Little Rainbows by Helena Stone

LITTLE RAINBOWS

Pairing: MF

Genre: BDSM, Contemporary

General Release Date: 20th March 

Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing

ISBN: 9781784304584

Available on Early Download on the 20th Feb

Heat Rating: Burning

Book Length: Super Novel

 

When Jason and Heather first meet they are young and sure they are wrong for each other. As a result they spend a summer admiring each other from a safe distance.

Twenty years later Heather is coming out of mourning, having lost her husband and Dom eighteen months earlier. Jason, now the owner of an exclusive sex resort on the west coast of Ireland, struggles with the loss of his desire to dominate.

Jason’s resort is about to celebrate its first anniversary and party planner Heather has been hired to create the perfect celebration. Their reunion comes as a big surprise to both of them.

Old and familiar attraction, battles with new and conflicting emotions as Jason and Heather work together to organize the ultimate BDSM event. Overcoming the issues between them isn’t the only obstacle Jason and Heather face. In the background lurks a threat both to Heather’s independence and Jason’s livelihood.

 

Excerpt:

Heather. A smile appeared on his face as he remembered the sweet and innocent girl she’d been twenty years ago. The woman who’d just walked into his club couldn’t be mistaken for anything but the grown-up version of that girl, although he’d be hard pressed to call her innocent now. She still had those honey coloured curls tumbling around her head in wild abandon. Her big, almond-shaped eyes had stared into his, filled with a combination of wonder, depth and sadness. Jason shook his head, he had to be imagining things. He didn’t know—had never known—her well enough to recognise those feelings.

She’d certainly grown into her body since he’d last seen her. And she definitely knew how to fill a pair of jeans. Just one look at her arse in those trousers…well, the stirring had been a surprise after all those months without the sensation.

Restless, he got up and stalked up and down the balcony.

He had to stop these thoughts. He was supposed to work with Heather, not fantasise about her. He was a grown man, an experienced Dom, not some drooling teenager getting off on mentally undressing her. Still, what were the chances of meeting her again like this? Surely, such coincidences didn’t happen in real life? His past had just walked into his present and was scheduled to work with him this fortnight. Two weeks during which he could get to know her again, provided he could convince her to stay. As it stood, the plan was for her to be here for a few days and then return before the event started. If he played his hand right though…

No.

He raised his head to the sun, hoping the warmth would sooth his fevered thoughts. What was wrong with him? Just because he hadn’t seen the woman in twenty years didn’t mean he had to lose his mind over her. He might once have said that if he’d ever… He wasn’t going to pursue that line of thought either. For fuck’s sake, she’d lost her husband and partner, who had probably been her Dom as well, not too long ago. Even if she didn’t look like the typical grieving widow, he had no doubt he’d seen pain in her eyes. He had far more pressing problems to deal with right now than a sudden infatuation with a memory. Like how he’d get through that weekend without exposing himself as the fraud he’d turned into. Or how he’d ever find his way back to what had been such an important part of his life for so long.

Even if Heather hadn’t been recently widowed, seducing her would have been a bad idea. There were a few exceptions, but in general, fucking somebody you had to work with only led to unnecessary complications. He had a party to organise, a business to sustain. He needed to keep his eyes on the ball and off his balls, and Heather’s arse, and her beautiful green eyes. He had to stop his mind from creating these images unless he wanted to set himself up for a one-way journey into endless amounts of pain.

 

Buy links:

Totally Bound | Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Author info:

Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.

Helena Stone can be found in the following places:

Twitter | Facebook | Website | Pinterest | Goodreads

Email: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com

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Hong Kong Heat by Raven McAllan

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Hong Kong Heat by Raven McAllan

Erotic Romance, Contemporary

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Debra Scotburn never thought of herself as a cougar, until she fell in lust at first sight with a much younger man.

 

Daniel Van Meister, a trouble-shooter for the Simply Five Star Hotel chain doesn’t do commitment, until the older, curvy, vivacious brunette robs him off his ability to control a certain body part.

 

Unable to keep their hands off each other, they embark on a passion-filled holiday fling.

 

Surely that is all it can ever be? Daniel’s work takes him all around the world at a moment’s notice, and Debra is on the last leg of her middle-aged-crisis induced gap year.

 

When misunderstandings tear them apart, can they both admit their love and find the trust needed to make this more than just a fling?

 

Available for early download via Totally Bound

https://www.totallybound.com/hong-kong-heat

Out on general release on eBook and Print: March 27th

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In one swift movement the lady pushed off the side, kissed him hard on the lips and turned to swim away. He was too fast for her. Braam held her by the shoulders, tread water and kissed her back.

She groaned deep into his mouth and let her tongue swirl with his. Her body floated next to his and her breasts teased his chest. The thin lace that covered her was no barrier to hide how her nipples stood out. Braam slid one leg between hers and moved one hand to hold her ass and push her tight against him.

She wriggled and ground her pussy on his cock. Yet again, the few scraps of lace she wore were negligible. Even so it took immense control not to rip them away and have nothing between them. Instead he held her close, let her rub herself on him and savoured the moment. Braam swam them backwards a few feet until he could rest on a ledge a foot or so underwater and sit his lady on his knees with her legs either side and her pussy open to his cock. It was teasing, tantalising and downright enjoyable. Judging by the shivers and mewls she made as he nibbled her ear and scattered kisses over her face and mouth, she agreed. Her hands played with his nipples.

Until his cock gave notice that a few more seconds’ play and they’d need to clean the pool out. He was so close to coming it hurt.

Braam pulled back and she moaned in protest.

“Honey, I’m so close to coming it’s painful. We need to get out and find somewhere more suitable.” He towed her to the roman steps at one end of the pool and glanced around the area. Not even a sunbed had been left out.

His lady looked dazed and her eyes were misty.

“Eh?”

“We can’t come in the pool. Well, I can’t. We need to… Holy hell and fuck.”

She sat up, half out of the water, and rubbed her face. “That sounds rude and hold on, we need to fuck? Who says?”

“Well, you didn’t say we didn’t a few minutes ago,” Braam said. “But we need condoms. I don’t suppose you have one with you?”

“Con… Argh, shit and fuck. No, strangely I don’t. They’re not something I feel I need when I go for a walk at midnight.” She sounded horrified. “Even if it does include an illicit swim. You?”

He shook his head. “Sadly no. I mean where would I carry it?

She got out of the pool and looked around her. “Apart from that, I don’t make a habit of screwing with strangers, even with a condom. Where’s a towel? Blame it on the moon, oh, I don’t know, temporary insanity or jet lag or something. Pure fucking stupidity. Look, if you try anything, I’ve got a black belt in karate. So, towels?”

“Locked away. Along with sunbeds, robes and all things needed to fuck.” He paused. “Or dry off.”

She shut her eyes and sighed. “Figures. Oh, Lord, what have I done?”

“Nothing yet, and in the future? Up to you, but let me say, I seem to have been inflicted by the same bout of insanity if that’s any consolation.”

“It isn’t. I guess I’ll have to do the walk of shame in a dress sticking to my wet body.”

“Or we could make love and dry off that way?” Braam suggested. He could have bitten his tongue out. Do I have a death wish? When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

“Or not. Sorry. But I don’t even know your name. Isn’t it at least polite to be introduced or something?”

She shivered and Braam stood up and left the pool to grab his shirt.

“Here, use this to dry off.” He handed her the shirt and walked to the other side of the pool where his jacket and trousers were. “My name is Abraham,” he said as he used his jacket to soak up the bulk of the moisture on him. It looked like even the dry cleaners wouldn’t save it. “Braam to my friends.”

There was silence from the other side of the pool.

“And you?”

His answer was to hear the faint noise of the lift descending.

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I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

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