Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!

---

 

 

Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies and surrender to the truth in his heart?

When a barely-legal blonde with a lithe, young body shows up at the Devil’s Outlaw MC strip joint to audition as a dancer, Ian “Bowie” Davies wants nothing more than to burrow between her long legs and claim her. She’s too young for his dominant side though, too innocent for the sharp edges of his darker desires. And way too hot to let another man touch her — a thought that has his hands itching to use his signature knives against any bastard who messes with his angel.

Hannah Harris ran away from home at age eighteen, desperate to escape the prison of her strict parents. Determined to delight in the sins her father preaches against, she puts her ballet talents to work, using a stripper pole to make a living. Dancing for Bowie and his blade has her panting to explore some of the “firsts” she planned to save for her future husband.

But when Bowie and his brothers attempt extortion beyond her parent’s ten-thousand dollar reward for Hannah’s safe return, she’s left with a difficult choice. Offer up the evidence to put the notorious biker gang behind bars, or protect Bowie and chalk the shit-show up as a lesson learned and begin her independent life anew — without the lying bastard who owns her heart.

Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies on Hannah’s eyes and surrender the truth in his heart to win her back?

*Warning: Spanking, anal sex, knife play

 

​PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/bowiesangeldo1

15% Sale at Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/bowie-s-angel-devil-s-outlaws-mc-1-b-2834

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ND35X1F

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bowies-Angel-Devils-Outlaws-MC-ebook/dp/B07ND35X1F

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130503668

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bowie-s-angel

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1451714897

 

 

ADULT EXCERPT:

Too motherfucking young, but it was no wonder she’d gotten past Brewer. Mile-long legs, sexy-as-fuck flared hips, pert little breasts, all wrapped in leather that screamed sex but didn’t match what her pale green eyes revealed.

The young woman who had sauntered into my office like she had every intention of dropping to her knees if I told her to disappeared the second I’d crowded close. Close enough to drop her focus to my chest. Close enough her heartbeat thrummed beneath my thumb. Close enough I could feel the purity of her soul as though her body’s energy rippled across the inches separating us.

An inexperienced submissive for sure, and she had my dominant nature kicking and screaming for release — along with my dick strangling in my jeans. Fuck, yes.

“Look at me.”

Her eyelids snapped up, those pale eyes letting me see right into the depths of her.

“How old are you?” I asked, my smile long fucking gone.

“Twenty-one,” she whispered.

“Liar.”

She gulped again, but held my gaze.

“Name?”

“H-Hannah.” She swallowed again as I smoothed my thumb up and down over her thumping artery. “Hannah Morris.”

“Hannah. A pure-as-fuck name for a pure-as-fuck little girl who should be with her mommy and daddy rather than in the devil’s playground,” I murmured, and she straightened, tensing beneath my hold.

“I am not a little girl.” Fire shot from her narrowed eyes as she all but spit the words at me.

I pressed flush against her body, grinding my dick against her hip. “Sassy. I like a little backbone in my women.”

She gasped, her eyes going wide. “Get off me.”

To the point words, but nothing other than desire laced her voice. She made no move to escape either, her hands grasping at my shirt as though hanging on for the ride of her life.

“Twenty-one, hmm? Got proof of that?” She shook her head, and I leaned in closer, my lips a breath from hers, so fucking ready to give her that ride. “So you came in here thinking you could get a job baring your tight body and fucking that pole up on stage without an ID.”

“Yes,” she whispered even though I hadn’t asked a question, her sweet breath jerking my dick in its prison.

“Gonna cost you.”

“Wh-what?”

“Not sure yet.” My lips brushed hers like a feather, far from a kiss, and she moaned. “A kiss?” I suggested.

She swallowed, no longer tense but trembling.

“Mmm, I think so,” I murmured when she didn’t answer, lust and satisfaction simmering throughout my body. “But where?”

I pulled back, and her eyelids fluttered open, her pupils dominating the green of her eyes.

“Here?” I asked, smoothing my thumb over her plump, glossed lips.

“Here?” I brushed my knuckles down over the swell of her right tit, my dick jerking again at the hardness of her nipple beneath my grazing caress. “Or…”

I worked my hand between our bodies, down over the front of her leather skirt until I caressed the smooth, warm skin above her knee.

“Here?” I slid my palm up the inside of her thigh.

Another shudder rippled through her, and she fisted her hands in my shirt.

I rubbed my thumb in circles just shy of her pussy, need like I’d never known taking me to the edge of my self-control, a self-control I prided myself on.

“What’s it going to be, Hannah?” Ragged and low, my voice sent a shiver over her body.

“M-my lips.”

I took her mouth in a bruising kiss, tightening my hold on her neck, tilting her head and thrusting my tongue between her lips that tasted of strawberries and cream. Not just innocent, but fucking untried in every way — she didn’t have a clue what to do with her tongue, so I showed her, sliding alongside hers, tasting, taking until she got the hang of sucking face.

She whimpered, and beyond giving a fuck how old the little temptress was, I cupped her pussy.

Hot and soaked.

Fuck.

She tore her mouth from mine and whimpered.

I licked the sweet taste of her gloss from my lips and pressed the heel of my hand against her clit.

“Oh!” Lower lip between her teeth, she clenched her eyes shut, her brow furrowing as she bucked beneath my touch.

“You like my hand on you.”

She whimpered and ground against me even though she shook her head.

“You’ll like my tongue even more.” I dropped to my knees and shoved her skirt up around her tiny waist. Pink lacy panties — so fucking virginal, I groaned. Goose bumps pebbled her legs, and I lifted my gaze, sliding a finger along the edge of her panties and pushing them aside while grasping her ass cheek with my other hand.

Hannah still had her lower lip between her teeth, eyes clenched shut, hands fisted at her sides.

“Look at me.”

Like a good little girl, she obeyed, and I held her gaze, flicking my tongue out.

Sweeter than any fucking cotton candy I’d licked before. Addictive honey…

 

© Lynn Burke 2018

 
 

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

Congratulations to the talented Katherine Wyvern on your new transgender release!

I look forward to diving into the Victorian world you’ve created and going through what sounds like a rollercoaster of emotions.

---

 

 

Hello, and thank you so much for hosting me and my new release, A Muse to Live For.

A Muse to Live For is the third instalment in my loosely interconnected “transgender trilogy”, which includes also Woman as a Foreign Language and Spice & Vanilla. While WaaFL and S&V are very obviously connected (they have two characters in common), the threads connection Spice to Muse are much subtler, so much so that I consider it almost a game with my readers to find them.

Unlike the other two books, which are Contemporary Romance, Muse takes a plunge back into the past and is set in the 1880s.

This is part of why it took me so long to write it (almost a year, on and off). Much as I am familiar with Victorian England from having read so much Dickens, and Conan Doyle, and the Brontë sisters, and a number of other books written or set in that period, whenever one begins to write, one discovers how many details they are still missing. How much did a shave cost? How did you ride a cab? Where would a poor Irish immigrant likely live? How do you wear a bustle dress? How do you fix one if it’s worn?

It became so fascinating to research all these things (and much more) that I spent more time in Victorian London than I had ever intended, and once more, a short story became a novel (story of my life).

The main reason for choosing a period setting however was not the fancy costumes and moody atmosphere, but a desire to write a story about an artist of that amazing period, when the Pre Raphaelites, the Symbolists and the Impressionists were changing the face of art, and to write a transgender character before transgender became a thing, before there were any labels or any sense of belonging to a group.

It is the deepest trip I ever took into the emotions of any two characters, through obsession, depression, love and wonderful fulfilment, and both characters have some autobiographic relevance to me. It’s my favorite story to date.

 

Blurb:

London, 1884

An artist lives to create. When Nathaniel’s urge to paint died, so did his will to live.

Until the night he meets Gabrielle.

Gabrielle may be just a poor prostitute, but she has the beauty of a Pre-Raphaelite stunner and the otherworldly aura of a fallen angel. She also has a secret. Gabrielle is Gabriel, and when Gabriel’s dark past comes knocking and Gabrielle must abandon her new career as an artist’s model, Nathaniel’s whole world comes crashing down again.

Better to die than living without her love, and the breathtaking creative drive she brought him. But it’s dead easy to die for a woman. Any fool can die for love. To live for it, that takes altogether more courage, doggedness, and imagination.

 

Be Warned: transgender romance, queer romance, cross-dressing, m/m sex, anal sex, rape<

 

 

Excerpt:

I am not sure how to touch Nathaniel. I want him to kiss me again, I want him to hold me, I want him to look at me that way he does in his studio, when he watches every line of my body and sees a woman. And at the same time, I wish he would see me for what I am, all that I am, once and for all, so I don’t have to hide anymore.

So I shed my jacket, and the blouse underneath. I shiver a little in the cold when my arms are bared, and he runs his warm palms on my goosebumps, soothing them.

Then I stand to unbutton my skirts and petticoat, and untie my bustle, and I let it all swish down around my knees, and I stand here naked, in my small chemise, and stockings and corset, and my boots.

I am still silk-skinned and woman shaped.

Except for that one thing.

I steal a glance at his face—I can hardly bear to look at his eyes, standing here so naked—thinking he will wince, or frown. Or scream, what do you know. You can never tell, with a sensitive artistic temperament.

But he does none of these things.

Instead he goes to his knees on the floor, like a man about to propose in some play, and with a sort of mute reverence he strokes my thighs and my buttocks, and the back of my knees, through the stockings. When he lays a kiss and then his forehead on the hard of my hip, where the bone pokes sharply under my skin, I put my hands on his crazy hair, and hold him there, and with the barest, lightest touch of his fingertips he caresses the front of my corset, on my belly, and then down, down.

And to my acute embarrassment, the damn thing shivers to his touch, stiffening, rising.

Well. He has certainly seen me, now. He really has.

He is not screaming.

I pull him to his feet and I step out of my puddled skirts, and gently I undress him. Jacket and shirt and trousers and drawers, socks, everything.

He is as tall as I am, which I had never noticed, because he always stands with his head bent and his shoulders slumped. He’s not muscular, but there is no fat on him either. He has well-built bones under his lumpy clothes—he badly needs a good tailor—and he would be rather handsome if he held himself straight, with his chin up, and didn’t look so much at odds with himself. He’s pale, but not as pale as I am, and there is just the merest spray of hair on his chest.

I caress his skin all over as I undress him, and he looks transfixed, as if it had never occurred to him that it takes two to dance this dance. Perhaps he thought I’d make him spend the night on his knees adoring me.

The heat of his skin is like a deep current, and it draws me to him.

We stand here mute, the only sounds the drumming of the rain and the swish of falling clothes, and gently kissing lips.

When I push him to lie on the bed, I have a moment of dread that he might want to do that to me. I cannot have it. I will not be taken that way ever again.

I’ll make my living giving blowjobs for the rest of my days, I guess.

But I am not afraid of him. I do not believe he’d be capable of hurting a fly, let alone me.

“So, do you fancy that blowjob, finally?” I whisper in his ear, smiling, but he holds me close, too close for me to slide down along his body.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips on my ear, so that words are made into a caress, “I love you, I love you.”

“Hush,” I whisper back, bearing down on him, grinding my cock on his. “Don’t say such things. It cannot be. It can’t.”

“This night, this once, please, let me say it. I love you, I love you, I love you.” His body rises to meet mine, and I feel those tears spilling now, with joy, and grief, and pity. Pity for him, for me, for both of us, lost in this narrow garret under the drumming rain, orphans in this storm, desperately naked in this terrible iron city.

“Only this once, then,” I whisper. “Tomorrow, you must forget.”

And before he can answer or kiss me again, I slip out of his arms, and down, along his chest and belly, so he cannot see me cry.

I have pleasured so many men this way, but never one I loved, and maybe it’s the same thing, and yet it’s something altogether different. He’s all silk and warmth and heaving life and fire pulsing, and his flesh matters to mine, so that my whole body loves his.

“You—don’t—have—to do this,” he whispers at first, but then he surrenders finally, and lets the pleasure take him.

I told him, the first time we met, that I’d do him for free. Who would have guessed, then, that I would end up doing him for love?

And I don’t know if he’s a virgin—but he is indeed quick. His cock grows even tauter on my tongue, and he breathes in short, hard gasps a few times. When his body arches and heaves and his hand fumbles at my cheek, I hold him, and hold him, and hold him… He comes with a broken moan, hotly. I swallow it all.

On the street I never do. But here, now, with him, I could not bring myself to spit.

 
 

Find A Muse to Live For:

Evernight / Amazon

 
 

 

Author bio:

I have entered that age when looking at beautiful male models in their prime makes me a cougar, ahem.

Almost all my heroines are short: that’s because I look at the world from hobbit level. Being so small I am three times more concentrated (read: obsessive) than anybody I know. I am exhaustingly creative in writing, arts, crafts… Sometimes my brain gets friction burns from hurtling at such speed from one universe to the next.

I love animals, plants, and occasionally even people.

Like the Highlander I come from a lot of different places. I was born in Italy but lived here and there and consider myself simply and deeply European. I love Europe passionately, its antiquity, its diversity, its quirkiness. All my books are set in Europe, or alternate versions of it.

I have been writing since I can remember.

 
 

Author links:

Katherine’s Blog:

https://katherinewyvern.blogspot.fr/

Katherine’s Website:

http://meetingivory.wixsite.com/katherinewyvern

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/katherinewyvern

Facebook Author/artist Group:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/884796268383313/?ref=bookmarks

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/KatherineWyvern

Or follow her on Instagram @katherinewyvern

 

 

Title: Passion, Pleasure, Pain: An anthology of Dominance and submission

Release Date: February 14, 2019

Cover Art: Lesli Richardson

Editors: Sandy Ebel from Personal Touch Editing, Ekatarina Sayanova from Red Quilled Editing LLC, Tracy Damron-Roelle

 

Keywords: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Dominance Submission D/s, MF, MM, Gay, Historical, Voyeurism, Spanking, Apparatus, Bondage, Interracial, Older hero/heroine, Transgender, Futanari, May/December, Addiction, Dark, MMF, Political romance, Political fiction, Governor Trilogy, Ménage, Shifters, Hotshot, Fire Fighter, Wildfire, Friends to Lovers

 

In each other they found the piece of themselves they hadn’t even realized was missing.

This D/s anthology was put together by writers who hold author, Doris O’Connor, near and dear to their hearts because the genre is one that was near and dear to Doris as an author. #F*ckCancer #WeLoveDoris

 

Purchase Links:

Universal Book Link (UBL): https://books2read.com/dorisanthology

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/919332

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/passion-pleasure-pain

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/passion-pleasure-pain-various-authors/1130339407

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/passion-pleasure-pain/id1450314063

Amazon (US): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (CA): http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (AU): http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (NL): http://www.amazon.nl/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (DE): http://www.amazon.de/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (MX): http://www.amazon.com.mx/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (BR): http://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (ES): http://www.amazon.es/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (FR): http://www.amazon.fr/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (IT): http://www.amazon.it/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (JP): http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

Amazon (IN): http://www.amazon.in/dp/B07N5CGNQL/

 

Titles, blurbs, & author links:

You Belong to Me by Lynn Burke

Alabaster by Kastil Eavenshade

Risqué by London Saint James

Back on Top – A Wylde Shore Novella by Jan Graham

Hell’s Mercy by Katherine Wyvern

Deb by Name, Sub by Nature by Raven McAllan

Once Upon a Time by Erin M. Leaf

Shade Addiction by Lea Bronsen

Yes, Governor by Lesli Richardson

Entwined by Elyzabeth M. Valey

Burn by DC Stone

Claimed by the Stranger by R. Brennan

 

 

You Belong to Me by Lynn Burke

My entire life is one bold-faced, fucking lie. Son of Victor Laurent and sole heir to the entire Laurent fortune built up from a few great grandfathers back in the Civil War times, I’ve been raised—groomed—to be the perfect Southern gentleman. Proper and full of self-control, a man who can keep hold on the vices that help me live my daily life of pure, fucking drudgery.

I know what it means to be controlling not just of myself but of the woman who will one day kneel at my feet. The one who belongs to me, however, is promised to another—and claiming what is mine could cost me everything.

Author Bio:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Author Links:

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

 

Alabaster by Kastil Eavenshade

Alixandre Chastain enjoys the darker side of Paris. A Libertine by trade, no flesh is barred from his roaming hands, no matter what lay betwixt their legs. Except when news of his lustful ways reaches his God-fearing parents, they strip him of title and cast him out. Alixandre’s now adrift and with an uncertain future, but an interesting proposition by Comte Phelipe Richelien promises to replace everything he lost with a new world of decadent pleasure like no other. But can Alixandre submit to his new Master? And will his guarded heart be laid bare by one spoken word—Alabaster.

Author Bio:

Kastil Eavenshade is multi-published author pandering her romantic shenanigans. When not catering to the whims of three rescued kitties, she’s dreaming up her next heart-beating tale. No period in history–past, present, or future–is safe from the clutches of her muse.

Her passions beyond writing are drawing, cooking, and watching Pittsburgh Penguins hockey. She credits her parents for her free spirit as they’ve always supported her in every aspect of her life. Without them, she wouldn’t be here. She finds pleasure in writing anything from fantasy to romance-which sometimes parallel each other.

Author Links:

https://kastil.wordpress.com/

 

Risqué by London Saint James

Alex

Camilla Maria Campanelli. I’d caught glimpses of the woman when she popped into my Manhattan gallery—there to collect a commission for the paintings we sold for her. So let’s just say I never expected the wet-dream version of Camilla to sashay into Indigo House, an exclusive member’s only club that catered to very specific clientele with extremely particular desires.

Camilla

The night I stepped out on my balcony, I hadn’t intended to be a voyeur though I ended up being one. And what shocked me even more than my uncharacteristic behavior? I’d actually been aroused watching two strangers get their kink on. But I wasn’t into D/s. I’d never even read those Fifty Shades books all my sisters went on and on about.

So why was I affected?

I needed some real, solid answers. And there was only one way to do that.

Author Bio:

London Saint James has lived in many places but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.

As an award-winning, international bestselling author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.

Author Links:

Web: https://www.londonsaintjames.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSJRomance

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LSJRomance/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/londonsaintjames/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/london-saint-james

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/LSJRomance

 

Back on Top – A Wylde Shore Novella by Jan Graham

Barry Reid never imagined becoming friends with three Doms and their subs would change his life so dramatically. When he settled into marriage and family life with his wife, Meg, he set aside his dominant tendencies, happy to lead a vanilla life. With Meg’s newfound interest in BDSM it’s up to Barry to connect with his inner Dom and figure out how they can make the lifestyle work for them—even if it’s only in the bedroom.

Author Bio:

Jan Graham is an author of Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. Her stories contain erotic elements, with some including elements of BDSM. She has numerous published titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of procrastination. Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads, feeds her Netflix addiction and drinks coffee with friends.

For those who enjoy labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a submissive, an aunt, dyslexic, a lover of all things tempting and naughty (including chocolate), a participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and sometimes a wild child.

In short, she is generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center. You can find out more about Jan and her work by visiting the following links.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.jangraham.com.au

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JanGrahamAuthorpage/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Jan-Graham/e/B0071Q0SA8/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jan_graham

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com.au/JanGrahamauthor/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jan-graham

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/916928.Jan_Graham

 

Hell’s Mercy by Katherine Wyvern

Wealthy, charismatic, influential and damn near immortal, Lukan Løvensgård looks like natural Dom material, and in fact he has never, but never submitted to anyone in his long life. But among all the bizarre and fantastic people roaming the far planet of Cydonia, there is one who stole his old, cold heart.

Her love comes at a price. Complete surrender.

With her impressive presence and unusual equipment, Helenay is the hottest and trendiest professional Domme in Neu Venedig and she hardly has the time to top for pleasure these days. But she knows what her old friend Lukan needs, something he never suspected. Release from power.

Author Bio:

I have entered that age when looking at beautiful male models in their prime probably makes me a cougar, ahem.

Almost all my heroines are short: that’s because I look at the world from hobbit level. Being so small I am three times more concentrated (read: obsessive) than anybody I know. I am exhaustingly creative in writing, arts, crafts… Sometimes my brain gets friction burns from hurtling at such speed from one universe to the next.

I love animals, plants, and occasionally even people.

Like Highlander I come from a lot of different places. I was born in Italy but lived here and there and consider myself simply and deeply European. I love Europe passionately, its antiquity, its diversity, its quirkiness. All my books are set in Europe, or alternate versions of it.

I have been writing since I can remember.

Author Links:

Katherine’s Blog: https://katherinewyvern.blogspot.fr/

Katherine’s Website: http://meetingivory.wixsite.com/katherinewyvern

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katherinewyvern

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KatherineWyvern

Or follow her on Instagram @katherinewyvern

 

Deb by Name, Sub by Nature by Raven McAllan

He can command his men…

But can he command Deborah?

Major Oliver Cantor, newly back from the continent, has always wanted Deborah. However she is an innocent. A lady who has no idea just what Oliver wants, needs and desired.

Or does she?

She knows he is dominant and wants someone to be his submissive.

She also knows it should be her.

Now all she has to do is persuade him of that fact.

You’d think it would be easy, but…

Author Bio:

Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

Her very understanding, and long-suffering DH, is used to his questions unanswered, the dust bunnies greeting him as he walks through the door, and rescuing burned offerings from the Aga. (And passing her a glass of wine as she types furiously.)

Author Links:

Website: http://www.ravenmcallan.com/

Blog: http://ravenmcallan.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ravenkatyandkera

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan

 

Once Upon a Time by Erin M. Leaf

Charlie has never been in love because he’s never believed in happily ever after. He prides himself on being a good friend and a good Dom, and that’s always been enough for him, except lately nothing feels right. He doesn’t know if he’s having a mid-life crisis or what, but his best friend suddenly looks hot as hell, and nothing about that is normal.

Ryan’s straight friend Charlie has always had his back: when he came out, when he got married, and when his husband died. He’d do anything for the guy he’s been secretly in love with forever. So when Charlie suddenly proposes a spanking scene under the guise of “relaxing” him, he almost runs the opposite direction. Except, what if this is his one chance to finally show Charlie what real love feels like?

Author Bio:

Erin M. Leaf is a romance novel devotee, the steamier the better, with a specialty in edgy erotic tension.

Author Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EdgyAuthorErin/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/erinmleaf

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/erin.m.leaf/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Erin-M.-Leaf/e/B0042TXIYU/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4355929.Erin_M_Leaf

Evernight: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/erin-m-leaf/

 

Shade Addiction by Lea Bronsen

Ex-boxer Mike Logan struggles to put a brutal past behind and make ends meet as a bus driver. When a young runaway settles for an all-night ride, he seizes the chance to do a good deed—get her home safely. But first, they’ll drive around and talk.

What he doesn’t anticipate is that this broken night angel is also a sexy little minx needing a lot more…and not just the gentle kind.

Author Bio:

Award-winning author Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, historical romance, and dark erotic romance.

Author Links:

Website: https://leabronsen.com/

Blog: https://leabronsen.com/blog/

Facebook profile: https://www.facebook.com/wildhearted.author

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/LeaBronsen/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LeaBronsen

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6966248.Lea_Bronsen

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Lea-Bronsen/e/B00BTFT8KS/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leabronsen/

Pinterest: https://no.pinterest.com/leabronsen/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+AuthorLeaBronsen

 

Yes, Governor by Lesli Richardson

As chief of staff to the governor of Florida, Carter has a well-deserved rep as a bastard extraordinaire. But when he’s dealing with two governors for the price of one on Christmas Eve, will the Master find himself outmatched and outmaneuvered by his wily political pets?

Note: This standalone short story takes place after Chief (Governor Trilogy 3) and can be read as a standalone independent from the trilogy.

Author Bio:

Author Lesli Richardson, who is better-known by her more prolific wild-child Tymber Dalton pen name, lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets. She writes a wide variety of heat levels and genres, from mainstream sci-fi all the way to scorching ménage.

The two-time EPIC award winner and part-time Viking shield-maiden in training loves to shoot skeet and play D&D with her friends. She’s also the bestselling author of over one hundred and fifty books and counting, including The Reluctant Dom, the Governor Trilogy, the Suncoast Society series, the Love Slave for Two series, the Triple Trouble series, and many others.

She lives in her own little world, but it’s okay—they all know her there.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.tymberdalton.com

 

Entwined by Elyzabeth M. Valey

Mallory Brown doesn’t go home with strangers, and while she’s all for a great spanking, she doesn’t do BDSM relationships. Fantasizing is more her speed. And when she catches a glimpse of Master Murphy, fantasies fill her brain.

But Master Murphy has other plans. He enters her life full-steam and won’t take no for an answer. While she’s compelled to say yes, is she really ready to say goodbye to her world as she knows it to become permanently entwined with His?

Author Bio:

Ely Valey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab and Golden Retriever mix, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends and family.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.elyzabethmvaley.com/

Blog: http://www.inadreambeyond.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Elyzabeth-M-VaLey/217055075022594

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ElyzabethVaLey

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elyvaley/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4515587.Elyzabeth_M_VaLey

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elyzabethmvaley/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Elyzabeth-M.-VaLey/e/B005VOP2IK

 

Burn by D.C. Stone

Cain Silvers is the Captain of one of the nation’s best Hotshot fire fighter groups there is, and his world has turned upside-down when his best friend’s kid sister, Chloe Crowley joins the team. Chloe has always made him uneasy with her attraction to him, something he refused to act on because of who she was and how innocent she is.

Chloe wants to make a difference in the world, and following her passion to become one of the few females in an all-male industry is just the start. She’s set on proving herself to her team, but still follows her own rules, ones that could get her into a lot of trouble.

Passion collides with desire in their story, leading up to actions that could burn everybody.

Author Bio:

DC Stone has over sixteen years of investigative experience, including working as a criminal investigator in the United States military. She currently works as an internal affairs investigation manager by day and a romantic suspense author by night. She has her Master’s degree in Criminal Justice and is dubbed, “The Investigative Whisper.” She provides numerous workshops that help authors gain insight into “digging” into a character’s mind to better understand motives, create suspense, and help maintain conflict.

When she isn’t trying to solve a new puzzle in the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and all those crazy characters in her head. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, RomVets, RWA Kiss of Death, and the Liberty State Fiction Writers. She served as the 2014 Vice President and Conference Chair for NJRW. Find her at the following stops: Facebook PAGE, Facebook PROFILE, Twitter, and her Website.

Author Links:

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorDCStone

Facebook profile: https://www.facebook.com/dc.stone.92

Twitter: @DCStoneauthor

Website: www.authordcstone.com

 

 

Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases!

This week’s tease is taken from my ménage erotica HIGH-RISK FEVER. In this scene, we’re continuing where we left off: Anne has brought Micaela some medicine…

* * *

 
She searched for ways to keep their interaction professional. Focusing on his sickness was the only thing that could take her mind off of his sensuality. What would help fight his fever?

She nodded to his pullover. “You should take off your clothes.” Her face heated. God, the words had come out too fast, too soon. She couldn’t believe her audacity. As he gave a small smile, she explained, “It’ll help bring your fever down.”

He swallowed, and winced. “Fever is good.” His voice sounded raspy.

“I know. A high fever can be useful on the first day of sickness. But I think—”

Her instincts told her to put a hand on his forehead like a mother examining a sick child. But she couldn’t. It was hard enough to stand in front of this stud and passively receive the warmth emanating from his body—and ignore the tease in his glowing eyes. Her impulses had proved treacherous lately, and she feared they would bring her straight into his arms.

Brian. Cold fear rushed through her. Remember Brian!

She took a deep breath, avoided Micaela’s stare, and tried to control her choking voice. “I think what you need now is to bring the fever down.” She had read about it in mommy magazines. When a child had a high fever, the best way to stabilize its body temperature was to remove all the clothes and keep only a thin cloth of cotton on.

He shrugged with a white-toothed grin before proceeding to remove his pullover. Once more, damp heat drifted to her with the smell of musk and sweat, though not an unpleasant one. She couldn’t help breathing in his manly scent and wanting to memorize it.

When he folded the sweater over the chair arm and straightened, she stifled a gasp of admiration. The man was better looking than any god from Greek mythology. Dim light shone on his tanned and perfectly sculpted torso. She could only gape and stare, transfixed. Blood pulsed in her temples.

Now was a good time to leave. She’d helped him and had no business staying. From the way her body reacted to him, the situation could quickly get out of control. But she was too weak.

His dark, seducing eyes held hers and seemed to scrutinize her reaction—before a new coughing fit forced him to lean between his knees again. Scorching barks filled the room. His torso jerked back and forth, thrashing his long hair around. He coughed so hard and so long she thought he would throw up, and she stood helpless before him.

When the coughing stopped, he drew ragged breaths, groaned, and rubbed his face.

Wanting to do something to help—maybe just put a palm on his shoulder to calm him—Anne stepped forward.

With a grunt, he shot his hands to the backs of her legs, behind her skirt, and pulled her toward him. She stumbled between his spread legs with a small cry, knees pressing against the edge of the chair. He buried his face in her lap, guttural moans drowned in her skirt.

She should have pushed him away but didn’t.

Face nestled against her, he lifted her skirt and stroked her naked thighs with hard hands, sculpting her muscles, heating the skin—probably not from sexual teasing, but need, as if rough handling could ease the pain in his throat and lungs.

He moved forward on the chair, and his hot crotch met her knees. Her inner thighs and stomach filled with such intense heat, she couldn’t move. Her corrupt body overruled every reasonable thought and willingly melted into his forceful embrace. She gasped as her traitorous pussy reacted, opening and wetting with lust.

Against her will, she reached down, found his head, and entwined trembling fingers in the sweaty black locks. She pulled at his hair, pressed him to her burning core. There was no stopping, no reasoning.

Micaela’s hot, quick breaths heated the fabric of her skirt. He moaned, and the rumble resonated inside her. His groin hardened against her knees, the erection evident. With one strong hand on her butt, he moved underneath her skirt with the other and stroked up her inner thigh until meeting the wet panties.

Gasping again from the sharp rush of desire, she spread her legs like a cheap whore and allowed his fingers to explore her innermost secret and precious place. She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and followed each of Micaela’s teasing moves. His fingers not only crept inside her panties like thieves, but took possession of every sensitive part of her pussy. No doubting his experience. One by one, he parted her thick folds, explored the inner lips, and trailed the tingling skin approaching her clit.

She whimpered from sharp lust. Her breathing hitched, and her juices ran as she anticipated the bolt of lightning that would soon rush to her womb.

But instead of touching her tiny point of nerves, he went back with slow, precise movements and stopped at the entrance of her cunt, lingering. What a tease! She grunted impatience. The hard cock pressing against her knees left no question about the effort it took for him to wait.

Unwilling to cooperate, she pushed forward, pressing her cunt against his fingers. Two slid in, and she jerked her head back with a small cry of satisfaction as they grazed her inner walls. A new, intense wave of heat washed over her. Her muscles contracted around his hard fingers, demanded to be invaded, conquered, brought to another world.

He chuckled into her lap. “You so wet. So hot.”

Her eyes flew open. She’d forgotten other sounds existed in life than ragged breaths and moans.

With a rumble in his throat, he removed his warm hand from her panties and let her skirt fall. Cold air brushed the insides of her thighs, replacing moist heat as he backed off, though his other hand stayed curled on her butt cheek, each finger deep in her skin, as if he didn’t want to let go quite yet.

Why did he move away? She peeked down at the same time as he looked up.

His dark, mischievous eyes met hers, long locks hanging in his face. He grinned and shook his hair back before opening his mouth and placing glistening fingers on his pink tongue, holding her gaze with a gleam of naughtiness. God, he was such a tease, wrapping those sexy lips around his digits and sucking!

She prepared for a new round of seduction when he frowned, took his fingers out, and stared at them. Suspicion marring his features, he shot her a glance before sniffing his hand.

Her chest tightened. What was wrong, did she smell? Due to the power loss, she hadn’t been able to shower this morning, but she had washed with a cloth and soapy water. Surely that had to be good enough.

He looked up again, black eyes hardening. “Why you so wet?”

Wet? She was so engulfed in desire, it took a moment to comprehend his words.

Then it dawned on her. Oh mon Dieu. She was wet because Brian had come inside her in the cellar.

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

  

  

Two young and indecently handsome bicyclists visit a village in the French Alps during the summer holidays. Forced by a raging storm to spend the night at the local bed & breakfast, they invade the quiet lives of hostess Anne and her husband, Brian.

A power outage plunges the foursome into darkness, encouraging new liaisons to form, life-long secrets to be unveiled, and steamy lessons to be learned. But once the storm moves on, can the four find a balance and resume their normal lives?

 

Links:

Get the book on Amazon.com, Amazon.uk, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iBooks, and Smashwords.

Add it to your shelf on Goodreads

See photos that inspired me to write on Pinterest

* * *

Thanks for stopping by!

Be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

 

Congratulations to Harley Wylde on your new release!

---

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: MC Romance, New Adult, Silver Fox, Contemporary

Emmie — I overheard my father promise my hand in marriage to a man who is so cold I’m not sure he even has a heart. So I did what any young woman would do. I ran. My sister, Federal Agent Lupita Montoya, gave me sanctuary in the US and helped me file the proper paperwork so I could stay indefinitely. Now Lupita is in prison and my time is running out. My father and Ernesto will be coming for me. When Lupita sends me to the Dixie Reapers compound in Alabama, I know they’re my last hope. I just didn’t count on falling for one of them.

Tank — The hot little Latina I’ve had my eye on for three weeks is in trouble, and the time for waiting is over. I thought I’d claim her, get those Spanish bastards to back off, but then she knocked me off my feet. Emmie is really Emelda Montoya, sister to the woman I chased around Christmas, and someone my club owes a debt. It makes Emmie hands off, but I’ve never been good at backing down, especially when I see something I want. And I want Emmie to be mine. She’s over a decade younger than me, but I’m not going to let something like age stand in my way, and I’m sure as hell not going to let her mobster father get between us. I’ll bury him if I have to, along with that sick bastard, Ernesto.

But the more digging my club does, the more twisted the tale becomes. For the first time in my life, I’m not sure we can handle the trouble that’s landed on our doorstep, but I will die trying to protect the woman I’m falling for, the woman I accidentally knocked up, the woman I call wife.

Warning: Contains some violence and some darker themes. If you’re looking for a sweet read, this isn’t it. There’s melt your panties sex and a biker who will stop at nothing to protect the woman he loves.

Coming February 1 to Changeling Press

Pre-Order at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, and iTunes for February 8

The new waitress at the diner was a cute thing, and familiar somehow. Her dark hair hung down her back in curls, nearly falling to her waist even with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was the first thing I’d noticed. The second had been the killer curves that would be more than a handful. I’d always had a thing for short, curvy women. Her skin was flawless, even though she looked overly tired with dark circles under her eyes. Fatigue seemed to be weighing her down, and I noticed she struggled to keep up. She’d popped up a few weeks ago, and I’d been here nearly every day since the first glimpse I’d had of her. It was her eyes that seemed so familiar.

“Isn’t she a little young for you?” Wire asked, nodding toward my obsession.

I shrugged. It was true enough, she didn’t look very old, and I preferred my women closer to thirty, if not older. Didn’t mean I couldn’t look. Woman with a body like that, it was really damn hard not to stare. I got hard just thinking about that perfect ass of hers, bent over as she begged to be fucked. I wondered if she was a screamer.

I wasn’t the only one noticing her. Several of the male customers checked her out. I’d even seen one try to grab her ass, but she’d managed to twist away. I’d been about two seconds from getting up and handling the situation, but she’d kept going like it hadn’t happened. Made me wonder if she dealt with that shit all the time, and it only pissed me off. I’d never condoned men taking what wasn’t offered. There was a difference in fucking a willing woman and trying to grab someone who didn’t want your attention. Some assholes learned that the hard way, usually after I’d put my fist through their face to teach them some manners.

My conscience pricked when I thought about Wraith’s woman, Rin. I’d nearly tossed her out on her ass the first night she’d appeared at our gates. If I’d done that, she’d be dead right now. I’d been an asshole to her, and I wasn’t proud of myself. At the time, I’d been hurting over a stupid cunt who had tried to trick me into staying with her, and I’d taken it out on poor Rin. Blair had been a complete bitch, but I hadn’t gotten away soon enough. I’d apologized to Rin for my behavior since then, but I knew Wraith wouldn’t forgive me anytime soon.

The petite waitress didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would string men along, unlike the woman I’d been seeing up until two years ago. I’d found out Blair had several stallions in her stable, confronted her about, and then she’d tried to trick me into believing I’d gotten her pregnant. I’d strung her along a little longer, until I could prove her to be a liar. She hadn’t soured me on women, though. Pissed me off good and proper, but I still got my dick wet at the clubhouse often enough. No, the woman who had fucked me over in my early twenties had soured me on relationships. Blair was my first attempt to be with a woman longer than a few days, and look how that had turned out.

The little Latina waitress had a name tag that said Emmie and the name was as cute as she was. My brothers had given me hell, telling me I should just ask her out. I was always careful not to sit in her section. I’d noticed the first time we’d come in after she’d been hired she froze when she saw us enter the diner. The blood had drained from her face, and I’d thought she might faint. It wasn’t the first time a woman had been afraid of us, and I doubted it would be the last. I knew I was more intimidating than most with my height and size. I wasn’t the enforcer for my club without reason. Someone started a fight, I could finish it, usually with them requiring a coroner when I was done.

“Are we going to eat here all the damn time just because you want to bang the hot little Hispanic girl?” Tempest asked. “Because the food is decent enough, but I’m starting to get tired of it.”

“No one said you had to come along,” I told him, my gaze still locked on Emmie.

“And miss it when you finally find your balls and go talk to her?” he asked. “No, until you man the fuck up and ask her out, I’ll just keep tagging along. Might be worth it if she shoots you down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman turn you away, except that federal agent. That one over there, she doesn’t look like someone who would be interested in a guy like you.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“For one, she’s what? Five feet nothing to your six feet five? How the hell would that even work?” Tempest asked.

I looked over at him and raised a brow. “Really? Do you need lessons? Is that why you’re still single? Not keeping the ladies happy in the bedroom?”

Tempest flipped me off, and I went back to watching Emmie.

No one knew her story. I’d asked around, but she was a complete unknown. No family in the area, and I’d heard she was staying at some shit motel on the other end of town. It wasn’t safe, and I’d taken to driving by there when I knew she was going home from work. Even though I made sure she got into her room without any problems, it was impossible to guarantee her safety past that. Not unless I camped out at her doorstep all night.

The bell over the door jingled, and Emmie went deathly pale, dropping the plate she’d been carrying. It shattered at her feet, but she was frozen in place. My gaze locked onto the men who had just entered the diner. It was obvious she recognized them, even though I didn’t, and I made it my mission in life to know all the big players in town. These men with their expensive suits, three hundred dollar haircuts, and arrogance weren’t small fish. They also didn’t look all that young.

“Emelda, it’s time to do your duty,” one of them said.

“How did you find me?” she asked, her voice soft and shaky.

“That doesn’t matter. Your fiancé is here, and he’s willing to forgive this transgression,” the man said, waving a hand at the guy standing next to him.

Fiancé? I hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger in all the days I’d been here. And yeah, I’d looked. I might be an asshole at times, but I never poached. If I’d have thought she belonged to someone else, I’d have backed off. Not that I’d really made a move yet anyway.

“I’m not going with either of you,” she said, tipping her jaw up.

The men advanced on her, and I knew I had a decision to make. Stand back and let things play out, or step in and extract the little angel from a situation she clearly wanted to avoid. I didn’t know who these men were, but it didn’t matter right then. They scared her, and that put them at the top of my list of assholes who needed to disappear.

I pushed my chair back and made my way over to her, but she didn’t even look at me. Her hands were clenched at her sides, but I could see the fear in her eyes, and I was willing to bet these men could too. They came closer, pausing a moment as I stepped up behind Emmie. I wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her back against my body.

“Everything all right, baby?” I asked. “These men bothering you?”

“Stay out of this,” the supposed fiancé said. “Emelda is mine, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll just walk away. This is family business.”

“Family business?” I asked. “Then I guess I’ll just have to stick around, seeing as how Emmie is my woman.”

Find out more about Harley Wylde by visiting her online!

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!

---

 

#MCRomance #Rubenesque #Erotic #Suspense #Series #HEA

Jonny

Fallen Gliders 5

By Lynn Burke

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Cover Art: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

Release Date: January 30, 2019

BLURB

Jonny Hayes, president of the Fallen Gliders MC, can’t remember the last time a woman got him up or off. With the club under fire and an inside snitch spilling their secrets, the last thing he needs in his life is a curvy blonde on the run. Even if she does make his hands itch to redden her sweet ass.

The law refuses to protect Alexa Thorne from her ex, a Silent Demon who thinks she’s still his property. Bruised but not broken, she runs north in search of her friend—and a safe place to escape—but instead finds herself surrounded by a rival gang. Vouched for and under the Glider’s protection, Alexa refuses to let a man touch her again—even if their alpha president makes her body burn to submit to him.

Jonny vows to keep his hands to himself, but the undeniable pull between the two cannot be ignored. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if the consequences of his plan costs him his club, his brothers, and his freedom.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: http://books2read.com/jonnyfg5

Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/jonny-by-lynn-burke

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N82TRCJ

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07N82TRCJ

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130356401

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/jonny

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/jonny/id1450576373?mt=11

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/919749

GIVEAWAY: Motorcycle mug, authentic NH maple syrup, $25 Amazon GC (US Only)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

PG EXCERPT:

My breath caught at the sight of the man coming through the door.

Damnit. My heartbeat kicked up a few notches, and my panties were done for, but my head. My head screamed retreat loud enough I questioned the wisdom of making “friends”.

Jonny’s gaze landed on my face, and I felt the scrutiny of his intense eyes across the kitchen.

Janie threw herself into Hawk’s arms, legs wrapped around his waist as she attacked his mouth.

Jonny glanced at the two of them sucking face, and turned back toward me, one eyebrow raised.

I found myself laughing beneath my breath and shrugging. “Guess they kind of like each other,” I said, my voice a little shaky.

“Guess so.” He slipped his leather jacket off his shoulders, and my mouth dried.

Nothing hotter than a ripped man in a tight, white t-shirt. While Jonny probably had a handful of years—if not ten—on me, the man sure took care of himself. A few lines lay at the corner of his eyes, and gray hinted in the dark hair above his temples, but beneath his neck? He could have been taken for a twenty-something with the hard dips and valleys of his body. Black leather pants clung to every inch of him from the waist down.

Saliva rushed back to coat my mouth, and I swallowed while ripping my gaze off him to focus on the carrots. My hand trembled, and I put the knife down, deciding there were more than enough carrots chopped for four salads.

“Hope you boys are hungry,” Janie said, a little breathless. “Want to go fire up the grill with me, baby?”

“Hmm.” Hawk hummed his agreement and grabbed a couple beers from the fridge.

I busied myself putting the carrots on top of the four bowls of lettuce Janie had readied.

“Be right back!” Janie giggled and scooted out the door once more with Hawk.

Jonny stayed behind, beer in hand, focus on me. “How are you?”

I had to swallow again from drool and nerves alike. “Better than yesterday,” I said, trying for a smile.

“Get some sleep last night?”

“Finally, yes.”

“Hawk told me you’re going to stay with them for a while.”

I nodded and moved toward the table to put the salads by each plate. The weight of Jonny’s stare kept my heartbeat thumping, my skin tingling.

“You’re welcome at the club.”

My attention shot toward him even though Hawk had already told Janie as much over the phone earlier in the day. Jonny swigged from his bottle of beer, dark gaze on my face while swallowing.

“Hawk says you’re good people, and I trust him above everyone else.”

Sudden tears filled my eyes, and I turned away to put the final salad on the table.

“Hey.” The warmth of his touch on my elbow stilled me. “You okay?”

A mere foot from me, the slight scent of soap, hops, and mint clinging to him weakened me in the best way possible. “Y-yeah,” I managed to say, but didn’t pull away from the first man’s touch I’d experienced without cringing.

Jonny glanced down to his hand still cupping my elbow and lifted his focus once more to my face, a question in his eye.

Temptation to lean into him, to accept the comfort he offered, played with my mind, and I stared up into eyes darker than the smoothest chocolate. Heated energy charged between us, making it hard for me to breathe.

Jonny’s gaze flitted down to my lips, and I realized I’d licked the lower without meaning to.

His bottle clinked on the table as he set it down, and my breath caught again as he lifted his hand and brushed my hair back over my shoulder, his fingertips feather-light over the skin of my neck.

Goosebumps spread down over my entire body, and I shivered, completely trapped by his gaze and torn between wanting to close the distance between us and scurrying away to find a hole to hide in.

“You and your gorgeous curves are one temptation I don’t need right now,” he murmured, his focus dropping to my lips again, “but I sure as hell want.”

Good Lord almighty, the man didn’t waste time or mince words. Tell him ditto or pull away?

© Lynn Burke 2018

ADULT EXCERPT:

She sat on the edge of the bed, my white t-shirt hiding her perfect tits, her blonde hair a rumpled mess. Lips still swollen. Shoulders relaxed, and makeup smeared around her bright eyes.

“You’re gorgeous,” I muttered, fisting my cock.

She glanced down at the movement beneath the comforter, her cheeks tinging pink and nipples pebbling beneath my shirt. “Want some coffee?” she asked, her voice more breathless than a few seconds earlier.

I pushed the blankets down over my body, thrusting into my hand while baring my cock. “I’d rather have you ride me.”

She swallowed, her gaze flitting to my face as the pulse leapt in her neck.

“But coffee’s good,” I said when she didn’t speak or make a move.

“You held back last night.”

I nodded, still lazily stroking my cock.

Alexa licked her lower lip, glancing once more at my dick. “Do you … like to hurt women in a sexual way?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Only if they want me to.”

“Spanking?”

I bit back my groan at the memory of her plump ass. “Yes.”

“Pulling hair? Biting?” She met my gaze once more, her eyes flitting from one of mine to the other as though hoping to read the truth of my answer.

“Yes, and yes,” I said, my hand stilling. “But not without consent or safewords,”

She nodded and climbed atop me, lifting my shirt so her bare pussy rested against the top of my hand and my cock.

“Christ.” I breathed out the word and released my hold on myself to grasp her bare hips lightly beneath the shirt.

She ground her pussy against my aching length, slickening me with her arousal. “I-I’d like to try all that with you,” she whispered, staring into my eyes, “but right now, I just want you to fuck me.”

So more than just one night. Fuck, yes. “Condom?”

“I want you bare—if that’s okay?”

“I fucking hate rubbers,” I muttered, my dick jumping at the thought of feeling her pussy against my skin. “Birth control?”

She nodded and shifted her hips, notching me against her opening. “Clean, too.”

“So am I.”

I flexed as she moved back, and we came together in one rocking motion.

“Fuck.” I clenched my jaw, the wetness of her heat clasping me. “Never gone without before,” I said between my teeth, fighting to keep from digging my fingers into her hips and taking what I wanted.

Alexa slid forward along my length and sank back down, her lower lip between her teeth.

“Take off the t-shirt,” I said. “Touch those beautiful tits for me.”

Red infused her cheeks, but she did as told, her small hands lifting the heaviness of her breasts.

With a heave of breath, I sat up and latched onto the pebbled nipple of one she held, breathing in her sweet, peach scent, the desire to bite rather than lick racing through my blood.

Her breath caught as she lifted and lowered over my cock, her wetness leaking down over my balls, pussy clenching with every gentle scrape of my teeth over her hardened nub.

“Harder,” she whispered, and I thrust up into her as she sank onto my shaft again. I went for a small nibble, and she moaned, her back arching, pressing her tit into my face. “Yes…”

Her whispered word fucking thrilled me, and I nibbled again, thrusting up into her as her pussy clamped down on me.

“Oh, God.” She whimpered and gasped while moving against me, her body a fucking vision of motion, swaying and grinding.

I slid a hand around her backside, my fingertips trailing up and down her ass crack while she moved on me. As she lifted, I gathered moisture off my dick and slid a fingertip over her asshole as she fucked down onto me again.

Her breath caught, and she stayed impaled, circling her hips in time with my finger rimming her ass. I released my mouth from her breast with a pop. “Like that?” I asked, pressing lightly.

She whimpered and nodded, eyes clenched shut, pulse thrumming in her neck as she ground against me.

I thrust with my hips and slid my finger past her ring of muscle.

“God.” Her breath left in a rush, and she tipped her head back, her neck an offering I couldn’t pass up.

I latched onto the softness of her skin at the base of her neck, and she began to rock on my lap. “More,” she whispered, her hands grabbing hold of my head to keep me close.

Teeth, or finger in her ass, I wasn’t sure which she meant, so I went with both, nipping her flesh with my teeth in open mouth kisses and finger sliding in and out of her tight hole while she rode me.

“God, yes.” She gasped and shuddered, her fingernails digging into my scalp. “Fuck, yes.” Her pussy spasmed. “Jonny!” She cried out my name a second time as her inner walls clamped down on my thrusting cock, and I captured her mouth, swallowing every whimper and moan of her climax while shooting my cum deep inside her.

Nothing fucking compared to erupting in a woman’s body without the strangling hold of a damn condom. Nothing. Fucking perfection, and I wasn’t about to give up what I’d just found—fuck the Demons, and fuck her ex. I just needed to show her I could be the man for her.

© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

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Congratulations to Jennifer Macaire on your new release!

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The Soul of Time

In the Land of Ice and Darkness, time-traveller Ashley faces the terrible Thief of Souls

(The Time For Alexander Series Book 6)

Ashley and Alexander come face to face with Volterix, the terrifying Thief of Souls – a druid with powers to stop time and change the future of the world.

Ashley and Alexander must travel to the far north in order to stop the Volterix from irrevocably changing time. With Alexander’s soul, and Paul as his puppet, the druid hopes he can stop the Roman legions from conquering Europe and thus save the druids from extinction. But Ashley knows that will not happen without the mysterious Time-Senders erasing all their lives.

In order to save herself, her children, and the men she loves, she has to somehow get Alexander’s soul back and find the druid’s lair.

Excerpt:

If you’ve always lived in the modern world, and never had the chance to take a trip back in time, then you can never imagine how sweet the air was before the invention of fossil fuels. In my daytime, the earth was surrounded in a faint haze of pollution. Here, there was nothing but the faint scent of wood smoke. Otherwise, the air was as clean and pristine as the beginning of the world. The water was clean, the air was clean, the ocean was full of fish, and wild animals still roamed the forests.
As a matter of fact, there was one right in front of me.
Nothing too scary, just a large, grey wolf. He was sitting in a clearing staring at me, and something in his yellow gaze was reassuring. He was not hungry, and his eyes seemed to tell me that he was just curious about the pale, two-legged beast shuffling noisily through the forest. It was his forest. He lived there. We were just passing through, but he had been born beneath the towering pines and would live his whole life there before dying beneath the very same trees. We were his guests for the short time we stayed there.
There was a swift stream nearby, and I washed myself. I was very careful to leave everything just as I’d found it.
The wolf had vanished silently. I suppose he was somewhere close by keeping an eye on us. The thought that maybe it was a druid flickered like a spark through my mind, but three thousand years of civilization put the spark out as if I’d dumped a whole bucket of water on it. Absurd. People don’t change themselves into animals. They simply can’t. It is impossible, going against all the laws of science and nature. Matter doesn’t change into other matter. The wolf was a wolf and that was that.
Of course, I’d come across a monkey claiming to be a druid. He could write in Greek on a wax tablet and pluck silver coins out of purses, but even that could be explained – by thin layers of wax, by patient training. I didn’t for an instant believe the monkey had really once been a man.
Or did I? I sat down at the water’s edge and stared at the flowing stream. Small green leaves floated in eddies. I plucked one and nibbled it. Watercress was one of the edible plants I was capable of recognizing. I sighed for no particular reason and glanced up at the sky, visible through the canopy. Sunlight dappled my face and arms. A trout splashed in the stream, startling me. I wished I knew what was going to happen next. I had the frightening feeling that I was cut off from the world. I hated the way we were being herded along towards an unknown destination. There had to be a way to escape, or at least turn the situation more towards our advantage.
What frightened me the most was that a group of powerful men had stolen Alexander’s soul somehow and had decided to change the future by using Paul to unite the tribes of Gaul. If that happened, the Gauls would defeat the Roman Empire. Progress would be stopped. The druids were leery of writing and still made human sacrifices. If they succeeded in their plans, history, as I knew it, would be erased, along with Alexander, me, and everyone we knew and loved.

Link: getbook.at/Soul-of-Time

– Jennifer Macaire is an American living in Paris. She likes to read, eat chocolate, and plays a mean game of golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St Peter and Paul High School in St Thomas and moved to NYC where she modelled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories

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