Seduced By Books: wicked in your arms

Put down your books for just a minute - and give a huge welcome to
SOPHIE JORDAN -
here promoting her latest release in historical romance -

WICKED IN YOUR ARMS

Not only does Sophie give us some insight to how she gives us that 'wicked' chemistry - and let me tell you, Sophie Jordan knows how to do the chemistry - she's also giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky commenter - be sure to read below on how to enter and check out all the blogs on the tour for more chances to win - after that, GRAB THIS BOOK!

Sophie Jordan on “All About The Steam”

I was recently lecturing at a workshop on the importance of chemistry and tension in a romance and someone asked me how one creates chemistry if you’re not writing an actual sex scene. The question surprised me a little because some of my favorite steamy scenes don’t involve characters engaging in sex at all. I define chemistry and “steam” – as the hero’s and heroine’s physical awareness of each other. And that’s the chemistry I strive for on every page – the struggle between a hero and heroine who are achingly, physically aware of each other when they shouldn’t be … or can’t be … or don’t want to be. That’s what happens in WICKED IN YOUR ARMS (book #1 of my Forgotten Princesses series).

Grier, an illegitimate heiress, is not the type of bride a crown prince would consider, but the hero, Sevastian, can’t stop thinking about her - or finding himself alone with her either (yep, opportunity for those steamy scenes). And Grier has no desire to wed an elitist prince who looks down his nose at her. Total opposites, ill-fated … there’s nothing that should attract the pair. And yet, well… that just raises the stakes and heightens the tension.

Here’s just a taste of the chemistry between this ill-suited pair:

Grier felt the clear shape of his hand, each press of his fingers over her arm. Awareness of their closeness, the intimacy of the situation, came crashing down over her. Her gaze flicked around the empty music room with its lonely instruments.

Her skin snapped, awake and alive. In fact all of her felt alive.

More alive than she had felt in quite some time.

Her gaze drifted, settled on his perfectly carved lips. Temptation incarnate. A man’s lips should not look so beautiful. He was as seductive as the princes of all her girlhood fairytales. For a moment she allowed herself to forget that this prince lacked the heroic qualities to go along with such looks, that he thought her unsuitable, a mere nobody rubbing elbows with her betters.

With a deep breath, she let herself forget all of that. She let herself step outside her numb self and dive into life.

Before she could regain her common sense and think to stop herself -- before she could let him think enough to stop her -- she stood on her tiptoes and slid a hand around his neck, delighting in the sensation of his silky hair against her fingers.

This. She’d have this before sentencing herself to a cold marriage of practicality, to a life of loneliness.

To check out more steamy goodness, you’ll have to check out Grier and Sevastian’s story yourself and see what I’m talking about! And look for Cleo’s book, Grier’s sister (another of my Forgotten Princesses) next summer! ;)

(First in Forgotten Princesses series) Prince Sevastian Maksimi needs a wife. An heiress with the breeding and dowry to breathe life into his kingdom. After years of fighting a bloody civil war, Sev has wrested his country from revolutionaries and looks to England for a bride who will replenish both his royal coffers and the royal nursery. He knows what it’s like to put the needs of his country before his own desires. Only duty matters. Only the most acceptable female will do. Attraction does not signify … especially his vexing hunger for the bold and brazen Grier Hadley. While he cannot consider the unseemly female as a bride, the enticing chit is the only woman he wants in his bed.
The bastard daughter of a man renowned as the lord of the London underworld, Grier Hadley might possess one of the season’s plumpest dowries, but she’s a far cry from the pedigreed debutantes out to land a husband. A truth that becomes glaringly obvious when she overhears a certain prince mocking her lineage. What makes the handsome wretch think she would even want him for a husband anyway? He might, however, be the perfect candidate for an illicit liaison.