Tank (Dixie Reapers MC 9) by Harley Wylde

Congratulations to Harley Wylde on your new release!


 

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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

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

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!

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Jonny (Fallen Gliders MC 5) by Lynn Burke

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!


 

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#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)

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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:

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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/

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

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

The Soul of Time by Jennifer Macaire

Congratulations to Jennifer Macaire on your new release!


 

The Soul of Time: In the Land of Ice and Darkness, time-traveller Ashley faces The Thief of Souls (The Time For Alexander Series Book 6) by [Macaire, Jennifer]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

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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

Social Media Links –

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The #evernighties: A book that has influenced my life

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The #evernighties Thursday Weekly Author Blog Challenge is a once-a-week blogging adventure brought to you exclusively by Evernight authors. Each week, we answer a new question (listed below and borrowed from MFRW.org) and the answers will be featured on the Evernight Reader’s Group on Facebook, as well as our own blogs and social media platforms. Check out the group or follow the #evernighties tag to see how other authors answered this week’s question!

   
So, the topic of the day is, “A book that has influenced my life”.

More than a romance author, I am a suspense/thriller/horror author. More than steamy sex scenes, I love fast, hair-raising, edge-of-your-seat action scenes. I thrive delving in the dirty and the gory, I dig imagining blood and brain splatter, and I grin anticipating how my descriptions will make readers cringe. Yeah, I am that sadistical kind of author that goes for the kill, sometimes achingly slowly, building the tension, sometimes lashing out brutal words like a punch to your gut.

Where did I get all that nastiness from, you ask, in the world of litterature? Well, if I mention Mo Hayder, James Patterson, Lisa Gardner, Karen Slaughter (such a fitting name!), Ed McBain, Robert Ludlum, Jonathan Kellerman, Chelsea Cain, Ian Rankin, and of course Stephen King, to name just a few, you get the drift. But more than any other author, Cody McFadyen has lit my murderous fuse and given me the lethal inspiration I’ve been feeding on since, with his first book Shadow Man:
    

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To answer the topic question – has this book influenced my life? I would definitely say so, as it has inspired me to write and thus helped me become a published author, an endeavor that has completely changed the “quality” of my inner, private being.

Here is what I wrote in a review a few years ago:

“This book is without a single doubt my all-time favorite, one I have read again and again, a true source of inspiration on so many levels. 1 – The writing is top-notch, intense, pulls you forward, urges you to read on. 2 – It’s so full of emotions and gore and frantic action and suspense, you’re constantly sweating and holding your breath as you turn the pages at ligthtning speed. 3 – The main character is so alive, you crawl into her skin and feel her pain and think her thoughts before they’re even put to paper.

I want more of this, so much more, and although the sequels are very well done, I have yet to read a book that has shaken me so thoroughly and torn, stolen my soul as I was engulfed in the story and taken away to a different world.

Whoooo! I’d give it 10 stars if I could. But let it be said – it’s not for the soft-hearted.”

   
 
 

Not an object of her fantasy #MWTease from High-Risk Fever

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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: Micaela is sick, so Anne brings him some medicine…

* * *

   

Pulse racing, Anne closed the window and faced Micaela with her hands clenched at her sides. She didn’t know what else to do with them. Nervousness and anticipation raced through her. They hadn’t been face to face since he’d approached her last night, naked and very aroused.

God. The memory sent sweet tingles to her inner thighs, and from the gleam in his eye, he seemed to be recalling the same sensual encounter.

Yet, she couldn’t help being pissed at him for trying to seduce her. Because she now knew he had a boyfriend—which meant he’d betrayed both Todd and her. His behavior ultimately was root to her immoral thoughts and Brian’s desperate reaction in the cellar. She could not let Micaela come close again. She could not slip.

He glanced from the unmade bed to the pile of folded sheets on the desk before slumping on the chair with a throaty sigh.

Anne bit her lower lip while searching for the right words to say. “How are you?”

He shrugged. Keeping his shiny black eyes locked on hers, he put a hand on his throat. “Sore.”

“Yes, I heard you cough.” She pointed to the bottles on the desk. “I brought you some medicine and pastilles for your throat.”

Grazie.” He gave a weak nod, winced, and closed his eyes, as if in pain. In the next moment, he leaned forward to cough into his hands with his elbows on his knees. The coughing sounded like the barking of a big dog and shook his body. Long, black locks hung from his head like a curtain, jerking with each contortion.

Her stomach knotted. He might be a total stranger, but all that had happened last night inevitably connected them on some level. Which level, she wasn’t sure.

When the coughing subsided, he groaned and ran a hand along his flustered face, brushing aside a few hairs glued to his skin.

She took the box of pastilles on the table and went toward him, stopping a half-meter from his feet. Damp heat oozed from him. “Do you want a glass of cold water?”

He shrugged and clenched his teeth, as if speaking would be too painful.

“Cold water helps soothe the pain.” She opened the box. The sour-sweet scent of licorice rose to her nostrils.

Eyes feverish, he reached out a trembling palm.

She dropped the candy into it, careful to avoid physical contact—both due to the risk of contagion and because she didn’t want to know what it would feel like to touch his hot skin.

He put the pastille in his mouth and leaned back in the chair with his gaze fixed on her. Breathing deep, he sucked on the candy, but couldn’t seem to relax. Each intake of air caused his features to tighten. Tiny beads of sweat appeared all over his face and ran alongside his temples and bearded cheeks.

She closed the box and eyed him for a moment, trying to consider him as a patient and not an object of her fantasy. A difficult thing to achieve with the obvious tension between them and the way he stared into her eyes. At any moment, he could unbalance her.

   

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

   

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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.ukBarnes & Noble, KoboiBooks, 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

 
 

Finding fulfillment (Found by Fate 3) by Lynn Burke

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!


 

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Hash Tags: #BDSM #Contemporary #Romance #Erotic #Series #HEA

Finding Fulfillment

Found by Fate 3

By Lynn Burke

Release Date: January 21, 2019

KEYWORDS: BDSM, Contemporary, May/December Erotic, Romance, Series, HEA, Novella

BLURB:

Jade Matthews may be young, but she knows what she wants in a man–someone mature and kinky, a man who shares her deepest desires to have her pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen and submissively compliant in the bedroom.

Archer Brennan aches to unleash his dark side on the too-young grocery bagger, with her pert pony tail and glossy lips that makes him yearn for a taste. With an ex-wife and a messy divorce threatening to destroy his pursuit of happiness, he binds himself to one rule — hands-off Jade’s tight body until his divorce settlement is final.

A submissive must obey her Dom, but some rules were meant to be broken, and when one misstep threatens the dominant lawyer’s life, will Jade defy Archer’s hands-off decree or lose the only man capable of fulfilling all of her dreams?

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: books2read.com/findingfulfillmentfbf3

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Finding-Fulfillment-Found-Fate-Book-ebook/dp/B07MWVXSTS/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Fulfillment-Found-Fate-Book-ebook/dp/B07MWVXSTS

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1126423553

Kobo:

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/finding-fulfillment/id1449906799

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/918487

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EXCERPT:

Eyes closed, I strained to listen, wondering and worrying over what Archer planned. The front door closed, and my pulse thrummed.

Alone.

I pressed my knees tight as arousal slickened my sex. My breasts grew heavy, my nipples tight and chaffed by the dress.

“I sit here at my desk, thinking of you.” Archer’s low voice low sent shivers down my spine. “I’ve been dreaming about you all day. Your shy smile, sparkling eyes.”

A smile bloomed on my face, and I found myself relaxing.

“You show up ten minutes late for our appointment, but when you walk through my door in nothing more than a mere wrap dress, I can almost forgive you. Almost.”

He growled the word, but not in anger. Hunger filled his voice, and I pressed my knees tight again.

“I sit behind my desk and tell you to bare your body to me. Slow and easy, you untie your dress. The material swishes down your creamy skin to pool around your ankles. Pink flushes your chest, your face, as I take my time caressing your body with my gaze. Your pulse thrums in your neck.”

Oh, does it… I sucked in my lower lip.

“Your nipples are hard, straining for a touch, kiss, or bite. Your stomach quivers as my gaze slips lower. ‘Come here,’ I say. Knees trembling, you obey until you stand in front of me.

“I want to lean forward and lick your glistening pussy, but you were ten minutes late.”

My breath caught as my arousal peaked. One mere flick of my clit, and I felt sure I’d fly.

“I pull you down over my lap, head and legs dangling down either side, arms held tight behind your back with my left hand. The scent of your arousal rises to my nose, and I breath deep. Unable to help myself, I stroke the globe of your ass and dip between your thighs to find your wetness.

“Your pussy tightens on my fingers as they slide deep, your hips rising to meet each thrust of my hand. Whimpers escape your lips—”

I bit on the inside of my lips to keep a real one inside.

“—and you beg to come, but I withdraw my hand, denying your release. Your musky scent draws me like a bee to nectar, and I stick my fingers in my mouth, sucking them clean and groaning at your sweet taste.

“Then, whack!”

I jumped, a small yelp ripping from me even though Archer sat ten feet away from me.

“Your body jolts beneath my hand, but you have nine left. Within seconds, three hand prints flare to life on your skin, and you’re no longer struggling to escape. I sooth my palm over the red markings, and a moan slips from your lips. By the eighth swat, you lift your hips toward my hand with a needy groan, the pain morphed into pure pleasure.”

My mouth parted as I drew in air, quivering with the need to come.

“Are you wet for me, Jade?”

Through the buzzing in my ears, I realized he’d spoken to me directly. “God, yes,” I say, unable to help the honest need pouring from my words.

“Pull up your skirt and show me.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

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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/

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

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

The #evernighties: What would I do if I couldn’t be a writer?

evernighties thursday weekly author blog challenge

The #evernighties Thursday Weekly Author Blog Challenge is a once-a-week blogging adventure brought to you exclusively by Evernight authors. Each week, we answer a new question (listed below and borrowed from MFRW.org) and the answers will be featured on the Evernight Reader’s Group on Facebook, as well as our own blogs and social media platforms. Check out the group or follow the #evernighties tag to see how other authors answered this week’s question!

 

So, the topic of the day is, “What would I do if I couldn’t be a writer?”

There is no good answer to that. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, to create characters and situations (read: drama) is my personal getaway, and I’m so insanely lucky that there actually are people all over the world (!) willing to read the words I put onto paper and enjoying them, so if the means to relay my inner thoughts were to be taken away from me, it would be the same as to slowly drain me of life.

For fear that my mind, constantly bubbling with ideas, might implode, I would have to use my creativity in other fields. My inner voice does after all have a wealth of exciting new stories to tell and characters to develop, layer by layer. You can’t just ignore that.

Maybe I could draw instead, as I also used to do as a child. Or paint. Or sing. I did some pretty neat James Hetfield covers back in the day… 😉

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But you wouldn’t want to hear that, would you! LOL

So okay, maybe I would do more sports, more cooking, more activities with my kids, more traveling, more reading… It would certainly give me a much more active life on the outside, but would it be meaningful enough on the inside? I hope I’ll never have to find out.

If you missed last week’s topic, “How much of me is in what I write”, I recommend you read the post here as it explains further why being a writer is so important to me!

 

Reeking of pure masculine hotness #MWTease from High-Risk Fever

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

I haven’t posted anything in a while due to losing my drive after our beloved friend Doris O’Connor tragically passed away a couple weeks ago. But I know she would have wanted us to “stay naughty, peeps”, so I will continue posting teases in her memory ❤

This week’s tease is taken from my ménage erotica HIGH-RISK FEVER. In this scene, we’re continuing where we left off: Anne’s husband had a “sex-emotional” fit in the cellar, and now she’s trying to recoup.

* * *

   

When she reappeared in the kitchen, Todd stood in front of the stove, cross-armed, staring at a boiling kettle. Yellow candlelight danced on his thoughtful face as he turned to her, features drawn.

“Hey.” She gave him an encouraging smile. He had more on his plate than she did.

“Hey. I’m making a cup of tea for Micaela. He hasn’t eaten anything since last night.”

She nodded, closed the cellar door, and clicked off the flashlight. “Of course, make yourself at home. How is he?”

“Not well. He has a fever.” Worry flickered in his deep-emerald eyes.

“I’m going to get you the aspirin from upstairs.”

Shuffling steps sounded behind her, and Anne jumped. She was on edge and dreaded facing Brian again.

Brian entered the kitchen and looked between her and Todd with a placid face, hazel eyes devoid of emotion.

Anne sucked in a breath. Hurt and shame lurked, threatening to burst out.

He nodded to Todd. “Your friend’s pretty sick.” His low voice sounded constricted.

“Yeah. I hope he hasn’t caught pneumonia.”

Brian turned to her, eyes still expressionless. “Anne, why don’t you get him some medicine.”

“Yes.” With an inward sigh of relief—glad she was off the hook and could leave—she made for the door.

He stretched out an arm and stopped her, blocking the exit.

Her heart leapt. What did he want?

“By the way, the French family is leaving. They’ve had enough of the bad weather and want to go south.” He nodded to Todd. “That means a room is available for you and your friend. If you intend to stay.”

Calmness washed through her. For a second, she’d believed he would bring up what happened in the cellar and scold her in public. But he’s not going to make a scene.

“That’s great!” Todd smiled. “It wouldn’t be wise to move on now that Micaela is sick.”

“But I have only one room for the both of you. The other tenants are staying a while longer. I’m not sure how many days, but—”

“That’s fine. Thanks.”

“It’s fifty euro a night.”

“Sure, no prob.” Todd broadened his smile. Probably one less stone for him to carry.

An ill loved one was so heartbreaking. In the past two and a half years, Papa had progressively suffered from Alzheimer’s, losing memory, messing things around in the house, and failing to recognize his own family. Maman’s decision to move into an apartment in town was the only wise thing to do, and though she never told Anne much about her feelings, watching her beloved husband reach the end stage of life in such a condition must be extremely painful.

I pray Brian and I never have to go through that.

Brian turned to her. “Would you mind changing their bed sheets?”

“Not at all. I’m on my way.” She exited the kitchen.

Her heartbeat slowed. Flashlight in hand, she went up the creaking stairs to the landing. Micaela’s hoarse cough sounded in the living room behind her, and she paused to listen, hand on the paneled wall, wondering what she could do to help. Not much, yet.

Brandishing the flashlight, she walked past the tenant rooms and entered her empty bedroom. Among a variety of medical supplies in a cupboard, she found a small box of licorice pastilles and bottles of soluble aspirin, vitamin C, and cough mixture.

She grabbed a pile of clean sheets from the bigger closet—the one against which Micaela had pinned her—and carried everything to the vacant tenant room down the hall.

The door was unlocked. She put the sheets and medicine on a small desk in the corner. The room contained a double bed with ruffled sheets, a small table on each side, and a chair. The distinct smell from the previous tenants lingered. Dim light peeked in from two windows overlooking the street. Rain clattered on the glass panes, and playful gusts of wind made the hinges shake.

She opened a window to let in fresh air. Her hair blew back and danced around. Horizontal raindrops whipped her face, but she welcomed each cold sting as if it could wash away her confusion. Chains of heavy black clouds moved from one side of the village to the other, weighing on the neighboring buildings before being replaced with new clouds. Thunder raged like some monster in the distance, threatening to crack open the skies.

The door handle clanked behind her. She froze then turned with her heart in her throat.

Micaela stood in the doorway smiling, wearing the same pullover and sweatpants as yesterday. He stepped in and closed the door. In the dim light, his pale face looked clammy and his dark eyes shone with sickness. Yet the straight, confident way he held himself revealed not only the stance of a dancer, but pride and inner strength. Beard stubble covered his handsome chin. He reeked of pure masculine hotness.

   

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

   

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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.ukBarnes & Noble, KoboiBooks, 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

 

The Romantic by Elodie Parkes

Congratulations to Elodie Parkes on your new release!


  

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MM romance from eXtasy Books

Handsome Luke Kirby loves books, so when he finds boxes of old and beautiful tomes in a dusty shop, he can’t resist buying them. To his delight one of them contains what he hopes will bring an end to his loneliness and heartache. As he prepares to cast an ancient prayer spell to the god of love, across town Ethan Goss decides that moving to a new apartment will ease his broken heart.

With the help of an eccentric real estate agent, gorgeous Ethan goes to a viewing in the block where Luke lives.

When Luke meets Ethan in the lobby, it’s the start of a passionate love affair.

Fate hasn’t finished with the two handsome men—will true happiness evade them both?

Warning: This story contains MM sex in the love scenes. HEA

  

Buy the book

Amazon / mybook / Extasy Books / Smashwords

  

Read a teaser

In the lobby, Victor stopped walking. “I should show you the garden, but I need the key for the gate. It’s in my car. Wait here a moment.” He strode rapidly out of the front doors.

Ethan checked out the table in the foyer where mail sat in three neat stacks. One stack had a lot, the others not much at all. Ethan couldn’t help reading the names on the envelopes. As his gaze traveled over the addresses, someone clattered down the polished hardwood stairs.

Ethan turned to the footsteps.

A young man glanced up from watching where his feet fell. His blue eyes locked with Ethan’s stare.

Ethan gazed at him, and his stomach lurched. His heart pounded. Not one word would form in his mind other than, Wow.

The young man smiled, approaching the table. “Hi. I’m collecting my snail mail—yeah, not much as usual.”

Through a daze of attraction, Ethan watched the man pick up the two envelopes in his stack. He looked the young man up and down, taking in his hard body and fashionably cut dark hair. He held back a sigh of appreciation as the man turned to him.

“Are you the new tenant?” He waved a hand at the apartment door.

His low voice traveled over Ethan like a glaze of melting honey. Ethan stared at the man’s handsome face. He is gorgeous. About my age, too. “I haven’t taken the place yet, just…just viewed it.”

The young man moved closer. “You should take it. There aren’t many places as good, big, and with a garden this close to the city.” He held out his hand. “Luke Kirby. I live on the third floor, but that’s my patch of garden next to yours, if you take the place. It might seem odd to have to trundle down the stairs to sit in the sun with my coffee, but I’ve grown used to it.” His eyes sparkled at Ethan. He held Ethan’s gaze as he talked.

Butterflies filled Ethan’s stomach. He couldn’t stop his heart hammering and wondered if he could actually speak, meeting Luke had such an effect on him. “Ethan Goss.” He shook Luke’s hand. What he felt like doing was pulling the guy close and kissing those perfect lips that moved again.

“Pleased to meet you.” Luke held on to Ethan’s hand. His eyes held something unspoken.

A wave of longing rose through Ethan. His loneliness and need for sex put an ache in his stomach, replacing the butterflies. He glanced down at the strong hand gripping his, wondering if he could hold on a little longer, despite how weird that might be. Better not, that’s kinda creepy. All the same, it wasn’t Ethan who abandoned the handshake.

Luke let go but trailed his fingertips along Ethan’s palm as he withdrew his hand.

With his skin tingling from the touch, Ethan gazed into Luke’s blue eyes and knew. He’s gay. He somehow knows I am, too—probably the way I’m ogling him. He’s interested in me. Thank you, god. Ethan flashed his eyes at Luke with a flirtatious expression he usually reserved for cute guys he met in the gay bar.

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2019 eXtasy Books

  

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If You Can’t Handle the Heat by H K Carlton

Congratulations to H K Carlton on your new release!


 

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Thank you for inviting me to your blog today. I’m doubly excited to share not only the re-launch of, If You Can’t Handle the Heat, but this re-release is also my first self-publishing venture.

This story was previously published with the title If You Can’t Stand the Heat. Though there is a little bit of added content, the story remains relatively the same.

In this erotic story, two very different professionals are brought together as celebrity judges on a reality-based cooking show. Sesto Théodore—the celeb chef that the show is built around—meets walking cliché, Syn Fully, erotic novelist. Though there is an immediate conflict in personalities, there is also an instant sizzling attraction. A classic clash and burn.

If You Can’t Handle the Heat
by
H K Carlton

Blurb:

c7f77-ifyoucanthandletheheat-FINALAn unlikely couple is brought together as celebrity judges on a new reality-based cooking show.

Sesto Théodore, is an arrogant yet well respected American-Italian chef, with several five-star restaurants.

Once bitten, twice shy, Syn Fully, is a jaded author of erotica, rocketing her way up all the best sellers lists.

From the moment Syn and Sesto meet, their personalities clash, yet behind the scenes sparks fly. Getting together would be a recipe for disaster, but hot sex with no-strings couldn’t hurt. At least not until real feelings get involved.

But just when Syn considers opening her damaged heart to the cocky chef, video of rather personal content is leaked online. Sesto immediately jumps to conclusions and accuses Syn of the privacy breach.

Can the arrogant chef forgive and forget, or will his pride leave him out in the cold?

Somebody’s about to get burned…

Possible Triggers: Please note one scene contains borderline bdsm and dubious consent/forcible confinement. Also in this story intimate video is obtained without the knowledge or consent of the participants involved, and later distributed online

Author’s Note: This erotic story has been previously published with the title, If You Can’t Stand the Heat. Though there is a little bit of added content, the story remains relatively the same. It has been re-edited and re-formatted for re-release, and has a sizzling new cover thanks to Studioenp

Buy Link:
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Excerpt:

Sesto took the opportunity to turn his wrath on Syn. “May I speak to you out in the hall, please!” he demanded, shooting to his feet.

“Of course,” she responded, haughtily, as though she hadn’t just been giving him the initial stages of a hand job under the table.

Sesto allowed Syn to take the lead. He was momentarily captivated by her long shapely legs, as she stalked across the space, confident and oh-so fuckin’ sexy in those red stilettos. Sesto pulled level with her and couldn’t resist the urge to place his hand to the small of her back, left bare by the severe cut of her dress. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d trembled at the contact. Or was it his hand that quivered?

In the corridor, Syn rounded on him, at the same moment he blurted, “What the fuck do you think…”

The words died on his tongue, as she once again stroked his shaft through his trousers. Her gaze settled on his mouth. Her breathing was shallow.

“Where’s your dressing room?” she asked, backing him up.

Sesto grabbed her other wrist and dragged her into the green room, before slamming the door behind them.

He yanked her hand, above her head and forced it against the door. He half-expected her to fight. What he wasn’t prepared for was the brazen little smile that hooked her sinful lips, as she raised her arm to join the other. With both hands stretched above her head Syn arched toward him, thrusting her beautiful tits, right in his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked again. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I know. Isn’t it wicked, how our bodies want to though.”

He groaned, shifting uncomfortably foot to foot, yet he couldn’t focus on anything but her lovely breasts.

“Go ahead, Théo, set them free,” she tempted, her voice barely above a whisper.

© H K Carlton
Buy Link:
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About the Author:

H K Carlton is a multi-genre Canadian author of romance, with over thirty titles in publication. From naughty to nice, historical to contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.

Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me

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In the Eye of the Wind by Katherine Wyvern

Congratulations to my lovely partner-in-crime Katherine Wyvern on your new release! I know this was a fun book for you to write, so I’m seriously looking forward to taking a deep dive into the world of sexy, naughty pirates 🙂


 

Hello and thank you so very much for hosting me today with my latest creature!

In the Eye of the Wind was written in one mad dash last summer and it’s the ultimate proof that an author has only marginal control on their characters. It is the story of an elf-pirate that was born by accident. In every possible way. The character came about one evening when I botched up an elf-portrait, so that he gained an eye-patch. There he was, an elf-pirate!

I was blown over. He was so sexy and beautiful! But I was writing a different book and I didn’t want to get involved with him. I tried to play coy. He wasn’t taking any of it though. He’s not the patient type. He was adamant that he wanted his story written, and written NOW.

So I dropped everything else and I started writing, with no ide where I was going with it. He was supposed to be light and fun. Nope. No way. He turned out to be a slightly demonic character with a seriously dark side to him. He was supposed to be bisexual (the original working title was The Queen’s Corsair, nuff said), but no, he wanted to have nothing to do with chicks, thank you very much. Gave me one hell of a rigmarole about that. He was supposed to have a menage story. No way. He turned out to be a man who loves only once. Jeez, as characters go, he wiped the floor with me beginning to end.

It was the most fun I ever had while typing.

 

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Born in the northern wastes of Kaleva in the middle of a devastating war between light and darkness, Rikko’ has found his way south to the warm shores of the Circled Sea, the first elver to ever turn pirate.

Forbidden by the rules of the Andalouan court to pursue such an ungentlemanly career, Gael can only dream of ever becoming a doctor, and his medical studies remain unfinished until his aunt the Queen sends him on a covert mission to the pirate city of Beyas’kahl.

And here, after one night with Rikko’, all his loyalties are put to the test.

Queen Amata has reigned for three decades, and she always used her men cunningly. But even the best player can miscalculate, and her blunder places Gael first in slavery, then in a naval battle, and finally, worst of all, face to face with Rikko’s darkest and deadliest side.

From such darkness, is there any coming back? Is there any hope of love for Gael, or redemption for Rikko’?

 
 

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Excerpt:

“Come, Puna, sweetie,” he said, plucking the lemur off Gael’s shoulder with one hand. He placed her on his chest of drawers, on a pile of freshly laundered clothes, her favorite bedding in the world, after himself. She grumbled a little but soon settled down. “And as for you, my boy, you come here to me,” he whispered, drawing Gael to the edge of his bed, where they both tumbled down together, kissing.

Gael was still frantically pecking at him, with those tight-lipped clueless kisses that drove Rikko’ to distraction. He let himself be kissed like that for some minutes—it was so ridiculously lovable.

Ah, it is a pity to teach him anything, he thought. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He knows nothing, except that he has this need…

But you can’t have your cake and eat it, I suppose.

“Wait, sweet, wait,” he whispered finally, and laid Gael on his back, pinning his body down with his folded leg as he lay beside him, and took his cheek in his palm. He put his mouth to Gael’s mouth, and gently, slowly, savoring every minute instant of it, he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of those tightly closed lips, lightly at first, then harder, until the lips finally parted, like two halves of a plum, and Gael gasped in surprise and then lust. His body arched in desire when Rikko’s tongue met his, and he groaned with hunger, welcoming the new intimacy of that tongue-to-tongue kiss with an adoring fierceness that had Rikko’ near to tears with emotion. He groaned again, hugging Rikko’ closer, sinking his fingers in his hair, touching his face and neck and ears, pursuing his mouth when Rikko’ pulled back to breathe, licking Rikko’s lips.

Rikko’ had never met any grown man (Gael was young, sure, but not a child—Rikko’ despised child lovers, and never, ever went close to the little creatures himself) both so inexperienced, so shy, and yet so wholeheartedly passionate. It was enchanting, and utterly enflaming. He laughed softly and pulled back from the kisses. This was just too much. He could not wait any longer. He needed to touch this boy properly all over; he had to have his cock in his mouth, and maybe, if Gael was so inclined, inside that beautiful, taut little butt.

“Too many clothes,” he said, in Gael’s ear. He kicked off his flip-flops, and realized, with a bit of a shock, that he was still wearing his dagger, stuck in his sash, and his sword belt. He had forgotten all about them. He crossed the room to lay both weapons on his chest of drawers and untied his sash, and felt Gael’s hands on his hips.

“C—can I? Sir? Please?” whispered the boy, and Rikko’ smiled as Gael, with almost religious awe, unwound the length of silk from around his waist and hips and let it fall to the floor around his feet.

Rikko’ stepped out of the puddled folds and murmured, “You too.”

He finished undressing in a few seconds. He never wore a lot. It just got in the way.

Gael took off his clothes, and Rikko’ watched him from the bed, waiting. Under those strangely unattractive breeches and shirt, he was every bit as delicious as Rikko’ had always known he would be, not particularly muscular, but sleek and quick, and just a little awkward, like a young animal, full-grown but still uncertain of his body.

Rikko’ pulled him close, pressing that lithe soft form against his own, and their cocks met halfway, both hard and quite ready, so that they had to be pulled up against their bellies for them to embrace. Rikko’ smiled and palmed Gael’s butt, and kissed him, deep and long, and then put a hand between them and took the boy’s member in his fingers just for a bit of a feel, a bit of foreplay.

He tugged at the lovely taut cock once.

Gael gave a sort of astonished yelp, tensed all over, and then moaned wildly against Rikko’s shoulder, oh, oh, ooh, and suddenly Rikko’ found himself awash in hot, splashing, dripping jets of sperm, all down his belly, lap, and leg, a veritable, goddamn, bleeding flood of it.

He let go, dumbfounded, and then burst into laughter.

“Wh—well, I’ll be … what the…” he began, but, really, he could only laugh. I just barely touched him!

“Damn it, doctor, our ship sprung a leak,” he said finally, still laughing. “I’m drowned!”

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” said Gael, absolutely frantic, “oh gods, sir, I am so sorry!” He jumped out of bed, fumbling around. “I’ll find my handkerchief, sir, I’ll mop it up this minute…”

Rikko’ laughed even harder and stretched out to pull him back in bed.

“Stop that. Leave it. Leave it, damn it! It’s all right. I’m joking. It’s all right! It’s all good! Stuff’s good for the skin, it is known. Leave it.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

  

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Visit In the Eye of the Wind’s web page with maps and an exclusive excerpt:

http://meetingivory.wixsite.com/katherinewyvern/in-the-eye-of-the-wind

 

Amazon (free sample): https://www.amazon.com/Eye-Wind-Katherine-Wyvern-ebook/dp/B07MWFND8Z/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=in+the+eye+of+the+wind+wyvern&qid=1547809523&sr=8-1-spell

 

Evernight (sexy ecerpt): https://www.evernightpublishing.com/in-the-eye-of-the-wind-by-katherine-wyvern/

 
 

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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.

 
 

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

 

 

 

The #evernighties: How much of me is in what I write

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The #evernighties Thursday Weekly Author Blog Challenge is a once-a-week blogging adventure brought to you exclusively by Evernight authors. Each week, we answer a new question (listed below and borrowed from MFRW.org) and the answers will be featured on the Evernight Reader’s Group on Facebook, as well as our own blogs and social media platforms. Check out the group or follow the #evernighties tag to see how other authors answered this week’s question!

 

So, the topic of the day is, “How much of me is in what I write?”

Obviously, unless you believe in reincarnation, I’ve never been a Viking in the deep Norwegian fjords or a Ute Indian fighting for his land during the Civil War. I suck at playing ice hockey, I will never willingly pose before a camera, I haven’t ever volunteered to heroically fight fires, and I certainly haven’t killed anyone (that I know of, anyway).

But my Alv Gunnulfsen is a darn realistic gay Viking avenger and my portrayal of Native American peoples and culture will plunge you into the past so effectively, you’ll think you’re in a Western movie. My hockey champion Slay will take both a Dark Captive and your breath away on the ice rink, romance author Andrea posing in front of a sly photographer in The Perfect Shoot will make you sweat (whether it’s the intense heat from lamps or her proximity to hunky top model Yushka is for you to decide), my firefighter hero Runo will give you multiple heart failures and heart aches in Fiery 10-16, and I swear if you smell blood while reading Wild Hearted, that’s me thrusting a knife between my victim’s ribs and snickering. Or pulling a trigger so brain mass rains all over me, punching his face until it’s an unrecognizable blob, or, after having carved out his carotid, piercing it with the thin tip of a blade, just like that, for fun.

Yeah, because my characters are me. Who did you think gave them a voice, a heart, a soul, a conscience? I’m the one fighting, longing, loving fiercely, getting off, and losing my mind. If you think my characters are malicious and arrogant, yep, that’s me, hello! living out who I cannot be in real life. Does a scene with fusing body parts and loud moans make you hot and bothered? You may point the finger at me: I most likely enjoyed writing that scene. Can you feel one of my characters’ soul bleed? Oh, baby, that’s me crying my heart out. Or maybe you hear a self-satisfied cackle? Yep, I’m the whacko typing away furiously, playing with words, juggling them, carefully gauging their place in a sentence. Eh, over six hundred thousand of them have been thrown out to the wolves by now and I’m still around.

How can I describe any setting or situation if I haven’t been there and done that, you ask? And how do I create – embody – persons I’ve never met, how can I know what they think, how they feel deep inside, and how they are going to react? Well, 50 % of writing a book is research, and I thank the heavens for the internet so I don’t have to travel to the Great Plains in the US or the Sahara desert in Africa to know what it’s like over there – and the other 50 % is me, simply. I’m human, and so I make my characters human. I can be both a man and a woman, or I can choose to be a feminine man falling for other men. I can be good and bad, gentle and terrifying, a slut, a thug, a sadist plotting a vicious murder and lovin’ it, or an angel out to save the world. I can feel young and old, devoid of life or full of it, tormented or thirsting for a fight.

All it takes to start developing a new persona – a new me – is a call from one of my beloved muses talking me into writing a new story, or a publisher offering to assemble stories for an anthology. And as soon as an idea begins to form, you can betcha my character is spending days and nights hovering over my shoulder, whispering into my ear, telling me his miseries and his cravings and his dreams. I know who he is, and come hell or high water, I’ll breathe flames of passion into his soul and bleed tears of love until his story is ready for the world to read.

 
 

New cover love for #dark #erotic #MMMMM The Audition!

Thanks to BookCoverZone for another gorgeous cover!!

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Cover art: Book Cover zone

 

Ruthless drug lord Ricardo “El Loco” Ferrer launders his black money by investing in movie productions. As a teen, he learned to enjoy blow jobs in jail. Now a man of power, his favorite pastime is checking out new acting talent…and convincing them to “please” the team of producers.

Young wannabe actor Jaden Moore comes to a shady side of town to audition for a movie part. He longs to shine, wants to walk the red carpet with cameras flashing and a crowd cheering. He assures the film director and the investors he’ll do anything to reach the top, but is he willing to comply with their dirty fantasies?

 

excerpt

 

Add the book to your shelf on:

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Universal eBook buy link:

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Or get the eBook on:

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Finding Freedom (Found by Fate 2) by Lynn Burke

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!


 

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#MMF #Bisexual #Contemporary #Romance #Erotic #Series #HEA

Finding Freedom

Found by Fate 2
Release Date: January 7, 2019

 

BLURB:

Will two men be Tessa’s ticket to freedom – or her one way trip to eternal damnation?
Tessa’s life beneath the strict rules of her parents’ cultish church leaves her longing for independence. Her boring, small-town checkout lane job barely covers the bills, let alone fulfill her wants and desires.
Until the weekly visits of god-like Trent and Brody have her dreaming of a Tessa sandwich with both sensual men as her bread.
Fantasies may be a pastime of the wicked, but when Trent asks her on a date—with both him and Brody—Tessa decides to take a chance, knowing the purity of her soul is at stake. Will these two men be her ticket to freedom – or her one way trip to eternal damnation?

 

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: books2read.com/findingfreedomfbf2
iTunes: itunes.apple.com/us/book/finding-freedom/id1080787689

 

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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.

As a voracious reader herself, Lynn appreciates all of her readers, and hopes she can take them on a journey with her writing.

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

SHARE REQUEST: Passion, Pleasure, Pain benefit anthology due Feb 14

SHARE REQUEST:

💜~~~COMING FEB 14, 2019!~~~💜

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

💜💜💜100 % of the proceeds will go to our friend Doris O’Connor and her family.💜💜💜

Participating authors and editors: Lynn Burke, R. Brennan, Jenika Snow, Lesli Richardson, London Saint James, Kastil Eavenshade, Jan Graham, Raven McAllan, Erin Leaf, Elyzabeth M. Valey, Katherine Wyvern, DC Stone, and Lea Bronsen. Cover art by Lesli Richardson.

If you’d like to help share the release, please fill out the Google Doc.

💜Thank you!!💜

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Temptation by Raven McAllan

Congratulations to Raven McAllan on your new release!


 

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Thank you so much for offering to host me today. The champagne is on ice, the chocolate open and ready, and I have no nails as I wait and see what people think.

However, I’m very excited about the fact that Temptation, the first book in my new series, Isola dei Sogni is now available from Evernight Publishing here

(You can also get it on Amazon, and from other eBook vendors as well.)

Several years ago I had two short stories out about Isola dei Sogni, an island where dreams and fantasies come true if you let them. It’s run by a rather unusual group of ‘characters’ to say the least, and there are several more stories in the series to come. (I hope).

The rights reverted to me and I pondered until eventually, I lengthened the stories and sent them to Evernight.

Who, quite rightly decided book two Temptation would make a better book one. The other story Impulse is now book two and will be released in March.

(I hope that’s not confusing.)

So Temptation is ready to be read. I do hope if you decide to give it a go, you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I had a blast.

 

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An island where dreams and fantasies come true?

Unheard of.

That’s what Meryl thought until someone showed her the brochure.

Dare she?

It was all well and good until the one person she didn’t want to see was there. Ready, willing and able to give her those fantasies.

Marloth couldn’t believe his eyes when the one lady he truly loved appeared on Isola Dei Sogni. Was this his second chance to prove his love for her?

Now he just had to get her to believe in him, and that they had a future together.

Being a shifter wasn’t going to help. He’d need all of his human skills to achieve his heart’s desire.

 
 

Now a wee tease for you…

Sometimes, Meryl thought, life sucked. What had she learned? Not a lot except strong emotions hurt and mating with a shifter was fraught with difficulty. She touched her shoulder and it throbbed under her finger. The damned mark she’d noticed on the plane seemed to have deepened, almost as if it were permanent. Not only that, she realized it almost matched the one high on her thigh that served as a reminder of her earlier time with Marloth.

Oh, so not good. She needed to erase him from her life, not keep him in it. Surely, she didn’t hear a voice mutter, “You and me both,” and then as if an afterthought, “That’s not going to happen, though, is it?” As much as she wished she didn’t, she agreed with the sentiment.

“Did you speak?” Meryl asked Marloth, suspicion in her voice. He glanced up from whatever he’d been studying and shook his head.

“Nah. Why?” He switched something on—or off—and pointed ahead. “That’s where we’re off to. Tranquillita—Tranquility. Once there, you can do your own thing. I won’t interfere unless you ask me to.” His tone showed he thought there was as much likelihood of that as Elvis appearing and serenading them.

The tiny dot on the horizon he’d pointed to grew bigger by the second. Meryl stood up to get a better view. The boat surged and she fell back down onto the bench in a very inelegant sprawl.

“Sorry.” If ever a word didn’t convey its meaning, that was it.

She could only hope that if glares conveyed what they meant, he’d be very worried about his balls—human or otherwise. “Of course, you are,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you be?” A red tinge spread over his chest and face, and Meryl chuckled. “You might need something for that.” She pointed to his blush and sniggered. “After all, it seems to be spreading at a fair pace. I do hope it isn’t contagious.” He muttered something and growled. An honest to goodness, don’t-mess-with-me-I’m-dangerous growl. Meryl ignored it. He wasn’t dangerous to her, and they both knew it. Not in a scratch, bite, and maim way. Unless you count him marking her as his, and they both knew what a lie that was. In a mess-with-my-mind-and-ruin-me-for-anyone-else way, though? That was a whole different ball game. Argh, no, don’t even think of ball games.

“One day, I might just tip you over my lap and redden your ass.” Marloth spoke as if he was commenting on the price of wine. “I’ll give you ball games.”

He was at it again. Am I that transparent? As for redden my ass? No way. So why did her breath hitch and her skin tingle in anticipation?

“Come on, Meryl, be honest with yourself. We both know you like it, and we also know what was between us is still there. The thing is, what do we do about it?”

Meryl wondered how he managed to keep his tone so level. There they were, discussing—well, what were they discussing? She thought back to his last words.

“Nothing, we do nothing. It’s over and I’ve moved on, even if you haven’t.” But had she? Meryl didn’t want to think that question through. She hurried on. “And if you think you’re going anywhere near my ass, believe me, it’ll be the last thing you do before you have your balls cut off.”

He laughed. The sheer joy of it, along with undertones of danger and passion, wrapped around her and zinged to her clit.

Damn it, even his laugh wass more like a come-here-and-stroke-my-fur demand. Or a let-me-mark-you-and-claim-you-as-mine one. Why the hell was he so sure of himself, and she a quivering wreck of anxiety? And need.

“Not a chance, love.” He sobered, and the pain on his face made her tummy churn. He looked as if he’d seen heaven and hell, and it was hell that beckoned. “My balls stay attached.”

 

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Hope you enjoyed it.

Happy reading,

Love, Raven x

 
 

 

His to Protect (An Alpha’s Claim 2) by Maia Dylan

Congratulations to Maia Dylan on your new release!


 
 

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Kaea Hemopo was a man on a mission. He planned to kill the bastard who killed his grandmother, and nothing was going to stop him. He had the man lined up in his sights, his finger on the trigger, and was prepared to die to get it done, but then Kaea found out that he was following the wrong man.

Xavier Mulligan had been stalking his own prey the night he met his mate. He’d been shocked to discover that Kaea was not only there to kill him, but thought he was the asshole who’d murdered his own father. Xavier would just have to make his mate see him for what he was, and accept his very nature. How hard could that be?

Can Kaea and Xavier find a way to work together to avenge those who were taken from them, and retrieve that which was stolen from Kaea’s family, or will Xavier’s need for control be the one thing that could tear them both apart?

  

**M/M, anal penetration, erotic romance, paranormal, shape-shifter

 
 

Purchase Links:

Amazon UK / Amazon US / Evernight Publishing / Bookstrand

 
 

Excerpt:

Kaea moved a little beneath him, and Xavier had to bite back a groan as his hips nestled a little closer to his.

“Do you—wait, am I naked?” Kaea asked incredulously, and Xavier couldn’t hold back a grin.

“That you are, my lovely. You were damp and dirty from being out in the forest and trying to kill me. I couldn’t very well pop you into bed like that, now could I?”

Kaea frowned as he leaned slightly to the side and looked at Xavier lying on top of him. “And you’re naked because…”

“I was in the shower.” Xavier shrugged. “Again, not somewhere where clothes are necessarily all that helpful. I came out of the bathroom when you woke up. Didn’t have time to go throw any clothes on.”

Kaea nodded, and a delicious red heat swept over the dark skin of his cheeks. “That makes sense, but you could let me go, get up and throw some clothes on now that I no longer want to hurt you, right?”

“But I like it where I am. Do I gotta?” Xavier had never pouted in his life, but he tried in this moment just to have fun with his mate.

Kaea’s laughter was quick and genuine, and had Xavier’s heart doing strange somersaults inside him. “Yes, you do. Come on, it’s very distracting having you lying on top of me.”

Xavier grinned, and knew it was just as wicked as he felt. “I love that you find me distracting, love, because the feeling is most definitely mutual.” Kaea’s eyes darkened, and Xavier knew he liked that particular revelation. “But, you’re right. I’m hungry, and healing this gunshot wound I seemed to have acquired recently has taken a lot of energy.”

Xavier pushed up from the bed, and grinned when he watched Kaea’s gaze wander down his abdomen, but shot back to the puckered scar of the wound on his shoulder. “Crap. Did I apologize for shooting you?”

Xavier resettled the towel around his hips. “No, you did not, and that was very remiss of you. I’ll expect you to make that up to me very soon. Repeatedly.”

Kaea’s soft laughter followed him as he stepped toward the back of the room where he’d put his bag. He grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them on under the towel, then dropped it to the floor. He turned back toward the bed and laughed himself when he saw Kaea up on his elbows as if to get a better view.

“See something you might like, love?”

Kaea grinned at him, and Xavier could have sworn he felt his heart stutter in his chest. “Maybe, but I’m not a man who gives all his secrets away when he’s just met a man. I prefer a slow build up to a quick flash that’s over too damn soon.” Xavier scowled. “What’s put that look on your face?”

“I don’t like to think of you with other men.” Xavier heard the possessiveness in his own tone, but wouldn’t apologize for it. He was a dominant Alpha bear, and one who did not play well with others. Kaea needed to know and understand that. “I don’t share. You’re mine.”

Kaea arched a sardonic brow in his direction, and it irritated and aroused him at the same time. “Yours?” Xavier could practically feel the temperature in the room fall. “I don’t remember ever being asked if I’d be yours, or even if I wanted you. You presume too much.”

Xavier growled, his anger rising within him. “It’s not a presumption when I could feel your fucking arousal just as sure as you could feel mine, Kaea.”

© MAIA DYLAN, EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING, 2018

 
 

All about Maia Dylan:

Mother, wife, author, and all around crazy…

I write the kind of books that I love to read. Love stories between strong men and their independent soulmates. Usually, their path to Happily Ever After is a bumpy one, but there is always a Happy Ever After.

In the world’s I create there is someone (or two, or three) for everyone!  Love comes in many forms and I believe it is all beautiful and should be celebrated!

I live, love and write in New Zealand, married to my husband of fifteen years with two beautiful children who I truly believe were sent as a blessing, but sometimes to try my patience, and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

 
 

Social media links:

Publishers Author Page:  http://www.evernightpublishing.com/maia-dylan/

Amazon Authors Page US: http://amazon.com/author/maiadylan

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/maiadylanauthor

Facebook Author page:  https://facebook.com/authormaiadylan

Street Team FB Page – https://www.facebook.com/groups/smestreetteam

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13724210.Maia_Dylan

Twitter – https://www.twitter.com/Maiadylanauthor

Website – http://www.maiadylan.com

Blog – http://www.maiadylan.com/#!blog/c112v

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/maiadylan/

Newsletter sign up link:  http://www.maiadylan.com/#!contact/c1kcz

 

 

Angel’s Eye (The Sons of Gomorrah 3) by Katerina Ross

Congratulations to Katerina Ross on your new release!


 

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Add to Goodreads

 

The Sons of Gomorrah is a paranormal M/M series set in Prague. It’s a beautiful city where anything magical might happen…but sometimes it’s dark magic.

For Tristan Todorov, formerly a freelance magician and now a consultant on occult matters, living with an incubus turns out to be rather challenging. Not only because there’s little information on incubi, Gomorrah pleasure demons. Jarek, the one he has a contract with, has a fiery personality and a dark past, and sometimes he’s a mystery Tristan can’t decipher.

When Tristan ends up in possession of an illegal artifact with peculiar powers, he hopes it might help him and Jarek to finally understand each other. Will it be a blessing indeed—or a curse that might put them both in danger?

 

Purchase links:

The Sons of Gomorrah on Amazon

Angel’s Eye on Amazon / SmashwordsEvernight Publishing

 

Excerpt:

In the shower, Tristan discovered there was a bruise where Jarek had been gripping his hip, in addition to the hickeys. He poked at it experimentally. It was strangely enticing, to be marked like that. He wouldn’t mind if Jarek joined him, like he often did, and explored his skin under the hot spray in search for more marks of the same origin, but Jarek stayed away this time and Tristan couldn’t muster enough cheekiness to call him.

During breakfast, they always bumped into each other in the tiny kitchen, and Tristan liked it. Particularly when Jarek wore nothing but boxers, like now, and sometimes even less. Today, however, Jarek kept his distance, and it was a tad worrying, but Tristan withheld from commenting on it.

It wasn’t until Tristan started washing the dishes when Jarek finally slipped closer. Very close. He caged Tristan in against the counter, one arm on each side of his body, not quite pinning him but also not giving him anywhere to go. He licked a swath of skin below Tristan’s ear, which was a nice way to start a conversation.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I? Tonight.”

Maybe it was easier for him to talk when Tristan wasn’t looking.

It was the same for Tristan. If it made Jarek forget his nightmare, he didn’t mind a little rough, and he had no problem with saying that, face to face. But he had something else to admit, and it was better doing it like this.

“Uh. I liked it, actually.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Jarek whispered into his nape. His hands hiked up Tristan’s t-shirt, slid underneath it, but not demanding this time, just tenderly wandering up and down Tristan’s flanks. “I … you see, it wasn’t … I wouldn’t normally…”

Jarek seemed to be uncharacteristically out of words.

Tristan turned, facing him now, but still pinned to the counter by Jarek’s whole body.

“It’s really fine. I know you would have stopped if I said I didn’t like it.”

Jarek avoided his gaze.

“I’m usually more … calculating. In the sense, how would it feel for you if I do this, how you’re going to respond if I do that. I’m not supposed to be…”

“…enjoying yourself?”

“More like losing control. Don’t get me wrong, I get off on this kind of scheming. I guess it’s natural for incubi, watching for reactions, striving to get it right. It’s part of the fun, doing a detective’s work while shagging. Or a psychologist’s. So I’m enjoying myself perfectly well. But tonight … it was a bit egotistic, wouldn’t you say?”

Tristan leaned in to nip at Jarek’s lower lip, rubbed his nose against Jarek’s. “Hey, it’s called spontaneous sex.”

Jarek sighed like he hadn’t been entirely convinced, but answered with a slow open-mouthed kiss to Tristan’s chin, licking down his neck after that to lave at the spots where he’d left suck marks last night.

“Sorry about those,” he murmured. He sounded genuinely apologetic.

Tristan let out a small laugh, embarrassed to confess they fascinated him. “That could be a way to tell us two from each other, I guess.”

“You could mark me, too, if you want,” Jarek suggested, but there was unusual hesitancy in his voice.

 

About the author:

Katerina Ross lives in Russia and works as a journalist. There are no M/M romance publishers in her country, so she writes hot and kinky M/M stories in English.

 

Author Web Links:

Facebook / Blog / Website

 
 

Can’t Get Enough by Harley Wylde

Congratulations to Harley Wylde on your new release!


 
 

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Publisher: JCS Books
Cover Artist: Jessica Smith
Genres/Themes: Rockstar, New Adult, Erotic

 

JACE

When Sinful Seduction made it big, my life changed, and not always in awesome ways. The groupies were great at first, until one decided to fake a pregnancy and claim the kid was mine. My bandmates had my back, and while the woman backed down fast when I demanded a paternity test, it still shook me. I knew it was time for another change, one where I kept my pants zipped. And then I saw her across the bar… the goddess with golden waves, and her sexy little librarian outfit. I knew she was different, and I wanted to make her mine. Should have known better than to get drunk in Vegas. You know how they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. But maybe this time my mistake will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

 

HONEY

I dumped my cheating fiancée, hopped a plane to Vegas, and hit the latest writer’s convention. On what should have been my wedding day, I was throwing back drinks like they were fruit punch. To be fair, they probably had fruit punch in them. When I woke up the next morning with a hard body pressed to mine, and a silver band on a very important finger, I thought I’d screwed up more than ever before. Imagine my surprise when the wannabe rocker I married turned out to be even more famous than me — and wait for it — he wanted to stay married! Even with a battered heart, I still believed in happily-ever-after, but what could a rock star and a romance author have in common?

Chemistry… Intense, curl your toes, melt your panties chemistry. Relationships have been based on worse, right?

 

*WARNING: If you don’t like foul-mouthed bad boys, lots of hot sex, and an accidental marriage, then you should probably skip this book.

 

Available at Bookstrand, Amazon, B&N, Kobo, and iTunes

 

Excerpt

(c) 2018, Harley Wylde
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

JACE

I stared into the crowd, their faces and writhing bodies a blur under the multi-hued lights. Sweat rolled down my temples and my spine as the lyrics poured out of me, more out of habit than passion. Fierce Seduction had been at the top of the charts for the past year as we’d toured the country. My fingers flew over the strings of my guitar, the riffs to the songs coming as easy as the women screaming my name. I couldn’t look at them without seeing her face, the stupid cunt who thought she was going to catch herself a one-way ticket to stardom.

It had been the week from hell. A groupie I’d fucked nearly a damn year ago contacted my manager, threatening to go public if I didn’t pay her a million dollars to keep quiet. She claimed the baby she’d had two weeks before was my son, but I knew better. I was super fucking cautious when it came to fucking the whores who threw themselves at me. I not only wore a condom, but I usually pulled out too. No way in hell I was getting trapped by some gold-digging bitch.

Fuck. Would this concert never end? We were playing Vegas, and the venue was sold out. It was our last show before heading home on Monday. The band had agreed we’d play Friday night, then fuck around for two days on the strip before flying back to L.A. Best fucking idea ever. I wasn’t big into gambling, but the bar at the Bellagio was calling my name. I was certain they had several bottles of vodka with my name on them. I just hadn’t decided if I was celebrating the fact that the kid wasn’t mine or trying to drown myself over the fuckery that was my life. When you’d fucked enough women that they all blurred together, and your reputation was so tattered those same women thought they could blackmail you, then maybe it was time to get off the merry-go-round.

The last few bars of the song played out, our final for this show, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell off the stage. The fans screamed and catcalled, all of them wanting a piece of us. It had been a thrill a minute when the stardom had first hit. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been, or that we were finally riding the top of the charts. There was this huge rush when we took the stage, or when some hot college girl tossed her panties at me, or better yet, informed me she wasn’t wearing any. I’d definitely earned my reputation as a panty dropper. I’d been proud as hell of the way women fawned all over me, until that wake-up call last week. Nothing can kill your buzz quicker than some chick claiming she got knocked up with your kid, some faceless stranger you fucked and forgot. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever learned her name before bending her over.

Backstage, I snagged a bottle of water and guzzled the entire damn thing. Tossing it into the trash, I braced myself for what came next. The adoring fans who had backstage passes. A VIP room had been set up for the occasion, and I knew those women only wanted one thing. To lay claim to one of us for the night, hell, even for an hour.

“You in a hurry to get your dick wet?” Simon asked with a leer. “A room full of free pussy, and it’s all ours for the taking.”

“I’m signing some autographs then I’m getting the fuck out of here,” I said as I stormed down the hallways toward a fate worse than death.

“Since when do you turn away free pussy?”

“Since Rochelle.” I’d tried not to utter that cunt’s name, but it was ingrained in my memory ever since I’d gotten the letter from her attorney.

Simon winced. “That was some rotten luck, but it all worked out. You demanded that paternity test and proved her to be the fucking liar that she is. You’re not going to let one woman fuck with your head like that, are you?”

I shrugged and pushed through the doors to the VIP room. The squeals and shrieks assaulted my ears as about six pairs of hands reached for me. Revulsion rolled through me as I looked at their too-heavy makeup and skin tight clothes. Why had I ever been attracted to women like these? They were desperate and didn’t care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Me.

Signing whatever they thrust my way—paper, water bottles, boobs—I finally made my way through the crowd and out the doors on the opposite side. When I rushed outside of the venue, I ignored the screaming fans, trusting that security would keep them off my back while I disappeared into the night. I took several detours, making sure I wasn’t followed, and finally arrived at the Bellagio. I’d stayed here before when I wasn’t touring with the band, and as I stepped inside, it felt like the building was welcoming me back. The place was packed, but I managed to find a spot at the end of the bar. Hopefully out of sight of everyone but the bartender.

I motioned for him to come over and ordered six shots of vodka. They burned on the way down as I slammed one after another. It would take a hell of a lot more to get me shitfaced, but it was a decent start. The next hour blurred as I downed everything from vodka to whiskey to Jagermeister. I felt warm, and loose, and completely blissed out by the time I noticed her.

My eyes took in the neat updo and the prim glasses perched on her nose. The way she sipped at the fruity drink in front of her made me think this wasn’t her usual scene. The dress she had on was sexy yet sedate. Fuck if she didn’t make me burn hotter than the god damn sun. Her lips, a succulent berry color, fit around the straw of her red drink, and I watched as her gaze flitted around the room. The jackass next to her was so fucking drunk he nearly knocked her off the barstool twice, earning the creep a glare that would have made a cross nun proud. I half expected her to whip out a ruler and rap his knuckles with it.

Whoever this angel was, I knew I wanted to find out more about her, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to do that sitting way over here. I shouldered my way through the crowd and shoved the drunk off his stool before claiming it for myself. She blinked up at me in surprise, the blue depths of her eyes pulling me in. The angel licked her lips as she leaned a little closer.

Holy Hell.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a slight slur to her words. Just how many of those drinks had she had?

“I won’t knock you off your stool, but I can’t promise I won’t sweep you off your feet.”

What. The. Fuck. Did that shit really just come out of my mouth?

She giggled, and her cheeks flushed pink. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She had this sexy librarian vibe going and my fingers itched to get her out of that dress. Was she wearing plain cotton underneath or something lacy and hot as fuck? I’d never chased a woman before, but this little beauty was enough to knock me to my knees. Yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of…

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Honey.”

My eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Honeysuckle. My mother was a hippy.”

Oh yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of Honey.

“Jace,” I said, holding out my hand.

 

About Harley

International Bestselling Author.
When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

 

Visit Harley on her website, or you can follow her on BookBub or Amazon!

Snowflake Wine by Elodie Parkes

Congratulations to Elodie Parkes on your new Christmas release!


 

Thank you for inviting me to your blog with new release, MM romance, Snowflake Wine.

The story is contemporary gay romance with an edge of fantasy, especially written as a sweet but sexy Christmas treat.

Jamie Snow and Nathan Bloom, my characters are as usual, dear to me.

Jamie has battled all his life with his strange, fantastic gift. His is the character that brings the element of fantasy to the story. The inspiration behind the creation of this character came, weirdly enough, in the summer, when I visited a ruined abbey. In the grounds were flowering shrubs that I’d never encountered before. From a distance, the flowers looked like frost, and as I drew close, into my mind came the idea of Jamie, a sprite who loves cold, ice, frost, and to comfort himself in the warm weather, he decorated the shrubs with frost flowers.

Nathan Bloom is the perfect partner for Jamie—gorgeous, calm, loving and open. He’s looking for love. He’s onto Jamie’s gifts long before he lets Jamie know it. This is a love story—romantic, sexy, hopeful.

 

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Hunky Nathan Bloom works late for the company putting up the town Christmas lights and decorations.

Gorgeous, enigmatic, Jamie Snow works late forecasting the weather from his desk in the meteorology office.

Nathan sighs over the prospect of a holiday season with no one to love.

Jamie wonders if he’ll ever find a man to love who will accept his mysterious origins and talents.

One cold night, as Nathan finishes hoisting the wreath lights up the building where Jamie works, they meet.

The brilliant festive lights aren’t the only things to sparkle as the two men connect on a deep level.

Be delighted by a delicious, contemporary, gay romance with an edge of fantasy this season.

Sometimes being different is awesome.

 
 

Buy the book:

http://mybook.to/SnowflakeWine

 
 

Read a teaser:

Jamie Snow sat alongside Nathan. He glanced across at the man who stirred his frosty heart. He’s so attractive. Jamie hadn’t loved in a long time. He felt more than ready for it—longed for it on lonely nights. He wasn’t about to give up on the chance that this man might want a lover, that he was gay wasn’t in question. No straight guy looked the way he had at another man.

“My name’s Jamie, Jamie Snow.” He softened his voice as he spoke. The man beside him inspired tenderness and he felt a little prick of guilt. Using the weather to flirt with him had been inspired but maybe a little naughty.

Nathan drove the truck into a wide car lot that Jamie hadn’t known existed behind the furniture store on the end of the main street. “Here we are. The store allows us to leave the bigger rigs here every year. Jamie Snow—that’s an interesting name for a meteorologist—mine’s Nathan Bloom.”

Jamie’s smile infused his tone. “Yes. People tease me sometimes at work, they’ll know we’ve forecast it and as I walk by they’ll say, ‘here comes the snow,’ but I don’t mind. I like this name.”

“You’ve had others?” Nathan asked with a laugh.

Jamie didn’t want to reply. He waited. I won’t be lying to this lovely guy if I don’t answer. 

Nathan turned off the truck engine and twisted to talk to Jamie. “It’s a cool name. Where do you live?”

It appeared he’d forgotten his question.

Happiness trickled into Jamie’s soul that the attractive man beside him liked his name, and used the word, cool. Eagerly, Jamie told Nathan his address on the outskirts of the town.

Nathan grinned, his eyes reflecting Jamie’s emotion. “I know it well. I live a couple of streets south from there.”

 
Copyright Elodie Parkes, 2018, Encompass Ink

 
 

About Elodie:

I’m a writer who is in love with happy endings, currently based in southern UK. I write for Evernight Publishing, Siren, Hot Ink Press, Encompass Ink, and eXtasy Books.

I love music, art, flowers, trees, the ocean. I work with antiques by day and words by night. Like a vampire, darkness is my friend, that’s when the silence is only broken by an occasional hoot of owls in the woodlands opposite my home, and I write.

Find Elodie online:

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Capone (Fallen Gliders MC 4) by Lynn Burke

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!


 

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Capone

Fallen Gliders 4

By Lynn Burke

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Cover Art: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

Release Date: December 20, 2018

#MCRomance #Erotic #Series #HEA

 

BLURB

Being called a pussy and pansy-ass his entire life led Jeremiah “Capone” Caldwell to join the Fallen Gliders, a motorcycle gang known for its rough ways, hard partying, and womanizing. Not that he needed help with the last. His charming smile and baby blues make it easy to get into the panties of whatever woman he sets his eyes on.

Except for Helina Bodnar.

The sexy siren is a lawyer, an independent spirit who refuses to bow to someone like the narcissistic assholes from her childhood. Jaded, she judges Capone’s character by the “67” inked on his neck, and although her body wants to let loose with the attraction sizzling between them, she knows he’s no good for her. Giving into lust proves easier than denying sexual gratification, however, leaving one bitter and the other brokenhearted.

When a rat spills Glider secrets to the police, Capone knows there is only one woman who might be able to get them off the hook. Will he be the real man Helina longs for, the one he truly is inside, or will the man he portrays to the world lose her forever?

 

PURCHASE LINKS:

books2read / Amazon.com / Amazon.ukBarnes & Noble / Kobo / Smashwords

 

ADULT EXCERPT:

She unlocked the door of an office, but I didn’t pay attention beyond anything but getting her alone, somewhere I could give her what I’d denied her before she’d passed out in my arms the weekend before. Through a reception area that smelled like new furniture, through an inner office door, and Helina tossed her purse aside. She turned, but I stepped close, spun her around again, pulling her back against my chest.

I bent enough to slide my hand up beneath her skirt, my face buried in her neck.

No fucking panties.

I groaned in her ear while her pussy coated my hand with wetness as I cupped her. “Christ…”

“You had better deliver,” she said, pulling away.

The dimness of the office barely allowed me to see two large windows with heavy wooden blinds—closed to outside foot traffic—and a very large desk, half-covered with papers and boxes.

Helina hopped onto the edge and leaned back.

I didn’t need a verbal invitation, but dropped to my knees and lifted hers, placing her high heels on the edge of the desk. Her scent swarmed over me, and I leaned in for a deep breath.

“So fucking sweet.”

The first slow lick from her ass to her clit had her cursing. The second, she grabbed at my hair, nails digging into my scalp. “Holy shit.” She gasped as I latched my teeth onto her clit and nibbled. “Oh…”

Smiling, I slid lower again, licking every crease, every indent of her body, lapping up the arousal slipping from her swollen pussy lips. Puffy and quivering, she was slickened enough two of my fingers slid into her tight sheath with ease. I curled my fingers and gently rubbed, finding the roughened spot that lifted her back off the desk.

“God, yes, right there.” She moaned and lifted her hips higher.

“You like my fingers in you, darlin’?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I pumped in and out a few times, soaking up the whimpers panting past her lips. She complained when I replaced my fingers with my mouth, but uttered another lust-laced curse as I shoved my tongue inside of her body.

“Oh, fuck. Don’t stop!”

Lazily, I meandered up through her folds again until my lips brushed over her clit.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” she said, holding my head tight to her.

Only too happy to oblige, I did as told, pressing in deep and rubbing that elusive spot.

“God.” A few curses spilled from her lips as I thrust and rubbed, my teeth nibbling away at the swollen nub, my nose buried in the trimmed hair atop her pubis. Tangy, soft, and sweet, her pussy was better than any candy or liquor.

“I’m going to come.” She moaned the words, her hips rocking up with every thrust of my fingers, her thighs tightening against my ears. Holding me still as if she could stop me from denying her again.

As fucking if.

Helina gasped once … twice, and her back arched off the desk. With a whining cry, she came, her pussy grasping at my fingers in pulsing waves, cum drenching my knuckles. “Don’t. Stop.” She swallowed between the words, a half-gasped, half-moaned intake of air on its heels as I pulled her clit taunt with my teeth. A flick of my tongue over the hardened flesh sent another spasm through her body. “Fuck!”

Cum gushed from her pussy, sliding down my fingers to coat my knuckles and drip to the floor.

I slid my tongue up atop her clit a few more times, coaxing every last whimper from her lips. Her body released my fingers with a wet, sucking sound, and I licked both clean, inhaling until my lungs hurt. A kiss on the inside of each thigh, and I stood, my straining dick pressed between her lax thighs.

Helina sighed, and I cursed the darkness of the office. I wanted to see her face, her eyes. See the satisfaction, the bliss of a sated woman.

I placed my hands on her knees and slid them along the insides of her thighs, pressing between her skin and my jeans to rub my thumbs along my hard length. “You taste even better than I remembered.”

“And that was better than I expected.”

Grinning, I moved back, but she grasped my wrist before I could step away.

“You’re not done yet.”

My brow shot up at her tone, but fuck if her bossiness didn’t twitch my already pain-hardened cock. “That a fact?”

“Mmm.” She sat and grabbed hold of me through my jeans, her grip bringing more pre-cum to my dick’s throbbing head. “There’s no way in hell you didn’t stash a few condoms in your jeans somewhere.”

“I might have one or two.”

Helina released me and sat back, propped up on her elbows. “Get one out. I want your cock in me.”

I bit back my brain’s “yes, ma’am” and offered a cocky grin even though she wouldn’t be able to see me clearly. “Ask nicely,” I said instead, fighting at the discomfort of the alpha male skin I’d been trying to live in for over five years.

I couldn’t see her glare, but sure as fuck could feel it singeing my face. “Sheathe that hard cock and fuck me.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

 

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

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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/

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

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

 

Destiny Happened by London Saint James

Congratulations to London Saint James on your new release!


 

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Desi

Of course, I noticed Mr. Shirtless. With a bod like his, who wouldn’t? But his hot-factor didn’t matter. What did? My asshat ex and the need to make him jealous. So, I strolled up to the panty-melting stranger as though I knew him and laid one on him, hoping said asshat would see I’d moved on just fine without him. Only, he never saw me kissing another man.

  

Kash

I spotted her—honey-blonde hair gleaming in the sun as she came my way. I’d flirt. Smile. Maybe get her number. I sure the hell didn’t expect her to toss her arms around my neck, mashing her body against mine, and kiss the ever-loving shit out of me. Then, she stopped. Stepped back. Blushed. Whispered “Sorry” and blended into the crowd. I never got her name that day. Or her number. However, fate had other plans and Destiny happened…again.

 
 

Buy links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07L571F53/

Books2Read: https://www.books2read.com/u/mKKj55

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/911177

 
 

Enjoy an excerpt:

Kash

Pops quickly flipped a line of sizzling sausages with his heavy-duty tongs as I carried an oversized cooler past him. “Those better be more brats for the grill since these babies are sellin’ out fast.”

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, old man,” I said, sliding the container next to the boxes I’d placed under the canopy a few minutes earlier.

He bobbed his head. “Know it.”

There was affection and perhaps a little pride in my papaw’s tone.

“I’ve got another couple of coolers to bring over, so we should have enough brats to get us through the rest of the day.”

While having a food booth at Oktoberfest was an annual money-raising activity, allowing us to give a nice sum to a local charity—as well as excellent advertisement for Caldwell Trucking and Repair—hauling stuff to and from our venue and fighting the traffic and crowds wasn’t my favorite thing.

Glancing around I asked, “Where’s Joe?”

“He called a little while ago. He should be here any minute now.”

“You actually answered your cell phone? I’m impressed.”

Pops flipped another bratwurst. “Don’t give me shit, boy.”

“Just happy to see you giving in.” I chuckled. “It’s about time you moved out of the stone age.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “I miss the good old days when a person wasn’t reachable twenty-four-seven. When my ass isn’t planted in my office chair, then I’m out. No one gets the concept of being away and unavailable anymore. I don’t need to be interrupted all the time.”

I couldn’t help but grin at his usual rage against the machine. Everyone knew if Pops was out of the trucking office, odds were good, speaking to him probably wasn’t happening.

“How about Cray?” I asked.

“Haven’t heard from him.”

“That asshole better not pull another no show. It’s his turn to do clean up.” With a shoulder lift, I swiped sweat from my face onto my damp, gray t-shirt.

I’d much rather work fifteen-hour days at the shop—which, let’s be honest, I did often so I could catch up on the paperwork end—than to deal with the daily vendor set up and nightly clean up.

“You know your brother, Kash.”

Shit… I’d be doing my younger brother’s job later because Crayten would do what he always did—leave me high and dry.

“Yeah, Pops, I do.”

We were only two days into this four-day event, and I wasn’t happy. Adding to my piss poor mood was the damn heat. It might have been October, but it was still hot as hell and even hotter standing behind our commercial-sized stainless steel grill where I would eventually be to give Pops a break. But come on. Four days of organized chaos and three-hundred-thousand festival goers could drive a man to drink. Although, on a positive note, I didn’t have far to go if I wanted to tie one on. The entrance to the beer garden was only a few feet away.

“Hey.” Joe strolled up, man bun in place—hipstered out in his skinny pants, a blue shirt with red suspenders, and a big goofy smile on his bearded face. “Did you catch those bar wenches?”

We did our standard fist bump greeting. “I’ve been too busy hauling shit to notice anyone.”

“Joe”—Pops motioned with his tongs—“I’ll never understand why you want to do that crap to your poor ears.”

That was Pops for you. His grousing way of greeting one of our best mechanics while at the same time giving the guy crap about the shiny black plugs protruding through his lobes.

Joe tugged on his right ear good-naturedly. “All the ladies love my accoutrements.”

“Accoutrements is it?” My papaw snorted. “Fancy.”

“Pops, stop busting Joe’s balls,” I said.

“All right, all right,” he rasped. “Glad you’re here, J.”

“Thanks, Mr. Caldwell. I’m happy to help,” Joe said—humor in his tone. He glanced back at me. “Still have stuff in your truck?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

I reached over my shoulder and yanked my shirt up, tugging it up and off my head. “Appreciated. Just give me a sec.”

Balling the cotton material, I swiped the driest section over my sweaty chest and stomach, glad I’d thought to toss a couple of clean t-shirts with our shop logo onto the passenger seat of my pickup that morning. I’d need to put on a fresh one.

A section of the milling crowd parted, and a few whistles snagged my attention. No. The whistles weren’t directed at me. They were for some dark-haired woman who was tossing her hands in the air and shaking her ass.

I’ll admit, she was attractive in a Jennifer Garner kind of way. But the woman next to her, shaking her head and smiling—long, honey-blonde hair gleaming in the sun—was a fucking knockout. A knockout who looked my way. A knockout who stared at me, then glanced past me—eyes narrowing—her porcelain-doll face going serious as she started in my direction.

Maybe it was the way she held herself. The biting of her luscious bottom lip. The gentle sway of those shapely hips. Or maybe it was the hip-hugging jeans and white, scoop-neck, long-sleeved tee showing off all her curves that did it. But she had this combination good-girl-next-door with a hint of wild-in-the-sack vixen vibe going on.

Filthy images of what I could do to muss her up raced through my head at supersonic speed.

I was ready to give her my best smile. Flirt a little. Maybe get her phone number. And I was just about to do all of that when without hesitation she stepped up to me, popped up on her tiptoes, tossed her arms around my neck, pressed those soft, full tits into my hard chest and smashed her plush, pink lips against mine.

All right. I’d had my fair share of women hit on me, and do that shit hard, but a woman literally throwing herself against me and taking charge without so much as a hello? Well, that was a first. When it came to the fairer sex, I took the lead. Regardless, though, I wasn’t stopping her. In fact, screw introductions. I didn’t need any.

Groaning, my right hand grabbed the back of her neck—fingers tangling into the strands of her silky hair. My other hand, still holding my wet shirt, went to her ass and pulled her even tighter into me.

She made a little mew of sound which turned into a throaty moan—her smaller frame melting into me as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tasting an explosion of cool mint and womanly desire.

Yeah. I was full-on frenching someone I didn’t know—deep penetration style—while in front of Pops, Joe, and the entire swell of weekenders at Oktoberfest.

Obviously, I didn’t care.

Both my brain and body agreed. It was time to get down and dirty. This became apparent when all the blood I possessed rushed to my dick, and I ground myself into her pelvis. It didn’t matter where we were. It didn’t matter the woman in my arms was a stranger. Nothing in the world did but the feel, smell, and taste of her.

I needed more. More touching, tasting…just more.

Awareness seeped into my ‘need woman now’ mindset when she let go of me and pressed a palm to my bare shoulder, attempting to push me away.

Definitely get her number became the thought overtaking me as she stopped our rigorous game of tonsil hockey and stepped back, breaking my hold.

Staring down into the most exquisite pair of navy-blue eyes, I was struck mute. That was new as well. I’d never before been tongue-tied over a woman. Not only was I silent, but it also seemed I lost my ability to move.

Part of me understood I probably looked like a complete dumbfuck, standing there in front of our booth with a raging hard-on, shirtless, and goddamned speechless, but I just couldn’t pull my gaze from her.

A rosy hue started at her chest, crawled up her neck, and swept across her cheeks. She placed her fingertips on her kiss-swollen lips, whispered “Sorry,” spun around, and took off like the devil and all his minions were on her trail.

Her leaving so abruptly snapped me out of my stupor, and all my faculties crashed back in place with a jolt to my system. Rebooting me.

“Hey! Wait!” I called out, reaching. “Don’t go. What’s your name?”

All I caught was thin air and a peek of her shoulder as she blended into the crowd.

 
 

About the Author:

LSJ

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.

A complete list of London’s books can be found on her website http://www.londonsaintjames.com. You can also e-mail London with any questions or comments at London@londonsaintjames.com. She loves to hear from her readers.

Would you like to know more? Join her mailing list for her monthly newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on. Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/

  

Follow London at the following locations:

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

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