This week we are featuring romance BDSM author and a 2016 Golden Flogger award nominee Christie Adams, and her latest book in the Club Aegis series, called Passion’s Last Promise.
But before we dive in between the pages of her book, lets hear from Christie what does she like about the Mojito which is her favorite cocktail for Friday night.
What I like about a Mojito?: The combination of lime and mint, with the kick of alcohol! I first 
became aware of the Mojito while watching Die Another Day (2002). A few years later, when I met a friend in Manchester UK for a meal at an upmarket hotel, that was my cocktail of choice, before a meal that included my first ever taste of snails!
And here is how to make a Mojito:
- 50ml White Rum
- 1 dash Soda Water
- 2tsp Caster Sugar
- 2 Lime Wedges
- 1 Mint Sprig
- Ice
Place ice in beverage shaker then add in the rum, 1 lime wedge and sugar. Shake well and serve over ice in a high ball glass. Top off with a splash of soda water and garnish with a slice of lime and a sprig of mint.
So let us kick back relaxing with this sinfully delicious cocktail while we learn more about Christie’s book Passion’s Last Promise:
Blurb:
Hers to protect…his to serve…
When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, 
he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.
Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.
A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…
Excerpt:
“Problems, Miss Edwards?”
“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.
“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”
He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.
“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him 
my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”
She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.
As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood oozing from a cut to her palm. Broken glass littered the counter and the floor.
Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”
“It’s all right, I can manage.”
“No—you can’t. What happened?”
To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”
Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”
She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.
“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”
He quirked a questioning eyebrow.
“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”
“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.
For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.
She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.
Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.
Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.
Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.
Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.
“Dr. Northwood.”
He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”
Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…
After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she 
approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.
When asked how she got into writing, Christie realised she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.
From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the short story competition in a magazine.
Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterisation.
To find out more about Christie and her books, please visit her website (http://christieadamsauthor.com/) or email her at christie@christieadamsauthor.com.
better then the 3 of them combined! Best served with a few girlfriends and take them shot by shot! Multiple orgasms are always good 🙂
too dark and mysterious for a vodka drink, so I replaced the vodka with a smoky Irish whiskey. I’ve been trying whiskeys in place of vodka in a lot of drinks with good results. Vodka is boring to me. I like my drinks like my romance heroes, dark, complex, and full of flavor. Meanwhile, the heroine is sparkly and bubbly on the surface, and sweet to the core. When you put her and Mal together you get the perfect combination!
In a blender, combine ice, sugar and strawberries. Pour in lime juice, lemon juice, rum and lemon-lime soda. Blend until smooth. Pour into glasses and serve.
authored and self-published several short stories on Smashwords and Amazon. One such title is Rescuing the Titanic, a fictional account of the Californian arriving before the Titanic sank. I have also published several nonfiction articles for HubPages on medieval and renaissance historical figures. Feel free to click on the link below to access all 10 articles.
“This week instead of just one featured cocktail I went with two. Variations of both drinks often crisscross, so have a Hollywood Cocktail and a Raspberry Smash and think about our favorite starlet, Violet. A couple of these gets me in the mood to continue her second adventure in the Acting the Part Series.”
sugar in cocktail shaker; using muddler or wooden spoon handle, smash fruit mixture. Add ice; shake 10 seconds. Divide between glasses (do not strain), top with Champagne, and serve.
While we’re chatting, lots of our favorite characters will be back to shake things up in book two. Be ready for a virtual rollercoaster ride, as Violet perfects her art and gives the performance of a lifetime. Kick back and relax for a moment with these delicious beverages, and read up about 
Looking at his serious face made me laugh even harder. I grabbed my middle with one hand and covered my mouth with the other. My eyes began to tear from trying to hold the laugh in but it didn’t last long. The thought that I could be into that, whatever it was, kink, was more than my fragile mind could take. In a moment, I was near hysterical with laughter.
frightened me and I felt my heart beat in a quick rhythm trying to get oxygen to the brain that was clearly working against me, against the very nature of my being. How could I want more?
My favorite drink is Apple Pie on the rocks:
between my thumb and index finger. A familiar odor rose from the fuzz, pulling me into a vague memory. The smell was fainter than I remembered. It was intoxicating, indescribable, and invoked feelings that heated my cheeks to a rosy red.
blow the tiny feather away, but before the breath left my lips, the fuzz began to disintegrate. It crumbled into pieces so small I could barely see them, then drifted from my palm.
Archard, and what the hell is going on with the window?” His voice was louder and raspier than before, emphasizing that he would yell if he could.
the floor. Dust specks twinkled like tiny sparks as they swam in the air, swirling inside the light path.
and the strange little things that just disappeared for no reason. They had to mean something.
not write a book about one?” I have always struggled with my spiritual side, not so much doubting my beliefs in God, but more myself and the “man-made” side of religion. I felt like writing would be a good way to work some of those inner demons and doubts out. 
unfortunately. Discouragement is an emotion you will feel often, but I firmly believe that if you are diligent, you can make it. You may not have a fat wallet in the end, but it’s better to try and fail, knowing you gave it your best than avoiding the trials of being a writer when you could have been magical.
Merlot comes from a dark blue-colored grape variety that can be used for both a blending grape and for varietal wines. As the grape ripens early it makes it popular to blend with Cabernet Sauvignon and is the second most popular grape variety in Bordeaux wine regions. It is also among the most popular wine grapes planted around the world due to its flexibility in wine type production.
loved since the first day she laid eyes on him in the lobby of his company. But all that changes when she overhears him saying some unflattering things about her to another executive. Devastated Holland vows to teach him a lesson that he will never forget. Will her plan work or will it turn into something more than she had bargained for? Fall into the pages of 
veteran, married to her childhood friend, the mother of two adult children and one grand daughter. An animal lover, she currently resides in North Carolina. Her love of writing stemmed from the love of books. An avid reader, her collection boasts of thousands of physical books as well as countless number of ebooks. You can find her on Facebook as well as Twitter and Instagram where you can learn what she’s up to.
alcohol, vodka and peach schnapps (or sometimes archers instead) it’s just an explosion of flavour! Plus, it gets me pretty tipsy quickly 😛 
Into the Myth, published by CHBB, One Way Out and See No Evil, published by Vamptasy, are available for purchase on Amazon and Kindle.
edenfreed.com 