Archive for the ‘spies’ Category

My Spies, Lies & Naked Thighs Spice novel is being released today in Italy in a three-in-one book set with Lori Foster and Amanda McIntryre!
I’ve always loved trains and the mystery and adventure of the Orient Express. Even James Bond got it on with a beautiful Russian spy aboard the train to Istanbul in From Russia with Love.
When I wanted my heroine in my erotic spy thriller, Spies, Lies and Naked Thighs (Bionda Vendetta in Italian), to take control of the situation with a sexy man she perceived to be a dangerous terrorist, she went one step further than 007: she tied him up and performed delicious torture on him (including oral sex) on the night train to Paris:
He attempts to rip apart his restraints, arching and groaning and gritting his teeth.
“You can avoid further frustration if you tell me what I want to know.” I smooth his dark hair back from his sweating brow, avoiding touching his eye patch, knowing he’s anticipating me ripping it off. I don’t, adding to his tension. “Who do you work for?”
“I told you. I work alone.”
“I don’t believe you.” I slide my hand between his legs, feeling him. “Maybe this will loosen your tongue because I have no intention of loosening the rope around your cock.” This elicits a distinct erotic charge in him that jolts him. He thrusts into my hand, struggling madly to free himself, his shoulders heaving in his attempt to escape from captivity.
“You’ll get no information from me,” he snorts.
“Won’t I? I know the Russian had money,” I persist, knowing I have to give him a convincing story. “I want my share.”
He closes his eyes. I see his exhaustion. He’s not giving up as easily as I first believed. It’s not easy on me either. I exist in a situation of emotional and sexual intensity in which I’m deeply implicated, yet I can do nothing to satisfy my own needs. This is no lovers’ game, but a tug-of-war involving the intense energy of ritual and passionate SM where one of us will lose.
The question is: Which one?
I also made a short 30-second promo for Spies, Lies and Naked Thighs in both English and Italian.



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by Evelyn Q. Darling
Romance Reporter At Large

How well do you know your hero? Is he tall, dark and handsome? Okay, so you don’t want a cookie-cutter hero, but have you really thought about what questions to ask him?

(When you can take your eyes away from his sexy grin among other parts of his anatomy.)

This reporter recently interviewed heroines for a romance gig and got some very interesting answers.

Now, it’s your hero’s turn. Ready, ladies? Start your engines…

Here are my 5 Job Tips for a great romance novel hero interview:

1. Don’t ask him to take off his shirt. Tempting, yes, as you check out his muscular arms, but this is a sexist attitude that will get you nowhere. (But oh the fun you’ll have trying!)

2. Schedule the interview in a locale where you’ll both feel comfortable. Not in a sports bar where he can eyeball the basketball scores and the waitresses with the deep cleavage. Forget tea shops that serve lemon dainties, unless you’re writing a regency and you want to see if he exudes the proper Mr. Darcy-isms.

3. Ask him to show you his…wheels. Yes, I said, wheels. Is he a Harley guy? Jaguar? Or does he drive an old pickup? Does he keep half his “stuff” in his car? Or is he a neatnik? You can tell a lot about a man by his…wheels.

4. What’s his day job? Or if he’s into night work (and what hard-working vampire isn’t?), you’ll want to make sure he’s a good match for your heroine. If she’s a lawyer, a police detective can make her life hectic; if she runs a cake and bake shop, how about interviewing a land developer who wants to tear down her vintage cottage shop? And let’s not forget the city gal who’s just aching to meet up with a real cowboy. Just make sure he can ride…a horse.

5. And finally, don’t ask him if he’s a good kisser. Tell him to show you.

Evelyn is the alter-ego of Jina Bacarr, The Blonde Samurai: “She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

Jina is also the author of The Blonde Geisha ,Cleopatra’s Perfume, Naughty Paris, Tokyo Rendezvous, a Spice Brief, and Spies, Lies & Naked Thighs

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Cleopatra's Perfume by Jina Bacarr


 “The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe” is an audio/podcast series Prequel to my Spice novel, Cleopatra’s Perfume.

What I call a “story vid.”

Before Lady Eve Marlowe married a member of the British peerage, she was a cabaret dancer in Berlin in the late 1920s during the wild days of the Weimar Republic.

In Episode 1, Lady Eve was about to get paddled when she met a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish.

Click here to listen to Episode 1 audio podcast 

In Episode 2, Lady Eve received a paddling from a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish, but in her mind she pretended it was the sexy man in the black cloak and Fedora wielding the paddle.

(Click here to listen to Episode 2 audio podcast.)

This week Eve learns more about the mysterious man in the black Fedora and struggles with her desire to learn more about the act of submission…

Episode 3: Eve is lured into a secret love cult.

 Written, produced and hosted by Jina Bacarr. Music: “Paris” Composer/ publisher: Dan Graham, PRS, Shockwave. Visit http://www.jinabacarr.com

As a reminder, The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe contains adult subject matter and is intended for readers 18+ only.

Coming up tomorrow, Friday, October 29th: Go to “NAUGHTY PARIS” this Halloween. A special holiday story vid!

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Last week Lady Eve was about to get paddled when she met a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish.

This week Eve gets her paddling…

(Click here to listen to Episode 1 audio podcast.)

 “The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe” is an audio podcast series Prequel to my Spice novel, Cleopatra’s Perfume.

Before Lady Eve Marlowe married a member of the British peerage, she was a cabaret dancer in Berlin in the late 1920s during the wild days of the Weimar Republic.

 Episode 2: Eve discovers the sublime delights of paddling 


Written, produced and hosted by Jina Bacarr. Music: “Paris” Composer/ publisher: Dan Graham, PRS, Shockwave. Visit http://www.jinabacarr.com


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Did you see the pilot of the new USA Network series,Covert Operations?

In this fab new series, CIA officer,  Annie Walker,  gets her first assignment:  secure intel from a Russian spy.

In my Spice novel, SPIES, LIES & NAKED THIGHS, Special Agent, Breezy Malone, a sex agent for the FBI, also has a rendezvous with a Russian spy to get intel. Here’s an excerpt:

“You’re late.”

The Russian looks into my eyes.  Curious.  Puzzled.  What does he see?  A sex kitten?  Or a TA special agent doing her job?  Does he care?  I doubt it.  Sex is addictive, I’ve discovered, and cuts across intelligence.  He isn’t the first informant I’ve known to risk blowing his cover to satisfy his perverted cravings.

“You weren’t at the bar,” I protest, keeping my voice light, hiding the ambivalent pleasure I felt being crushed up against the bare chest of the one-eyed Jack.  I experienced an intimacy with him I could never expect to find in badinage with a target.

“I got tired of waiting for you,” he says, speaking in Russian.  I understand him, though my Russian is merely adequate.  “Where were you?”

I purr, he smiles, hiding his anger behind the cold mask of his face.  “I was delayed by the street parade,” I tell him, jiggling the handcuffs at my waist and tantalizing him with the promise of naughty games.  I had no problem finding his hotel room.  Every Russian informant I’ve dealt with checks in under the name Ivan Ivanovich. John Smith.

“What’s important is, you’re here now.”  He slides his hand up and down my body, frisking me.

“Why the pat down, Ivan?” I coo in his ear.  “Don’t trust me?”

“I like my pussy clean.  No microphones.  No wires.”

“Satisfied?”  I notice his dull gray shirt, no tie, dark jacket.  Typical spy attire.  He pulls out my Glock and stuffs it into his jacket.  Disarming me wasn’t part of our agreement.  I try not to appear nervous.

“How can I be sure I can trust you?” he asks.  “You have no creds.”

TA agents don’t carry a gold badge and credentials like regular agents. I’m not sanctioned by the U.S. government like “the Gs,” special surveillance groups from the Bureau that keep track of the movements of people under suspicion. If I’m caught, it’s up to me to get a signal to my handler to ask for help.

“You were informed through the usual channels I’d be your contact.”  I give him my code name, Gemini Blonde.

His face lights up.  “You’re a blonde under that wig?”

I smile.  “Top and bottom.”

His eyes widen though his face is lined with tension.  From what I can see, he’s one nervous informant.  Crushed cigarettes lying in a saucer.  A bottle of vodka half-finished.  I have no doubt he can hardly wait to get his hands on me.

His mischievous smile widens.  “I had a bet with myself you’d show up.”

“Who won?”  I look around for anything unusual, like a tiny red light indicating a camera.  All I see is a bland brown and cream décor, double bed, round table and chairs, small white lamps, and a scary modernist orange painting hanging over the bed.  The over-worked AC barely moves the humid air around.

“I did.”  He lights up another cigarette, drawing the smoke into his lungs, then blowing it out slowly.  “I always do.”

“Always, Ivan?” I say in my sexiest voice, though I’m sweating in my dark angel armor-corset, pulling in my waist so tight I can only take short breaths.  A shiny, studded mistress leather bracer protects my right forearm and bracelet coils of black leather snake around my other arm.  Rings decorated with medieval motifs of chains and flowers and cheap gemstones adorn my fingers.  Pointy rhinestone studs on my collar dare him to get close enough to kiss me.

I smile.  If he wants to bad enough, he’ll find a way.  What he doesn’t know is my choker also contains a sensitive microphone hooked up to a sophisticated comms system embedded in the rhinestone studded collar to capture every word of intel that spills out of him.  I hid the receiver in a planter in the bar and a cell phone tower relays the signal back to the field agents listening on the other end in a nearby parked van.  The agents can monitor and neutralize intel gathered as well as sexual goings-on.  I hope they’ve got plenty of coffee.  This could turn out to be a tense and wildly erotic all-night session.  A cyber ménage à trois.

“You must have a drink with me,” says the Russian, pouring vodka into a glass chilled with square ice cubes.  “Before we get down to business.”

He hands me the vodka while his dark eyes rivet on the bare skin exposed above my thigh-high boots.  I swear I see him salivating at the thought of nibbling on me.

“I prefer martinis.”  Wiggling my shoulders, I reach inside the squatty glass and slide my fingers around a big ice cube.  Wet and cold.  “But I can use the ice to cool off.”

The Russian licks his lips with his fat tongue, watching me glide the slippery ice down my neck to the swell of my breasts, leaving a shiny wet trail on my skin before dipping the ice cube into my cleavage.  I shiver.  The ice is cold, yet sensuous.  The effect is so refreshing I let out a low groan.  That heats up his excitement.

Panting, saliva glistens in the corner of his mouth, Ivan puts out his cigarette, clenches his fists, then unclenches them.  He’s hot, but I’m just warming up.

Find out what happens next when Breezy puts that ice cube to good use in SPIES, LIES & NAKED THIGHS

Don’t forget to check outCovert Operations” on the USA Network.

It’s a fast-paced, exciting show with Piper Perabo as Annie Walker and an excellent supporting cast.

Especially fun to watch is former CIA special operative, Auggie Anderson.  According to USA official website, “Auggie  (Christopher Gorham), who is blinded during a mission. He is now heading up the tech ops department within the DPD. Auggie understands the intricacies of the massive bureaucracy of the CIA in a way that few others do.”

See you soon with more fun spy stuff!

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