Thanks for all the kind comments left on my stop on the Spring Fling Blog Hop – A Manlove Event.
The lucky winners of an ecopy of my crime drama Wild Hearted are Debra G and Shannon F! I have sent you an email. Congratulations 🙂
The Book Boyfriend Blog Hop is back and better than ever!
The authors of Evernight have a brand new team of swoon-worthy book boyfriend candidates. A sexy assortment of cowboys, Doms, detectives, millionaires, royalty, vampires, soldiers, and shifters are just a click away.
Get ready to find your next book boyfriend…
On this stop, Lea Bronsen interviews charmeur deluxe and rock ‘n roll bad boy Shawn Torien!
Lea: Hi Shawn! I’m so glad to have you here. We haven’t spoken since the release of your book, the erotic contemporary romance My Biggest Fan in August last year. Can you believe it’s been that long?
Shawn: No. It’s nice to see you, too, Lea. How you been?
Lea: Oh, busy 🙂 Let’s do this quick and easy – the readers have forty-something blogs to visit! So I have a few fan questions for you. Starting with scars, tattoos, and piercings. Do you have any, and if so, what do they mean to you?
Shawn: Yep, I have all of that. Scars from fights, mostly, when I was young and crazy. Piercings, too. When I founded the band, I wore a nose chain like Rachel Bolan, but it kept getting stuck in the girls’ hair and clothes, so it had to go. I still wear my jewels like a queen – silver rings on my nose, ears, fingers, navel… I swear, one day someone’s going to challenge me to have one pierced into my dick, too. As for tattoos, I have a snake on the side of my throat, with its tongue licking along my artery. A little higher, tattooed in black below my ear lobe, are the words ‘Bloodless’, the name of my groove rock band.
Lea: How cool. Who has been your greatest influence (parent, friend, idol), and why?
Shawn: That’s very hard to say. Being in the music industry, it’d be natural to name a rock star. Someone from the 70s, like Hendrix. But to answer your question honestly, the person who most influenced me is the one my book is really about: my biggest fan, my mother. It’s her love that kept me afloat. She’s the reason I was never found OD’ying in the gutter like some in the business were.
Lea: How do you think your colleagues would describe you?
Shawn: My colleagues, you mean the band? That’s easy. Before I met Sam, they’d describe me as the wild one. I was constantly drunk or drugged-out, and it showed in our recordings. It’s a miracle that we were able to put out any albums at all. Now, I still enjoy a beer or two, but thanks to Sam, I don’t have that crazy urge to self-destroy anymore. She’s made me appreciate new facets of life.
Lea: What is your greatest talent?
Shawn: Ha ha, you’d think playing the bass? Nope, my greatest talent is making a fool of myself. I love being the clown. Goofing around on stage, back stage… I keep pissing off the road manager – well, the whole record company – ’cause I don’t ever take myself or anyone else seriously.
Lea: What are you the most hopeless at?
Shawn: *sighs* Being romantic. I suck at candles and roses. Thank fuck Sam doesn’t care much for that, either. But holding hands, cuddling in bed, kissing sweetly, these are things she loves and I’ll always do for her. Always, from the bottom of my heart.
Lea: How deeply does your job define you as a person?
Shawn: Being a so-called rock star defines me and my everyday life completely. I can’t take a break or suddenly choose to be someone else. Wherever I go, there’ll be fans waiting for autographs, journalists asking for a few words… It’s a 24-four-hour thing. I am me, and my job is me, too.
Lea: What is your most cherished possession?
Shawn: C’mon, Lea, what kind of a question is that? My cock, without a doubt. Ha ha. You thought I’d say Sam? Well, yeah, of course she’s my most cherished possession, but without a cock I’m no good to her either. *grins*
Lea: You silly you! *laughs* Another stupid question – how do you feel, generally, about the opposite sex?
Shawn: I love girls. Like Gene Simmons, I’d have any girl, small and large, as long as she was willing. Now I gotta keep those thoughts to myself. Sam would freak out if she knew I’m still able to admire a nice ass or a pair of titties.
Lea: What were you doing before you met Samantha? How was your life different?
Shawn: Everything was different. My mindset, more than anything. The way I saw things, the way I wanted my life to be, and the way I chose to treat people around me. She made me change. Now I can’t imagine being without her. She’s not only sweet but quite the sexy minx, which is nice when I’m in need of—
Lea: —Okay, thank you so much for joining us on this blog hop, and thanks for your, ahem, honesty! 🙂
Blurb for Shawn’s book “My Biggest Fan”:
Shawn Torien is a handsome, arrogant bassist with the groove rock band Bloodless. At thirty four, he’s seen everything, been everywhere, and all is handed to him on a silver plate—groupies included. His rock star attitude is questioned when the record company’s young webmistress Samantha joins the band to cover their life on the road.
Since she has crushed on Shawn for years, he takes great pleasure in teasing her and pushing her away… until he learns about the woman beneath the surface.
What’s up for grabs?
How to enter? Answer this question in the comments below…
Do you think jewelry and make-up look hot on a guy, and why?
Be sure to leave the answer and your email address to be eligible to win a prize. Each comment gives you an entry for the grand prize (one per blog hop stop).
After you’ve met each hero, click here to vote for your favorite book boyfriend. You’ll earn an extra grand prize entry!
You’re one step closer to meeting your next Book Boyfriend…
Thanks so much for hosting me today. I’m incredibly excited to be sharing Maria’s story with you. I knew I had to write her story from the minute we meet her in book one of the Projects Series, The Orgasm Project. In that book she sets up her best friend with her brothers. In book two of the series, The Bear Project, she is there for her human work colleague Emmi, when she comes back from holiday mated to a bear shifter, and we get the first glimpse at Maria’s complicated love life.
“Oh, no,” Emmi said. “You’re not getting out of this so easily. Spill, Maria, what in hell is going on? You made it sound like some sort of dire emergency on the phone, so I drag myself here on my day off, and then you turn up half an hour late, and looking as though you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.” Emmi stopped and properly looked at her friend. “And you were wearing those clothes yesterday. I knew it, you’re seeing someone! Who is he?”
She had to be. Maria was always perfectly turned out, and she’d never wear the same clothes twice in a row, and she had sounded desperate on the phone.
Emmi crossed her arms and glared at Maria, and she squirmed.
“Them, actually, but you can’t tell anyone, promise me, please.”
“Two?” Emmi laughed. She couldn’t help it. Here she was on the verge of combusting with sexual frustration, and Maria had snared herself two guys. “What is it with your family and threesomes?”
Maria paled, and something in her intense blue gaze told Emmi that all was not well here.
“Promise me, Emmi, you mustn’t tell a soul. Not Anastasia or my brothers and certainly not Cole. Promise!”
Yes, it’s complicated, and dangerous, and Maria and her men break all the rules.
I recall my editor telling me in no uncertain terms that I’d better be writing Maria’s story next, when she read that bit in The Bear Project.
So, this is it. Maria gets her men…or does she?
You’ll have to read the book to find out. 🙂
Being together could mean death to them all, but walking away is not an option…
Bloodlines need to be protected at all costs and as a true-blood cougar Maria is expected to mate with a council-approved shifter. Too bad the one chosen makes her skin crawl for all the wrong reasons.
But running away already landed her in hot water once before. Wolf shifter Malachi Luca saved her life ten years ago, and then promptly disappeared with her heart. So much for true love.
Now time is running out and Maria is feeling the strain. Seducing Professor Silas Deacon should be a welcome distraction except the human turns out to be her mate, too.
And that damn wolf—yeah he’s back and determined to claim both his cat and his human. What’s a girl to do? Fight for love and enjoy the awesome sex, of course.
Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), m/m sex, bondage, spanking, anal sex
Maria couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, and she yanked on her restraints, the longer the two of them just stood there watching her through hooded lids.
Relax, little cat. Let us take care of you, and we’ll deal with the rest of the world tomorrow, or next week.
Silas winked at her, and Maria’s agitated cat calmed down. In fact the animal bowed her head in submission and hissed her approval when Malachi pulled his tee over his head. Her throat went dry taking in the hair roughened expanse of his chest and the force of his erection straining his jeans. Silas, too, shrugged out of his shirt and kicked off his trousers and boxer briefs in one impatient move. His magnificent cock bounced up to his navel, and Maria whimpered when he took himself in hand and stroked along his impressive girth. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the slow movement of that hand. Not even when Malachi tore her dress off her with one abrupt flick of his clawed hands.
Cool air fluttered across her exposed skin, and her breasts grew heavy as her nipples tried their best to punch through the lace of her bra. The bed dipped again when Malachi knelt next to her and with a few well-placed flicks of his claws cut away their lacy covering. He continued a downward path of pleasuring pain toward her mound, using just enough force to leave a red trail behind. The slow slide and drag of those razor-sharp nails of his caused her whole body to tense, as sensations bombarded her. More of her juices gushed out of her as her pussy clenched in desperate need to be filled, and her hips pushed up when he circled her clit with his claw, lazy, incredibly slow circles that had her panting and undulating her hips in an effort to increase the pressure to that little swollen nubbin.
“Lie still, princess, or so help me I’ll leave you hanging.” Malachi’s hot hand landed on her belly and pushed her hips back down on the bed at the same time as Silas stepped close enough for Malachi to grasp hold of his cock. The action meant he abandoned Maria’s needy clit, and she whimpered when he licked away the bead of pre-cum that had appeared on Silas’s dick.
“Fuck, yes.” Silas hissed the words as Malachi took all of his lover’s dick in his mouth and fondled his balls with one hand. The other still held her hips down, and Maria bit her lip as arousal fizzed through her veins. She wanted to come so badly, and she was so damn close that the slight wafts of air, created by Malachi bobbing his head up and down on Silas’s cock made her clit contract with need.
Silas fisted his hands in Malachi’s hair and fucked his mouth with an urgency and brutal need that he’d never displayed with her. She tore her gaze away from the sight of Malachi’s lips stretched across Silas’s dick to find Silas’s gaze riveted between her thighs.
Maria whimpered at the heat of that gaze, until Silas pulled away from Malachi and knelt next to her head instead.
Grasping his dick, slick with Malachi’s saliva, he ran it across her bottom lip, and Maria opened her mouth eagerly to take in as much as he could. Silas kept his hand on the base of his shaft to stop her from choking on his length, and she shot him a grateful look, as he started to fuck her mouth. The taste of him mixed in with Malachi’s earthy scent, and she swallowed the first spurts of his cum down.
“Fuck, that’s so hot.”
Malachi’s words sounded strained and slightly distorted as though he was more wolf than man right now, and Silas fucked her faster. One hand wrapped in her hair as he held her head at just the right angle to serve his needs, and the knowledge that he used her to his ends, had her grow even wetter. The rip of fabric as her underwear tore made her shudder, and there was the swipe of Malachi’s rough tongue, and her body tensed. His claws dug into her ass as he lifted her up to give himself better access to her drenched core, and she screamed as her first orgasm ripped through her body.
Malachi chuckled into her pussy and then stepped up his efforts as Silas pulled out of her mouth and his hot cum splashed over her breasts.
Maria was too far gone to care, because Malachi now pushed two fingers into her channel, and finding her sweet spot in record time sent her over the edge twice more.
By the time she could draw air into her lungs, Silas was removing her leg shackles and Malachi had rid himself of his trousers. His cock was just as thick, if not thicker than Silas’s. It wasn’t quite as long, and the head of his dick looked swollen and purple, the balls drawn up tight to his body as though he was barely holding in his cum.
Malachi’s stubble glistened with the evidence of her arousal, and when he bent to devour her mouth his with his, she tasted herself in with him. It pitched her need for him sky high again, despite her earlier orgasms, and she pleaded with him in between kisses.
He pulled away and with a wicked grin bent down to lick the sticky evidence of Silas’s cum of her breasts. Silas joined him on the other side, and the dual sensations sent her clit and pussy into overdrive. There was something so dirty and yet terribly arousing in the act, and when both men bit down on one erect nipple each, another orgasm ripped through her.
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
You know what the Sin Pointe guys and I love about being on blog tour? Getting to see all the cool cyber homes of our hostesses! Lea, your place is gorgeous and my rocker boys feel right at home. So big hugs from me and kisses from the guys at having us here with you today. I hope everyone enjoys this little bit of sexy sinfulness from the first official Sin Pointe Novel Free Read, Touch of Sin! If you’d like more time with Luke, just download your copy at the bottom of the post! Enjoy my friends, and happy reading! Love stories rock! Xoxoxo, Carlene
Touch of Sin (A Sin Pointe Novel Free Read) Blurb:
Lonerby guitarist Luke Willoughby and his band are under tight scrutiny since a press conference was ruined by a band member’s sudden vomiting attack. They’ve been suspended from the Sin Pointe tour and Luke fears they’ve blown it for good. The last thing he expects is the cute management spy sent to observe him.
No-nonsense Sarrie Walker knows exactly what she’s there to do, and makes no secret of it. Luke is impressed—and powerfully attracted to Sarrie’s strong and sexy innocence. When they end up stuck together in close quarters, Sarrie becomes dangerously irresistible—and very much off-limits. Does she hold Luke’s second chance? And if he gives in to her powerful allure, what happens to his heart?
Sarrie stepped carefully and mostly on tip toes out of the tiny, grime grouted shower. She’d had to waste one of their two usable towels for a floor mat and made sure to land on it.
The good news was that she no longer teetered on what she’d tell Mr. Keller when they made it to D.C.
Noah was sick and while he’d managed himself at these smaller gigs, he didn’t belong on a massive, nationwide Sin Pointe tour. She tried to picture him night after night and the binge drinking sessions. It hurt her heart to think of it but worse than that was picturing the landslide of sleepless nights Luke would have to suffer through caring for him. Sure, they might all hate her as a consequence, but that’s why it was called tough love. The truth hurt at first. And sometimes for a very long time after. But at least the person would be alive.
She grabbed for the towel she’d left on the toilet seat and found a loosely folded bunch of clothes. Not hers because they were too big and, she pulled the shirt to her nose, they smelled like Luke. “Mmmm.”
Her eyes popped open so wide she felt her lashes touch her brow bone. Yes, she’d just sighed at a man’s smell. It was a first. Maybe it was because her decision no longer hung over her head, but she could get lost in the fact she held the shirt he’d played in. She inhaled and the smell brought back visions of him serving as master of his guitar and the beads of sweat that had dotted his forehead, the one that hung from his nose, and the slick mass that had wet his chest hairs showing through the top of his V neck shirt. He’d been so lost in the music that he hadn’t seen her staring or cared about the sweat. She’d noticed more than she realized and had to stop and breathe through what that meant.
“So that’s it, Sarrie? You’re going there now?” she whispered to herself. “Unbelievable.”
Why shouldn’t she?
Because she’d never had these feelings for a man before? Because the two days she’d known Luke were clearly not long enough and she was here to study him, not fall into a foolish one-sided infatuation? Or was it that his life situation was too close a reminder of the one she’d finally saved herself and her father from? The heaviness of all those truths bowed her shoulders inward and down.
He’s gonna be dealing with Noah’s addiction for a long time to come, especially if he can’t stand to see his baby brother suffer. That’s what enablers did. She knew because she’d watched her mom tiptoe around her dad until the day Mom just didn’t come home.
Plopping down on the toilet seat, she bundled Luke’s jeans together with his shirt and hugged them. A sock fell from the pile. She found its match and could have cried at his selflessness. He was a good guy and he had a ton of hurt coming his way. For a second, she forgot where she was and nearly let her head fall back against the dingy bathroom wall.
Cold air leaking through the thin motel walls made her shiver. So did the thought of wearing Luke’s clothes. But after she made sure to dry off with the one towel, she pulled on her old panties and bra and then his jeans, which nearly fell right back down, and then slipped his V neck shirt over her head. The baggy look reminded her of the girls from TLC, but not one single day in her life had she ever felt crazy, sexy or cool. Well, maybe she could identify with the crazy part. Completely foreign to her was the thought of what Luke would think. And then she had an altogether more shocking thought. If his clothes were in here, what was he wearing?
Hot gusts of air puffed out from her lungs until she managed to calm them down. But all she could really think about were bare, strong shoulders and more than just the tiny glimpses she’d gotten of his chest in the V cut shirt she currently wore. She needed a drink of water. Badly. She wiggled her toes in his giant socks.
A Bit About Carlene:
Carlene Love Flores is a big fan of the stars (especially Orion), honest music (especially Depeche Mode), and her traveling family (no favorites there-she loves them all). These things inspire her intimate style of romance writing. She feels honored to be a member of Washington DC Romance Writers (WRWDC). Carlene currently lives in the D.C. area where she can often be found listening to live music and looking up at the sky on clear nights. If she could touch someone’s heart with her writing the way others have done for her, she’d say truly there never lived a luckier girl.
Find Carlene Here:
Find Touch of Sin (A Sin Pointe Free Read) Here:
Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/touch-of-sin-by-carlene-love-flores/
All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-touchofsin-1478925-149.html
Hello everyone! To celebrate the Spring Fling Blog Hop – Manlove Event, I’m giving away two e-copies of my crime drama Wild Hearted. All you need to do is leave a comment and your email. I will contact the winner. Good luck and have fun playing!
Gang leader Tomor is a shrewd, ruthless bastard who lives a lonely life on the outskirts of society. Using females has always been an easy way to let out steam, and he never expected a young man in his ranks to fall for him!
It’s true what they say—only the strongest survive.
These last weeks had been the worst, most grotesque days of his life. He hated his helplessness, loss of purpose, and obsessive need to delve in melancholia. He loathed who he had become: a lazy, dirty, unshaven bully, a self-pitying abuser, as far from the gang members’ ideals as they could tolerate. Not that he’d had particularly high morale earlier, but now he owned none, and his sole needs involved swallowing liquor and snorting coke. Any and every thing that stopped the torture and momentarily erased the memories.
It’s ’cause of Luz. She’s under my skin, that cat.
Ah. He grimaced from the overload and could no longer stand on his feet. He let himself slump on the floor and rested his forehead against the wall, clutching his hands and grinding his teeth.
But there is another way to soothe the pain.
He would have to stand up again, then. He kept his weapons in a cupboard next to the door.
A loud gasp to his back startled him.
“Shit, man! Are you sick?”
David squatted next to him and put a warm hand on his shoulder.
Fuck off. Leave me alone.
But the hand grabbed one of his arms and pulled, lifted, helped him up again.
The kid was strangely strong and eager. And really fucking annoying.
Tomor couldn’t speak or look at him. He was so beside himself he needed space, air, time to think. Trembling, breathing hard, he shoved the boy away with a hard move, not in a mean or brutal way, but a careless, selfish one, with concern only for himself.
His whole body shook. Not from cold. Not from abstinence. He needed to get his knife; it was the only thing that could help.
It’s not the first time. Just look at my other scars. They’re not all what you think.
Few would understand how self-inflicted physical pain—so searing, so gruesome it stole all your mind’s attention—overshadowed mental agony, granted a short glimpse of peace, helped make it through the next hours…
And that’s all I’m asking for. Survival.
This time he’d do the ultimate; reopen the scar Luz nursed the first time he kissed her. Their scar. Retrace it at the same place, right in the long, straight wound. Make it bleed and burn, the way his heart did. Cruel, consuming, the way the loss of his girlfriend devoured him.
Exhilarated by a sudden surge of anticipation, his head spinning but luminous, clairvoyant, he strode to the cupboard, found the dagger, and pointed the sharp blade at the thin, pinkish tissue.
The first incision would be the easiest. It would open the top skin layer like steel through butter and split neat, clean edges. Then there’d be no turning back.
The next layer, thicker and more resistant, would demand pressure, insistence. The beginning dribble of blood would blind his view, obstruct the precision. But that’s when it started getting interesting.
A faint, subtle tingle of pain would prickle in the apparent flesh like the sting from the tiniest of needles—only a tease, a seducing wink, a promise of sharper sensations the third cut would engender.
Sometimes it’s so good it gets me hard.
A blurry mass slipped into his vision, a dark shape, filling his sphere. Someone muttered, “Don’t.” The word was so close and present he instinctively moved his head back.
A warm, tentative palm set on his right wrist, its strong fingers curling around it, locking and—firmly pulling his arm away, shocking him, awaking him.
Why such force? You intruder. Violator. Leave me alone.
A choked gasp, a whine, words expelled with a short breath. “Please don’t do this.”
He raised his slow eyes to meet the ones vibrating in front of him and refocused on their intensity, swallowed their strength, captured their intent.
He opened his mouth to speak, but instead his body took a long, profound breath, one he’d held in an eternity, and filled his sore lungs with coldness.
At that moment, he became aware of the galloping in his chest, the pulsing in his throat, the throbbing at his temples. He curled his wicked lips into a grin. It wasn’t over; he could still do it.
He tugged at his locked wrist, pulled at the restraint, willed the opposition to relent.
You don’t know who you’re playing with.
“No, don’t hurt yourself.”
A tone so strangled, a plea so sincere he chilled his smile and agreed to concentrate on the obtrusion.
David’s eyes were level with his, somber but glowing like the blackest of crystals, battling, exuding, demanding.
At the soft touch of the boy’s breath on his lips, Tomor realized their closeness, their intimacy, their need. Inches away. A presence as invasive as rape, yet so fervent he could neither ignore nor escape from it.
But I can’t allow it. I’m not like that, kid.
He made another pathetic attempt of tugging at his cuffed wrist but more so for show as voices, screams, yells of fury raged in his mind, filled him, cluttered him.
Still—for some reason—he could not summon enough strength or meanness to push David away, refuse his proposition, deny his want. He could only endure.
If I close my eyes I’ll be all right. If I close my eyes and pretend it’s her, she will save me.
The boy’s short, warm breaths approached and Tomor resisted the instinctive, inborn urge to turn away. Instead he held his own, remained still and waited.
That’s what loneliness did to him. It twisted his mind and drove him slowly crazy until he no longer knew right from wrong. Like a lost ship at sea rolling in endless monstrous waves, carried further and further away from any sense of time or direction or self.
In the end you take whatever comes your way and accept its comforting presence, for without it you might as well drown in the gigantic haze of nothingness.
Instant, brutal shock rushed through his entire system as foreign lips softly brushed his, leaving a trace of manly scent to his nose before retreating. He just barely held back a gasp of disgust.
No time to recover. The lips closed in again and met his this time, touched, pressed, lingered; and this first kiss rocked him so hard a low grunt of disapproval and shame built in his throat. How could he let this happen?
Perhaps he refrained from rejecting the boy’s caress because a familiar stirring grew in his groin, proving his loss of will.
While reeling in stupor, all muscles tense and still, he caught himself thinking that this was no different from a girl. David’s second hungry kiss told him a boy’s lips are equally warm and wet and lusting, and why would that be such a wrong thing?
He let the knife drop in a gesture of surrender and consent, heard it clatter on the floor, felt the freeing of his wrist, but still wouldn’t and couldn’t open his mouth to let a man in.
Sparkling blue-green eyes flashed in his mind, skimmed his awareness and left as soon as they came, as if taken away in a gust of wind.
Eyes watering, he lifted his chin so high the boy had to let go.
My Luz. I miss you so much, my sweetie, my love.
He opened his eyes and steered them to the ceiling while one lone tear, finally released, rolled down his cheek and dropped on his chest, losing speed and heat as it slid and met resistance.
I miss you so!
The second jolt of shock came when the boy’s wet tongue grazed his nipple, pressed against the small bud, made slow, teasing circles around it before moving to the other and nibbling it. The tongue licked its way down to his stomach, crossing scars and hairs with shameless assurance and purpose, leaving fresh wetness in its path.
Staring hard at the ceiling, he let it happen. His treacherous organ had already reacted anyway, accepted the invite.
Expert hands opened his pants.
Again he closed his eyes and, teeth grinding, shook his head at the horror of the situation.
So this is how low I will sink.
These were his last thoughts because when the boy’s hot mouth enveloped his cock, he could no longer make any sense of anything. He simply let himself drift away.
The Arrangement by Bethany Kris
Genre: Erotic, Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense
When a Cosa Nostra girl and a Bratva boy meet…
Nothing will stop the Bratva mob boss from taking back what’s his, and once he has her, he’ll do anything to keep her…
Viviana “Vine” Carducci’s and Anton Avdonin’s marriage was decided more than two decades ago. The deal between leading mafia families has more on the line than anyone knew, even if the Bratva and Cosa Nostra shouldn’t mix. When Vine’s family is murdered and she’s left with nothing more than her grief to survive the mob world alone, she believes the arrangement won’t see the light of day.
Anton can’t allow the one woman he was supposed to love get away. At the possibility of her death, he steps in to save her with guns blazing, knowing exactly what it might cost him: everything. But it’s been nearly a decade since their last meeting, and he can’t help but wonder if the woman he took back is the same girl he fell for all those years before.
Protected and loved, Vine is unable to forget their shared moments a lifetime ago, or the future she knows they’re owed. When an old flame of Anton’s shows up to rip the veil off the carefully constructed secrets he’d been hiding, she learns that nothing about her life is as it seems. But, that’s nothing compared to the bomb about to blow. Can Vine see beyond the pain and blood to take what she always wanted? And just how far will the mob prince go to keep her safe?
In a world where violence, deceit, and greed reign, your life is not your own, and sometimes, love has to be arranged.
“Why all the safety precautions if you’re expecting me to live openly here?” she asked. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
Anton cocked a brow. “I’m hoping your uncle will be a lot less brazen if I’m not keeping you hidden.” He still hadn’t let go of her sides, those teasing thumbs of his rolling gently against the undersides of her breasts in tender motions. “Deny that you want this, too, Vine. You’ve always wanted me. You want this life because you were meant for it, and I have waited more than long enough to get you here living it with me.”
“You’re not giving me a choice. I’ve spent the last three years thinking that this arrangement was over, and then you come in with guns blazing and a house on lockdown, Anton. That’s … It’s not fair. You signed my death warrant doing this.”
Immediately, his hands left her skin. She wanted them back, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit that fact. “It was already signed.”
Placing his hands to his knees, Anton shook his head and muttered, “He was already getting ready to put out a hit on you. That guard of yours was probably going to be the one to do it to get his in with the family. I was hoping to see you back in the states before I approached you myself, but Sonny didn’t give me the chance.”
No one likes to off a woman, Vine.
She couldn’t help but remember Sam saying that. Would he have done it?
“You can’t possibly know that for sure.”
The look he gave turned her stomach with fear. “I can and I do, Vine. There are men in that organization who are less trustworthy than a snake. Even their eyes and ears can be bought. I stepped in now because I needed to, not because I thought you were ready, or that you wanted me to.”
An ache settled in her chest. How was she supposed to trust him?
“Sonny wouldn’t kill me simply because I wanted to marry you, Anton. I’m not worth a damn thing to him alive, nothing more than a nuisance he has to look after.” Frustrated by his lack of expression, her bitterness rose. “Dead I’m worth even less though, right?”
“Dead you’re worth nothing,” Anton admitted, hurting Viviana a little more. “That is exactly what your uncle wants to achieve. For secrets to remain hidden from his family and for his power to remain intact.”
That only left her more disturbed, emotions rolling from one thing to the next without ever landing on just one feeling. “Our families won’t merge now, regardless if we’re married or not. So you lied to me earlier when you said that’s what this was about. A marriage is only going to cause more issues. I’m worthless to the Bratva; you practically said so yourself.”
“No, you’re worth a great deal, especially if you’re married to me.”
“You’re hiding something from me,” she realized, hurt that he was lying again, even if it was by omission. Viviana couldn’t decide which stung worse—that he didn’t trust her, or that he thought she didn’t deserve to know whatever it was. “What aren’t you saying?”
Anton looked stricken, fingers drumming a quick beat on his thighs. “I gave them my word. It was supposed to be them explaining this to you if they desired to—all the reasons and things that happened years ago. It’s not my story to tell, and I promised. My word is all I’m worth if you consider the way I live; without it, I have nothing.”
Reaching out, he cupped a hand over her knee and ran it along the inside of her jittery leg. With his fingers moving so softly against her inner thigh, he pressed his fingertips close enough to her center to make Viviana throb with need. Murmuring, he said, “Can’t you try to trust me? Viviana, you know me … you do.”
She ignored his plea. “Who, Anton?” His fingers pressed harder at her words, grip tightening when Viviana refused to react to his motions. What she really wanted was more. So much more of his hands on her body, but she didn’t dare speak that out loud. “Was it my father, or Nicoli? Who?”
“I can’t answer that right now.” With that, he stood and held out a hand for her to take. “Come, I’ll get you back in bed for the evening. Let you rest and get the last of that sedative out of your system. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”
Too exhausted to argue, her palm met his. Anton’s lips touched down to Viviana’s fingers in a flutter of movement. She wouldn’t have noticed the quick kiss had she not felt the heat of his mouth brushing along her sensitive skin. She might as well have been sixteen and falling for him all over again.
Viviana couldn’t figure out if she was willing enough to let him do it. It didn’t help that she wasn’t all too sure if she knew this man anymore. Was he the same one she wanted all those years ago? Had his feelings remained the same nearly a decade later … was that even possible? Could someone want another that much?
What was even more frightening was that with his blue eyes watching, and his hand connected with hers, waiting, Anton still felt like hers.
Just like he always had.
Click here to enter the giveaway and grab your chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card!
I’m thrilled to welcome fellow crime writer Bethany-Kris to my blog and ask her a few questions!
Hey 🙂 Love to have you here. Where do your ideas come from?
Anywhere. From everything. Music a lot of the time. Interests that are probably totally unhealthy and I feed them through writing. That sort of thing.
What kind of writer are you?
Well, I don’t sit down and plot from point A to point B. I do, however, know the entire plot from start to finish inside my head and I can’t begin writing until all the pieces have come together. Think old black and white silent movie clips. That’s sort of how I see it.
How do you balance life and writing?
I don’t. Honestly, as sad as that is. I haven’t figured out how yet. Two young boys, a spouse, two dogs, two cats, and a full time job mean I’m always up on my toes. There’s never rest. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I know all about that. What drives you to write?
Stress. Depression. That’s what pushed me to it in the first place. It was an outlet I needed. An outlet I still need. No matter what, I’m getting something from it. Something healthy and good for me emotionally and mentally.
Absolutely! Tell us about the experience of writing this book.
The Arrangement in particular was a book that began with the hero. Anton began to chat idly inside my brain and the next thing I knew, he was all I was thinking about. Who was this Vine he kept mentioning? What was their story? Things of that nature.
Then, the research began. It’s mafia inspired, and while I’ve always had a healthy interest in organized crime, this for me was different. I wanted to understand the men, the women, the job, so to speak. I actually went so far in my research as to delve into real families of organized crime. Who they were, what they were like. Between the lines, attitudes, behaviors, and an understanding began to develop. A lot of people have asked me about my research and it was much more than just simply Google and Wikipedia. A lot more.
And then came the writing. When I started to write The Arrangement, it was a steady 5 to 10k a day until it was finished. Anton wouldn’t shut up until I finished. The Life, the sequel, was finished at much the same pace. I’m currently working on the third.
What is your favorite thing about writing?
The way it relieves. I can be writing the most aching scene and I’m still the most relaxed and relieved I’ve ever been. It comes easy.
And what is your least favorite?
Editing. It’s not that I can’t, I just simply don’t enjoy the process.
Tell us about one of your own writing quirks.
Occasionally I’ll drop a pronoun. Luckily I’ve managed to catch onto this odd quirk. I’m also Canadian and that slips into my writing a lot. I’ve caught a couple of reviewers saying, “Her phrasing…” Yeah, that’d be because I’m a hick of sorts living in nowhere, Canada. We have some odd ways of speech. Ha ha.
*laughs* As an author, what scares you the most?
I used to say failure, but I’m not even scared of that anymore. Failure comes in many forms. No, now I’d say taking my first steps into self-publishing for The Arrangement’s sequel and third installment literally scares the crap out of me.
And what gives you most gratification?
Seeing something come to a proper close. Giving that proper finality.
Occasionally I like/need the validation that I am doing something right, also.
Which authors most influenced your writing?
Many. And they span many, many genres. Think of the classics. Think of the moderns. Think of the in-betweens. Many.
Okay, what’s next for Bethany-Kris?
Finishing out The Russian Guns, I hope.
Last but not least, who’s your biggest fan?
Between my spouse and my gram, it’d be hard to say. They both wear their respective pompoms.
Thank you for chatting with me, and much luck with your books!
I’m on All Romance Café today talking about ménage, of all things!
Until a few months ago, ménage was an unfamiliar concept for me. I was the traditional boy-wants-girl kind of writer, sometimes blending in a little steamy manlove that made me feel oh-so-daring and controversial. But three, four partners, or more?
Little did I know joining the Evernight family of imaginative and talented authors would open my eyes to more… combinations. So much so that in my third project, the erotica High Risk Fever, I pushed all personal boundaries aside and drove my main characters, one woman and three men, to participate in my longest and most complex sex scene to date, with 8,000 words spanning over three chapters! To keep a strict choreography of four persons’ actions and reactions wasn’t easy but definitely a ton of fun. All the while making sure everyone’s feelings, sensitivity, comfort level, needs, and character developments were taken care of with as much understanding and respect as possible… as well as pushing their boundaries and unveiling a few secret desires. Phew! Needless to say, it is one long, intensive scene that will have you sweaty and breathless and turning the pages for more. I can’t wait for you to read it once the novel comes out!
Read my full post on ARe Café.
Title: Harlot at the Homestead
Genre: Historical Western
Series: The Duggans of Montana, Book #1
Publisher: Totally Bound
Word Count: Short Novel – 33,707 words
Release date: 4th April 2014
The Duggans of Montana work hard and play harder.
Kenan Duggan looks out for his twin sister Rosie, and Matthew and Emmett, their two younger brothers. The Wild West is a tough place to live and each one strives to carve out their life on the land whilst battling the prejudices, contradictions and restrictions of an ever changing society.
They say that blood is thicker than water…but can these siblings find love and still hold on to family ties?
Harlot at the Homestead Blurb:
Sometimes retribution finds its own way but sometimes it needs a helping hand.
When Catherine Montgomery shows up at Kenan Duggan’s homestead, she expects him to be surprised. She’s been gone two years and she’s devastated to hear that her former fiancé was forced to give her up for dead.
Catherine never stopped thinking about Kenan and hoped that they’d be reunited one day. She has suffered at the hands of another but nothing tortured her as much as being apart from the man she loves. She doubts, however, that Kenan will be able to forgive her when she reveals her secrets.
As Kenan battles his desire for revenge, their mutual desire reawakens like a creek bed in the rain, and soon they are swept up in rediscovering their all-consuming passion.
Retribution often finds its own way in the Wild West and the men to blame for Catherine’s disappearance may well find themselves paying for their crimes in unexpected ways.
That’s if Kenan doesn’t get to them first!
Kenan stopped at a point where the bank grew flatter and the grass gave way to silt and sand. The water was shallow and crystal clear over the stones and Catherine suddenly realised how hot and uncomfortable she felt. High summer in Montana was usually hot and uncomfortable but this year it seemed hotter than hell. Beads of perspiration trickled down between her bosoms and the backs of her knees were clammy beneath her stockings.
“Let’s go in. It looks wonderful!”
Kenan smiled at her. “You always loved to swim, Catherine.”
They removed their shoes and outer garments then stood awkwardly.
“What now?” he asked.
“Just like always!” She chuckled.
His fingers trembled as he unhooked the front of her corset. He let it drop to the ground on top of her dress, then moved closer to her and encircled her wrist with his hands. Her stomach flipped at the passion she saw in his gaze. He wanted her and loved her still but she had not yet revealed all to him. When she did, she feared that he would cast her aside like a broken saddle or a worn out boot.
“Hey!” He tipped up her chin with a fingertip. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, just memories.”
“Good ones I hope.” He sighed as he bent his head to kiss her.
At first the kiss was soft and she relaxed into the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath. But as he pushed his hot tongue between her lips, she moaned and slid her hands through his hair. She filled her palms and her fingers with it then pulled his head towards her.
As they kissed, he loosened the waistband of her bloomers and she felt them slide down to the floor. The warm afternoon air caressed the naked skin of her legs and fluttered the edge of her chemise. Kenan held her body against the length of his and she felt his erection rock hard against her belly.
“What is it?” he asked breathlessly.
“Perhaps we’d better cool off?”
He looked down at the large bulge at his groin. “Maybe.”
He shrugged out of his union suit sleeves then slid it down over his legs. Catherine swallowed hard as she stared at his body. The hard cock stood to attention, pointing outwards from the dark curls of his pubic hair and pulling her eyes towards the balls beneath. He was a perfect male and she yearned to become one with him, to take him deep inside her and ride him until they both reached the point of no return.
“Now you!” His voice was husky but his tone was firm.
She undid the button at the front of her chemise then lifted it over her head. It was sheer as gossamer and featherlight. When she met his eyes again, the intensity of his gaze startled her. He looked so fierce, like he was about to explode with need and desire. He took her hand and led her towards the water’s edge. The cool river lapped at her toes and her nipples hardened, making her full breasts tingle.
“You’ll get used to it!” He eyed her naked form. He waded into the water until it reached his thighs then turned to face her. Catherine watched as goosebumps rose on his arms and the neat sack of skin that held the essence of his masculinity pulled itself up towards his body. But his erection still stood firm and ready, the tip shimmering with a diamond like bead of moisture.
In a flurry of excitement, she pulled the pins from her hair and let its vermillion waves cascade down her back. The breeze lifted it and swirled it around her face, teasing her by limiting her view of Kenan. She flicked her head to push it aside and fixed her eyes upon the man she loved. Unable to resist any longer, she ran to him, splashing the icy water over them both as she did so. The river’s chilly grip travelled quickly up her legs and the tiny hairs on her neck and her arms stood on end.
Kenan grabbed her and pulled her with him into the flow and Catherine gasped as the cold water enveloped her, touching her inside and out. The sensation of the chilly water delving between the hot sensitive folds of her most private place was delicious and it heightened her desire to feel her lover’s cock there too.
“It’s freezing, Kenan!” She giggled.
He laughed then flicked water into her face. She shook her head, her thick hair heavy with the river. He reached out and tenderly spread her hair out so that it floated around her like a gathering of eels come to inspect her nudity.
“Come here!” Kenan embraced her.
Their cold, wet skin and his solid length prodding into her stomach fired her yearning to have him. She wanted to possess this man once more, before he knew the full truth. The fear that he might abandon her when she confessed all darkened her mind for an instant, like a cloud passing over the sun. But she shrugged it away, refusing to allow it to spoil this precious moment. Kenan pushed her towards the bank where he laid her on her back in the shallows. He eyed every inch of her body. The stones and sand were hard and cold beneath her skin but the fire in his gaze warmed her like the hot summer sun.
He stroked his hands over her stomach, across the curves of her hips then back towards the apex of her thighs. She moaned as he parted her legs and ran the fingers of his right hand between her swollen lips then over her aching bud. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a touch so experienced and knowledgeable that Catherine felt all sense and reason slipping away. Lost in passion, she lifted her hips towards him, eager for him to fill her up as she knew only he could.
Whilst he massaged her, he used his free hand to drip chilly droplets of water over her burning cunny. She flung out her arms and grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails wantonly into his flesh and pulling him down onto her, unable to wait another second. His body moulded to hers as if it were the other half of her and she flung her head back as he drove his erection into her soft flesh.
As excitement consumed him, he rocked into her, harder and faster and she spread her legs farther to take him deeper. The water splashed around them as they moved in perfect union and the current flowed over them, caressing their skin and creeping into forbidden places as if to join in their lovemaking. Catherine bit into Kenan’s shoulder when the tensing and twitching of her pussy signalled the onset of her climax and her sensitive bud throbbed then burst into countless little explosions like lightning bolts piercing the night sky.
The aftershocks flooded throughout her entire body and her hot juices flowed from her loins. Her excitement spurred Kenan on and he thrust harder and faster before freezing as he reached his own shuddering release.
He rested his weight on his elbows and looked into her eyes. “You are amazing,” he whispered as he gently pushed the wet hair from her forehead. “No one should ever hurt you. Ever.”
Buy Links: Totally Bound – early download
Total-E-Bound Blogspot on 12th of every month: http://totalebound.blogspot.co.uk/
BLURB: When photographer Cloe Gaige gets assigned to cover the Pro Kiteboarding finals in Morocco she never expects to run into her childhood crush. Back then, their age difference is what caused her to pull away. Would he resent her for how she treated him back then?
Fully grown, pro kiteboarder Kai Shephard is a tough competitor used to going after what he wants…and getting it. When he catches sight of Chloe in the crowd with her camera, nothing can stop him from trying to be with her again. Except Chloe, that is. Would she see him for the man he is now?
“I’m glad you’re here, Chloe.”
He turned his head toward her and looked into her eyes, his hands pressed into her back, drawing her closer. “Because I’ve thought of that night hundreds of times.” His words were loaded with meaning.
Chloe skimmed her eyes over his handsome face. He was positively smoldering with emotion. She swallowed hard. This was the moment, the one she would never forget. Her eyes locked on his and her mind churned over the different signals and sensations her body was picking up.
“Have you?” he whispered.
They were so close. His lips were right there, and he could kiss her any second. His deep, dark eyes were drawing her in.
He lay still, waiting, but she said nothing more. “You have to give me more than that,” he said. “I still don’t know what happened. I thought you liked it when I kissed you.”
Anxiety filled her. It was time to come clean. What would he think of her reasons? How would he see her after she admitted what a weak person she was? “I did,” she said blurted. “It was just….”
His clasp on her back remained firm and he turned his body to face hers so their fronts were pressed together. “Just what?”
Chloe could feel her face filling with the heat of embarrassment. Did he really want to talk about it? “It was just…school and my friends and….” She stopped and buried her face in his chest, not wanting to say anything more. He smelled so good. The warm scent of athletic male and ocean breeze.
He grasped her chin with his hand and lifted her face. “What else?”
Looked like she wasn’t going to be able to get out of explaining. He had that earnest look in his eyes again, the one she remembered from long ago.
“I need to know,” he said.
She couldn’t deny him. “Our age difference,” she said with a wince.
“Seriously?” His breath whooshed out with his surprise. “I mean, I know you’ve made comments about it before, but that was the reason you wouldn’t talk to me anymore?”
“Yes. No. Sort of,” she said in a rush. “Couldn’t you see how strange it would have been?”
She sighed. “Of course not. You are such a male. If you were a teenage girl you would understand.”
“What is there to understand?”
She pulled away from him and lay on her back once again. “All the pressure,” she said. “To fit in, to be cool, to be part of the group.”
“And you and me would have been a problem?” he asked, sounding hurt.
The tone in his voice caused her long-held guilt to well up. “Not a problem, exactly. Just…not usual. I don’t think the guys in the senior class we always hung out with would have accepted you even if some of my friends had,” she explained. “Come on, Kai. I’m sure you remember what it was like being a teenager.”
He ran a hand through his hair and stared up at the stars. “I do but what I don’t remember is ever having problems fitting in.” After a moment he gave a great exhale. “Okay, sure. I guess I can understand. Not that I’ve ever lived my life caring about that stuff, but…I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.” Using the arm still cushioning her head and shoulders, he turned her to face him again. “But you did like me then?” he asked.
He smiled. “And what about now?”
She felt shy and squirmy under his gaze but admitted with hesitation, “Yes.”
He beamed at her response. “And does our age difference still bother you? I’m twenty-one and you’re twenty-three. We’re always going to be a couple of years apart.”
She looked away from him feeling very shy and hating it. He still liked her? Was it possible after she’d rejected him? A small thrill shot through her stomach. “No. Why should it bother me?” she said, with a small shrug. Chloe was sure she looked braver than she felt.
“Because I want to be with you, Chloe. I want what was lost to us before.” He searched her face with his eyes and then added in a low voice, “And because I’m going to kiss you.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
From a young age, Jewel Quinlan had an abundant imagination and strong desire to write novels. She particularly enjoys writing paranormal and fantasy romance. An avid traveler, she has visited fifteen countries so far (which she enjoys using as settings in her novels) and has plans to see more of the world. She has a particular fondness for Bavaria and studies the German language as one of her hobbies. During the day, she works as a pharmaceutical sales representative and, at night, she writes romance. She currently lives in Orange County, California with her two dogs; Shimmer and Penny.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT JEWEL QUINLAN:
A Sonny the Scoundrel Novella
Erotic / Fantasy
By Sonny Zae
Release Date: May 19, 2014
Sonny is so handsome, he doesn’t need magic to get what he wants, except when he gets into trouble. And, he’ll do anything for love or money, except work. So, the thought of marriage represents the worst of all possible worlds, a danger he avoids at all costs.
His plans for getting rich the easy way—by stealing—go awry when he meets Ariella. She is not only lovely to look at, but just may be as slippery and greedy as he. Better still, she becomes highly stimulated at the prospect of helping him hijack a treasure.
But, in addition to helping him steal “goald”, the cunning Ariella might just steal his scoundrel heart.
About Sonny Zae
Sonny lives in a small town on the edge of reality. His only remarkable characteristic is imagination. He ignored his grade school teacher’s repeated admonitions to stop daydreaming and get to work.
Sonny’s book WIZARD SEEKING TROPHY BRIDE, is available on the Kindle. It is a story about the exceptional difficulties involved in finding love and happiness for an elderly and strange wizard, not to mention the difficulties of dealing with an elderly relative—an elderly relative who is also a wizard.