Monday, January 30, 2017

A Harmless Little Plan by Meli Raine- It's Her Turn To Help Him #RomanticSuspense #Contemporary



Blurb:

Turns out there was a second video from that awful night four years ago. Mine wasn’t the only tape.

Too bad mine wasn’t the worst.

Drew can’t protect me no matter how hard he tries, but the roles are flipped now. I have to help him, but I’m not wired that way. Not anymore. That one night changed me more than anyone knows.

More than anyone could predict.

Three men think they’re above the law. They’re right.

But I’m willing to go beneath the law to make sure they never harm anyone else. Their threats don’t scare me.

When you have nothing left to lose because someone took it all away, you create the most dangerous creature imaginable.

Me.

Game over.

* * *


Excerpt

“Okay,” I concede. “You win. Why me? Why are you doing this?” It takes so much control not to cry, or whine. The slight shake in my voice is pretty damn understandable, given the circumstances. Every muscle I have, including my lungs, keeps tightening, as if making them smaller will make me less likely to be hurt.

Not possible.

John shrugs. Shrugs.

“It’s nothing personal.”

I cough, choking on a universe-sized dose of incredulity. Nothing personal? This is nothing personal? A thousand responses flood my mind but I’m not rational, so none of them come out.

“Don’t you have a game or something? I thought baseball players didn’t get days off during the season.”

He pretends his shoulder hurts, rubbing it while pursing his lips in a pretend pout. “Perfectly-timed injury,” he says, adding a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “I have three days with nothing to do.”

He leans in, his hand stroking my jaw. I close my eyes but don’t jerk away.

“I get to do you,” he whispers, his breath filled with moisture, like he’s licking my face although it’s just air.

My ribs cave in on themselves, tensing so hard I’m afraid they’ll crack, my belly clenching.
I can’t let go. Can’t relax. I start to shiver. I can’t control it. My bladder threatens to let go. Suddenly, I’m ten feet away from my body, because really, what else can my caged mind do?
I’m in hell.

People do whatever it takes not to be in hell. We have a biological drive to survive. It goes beyond the body.

Speaking of the body, I remember the microchip. A whimper comes out of my nose. Tears fill the back of my throat, hot and salty, thickening. I nearly gag but control myself, a sob trying to work its way out.

If nothing else, they’ll find my body. Drew’s chip gives me that relief.

Unless they cut my hand off.

The helicopter cuts a sharp right, angling down, and because they didn’t buckle me in, I roll into the door. John thumps against me, his hip digging into my butt. His body is tight and physically radiates heat that makes me nauseated. I can’t stand having him breathing in my hair, his hands on my ribs as the helicopter rights and he pretends to need to touch me to sit up.

Why pretend? I have no power. He can do anything he wants to me right now.

The thought makes the world go wavy, white dots filling my vision.

Oh, no.

---


A Harmless Little Plan is the final in this political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine. This series includes:

A Harmless Little Game
A Harmless Little Ruse


Buy links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fwWLxE

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2fyBsKD

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2fUQWN8

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2faFJag

B& N: http://bit.ly/2faAWW7

iBooks: http://apple.co/2fauvTb

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2fyAnCq

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2fyAIoV



Author Bio:

Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.

Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://meliraine.com/ 

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/beV0gf 

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

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/meliraineauthor 

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


Friday, January 27, 2017

A Different Kind of Cosplay by Lucy Felthouse- He Is Her Superhero- #RomanceNovel #Contemporary


Blurb:

Zachary has a dilemma. His girlfriend, Reese, has a special birthday coming up soon and he has absolutely no clue what to get for her. It doesn’t help that Zach does not share or really understand Reese’s biggest hobby—comic books, superheroes and everything that goes with them. Zach raids Reese’s DVD collection for inspiration, and what he finds there gives him an idea…possibly the best one he’s ever had.

Sure, Reese has fantasized about her favorite superheroes. All those muscles and rakish smiles are to die for. She didn’t think Zach would ever really understand, though. But he proves her wrong in the best way possible.

Note: This book was previously published elsewhere. The title and content remain the same.

*****


Excerpt:

Zachary sighed at the calendar entry in his phone, which was reminding him for the third time about Reese’s upcoming birthday. And it wasn’t just any birthday—she was going to be thirty.
There were perks to dating a doctor—the uniform was pretty hot, for example—but when that doctor had no particular fondness for jewelry, flowers or chocolates, buying her presents was nigh-on impossible. And because of her work schedule, a surprise weekend away was out of the question. He’d long since learned to always keep the receipts.

Most people get their partners something to do with their hobbies or interests. However, Reese was even awkward in that regard. Her main hobby was so complex that Zach didn’t have the first idea what to get her to do with it—Reese was an uber-geek. Films, graphic novels, collectibles, all that jazz.

Obviously he could just ask what she wanted, then go out and get it, but then it wouldn’t be a surprise. And it was too easy—he wanted her to know he’d really made the effort.

Snoozing the calendar reminder once more, Zach threw the phone onto the sofa, then walked over and started rooting through their combined film collection for something to watch after dinner, which was almost ready. Reese was on shift at the hospital until silly o’clock, so he had the house to himself and could watch whatever he liked. An action movie it was, then.

Running his fingers along the spines of the DVDs and Blu-rays, he suddenly paused. The Avengers leaped out at him, for some reason. He’d seen snippets of it before, as Reese watched it pretty frequently. The parts he’d seen hadn’t looked too bad, actually. It was essentially an action film, but with superheroes in it.

He pulled the case off the shelf, an idea beginning to form. Maybe if he watched it beginning to end, he’d see what drew Reese into that world so much, why she was so fascinated by the films, the graphic novels and so on. Even if he didn’t get it, though, maybe it would still give him some inspiration for a gift. He had nothing better to do that evening, in any case, so it was certainly worth a try.

After putting the disc in the player, he headed into the kitchen to see how his dinner was coming along. A meal in front of the television was the order of the day, it seemed.

A few minutes later, he settled onto the sofa with his lasagna and garlic bread, a bottle of beer on the table next to him. Time for some Avengers action.

Within half an hour, he’d ascertained that the film wasn’t just for geeks. In fact it was easy to see why it had such a wide appeal—the cast was supremely attractive, whatever gender you were into, the plot was interesting and the dialogue seriously witty. He’d already developed quite the crush on the Black Widow, and Nick Fury’s right-hand woman had a lovely pert backside.

Trying to put himself in Reese’s shoes, Zach looked at the male characters. Okay, when it came to this film, straight women clearly had more eye-candy than they knew what to do with. He vaguely remembered a bunch of crazy stuff going around on the internet about Loki—even the villain of the piece had sex appeal, for heaven’s sake! So much so that it had spilled over into even Zach’s limited social media presence. He barely used Facebook, and he’d never gotten the hang of Twitter. And yet he knew about the rabid fangirls. That was another score for The Avengers, then—truly mass-market appeal. If only there were mass-market gift-buying options.

Sighing, he tried to empty his mind and concentrate on the film. The more he tried to force an idea to present itself, the less likely it would be to happen. He’d just enjoy the entertainment and keep his fingers crossed that his subconscious provided something useful.

Once he’d made the decision, it wasn’t difficult to get sucked back into the narrative. It was engaging, easygoing and fun. Zach surprised himself by thoroughly enjoying the entire thing. Reese would be pleased—not to mention surprised—when the next film came out at the cinema and he offered to go along with her.

He’d keep his new found admiration quiet for now, though. He didn’t want to arouse her suspicions, although she was bound to know he was planning something for her milestone birthday.

The question remained—what the hell could he do or buy to blow her away?

---

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/cosplay

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2jworqt 

iBooks UK: http://apple.co/2jyuo65 

iBooks US: http://apple.co/2jKcivx 

aSmashwords: http://bit.ly/2j8S2Dd 

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves.

Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.



Thursday, January 19, 2017

Love Through a Lens by Lucy Felthouse- Sparks Fly Between A Camera Woman And An Actor #RomanceNovel #AudioBook

May to December contemporary romance novella, Love Through a Lens by Lucy Felthouse, is now available in audiobook format. Narrated by voice artist Xanthia Bloom, you can now listen to this fun romance tale on the go!




Blurb:

Celine Patterson is a recent graduate eager to begin her career as a camerawoman—with the fashion world and all its glitz and glamour calling to her. Things aren’t that simple, however, and she’s forced to take a job making a documentary in the Peak District countryside with a mid-list British actor.

In spite of her initial disappointment—not only is the job not what she wanted, the pay is appalling, too—Celine warms to the project. The actor she’s working with, Edward Robson, is kind, considerate, funny and a consummate professional. She realizes she can learn a great deal from him, and resolves to do so.

As the days of the shoot pass by, Celine grows increasingly fond of Edward, and that fondness quickly goes beyond the platonic. Convinced her crush is completely one-sided—he’s over three decades her senior, for starters—she tries hard to ignore it, hoping the feelings will go away.

But then something happens to change Celine’s opinion, and flip her world upside-down. How will she react? And can she emerge from this project with both her career and her heart intact?

Audio links:



Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2h0RInY 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2hGGyZH 

Audible UK: http://adbl.co/2ioQSFw 

Audible US: http://adbl.co/2ikFVBJ 

iTunes UK: http://apple.co/2ioSOy5 

iTunes US: http://apple.co/2jIQ2Fo 

eBook available here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/love-through-a-lens/

*****



Review:

“What a lovely small package this novella was. Small but good and fulfilling... it is wrapped up with a bow... I liked the writing style and would read more from this author.”

 4 out of 5, Jo & Isa love books

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes.

Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Sexy Just Got Kinky: Kinks To Make You Think by The Brit Babes #BDSM #EroticaNovels #Kindle




Blurb:

Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage, there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your fancies and heat up cold nights.

Featuring stories by Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse, Marissa Farrar, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee and Tabitha Rayne.

*****

Excerpt from The Anonymous Life by Marissa Farrar

It started with a photograph.

A single, crazy, adrenaline-filled moment of madness.

I’d had enough of being ignored, of being the maid, the chef, the chauffeur to my unappreciative family. I dreamed of the days when men used to drop to their knees before me in the streets. They’d beg to buy me drinks, just to get me to spend a little time in their company, and, if they were lucky, snatch a kiss and take me home to their bed. Now, I was invisible. A mother, a wife, a housekeeper. I longed to be seen as something sexual again, and so I took the photo.

I made sure not to include my face. I didn’t want to be identified. Instead, I held the camera on my phone with one hand and cupped my breasts with the other, squeezing them together so the tops lifted and rounded in globes. My nipples peeped between my fingers, crinkled and hard. The lighting wasn’t perfect, and I had no idea what filters to use, but that didn’t matter.

I posted it online.

It was on one of the popular social media sites, known more for its raunchy posts than some of the others. I’d used the site to watch porno GIFs often enough, but I’d never had the guts to comment or post something of my own.

Until now.

I gave myself an online name—theanonymouslife. All one word.
It was only a single picture, but already my emotions surged up inside me, making me feel alive—a mixture of excitement and guilt, and horniness.

Already, I was addicted.

I stayed on the computer, checking for comments and reblogs. People liked my tits, it seemed. More than my husband, who hadn’t laid a finger on me in forever. There were a couple of negative notes, but I brushed over them in favour of the positive ones. Damn trolls were everywhere.

I don’t know why I got such a thrill from posting my picture online, or why I’d even felt the need to do it at all. Maybe there was anger in me, a resentfulness I couldn’t shift, and posting the photo felt a little bit like revenge. Or rebellion. I resented my husband for plunging me into a life of celibacy that I’d never asked for. I’d always been a sexual person, and still was, but now sex was denied to me. 

My children stole my body away, though they never asked to do that, and I would never hold them responsible. I love my kids. They are the one thing that keeps me walking the straight and narrow when all I want to do is run, screaming, throwing off my clothes and frustrations as I do so. I dream of a future alone, where I can pick and choose men as I please, allow them in my life for a short while, only to continue alone once more. Sometimes now, I feel like I barely have enough time to have a thought to myself without being interrupted. 

I can feel the years slipping away, knowing I’ll never get them back. I’m only in my early thirties—too young to be this dried up person already—and the thought of the rest of my life as a sexless woman terrifies me. I love my husband, I do, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in me anymore. He’s always too tired from a long day at work. I don’t know if he has no interest in sex in general or if it’s just me that no longer excites him. I can’t say I blame him. After seeing the births of two babies, I’m not sure I’d excite me either. But I can’t bring myself to break up our home, can’t stand the thought of the hurt in our children’s eyes if we separated. Plus, he’s a good guy. I like his company, most of the time. We’re just missing that important element.

So, instead of dealing with the real problem at hand, I took the photograph.
It was harmless. I wasn’t hurting anyone. But quickly I discovered one picture was not enough.

*****


Available from:


All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2gJnFBL 






About The Brit Babes:

So who are the Brit Babes? We are eight UK based authors who spend our days writing steamy tales of love and lust. Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind, we aim to please in every literary fantasy department. Our heroes are strong, determined and soul-achingly divine and our heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure are the name of the game, romance and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink. 

With a whole host of awards, bestsellers and accolades between us, we just know you’ll find something to keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Visit the Brit Babes’ home on the web which acts as a library for the hundreds of books published by us and hosts special guests every Monday. You’ll find links there to our FREE anthology too. Tell your friends, spread the word, because one thing you can be sure of, is when the Brit Babes arrive, sexy has arrived! 





Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Grand Slam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse- He's A Master On and Off The Court To Her #RomanceNovel #Sports #BDSM

Grand Slam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse is Just 99c/p! 

To celebrate the Australian Open, the eBook version of BDSM sports romance novel Grand Slam is just 99c/p until the 29th January!

A Raw Talent book.


Blurb:

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.


Buy links:



Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/grandslam 

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2j61A4x 



Smashwords: http://bit.ly/29bspyg 

Remember, the offer ends on the 29th January, so grab yours quick, and be sure to tell all your friends!

Find more sports romances by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse at http://www.rawtalentseries.co.uk 

Sale blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.




Monday, January 16, 2017

Doctor’s Orders by Lucy Felthouse- His Doctor Dom Plans On Giving His Sub A Weekend He'll Never Forget #BDSM #RomanceNovel



Blurb:

Hospital porter Aaron Miller isn’t expecting a very exciting birthday. He and his doctor boyfriend, Blake Colville, are working opposite shifts, leaving Aaron to go home to an empty house and the prospect of another shift the following day. Just as he’s leaving work, however, an unexpected sexy encounter in a supply cupboard leaves him feeling in a much more celebratory mood. And an impending dirty weekend away with Blake just puts the icing on the non-existent cake. But who needs cake when you’re dating a dominant doctor?

Note: Doctor’s Orders has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

*****



Excerpt:

Aaron hummed contentedly as he walked along the white-painted corridor towards the locker room. He was happy in his job as a hospital porter. He might not be saving lives, like his doctor boyfriend, Blake, but he liked to think he was improving them. He made the effort with the patients he transported around—or the ones that were well enough to hold a conversation with him, anyway. He chatted to them, showed an interest, tried to make them laugh, always remained positive, even when things were bleak. That was his way of spreading a little cheer, or helping someone forget their worries, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was a small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless, and it made him feel good.

The corridor stretched on, and Aaron thought for the umpteenth time that it could do with some artwork on the walls—something other than doors to break up the interminable expanse of white paint and grey dado rail. But patients never came to this area of the building—unless they were lost—so there was no need to spend any more money on it than was absolutely necessary. Aaron understood that, but boy did it make for a dull walk to the locker room.

As he continued his journey, he saw that a supply cupboard door on the left hand side of the corridor was ajar. It was nothing unusual—people often propped doors open with their feet if they were just leaning in to grab something, or used something as a door stop if they needed both hands to carry what they’d come to collect and therefore couldn’t open the door again to let themselves out.

Reaching the door, he’d just opened his mouth to call out and ask whoever it was if they needed help, when the gap grew wider. A white-clad arm appeared and the accompanying hand grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him roughly into the cupboard.

“Wha—”

Aaron didn’t even get chance to finish his exclamation, as he’d been slammed against the now-closed cupboard door, and hard, demanding lips were pressed to his. Lips, he realised, as his brain caught up with the turn of events, that belonged to Doctor Blake Colville. Lips that were allowed to kiss his, thank God!

The fresh, spicy scent of Blake’s cologne invaded Aaron’s nostrils, and he relaxed into the kiss, returned it with enthusiasm. Blake’s tongue sought entrance to Aaron’s mouth, and he gave it willingly, moaning as their tongues slipped and tangled together sensuously, and Blake’s firm, lithe body pinned his slightly-more-muscular one against the cool wood of the door. He stifled any further moans that wanted to sneak out, remembering that, hot as the situation was, it was also pretty precarious, and both of them could get into serious trouble if they were caught. Patients may not frequent this area of the building, but the staff sure did.

Reaching out, he gripped the lapels of Blake’s white coat and pulled, so their bodies were crushed together and their kiss grew bruisingly brutal—in a good way.

The move had clearly fanned the flames of Blake’s lust, because he began grinding his crotch against Aaron’s, teasing their already erect cocks and pushing them both rapidly towards the point of no return.

But could there be a point of no return, given where they were? How on earth would they get away with making love—or, in this case, should it be fucking?–in a supply cupboard in the hospital? Granted, it was one of the quieter areas of the building, but bloody hell…

*****



Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/doctorsorders 

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2hH8kFl 



Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2h1lKIo 

--

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. 

Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


Friday, January 13, 2017

The Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set (Books 6-9) by Maggie Marr- Four Sexy Brothers and The Women That Tamed Them- #RomanceNovel #Contemporary #MF

Special price $6.99 (price goes up to $9.99 on 5th January 2017)



Blurb Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set Books 6-9:

Get all four Travati Brothers in one low-priced boxed set. The sexy Travati Brothers Justin, Leo, Anthony, and Devon and the women who tame them are in one boxed set and for a *LIMITED* time the Travati Brother Bad Boy Eligible Billionaire Series is only 6.99!

Read A Forever Love, A Billionaire for Christmas, A Convenient Arrangement and A Forbidden Love. Enjoy each luscious love story of these Bad Boy Travati Brother Billionaires!

*****

Excerpt from A Forever Love (Eligible Billionaires Book Six)

Justin Travati didn’t have a son. In his twenties he’d been as diligent about preventing accidental reproduction as he was with takeovers and acquisitions, and he was damned good about due diligence in deals. Now, years later, children weren’t an option.

Or so he’d thought.

His hard stare pulled away from the Manhattan skyline outside his office window and flicked toward his computer screen. His eyes traveled the words strung together in the e-mail. Impossible. The correspondence had to be a prank, a hoax, a way to extort money from him for whatever ill-conceived plan this person named Max had.

Max. Justin’s father had been named Max. His child? Named Max?

Impossible. Utterly incomprehensible. He pushed the button on his speakerphone. “Liza, get me Roger in security. Tell him I need him now.” Without listening for his assistant’s response, he clicked the Off button. Again, for the fourth time, he read the words sent from someone claiming to be his son with the name Maxwell Hayes. He clicked on the address. MHayes@RockwaterFarms.net.

What the hell was Rockwater Farms? With swift finger strokes across the keyboard, Justin searched. His eyes ate up the results. A picture of rolling hills, an enormous red barn, wheat, livestock, and a restaurant … the best restaurant between Chicago and San Francisco. Which wasn’t saying much. The middle of the country was a wasteland of repressed, unimaginative people. But this place …
He scrolled. Then clicked on the Team button. The chef, Nina Hayes; her father, the founder of Rockwater Farm; and the CEO … A. Hayes.

His heart jackknifed. A roar filled his ears.

Fire-red hair, a halo of untamed curls framing her fair-skinned face and bright green eyes, high-cut cheekbones, and a mouth with lips … those lips.

He remembered those lips.

He remembered that mouth.

He remembered that hair gliding through his fingers.

One night. How old had the boy in the e-mail said he was? He clicked back to the correspondence. Counted the years in his mind … clicked back to the picture of Aubrey. Older now, but no less beautiful. He guessed no less feisty and no less self-righteous than she’d been fifteen years before. A sigh crossed his lips.

Damn.

The impossible was possible, and in his soul he knew …

Justin pressed the button on his speakerphone. “Liza, book me dinner at The Red Barn at Rockwater Farms. Once we have a date then clear my schedule and call the pilots.” His gaze remained locked on Aubrey’s eyes. It would seem there was something interesting in Kansas after all.

*****

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/eligible6to9 

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eligible-billionaires-box/id1167098592?mt=11 

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-6-9-maggie-marr/1124918319?ean=2940156874521 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-6-9 

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Maggie_Marr_Eligible_Billionaires_Box_Set_Books_6?id=_MZJDQAAQBAJ&hl=en 


Author Bio:

Maggie Marr is the author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She writes smart, sexy, women and the men they love. She got her start in Hollywood pushing the mail cart at ICM, but quickly rose through the ranks to become a motion picture literary agent. As well as writing, she maintains a boutique legal practice dedicated to the needs of creatives & entrepreneurs. She is the current President of Los Angeles Romance Authors (LARA) and legal adviser to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA). Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn’t taking care of her clients or writing she can be found reading, chasing kids, or exercising her rescue pup

Social Media:

Website:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/ 

Newsletter:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/about/newsletter 

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/maggiemarrbooks 

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/maggiemarr 

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30741954-a-forbidden-love 





Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set (Books 1-5) by Maggie Marr-Five Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires #RomanceNovels #MF #Contemporary

Special price $6.99 (price goes up to $9.99 on 5th January 2017)


Blurb Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set Books 1-5:

For a *LIMITED* time Get five Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires for one ultra low price! Meet Cole, Tristan, Nick, Ryan, and Trevor. Jet set from South America, to L.A. from the exotic resort of Mesquale to France, with a media mogul, corporate raider, real estate tycoon, resort owner, and restaurant heir.

Each Bad Boy Billionaire is shockingly sexy both in and out of the bedroom. Enjoy all five of the Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires!


*****

Excerpt from Can’t Buy Me Love (Eligible Billionaires Book One)

“Is it always this hard?”

For Cole Jackson only one response answered Meg’s question: Yes. Every conquest was the outcome of a hard-fought battle, every win the results of a decimated other side, every challenge more difficult than the last. Otherwise, what was the point? With ease came softness and with softness a swift defeat.

Cole yanked at the knot of his cobalt blue tie, tired of the daylong stranglehold. On the far side of his office window, night sucked away the last light of day as the sweltering orange sun surrendered to the Pacific. The streaks of pink, orange, and fuchsia that decorated the sky failed to captivate Cole. He could witness such displays of color on any horizon, in any city, on any night—so why waste time with this sunset?

Cole reached for the crystal decanter stationed on the bar in his office. His pour was generous and neat. Amber liquid shimmered in the final rays of the sun. He sipped the bourbon. Heat slid down his throat, but the liquor didn’t scorch him nearly as much as the woman who, after a six-month absence, now stood in his office.

“There are cell phone towers up and down the entire California coastline and the one spot in Los Angeles where I can’t get a signal is your office?”

Meg Parson’s voice was brighter and lighter than the curves of her body would suggest. She shifted her weight and her hip teased forward against her suit skirt. The outline of bone against taut fabric taunted Cole with hints of lace panties. In a careless moment his gaze roamed over her legs, caressed her skirt, and brushed over the outline of her breasts.

Hunger for Meg clutched his belly and twisted hard. Cole turned toward the ocean and the unwatched sunset—away from Meg. Better to feign interest in the blossom of color on the horizon than to indulge his desires to stare at his colleague and former assistant.

“Hello? Hello?” Meg said into the phone.

In the window, Cole caught Meg’s reflection as she flipped her long sable-colored hair over her right shoulder. She tightened her jaw and closed her eyes.

His stomach clenched as Meg’s tongue caressed her pout of a mouth. Cole took another slug of his drink, hopeful that the liquid heat burning down his throat would distract him from his desires.

No. Luck.

He set his jaw in opposition to his craving and pulled his gaze away from Meg’s indelible imprint on the glass. He didn’t need the reflection; her every sinew was seared into his mind but Meg was off-limits.

In the three years she’d worked for him, Meg made herself indispensable, and he had been fool enough to let her become a necessity. She knew everything about him—from the way he took his coffee down to his shoe size. She ran his business affairs seamlessly. He leaned on her. Depended on her. Cole even began to need her and needing anyone was intolerable. To need a person was to appear weak. Need allowed vulnerability to take root. Need was the end of strength. No, to need Meg was completely unacceptable.

“Yes, hi. This is Meg Parson. I have Cole Jackson for Stan Morton,” Meg said.

With the sound of his name on her lips he faced her. This was a business deal, nothing more.

“Of course I’ll hold.” Meg covered the mouthpiece and her blue eyes sparkled with the thrill of the deal. “Why didn’t we use your landline?”

Cole’s heart quickened as Meg’s excitement spilled over to him. Cole sipped his drink and watched Meg over the top of his glass. This time, her proximity, and not the bourbon, seared through him.

“They’re getting Stan,” Meg whispered, still covering the mouthpiece.

Stan Morton owned one of the two things Cole wanted most in the world: TBC Studios.
And the other thing?

Cole’s eyes traced the porcelain curve of Meg’s neck as she twirled a piece of hair between her thumb and pointer finger. Well, the other thing wasn’t for sale, nor was it negotiable. Office dalliances weren’t Cole’s style and neither was a long-term commitment. Meg was the type of woman who required he break both rules, and Cole preferred his relationships exactly as they’d been for the past decade: hot, fast, and disposable.

This deal was Meg’s baby, and once it was consummated Cole would have to promote Meg. If he waited any longer another company would swoop in and grab her. One of his competitors might already be trying.

“How will you celebrate?” Cole rarely asked Meg anything so personal. A dusty pink flush crept over Meg’s ivory-colored cheeks.

Protectiveness surged through Cole.

“I’m thinking Bali.” A smile started in Meg’s eyes and quickly encompassed her whole face as she thought about a luxurious and well-deserved beach vacation.

“Nice choice.”

“And you?”

---

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/eligible1to5 

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eligible-billionaires-box/id1167094956?mt=11 

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-1-5-maggie-marr/1124918311?ean=2940156874484 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-1-5 

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Maggie_Marr_Eligible_Billionaires_Box_Set_Books_1?id=ssZJDQAAQBAJ&hl=en 

---



Author Bio:

Maggie Marr is the author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She writes smart, sexy, women and the men they love. She got her start in Hollywood pushing the mail cart at ICM, but quickly rose through the ranks to become a motion picture literary agent. As well as writing, she maintains a boutique legal practice dedicated to the needs of creatives & entrepreneurs. She is the current President of Los Angeles Romance Authors (LARA) and legal adviser to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA). Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn’t taking care of her clients or writing she can be found reading, chasing kids, or exercising her rescue pup

Social Media:

Website:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/ 

Newsletter:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/about/newsletter 

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/maggiemarrbooks 

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/maggiemarr 

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30741954-a-forbidden-love 


Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Field of Trust by Jacqueline Anne- His Body Gave Her What It Desired #RomanceNovel #Contemporary #Sports





Buccaneers pitcher Tyson Best is captivated by vibrant artist Cece Schmidt, and he is determined to uncover the mystery lurking in her eyes.

Cece knows her one-night rule will never be enough with Tyson. Frustrated with the hold her corrupted family still has over her, Cece can no longer ignore her feelings for Tyson, despite his high-profile career and the life she ran away from. After confessing partial truths about her past, Cece and Tyson begin their secret romance.

Tyson knows they have a strong connection and refuses to let someone special run out on him like his parents did years ago. In order to protect Cece, he seeks the whole truth about her past and in the process unveils crime and terror.

When Cece receives a threat from her uncle, she is desperate to end the fear once and for all—but first, she will have to play a dangerous game.

Will trust and love pull them through?

---

Buy Link:  http://www.bookstrand.com/book/Field-of-Trust

*coming soon to other sites


Story Excerpt

“Damn, that hurt,” she grumbled.

“Cece?” He knew something had happened. The least he could do was help, so Tyson walked back…and immediately halted. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

In the midst of what looked like a junkyard, sat Cece slumped over with her legs sprawled out in front of her. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into some crazy concoction on the top of her head, which oddly enough, closely resembled a pineapple. Although her face showed feelings of loss and frustration, her blue eyes still drew him in. Her body was covered in paint, and her clothes were a complete mess.

His heartbeat picked up a few paces as he swallowed hard. He was seeing her in her element for the very first time. To him, Cece looked flawless.

“Oh God. What are you doing back here?” she grumbled, visibly annoyed and embarrassed.
He stepped over the mess and noticed an old wooden ladder on its side, broken in two places.

“Lending a hand.” He outstretched his and she reluctantly took it. He pulled her up, accidently covering his hand with paint.

“Thanks. Sorry about the paint. I’ll get you some towels.”

Tyson shrugged it off. He didn’t care about the paint. “I actually stopped by to shop. The helping part was needed.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. She had no reason to be embarrassed. Accidents happened. “Are you okay?”

Cece looked down at her body. “I think so. I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get all the paint off.”

“The color looks good on you.” Tyson was really hoping he could lighten her mood.

“Ugh. This is so humiliating.” Cece took a few steps and hissed. “Okay, damage to the leg for sure.”

“Here, let me help you.” Tyson swooped her up into his arms.

“Tyson! No! Now you have paint all over you,” she scolded.

“I don’t care. They’re just clothes, Cece. Where’s the bathroom?” He couldn’t care less about his clothes. Now, having Cece in his arms? That was another story.

Cece pointed to a small corridor. Tyson walked sideways with her cradled in his arms, so they could both fit down the narrow hall.

Once he reached the tiny bathroom, he set her on her feet. She hobbled a step and sat on the closed toilet. He grabbed some paper towels and handed them to her. He watched her closely as she cleaned the paint off her skin.

She looked up at him and caught him staring. He cleared his throat and glanced up at the ceiling, slightly embarrassed she noticed. He couldn’t help it, though. Now that she had been in his arms, he wanted to know more of how her skin felt and how she tasted, preferably without the paint.

“You don’t have to stay back here with me. Go ahead and shop. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I don’t mind, Cece. I want to check out your leg once you get the paint off.”

She rubbed over an area of her leg and flinched.

Tyson grabbed some more paper towels and wet them. “Here, let me,” he insisted, kneeling in front of her. He cautiously began wiping away the paint.

* * * *

Cece was thoroughly humiliated and thankful the red paint was covering her flushed skin. She was watching how gentle Tyson was being with her. The star pitcher was tall, strong, and confident. And here he was taking care of her, a feeling she never experienced before. She suddenly felt claustrophobic in the small space and took a few calming breaths.

“Ah, there we go. You have one nasty bruise which is already appearing. No bleeding, or at least I don’t think so. Hard to tell with the red paint.”

“Crimson,” she corrected. Thinking about art and colors usually relaxed her—up until she fell off that rickety ancient ladder. She was pissed at herself for daydreaming too long about the piece she was working on.

He grazed over her leg, causing goosebumps to break out over her body which seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Crimson,” he repeated, looking at her with a soft smile. “I think you are going to live.”

“Too bad I can’t say the same for the artwork I fell on.” She stood and winced, pain radiating through her leg. Not a good sign.

“Still hurts?”

She nodded, bracing herself on the bathroom sink.

“I’ll take you home.”

After bickering with him over the fact she could take care of herself, in pain or not, she let out a frustrating groan and realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She was certain Tyson knew she would be okay, but why push it when he was offering to help. He was too kind. He was quite charming as well, even though she didn’t want to admit it.

It was a lethal combination.


Adult Excerpt

Her admission shattered him in the most amazing way. He nodded at first, trying to get the blood to flow through his body properly, rather than straight south. He wanted to carefully choose his next words to reassure her and to prove she was so goddamn special to him.

“If there is anything I ever do that you don’t like, all you have to do is tell me to stop. I will stop immediately with no questions asked. We can always discuss anything before we try it. If you are uncomfortable, we can wait or not do it at all. Understand?”

“Yes,” she stated, looking at him straight on. “But, I am ready and willing.”

“Cece, baby.” He smoothed his dark hand over her cheek. “You deserve to be cherished like the finest treasures.”

He watched as her pupils dilated, loving the way her body gave him feedback as to what she enjoyed. She may have been used to one-night stands prior to him, but Tyson was going to treat her to a whole other world—a world she deserved. A world he wanted to give her.

“Right here on this dryer…I’m going to feast on that beautiful pussy of yours until you come on my face. Then I am going to bend you over and sink my cock so deep inside you that your screams of erotic pleasure will be echoing off these walls.”

Cece bit her lip. Tyson knew by looking at her it wasn’t because she was nervous. No. She was downright turned on and anxious to get started.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he slid his hands up her legs, under her skirt. He felt the lace of her panties and looped his thumbs onto the sides.

“Lift up, gorgeous.”

She leaned back and lifted her hips. He pulled at her thong and slowly dragged them down her legs. His body following them. He unbuckled her left sandal and pressed soft kisses on her foot. He repeated the same amorous deed with her other foot. He explored her legs with his tongue and lips, ending on the tops of her upper thighs.

“Spread for me.”

She did. He placed her feet up on the dryer. Her skirt scrunched around her waist, completely exposing her beautiful, glistening pussy to him. Tyson licked his lips while Cece closely watched him.

“So beautiful, Cece. I love how you are always wet for me.” He ran a finger along her wet folds.
“Only for you,” she whimpered.

He brought his wet finger up to her mouth. “Taste yourself, baby.”

She opened her mouth for him, and he stuck his finger in just a little. Her tongue darted out to lick him. He couldn’t resist sharing her sweet taste. Tyson licked her along with his finger, enjoying the experience with her.

“So good.”

He lifted her shirt over her head and removed her bra. Her nipples already in hard peaks. He twirled his tongue around one, and then the other. A stimulating moan vibrated off her lips. He shifted his mouth  lower and lower. He breathed in her scent, enjoying how much more intoxicating it was now.

“I want you to let it all go, Cece. Give me everything.”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

He dipped his head and licked the entire length of her pussy. He fucking loved the way she tasted. He pushed his tongue inside her, drinking her up. Her lips swelling for him, already eager for a release. He wanted to hold her off just a bit longer. He wanted to watch her completely unravel for him.

“Tyson,” she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He carefully removed her hands from his body and placed them on her breasts, massaging them together before he released his hands.

“Keep them there,” he gently demanded.

Watching Cece play with her tits and having her legs wide open for him was fucking incredible. He gave her clit a suck and heard her sharp intake of breath. Not yet, he thought and went back to fucking her with his tongue. Every once in a while he glanced up at her. Her breaths quickened as she got lost in his touch. The more he licked her, the more eager she was with her tits. Stunning. He pushed three of his fingers deep inside her and moved his tongue around her clit.

“Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted.

He could feel her clamping down on him and lightly bit her clit.

“Holy fuck,” she cried out.

Her legs shuddered. She squeezed her nipples tightly. Tyson continued devouring her until every quake and clench had subsided.

He quickly picked her up off the dryer and spun her around. His shorts and boxers were around his ankles in record time. He bent her over and drove into her. She was dripping wet. The sounds of him thrusting in and out of her echoed throughout the small space.

“You feel so fucking magnificent,” he groaned.

He moved harder, faster. She met his demands, pushing back, bringing him in even deeper.

“Fuck me harder, Tyson. So hard,” she panted.

His fingers dug into her hips. He gave the woman what she asked for. As much as she thought he was in control, he wasn’t. His body gave her what hers unknowingly demanded. He wanted to please her as much as she wanted to please him. It was a fascinating thing to watch unfold.

He felt her clenching around his cock.

“Come with me,” he gritted, trying to hang on with her.

Erotic screams released from her throat as she gripped him like a vice, milking him of his orgasm.

“Fuck yeah,” he shouted, filling her.

He draped his body over hers, their breathing erratic. Their bodies covered in sweat. His lips danced over her back.

“I don’t think laundry day will ever be the same,” he declared.

Cece giggled. He grinned at the splendor of the melodic sound.



Have you read Book One of The Field Series?

Field of Passion and Dreams

Graham Grayson is a hard worker and all around gentlemen. His dream to play in the majors like his dad just came true. He was called up to be the catcher for the Pittsburgh Buccaneers. On the day of team photos, he meets photojournalist Jordan Michaela Roy.

Still grieving the loss of her dad, Jordan sets aside emotions and memories of her sports reporter father to find her passion again on the field as a sports photojournalist. While working spring training for Major League Baseball, she never anticipates passion igniting off the field, too.
Neither Graham nor Jordan can deny their explosive attraction or the happiness they feel being with each other. Their fathers’ past friendship has them wondering about destiny.

While they worry about the demands of their careers, traveling, and being in the public eye, nothing can prepare Graham for the devastating news that makes him question life, his dream, and love.

Will Graham realize his mistakes before it is too late?

Bookstrand:  http://www.bookstrand.com/book/Field-of-Passion-and-Dreams
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iF0HQL 
iBooks: http://apple.co/2i71qXe 
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2iF2Iwh 
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2i720Eo 

----

Other books by Jacqueline Anne


Connect:

Website: www.authorjacquelineanne.com

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/authorjacquelineanne

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/8537336.Jacqueline_Anne

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Twitter: www.twitter.com/AuthorJacAnne

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/AuthorJacAnne

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

The Psychology of Dreams 101 by KD Grace-Her Dream Leads Kinky Night Journeys #RomanceNovel #Contemporary #MF


Blurb:

What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment.

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.




Excerpt: 

You look beautiful when you dream.

That was the first sentence; that was how it all started.

Leah thought it might be some sort of lucid dreaming when she saw the words scrawled across the page of her open journal on the nightstand. She’d had every intention of asking her instructor about it, but then she couldn’t really tell him the dream that had brought it on, could she? It sounded like the sort of thing the unconscious of a pathetically shy introvert would write to herself from the dream world because she had no one in the waking world to say it to her and, while that might be true—the pathetic introvert part, she didn’t want to make it more obvious to her instructor than it probably already was—especially when she had half a crush on him.

Besides, it also sounded like the sort of thing a sex-crazed slut might write to herself when her vibe batteries ran down. That made her sound even more pathetic—the vibe and the batteries part, not the slut part.

She had just started a course on the psychology of dreams. She tried to take advantage of adult education classes whenever possible. It got her out of the house and forced her to interact with other people—real flesh and blood people. With her job, online shopping, online banking, direct debit, grocery delivery, she never had to leave the house really, and that suited her just fine, but she knew it shouldn’t. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Sometimes going to the classes was more of an ordeal than a pleasure, but that was not the case for the psychology of dreams class.

She had to admit, she’d taken that course because she’d overheard several women giggling and talking about how hot the instructor was and how their dreams had become very sexy since they’d started his class. A part of the class work was to keep a dream journal. The women had been sitting at the table next to her in the coffee shop poring over their journals together and laughing about how they thought Al—Al Foster was the instructor—would respond when he read their dreams. She’d been taking a photography course then, and it had been one of the few times Leah had actually forced herself to initiate conversation, asking the women about the class. They were only too happy to share, and soon she was laughing and blushing and joking right along with them as they told her all about the psychology of dreams course and how it had truly stimulated their dream life. The next term, she signed right up.

A dream journal—that had sounded simple enough when Al—he’d insisted they all call him Al—had explained what it was. All she had to do was write down her dreams every morning when she woke up. But by the time she sat down at the breakfast table with her bowl of cereal and her coffee, dream journal and pen at the ready, she could remember nothing but bits of broken images—nothing dramatic, nothing with hidden psychological meaning—certainly nothing sexy.

After a week of drawing blanks from the dream world, Al had helpfully suggested that she keep the journal open by her bed, and that she set an alarm for every two hours. When the alarm went off, she was then to write just a few key words of what she remembered, words that would jog her memory in the morning.

The first time the alarm went off, she woke disoriented and confused. By the time she remembered why she’d set the alarm, she also remembered she’d forgotten to set the trash out for pick-up. She remembered that she needed to order some more vitamins online. She remembered that she needed to put the clothes in the dryer, but what she didn’t remember was her dreams.

The second alarm, she must have unconsciously shut off before she got fully awake, but on the third, she managed a little dream snippet about chasing a big dog through the local McDonalds, a dog who had shamelessly stolen her Big Mac right out of her hand. She hated Big Macs, and big dogs made her nervous. Well, that was at least something to analyze, wasn’t it? Though Freud had insisted that sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, surely that didn’t hold true for Big Macs, which she didn’t like, and big dogs, which she didn’t trust. Al would be pleased.

The second night there was a dream about a leather jacket with a huge snake for a collar, a snake that talked—kind of like a parrot. There was a dream in which she’d gone to the supermarket and ended up in a maze, unable to find her way out. There was a dream of planting begonias in front of the convenience store around the corner. For the rest of the week, she was excited to see that the setting of the alarms was working. Her key words helped her to remember details, and the rest was easy.

Adult Excerpt:

“Now then, let’s see if we can’t ease the pain in you lovely little bottom before we get on with the spanking, ” Dr. Clyde said before Leah could ask what he meant by his remark about them never getting out of the dream. He rummaged and rattled through the surprising abundance of the desk drawers until he came up with a tube of something she couldn’t see in her bent-over position, but as he unscrewed the lid, she immediately smelled peaches.

There was the sound of something squirting, and then she felt the doctor’s large palm spreading cool lotion against her burning butt. She sighed and clenched at the pleasure of it.

“There now. That feels better, doesn’t it hon? Just what the doctor ordered. We don’t want that lovely ass of yours too wounded just yet. Your punishment has hardly begun, after all.”

“Peach? Seriously?” Al said, coming closer to observe and sniffing as he did so.

“Yup! And it’s edible too,” Dr. Clyde said. “Taste. Not like that, Dear God, Al, put the tube down, and use your imagination. You’re in a dream for fuck sake! And you,” he turned his attention back to Leah, “you lie still. You’re being punished. You don’t get to see what’s happening. You have to trust the dream, trust that what happens next is all a part of the experience.”

“Enough of the psycho-babble, already, Derrick. We get it,” Al protested.

There was a shuffling of male bodies behind her, and Leah felt a different set of hands, clearly Al’s hands. They were not quite as large as Dr. Clyde’s, but they were slightly calloused. She wondered how someone who taught courses on dream psychology got calloused hands. He gently cupped her hips, careful not to touch her wounded left ass-cheek. Then she felt the humid heat of his breath just before his warm wet tongue pressed against the place where her thigh met her left buttock.

“Oh God!” she managed, as the unexpected, but delightful, sinuous lap of his tongue up the rounded contour of her ass cheek moved inward, closer to the cleft that she knew would taste nothing at all like peaches.

Meanwhile the doctor droned on that though at one point in our evolution, we liked the scents and odors of the body, at present that was less the case, and scented and flavored lubricants and lotions for sex often made the partners more comfortable with their personal smells.

“I like her smell,” came Al’s muffled reply. “It’s her I want to taste, not fucking peaches.”

“Wait a minute, you can smell me? I mean I’m sure you can smell me now, but … before?”

“I ha’ a ‘en’ative nothe,” came the slurped reply against her ass, and she decided right then and there that she was just fine with that.

“I fail to see how eating her out is going to help ease the pain at all,” Dr. Clyde observed as Al licked and slurped and nibbled ever closer to the ache at the center that had nothing to do with the spanking.

“It’s my dream.” Leah protested, wriggling and squirming to open her legs against the restraint of the panties around her knees. “If I want him to do … that, then surely he should do that.”

“It’s hardly a punishment though, is it?” the doctor said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest observing Al’s efforts from the edge of Leah’s peripheral vision.

“Who the fuck ca --  res?” she managed with a little gasp as Al fingered her open to make room for his very talented tongue.

She was just getting into it, just beginning to think that maybe Al’s tongue was prehensile when she heard a grunt and opened her eyes to discover the good doctor had moved closer, and he was now observing with his trousers open, his gaze locked on what Al was doing to her bottom and his fist locked around his heavy erection, which pointed accusingly at her ass as he shifted his hips to free his balls.

Not that she wanted him to stop or anything, but she was just about to comment that she failed to see what his cock stroking had to do with her punishment when the sudden absence of a warm tongue from her nether region and the sound of a zipper opening told her that, in solidarity with his fellow male, Al had just freed Simba. She pressed her legs tightly together and wriggled just enough for the binding panties to drop to the floor. Then she kicked them aside and she was free too, opening her thighs anticipating more than Al’s tongue when the damn doctor called a halt to all activities.

“Now what?” Both she and Al growled at the same time.

“You’re not supposed to fuck her, Al. You’re supposed to spank her, punish her, make her repentant.”

“Oh I am,” she managed breathlessly. “I’m very repentant. I’ll never write down fake dreams again.”

Dr. Clyde ignored her. “Look, in the dreams, you’re both being punished. No one gets satisfaction until the punishment is complete.”

“Seriously?” Leah said, and Al cursed profusely.

Under different circumstance to hear such foul language from the mouth of her mild-mannered instructor would have shocked her, but at the moment, she was inclined to agree with him completely.

“Well, I suppose I could have some satisfaction,” the doctor added with a little shrug of his broad shoulders, and the movement made his dick look like it shrugged too in its anxious agreement.

“After all it’s not my dream and I’m not being punished.” Cock in hand, he insinuated himself between Al and Leah and with a quiver of anticipation, Leah wriggled against the table as he fingered her open.

“Wait a minute,” Al said. “This is Leah’s dream. What if she doesn’t want you to fuck her? What if she just wants to get on with it?”

“No, no! That’s all right. I’m good with it. I’m fine.” Leah just wanted someone to fuck her and soon! Since it was her dream, why not the good doctor? He was certainly ready.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t put your cock in her mouth if you want,” Dr. Clyde said to Al. “I suppose that could be considered punishment. It could certainly be considered humiliation in most BDSM circles, if done under the right circumstances, or so I’m told,” he added quickly.

“What if I put my cock up your ass instead,” Al said, shocking both Leah and Dr. Clyde as he yanked at the waistband of the man’s expensive trousers.

Before the doctor could protest, Leah added her own bit of profanity to the blue language hanging in the air. “It’s my dream, damn it! So just put your fucking cock in his fucking hole already! I don’t see how that can affect my punishment. And when you do, I want to see, so Doc, if you’ll just hand me the mirror.”

“Wait a minute, Al’s the Dom, not you.”

“Shut up, Doc!” both she and Al said at once.

“It’s my dream,” Leah repeated, “Besides,” she added quickly, “I’ve never seen a man fuck a man before.”

“Come to think of it, neither have I,” Dr. Clyde said. “Do you think you can angle the mirror so I can see too.”

*****

Buy Links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/psychofdreams 

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2j3KOUv 

iBooks: http://apple.co/2i5xBGu 

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2iDA7r6 

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About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. 

Find K D Here:

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/  and  http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

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

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Monday, January 9, 2017

The Watchmaker and the Widow by Linnea Alexis- He Finds Love On A Montana Ranch #Historical #Romance #MF #KU




Synopsis: 

On his way to California, watchmaker Deacon Fletcher, stops at his grandmother's ranch in Montana. En route, his trip hits one snag after another, each threatening to derail his plan to begin a lucrative job in San Francisco. Further complicating matters is the pretty young widow who lives nearby.
After four years, Molly Goode still grieves the loss of her husband. Raising a young daughter, preparing and selling preserves, and helping her father, leave little time for courting, which suits her just fine—until a handsome watchmaker turns her head.

As Deacon spends time in Morgan’s Crossing, he becomes more involved in the ranch, along with Molly and her daughter. Soon his career goals are challenged and his character tested. As Molly warms toward him, can he convince her that Cupid's arrow can strike more than once?



Buy Link: 

http://amzn.to/2iNgo5R

About the Author: 

Linnea Alexis stopped stirring up trouble in the corporate world a few years ago and now satisfies her appetite for adventure by writing about second chances. She writes Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense, and Historical Romance where flawed heroes and heroines find their Happily Ever After.

Find her at www.linneaalexis.com.