Today I'm so pleased to welcome another of the
Pricked authors, the marvelous
Jayne Kingston whose book
Ink Lust was released yesterday. Does it ever sound good... Take it away, Jayne!
Thank you for having me on your blog today,
Anya! I hope you’re having as much fun as I’ve been having with all the
tattooed hotness happening over at Ellora’s Cave this month.
I’ve made a sort of unofficial observation
throughout my years of getting tattooed. (I have five that I’ve gotten over the
span of ten years or so.) Women seem to prefer having someone with them when
they sit in the chair while men usually go it alone.
I think for us women it’s similar to going
to the bathroom in pairs or groups. We don’t need someone to go with us, of course. It’s just more fun with
friends. Going to the bathroom together gives us a chance to gossip amongst
ourselves, snark about the skinny girl who’s skirt is way too short even though
she’s really hot and we’re just jealous, and borrow or share lipstick or a
piece of gum if one of us left ours at home.
Having a friend sit with you while you’re
getting tattooed is almost a necessary distraction because, let’s face it,
getting tattooed hurts like crazy. Even if you have a high threshold for pain
like I do, it freakin’ stings, right?
I had a friend for all three of my first
tattoos, and she was a godsend. She checked in with me every so often to make
sure I was all right. She kept me talking to keep my mind off the needle. She
got me something to drink when nerves kicked in and my mouth dried up like the
desert. She drove me home afterward when I felt a little shaky.
I’ve gone to several appointments alone as
well, and while my artists have all been extremely interesting to talk to,
there’s still nothing like having a girlfriend there for moral support as well.
Are you tattooed? Did you have a friend or
family member to keep you company? Have you/could you/did you go it alone?
Ink Lust Blurb:
Leni Brewster should have been disappointed
when her twin sister had to bail on holding her hand during her first tattoo,
but going to her appointment solo means time alone with the sexy-as-hell tattoo
artist who falls into the Do Not Touch category two-fold.
Only Jamie Rodriguez isn’t as off-limits as
Leni thinks. Privately single for months, Jamie finds himself more than looking
forward to having the hot little librarian in his chair. And when she
accidentally reveals a naughty secret about herself, he can’t get his hands on
her fast enough—he has to know what else she’s hiding under that buttoned-up
exterior of hers.
What he discovers sets his blood to
boiling, igniting a burning determination to test every single one of the
boundaries, both personal and physical, she’s set for herself.
Excerpt:
“No sister to hold your hand?” he
asked, moving around the tattoo chair standing at an angle in the middle of the
compact room. He reached between his legs and centered his rolling stool under
himself as he sat.
“Frankie came down with a cold, and
Jo didn’t want to leave her,” Leni said, meaning her eight-month-old niece and
twin sister, as she turned in a little circle and reacquainted herself with his
room.
She liked Jamie’s space, with its
dark blue walls and lush spider plants hanging in front of the small, frosted
glass windows set high up on the wall. His black lacquered bookcases were
filled with all sorts of odd statues, knickknacks, and an amazing array of
books that ranged from glossy picture books of all kinds to odd curiosities
that were fun to flip through. The walls were covered in framed photographs of
him with various celebrities he’d met and/or tattooed mixed with small
paintings of his.
“Poor little critter.” He made a
sympathetic face as he pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves. “You sure you
want to do this without her?”
It was Leni’s turn to get the
matching trio of tiger lilies, one orange, one pink and one red, she and Jo had
decided to get both in honor of their mother and their bond as sisters. Their
mother had raised them on her own without help from their father, his family or
hers from the time they were infants, and the three of them had always been extremely
close and fiercely protective of each other as a result.
The orange lily was for their
mother. The field behind the house she’d raised her girls in was full of them.
Her father—Leni and Jo’s grandfather—used to cut them out of the ditch in front
of her childhood home and burn them every year, calling them weeds. It broke
their mother’s heart, so when she had a place of her own, she filled her yard
with them and let them run wild.
When she had her girls, she planted
huge amounts of pink and red lilies to the field—pink for Leni, her quiet,
happy girl and red for Jo, her little spitfire.
“It takes forever to get back on
your books if I cancel.”
Not that he didn’t already know
that. Jamie was one of the best tattoo artists in the area, and in high demand.
His books were filled months in advance year round.
“She insisted I come without her,”
she added. She put her purse on the small chair in the corner of the room and
tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“I’d have cleared my schedule for
you,” he told her, his gaze steady on hers.
She pressed a hand to her stomach
as it dipped dangerously at the look in his eyes.
“Any day, any time.” His eyes never
left hers, even as he stepped on a peddle under the chair. A motor hummed to
life and the back and leg rests started to lay flat, making it look more like a
flat table than a dentist’s chair. “Any way, anyhow,” he added, so serious he
left no question about whether he was messing with her or not.
The heat rising in her stomach
burst and spread in a molten wave through her.
“Good to know,” she breathed,
crossing her arms to hide that her nipples had come quite fully to attention.
“Are you ready for me?”
His answering smile was positively
wicked.
Available
here:
Jayne Kingston is a fledgling erotic
romance author. She loves telling stories about people with a lust for life in
pursuit of love hereafter. You can find her all over the internet, starting
with her website: www.jaynekingston.com.
See you there!
