Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Heat by Jamie K. Schmidt Blitz + Giveaway

HEAT: Club Inferno
Loveswept Contemporary Romance
Written by Jamie K. Schmidt
Releasing, June 3, 2014


Style and seduction collide in Jamie K. Schmidt’s Heat—sure to please fans of Fifty Shades of Grey—as the world’s best-dressed men and women shed their clothing . . . and their inhibitions.
On the run from her abusive fiancĂ©, ER doctor Mallory Bryant arrives at her sister’s Connecticut resort desperate for a place to restore balance to her life. But Club Inferno is more than a haven for the rich and fashionable. Beneath its elegant facade is an erotic playground where dominants and submissives play out their fantasies. At first, Mallory is wary of Max Spencer, the martial arts trainer acting as her bodyguard—until he introduces her to passion so intense she wants nothing more than to surrender to his touch.
As one of Couture’s most skilled doms, Max enjoys taking Mallory to the limits of pleasure. It’s a dangerous proposition, and as their sensual games draw them into a relationship beyond the boundaries of pupil and master, Max starts spiraling out of control. But when Mallory’s violent past catches up with her, Max knows what he must do: draw her closer than ever before, even if it means risking a surrender of his own.


HEAT: Club Inferno: Excerpt from Chapter Seven
The scene: Mallory goes to a martial arts classs, where Max is an instructor.

Mallory was trying to figure out whether the emotion she felt most strongly when she walked into his classroom was mortification or depression. Mortification was winning out. Especially when Max gave her a big smile when she walked into class.
“Nice outfit,” he said with a smirk.
I like it,” she said a little defensively.
“The color looks great on you,” he said. Then he moved on to greet the other women in the class. She was a little surprised there weren’t any men. Then she remembered he had been walking around last night without his shirt on. Of course, the women would have flocked to him.
Depression was a close second. She couldn’t even go wild without screwing it up. Would Max have stayed if she were sober? Would he have even gone back to her room? She looked around at the other women. They seemed more interested in watching Max perform the moves with Clint than actually learning the pressure points. Not that she could blame them. Clint was hot stuff too. His hair was cut in a military style and he was built like he lifted weights for a living. Max was more lean muscle and faster. It was very entertaining watching the two men.
“You all know the hit to the groin area, right?” Max said, walking around. “But you’ve got several others that aren’t so well known or as well protected. Does anyone know why pressure points work?”
Mallory raised a reluctant hand.
“Yes, Mallory.”
“Because there are clusters of nerves in a small amount of space. Making the sensations there more intense.”
“Exactly,” he purred into her ear, and she startled at the warmth that spread down her body. There was another cluster of nerves in her body that wanted his attention and it certainly wasn’t for self-defense.
“Okay, if you’re in a dangerous situation, I want you guys to go for the eyes.” He pointed to his. “This is not a time to be nice. Eye gouge. Use your keys, whatever you have. But if all you have is your fingers, jab with your first two.”
The crowd was squeamish about that.
“Nose also hurts. Use your elbow if you can, or the heel of your hand. Watch me demonstrate.”
Max executed a palm strike, narrowly missing Clint’s nose. Then he whirled with his elbow and showed the same blow. “Using the elbow can be a stronger hit for a beginner because you can use the torque of your body to add to the shot. Your elbow is the strongest punch in your arsenal.”
He showed each woman how to position her body. His hands were professional and sure when he was instructing them. Mallory was beginning to think she’d imagined the sexual tension between them.
He paired them off and then prowled around the room, correcting grips and techniques. At the end of the forty-minute class, she had drunk two bottles of water and had a black-and-blue mark under her arm from when her partner got a little too into it.
“Max.” A woman waved him over.
Mallory’s eyes narrowed. Angie again.
“Can you show me what to do if I get grabbed from the back?”
“Sure. Everyone gather around so we can go over this.” Max got behind Angie and slung his arm around her neck. “This is crucial. Before I can get a good grip, point your chin into my elbow. That’s going to stop me from pushing against your windpipe.”
Angie rested her cheek against his bicep.
“Close. Get the point of your chin into the crease of my elbow.”
She rolled her eyes and did what he said.
“Excellent. Now from here, you want your attacker to be in pain. Stomp on his foot. Pretend to stomp on mine, Angie.”
She did.
“Or kick back with your heel into my shin or if you can, my knee.”
Angie rubbed her heel against his leg.
“Now, try to get away. Slam your elbow into his guts a few times. Then reach around and grab his pinkie. Pull it down hard. Don’t be afraid to break it. You want him to let go of you. Everybody got that?”
The class nodded.
“Good.” He released Angie and stepped back. She stayed where she was, touching her neck and eye-fucking him. “Tomorrow, we’ll go over blocks and counterstrikes. But remember, facing a bigger, more experienced opponent, your first line of defense is to call attention to your situation and run like hell. Any questions? Mallory, can I see you after class?”
Angie shot her a look of pure hate.
“Yeah, I guess. I’ve got a drawing class in another half hour.”
She gathered up her things while the class filed out. Only Angie remained and was now leaning in close to whisper something in Max’s ear.
“How did it go, girlfriend?” Anya hurried in, heels clacking on the hardwood floor.
“Okay, I guess. I have to stay. Max wants to talk to me.”
Clint looked over and bumped into the wooden man dummy. “Yeah, that hurt,” he said, rubbing his shoulder.
“Does he always get the upper hand on you?” Anya said, pointing to the wooden dummy.
“Some days you’re the windshield. Some days you’re the bug. I’m Clint,” he said, walking over to them.
“Anya,” she said, lifting her chin as if he were going to argue with her.
“Are you looking to take a class in self-defense?” he asked.
“I can take care of myself, thanks.”
Clint let his eyes trail down her body. “Those boots seem made for walking.”
“Better watch out they don’t walk all over you.”
“The heel would need to be a little higher for that kind of shenanigans,” Clint said, grinning at her.
Anya was at a loss for words. Mallory thought it was getting a little hot in here.
Max finished talking to Angie and gave her a hug. Mallory tore her eyes away from the bantering couple in front of her to glare at the voluptuous redhead shaking her way over to them.
“Clint, I need you now,” Angie said, wrapping her arm through his. She led him out of the room, flinging a triumphant smile at Mallory and Anya.
“He takes orders well,” Anya said. “I kind of like that in a man.”
“Yeah, but he likes women like Angie. She’s not very picky.”
“Apparently, neither is he.” Anya shrugged. “Oh well. Are we still on for lunch?”
“I’m dying for some pad Thai.”
Max came up on them, frowning. “Yuck, all that oil and the peanut sauce will just slow you down. You’d be better off with sushi.”
“I hate sushi,” Anya said. “Tastes like raw fish.” She blew them a kiss. “See you two kids later. I’ve got to get to my ‘Accessories Are for Everyone’ class.”
When they were alone, Mallory blurted out, “I’m so, so sorry for last night. I was stupid and drunk and I behaved like a sorority freshman on her first bender.”
Max locked the door and pulled the screens on the windows closed. “Don’t worry about it. You were fine. I’ve got a surprise for you.” Max pulled a large lollipop out of his gym bag. It was the size of a saucer, with rainbow swirls. He handed it to her.
“You wouldn’t let me have a dinner roll, but you’re going to give me this?” Mallory took the candy with a bemused smile. While she was glad the shades stopped the happy sunbeams from invading her hangover, she was wondering why he’d locked the door. “What’s going on?”
Max was fiddling with a projector in the back of the room. “What do you remember from last night?”
“I had a lot to drink in a short amount of time. I remember groping you inappropriately.”
Max looked up. “You never touched me inappropriately.”
“Oh!” Mallory gasped. “That must’ve been in my head. Wait, I was rubbing myself all over you.”
“You were actually trying to keep your balance.”
“That’s worse,” she said. “I thought I was being seductive, but I was being pathetic.”
“Do you like the ocean?” Max said.
He flicked off the lights. “Remember the candy store?”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes. “Now I do. This is really sweet. Literally. But what’s with the mood lighting?”
“We’re going inside that candy shop.”
Mallory’s heart started to hammer in her chest. Her hangover was forgotten as she looked at Max’s smiling face. “That’s a cheesy euphemism.”
“Metaphor, and don’t blame me. That was your description.”
“I was a little drunk.”
The mirrors on the wall flipped over until they were showing a matte surface. He turned on the projector and the room brightened. The entire wall of his dojo became a projector screen and a beach scene appeared.
“I can also do a roaring fire in a log cabin with snow falling down, or a penthouse overlooking a busy city.”
“This is amazing,” she said. “It’s like I could jump right into the ocean.”
Max stalked toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s like you could jump out of your skin. Relax. This is going to be fun. Otherwise we’re not going to do it.”
“Are we going to do it?”
He laughed. “Slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down. I want to fly. I want more of the Hot Spot. It kinda frightened me but it also stirred me, especially all the leather and restraints.”
“I can see that. You didn’t strike me as a BDSM girl.”
“I might be willing to learn.”
Max’s eyes sharpened as he looked her. “Really?”
“With the right teacher.”
“I can be that teacher. I had in mind doing some relaxation and visualization techniques with you today, but I can modify them.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe we can work you up to Inferno.”
 ~*About the Author*~

Jamie K. Schmidt has published more than thirty short stories in small-press journals and e-zines. She’s an active member in the Romance Writers of America, serving as the president for her local chapter in Connecticut. When not writing, she relaxes with a mug of hot tea and knits or makes beaded jewelry. She sells her handcrafted items at the Dudley Farm during the summer.

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