusive preview. I hope you enjoy it! And thanks again for inviting me to guest blog today.

From DECADENT MASTER (Feb. 23, 2010 Aphrodisia)

“Wynne?” Rolf cupped her chin, wrenching her out of her head and back into the real world.

Oh my God. She was standing here, nearly breathless with lust for one man while thinking of another. What was this place doing to her?

“I’m sorry, Rolf. I shouldn’t be here.” Major understatement. “This isn’t for me. It was a mistake coming tonight.” Big, huge, bigger-than-huge mistake. She expected him to move his arms, to let her go, so she could run like a sissy.

He didn’t.

He pinched his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. “What’s the real reason why you came here tonight?”

Why’d he ask her that?

Her cheeks were about to combust and there wasn’t a single drop of spit left in her mouth. Her tongue was as dry as the Mohave. “I’m...writing a book.”

His eyes locked on hers, he shook his head. “I’m not buying that excuse, so how about you tell me the truth?”

“But I am...I did...I’m working on a book. It’s a romance...” God, I’m such a bad liar, but I can’t tell him about John. I’ll look so pathetic. Ack, why do I care how pathetic I’ll look in his eyes? I’m not going to do anything with this man.

“A romance, eh?” He dipped his head lower, bending his elbows to bring the hulk of his body closer to hers. A few parts of her anatomy decided they liked it. Her grey matter wasn’t saying what it thought, one way or the other.

Oh God, he was so close and he smelled so good. And his mouth, it was right there. She could let him kiss her. Yes, that would be okay.

What am I thinking?

She gulped a few shallow breaths, hoping the oxygen would help kick-start her brain. It was stalled.

“You’ve gotten very quiet, precious.”

As impossible as she thought it might be, he leaned in closer still. His body--all six feet plus, two hundred and some-odd pounds--was practically smooshed up against hers. A whisper-thin pocket of superheated air was all that remained between them.

That, and one very big, bold-faced lie.

“Are you maybe plotting out a sex scene in that pretty head of yours? Maybe I can help.” He tipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a whisper of a kiss.

The air somehow seeped out of her lungs, making her head spin like she was riding on a tilt-o-whirl. He did it again, and little currents of electricity charged through her body, starting in the center and zapping up her chest and down her legs.

Oh, this was crazy, letting this man kiss her. No, they didn’t have their tongues thrust down each other’s throats, but this wasn’t a chaste kiss either. She was leading Rolf on, making him think things that could never be...

Like she wanted him to kiss her more. Harder. Longer.

Oh God.

She turned her head and fought for the air she needed to clear her foggy head. But Rolf didn’t back off. Instead, he turned his attention to her neck, sweeping her hair away to get a clean shot.

He started the torture by blowing a soft current of air against her already simmering skin. Of course, that left her shivering and covered in goose bumps. No doubt that was just what he’d hoped. Then he flicked his tongue over the pounding pulse running up the side of her neck, following it to her earlobe.

She dragged her heavy arms up and grasped the first thing that she touched, his shirt, squeezing her fingers into tight fists around the soft fabric. She heard herself breathing, felt herself melting against him, knew her resolve was melting too, but damn if she had the self control to tell him to stop.

It was wrong. Very wrong. But at the moment, it felt more right than any stolen kiss she’d ever experienced. Even her first with John.

He nipped her ear, and her body bolted, every muscle suddenly almost painfully tight. “You’re so responsive, precious. Your body reacts to everything I do.”

That was no lie, even she was surprised. Not that she’d been a cold fish with John, but she’d never been so...easily aroused.

What a freaking understatement. God, she was on fire.

“Come with me, now. To my suite.” He dropped his arms, only to take both her hands. Back-stepping, he lured her down the hall. “It’s time to start your training.”