Category Archives: Promo
Mid Week Tease: The No Frat Clause #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Wednesday, folks! I’m running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything packed for Wild Wicked Weekend (more on that to follow in another post), so today I’m teasing you with a hot new romance from H.K. Carlton — enjoy this snippet from her delightful office romance The No Frat Clause.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Fresh out of college, Lexi Wideman lands an entry level job at a lucrative recruiting firm. Only six months into her tenure, she’s offered a major promotion—executive assistant to Roger Kent, the company’s coveted corporate headhunter. Older, irresistible, and ruggedly handsome, Roger Kent turns her into a liquid pool of need with just one smoldering glance. But the opportunity is just too good to pass up this early in her career. Lexi must find a way to remain professional while panting after her boss.
Roger Kent is thrown off guard when the company execs all of a sudden decide he needs an assistant. Perhaps he does, but Lexi Wideman is not the girl for him. She’s smart, young, and gorgeous. It’s hard enough trying to keep his eyes off her. Working in such close proximity, day after day, it would only be a matter of time before his hands followed.
So much for the No Frat Policy.
Excerpt
All of a sudden the lights flickered once again, and the lift jerked.
Lexi grabbed my thigh in panic. “Oh God!”
Oh God was right. Any higher and she was going to get a rock-hard handful.
I wound my arms around her, and we held on as the elevator came to shuddering halt. The lights went out entirely, plunging us into complete darkness. The hydraulic hum of the mechanics powering down droned. Then there was silence except for the clicking of the cables.
“Ohhh …” Lexi said in alarm.
“It’s okay. Take it easy,” I reassured her. “The auxiliary lights should come on in a second when the generators kick in.” But seconds ticked by and nothing happened.
“What’s happening?” she asked, her voice warbling.
“Power outage from the storm I’d say. Guess you were right, we should have taken the stairs.”
“Oh boy.” I felt her take a deep shuddering breath. She shifted, centering her back to my chest, and relaxed into me. I tried to maintain some distance, but there was no help for it, with her perfect little ass snugged right up against my upper thighs. There was no way she missed the massive bulge in my pants. She tensed, but she didn’t pull away either.
I inhaled her familiar scent. Another bad idea. It was just as arousing as the rest of her. She smelled fanfuckingtastic.
Her breathing became erratic. I was afraid she was about to panic.
“We’re okay. Relax.” I ran my hands up and down her arms.
She melted into me.
“Do you have your cell phone?” I asked in a tight voice. “We could use it for light. And-or call for help. At least let someone know we’re in here.”
“No, I left mine at the office. You?”
“I think I tossed mine in the briefcase. It’s down here by our feet somewhere.”
A ringing noise made us both jump.
I released her and groped in the dark until I found the little door containing the emergency phone. “Hello?” I answered in a clipped tone.
“What’s your name, and how many are with you?” a gruff voice barked.
“Roger Kent. There are two of us. Myself and my assistant.”
“We’re working on getting you down. Try not to panic.”
“All right, but can you do something about the auxiliary lighting?”
“The generators should engage anytime now. Sit tight.”
“Okay, we’ll sit tight. As if we have a choice,” I said as I hung up.
From the awkward way I’d been leaning, I straightened up slightly, rearranging my hips back into the corner. “We’re gonna be a while,” I said and reached for Lexi. It was pitch black. I couldn’t make out a goddamn thing. “Where’d ya go? Christ, it’s dark.”
“I’m searching for the cell.” Just then my palm made contact with a nicely rounded hip. Oh fuck, she was bent over in front of me. I followed the soft plump curve as she rooted through the briefcase. I closed my eyes and took long, slow inventory of her shapely backside. I stifled a groan, but it escaped as more of a grunt.
Slowly, she straightened and turned in my direction. The low light from my cell screen glowed, illuminating the space between us.
The tension between us was palpable. She stared at me. Her lips parted. I don’t know what she saw in my expression. One of us made a growling sound. I suspect it was me.
Simultaneously, she dropped the phone and reached for me as I grabbed for her. I sought her lips hungrily as the darkness enveloped us once more. She moaned something incoherent into my mouth.
In a wild frenzy, we nipped and sucked at each other’s mouths, our hands roamed free and greedily. My cock lengthened to painful proportions.
Lexi arched into me, her ample breasts pressing against my upper chest. She squirmed as I tried to gather her sweet backside in my greedy hands. Lifting her, I thrust my hips at her, leaving no doubt as to what I wanted.
In answer, she pressed her pelvis against me. The pressure felt amazing, but I wanted more.
“Yeah,” she cried softly. “Yeah …”
Fuck yeah!
Buy Links
Amazon
Evernight Publishing
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About H.K. Carlton
H K Carlton is a multi-published Canadian author of romance and its varied sub-genres, including contemporary, paranormal, historical, family saga and erotica.
I enjoy writing in many different genres. I write where the muse takes me and make no apologies for it. By now, it’s quite safe to say I will never pick just one genre and stick to it. There are just too many possibilities and stories left to tell. Today time-travel, tomorrow sweet historical romance—the next release might be, down and dirty erotica or ménage. I hope you’ll join me for the ride.
Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me.
Website/Blog | Twitter | Facebook Author Page | Facebook Timeline | Evernight Author Page
BookBub | Goodreads
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Mid Week Tease: Pharaoh’s Pleasure #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from something written by my friend JT Handler. We’ve known each other all my life, and JT writes fun-filled M/M erotica that I’m pleased to feature this week. Pharaoh’s Pleasure will be available on Amazon next week and kicks off a new series titled Pleasures in Time that should prove very entertaining for M/M readers.
Some set up — in order to avoid his overbearing (and very handsy) advisor Gordon Pattinson, grad student Kellen Fox spends the night working on an Ancient Egyptian exhibit display. When he polishes a hematite scarab, however, something very unexpected occurs.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Kel noticed the hematite scarab had slid off its clear plastic stand. Unlatching the case, he carefully picked up the scarab and examined it. There weren’t any new cracks or chips, thank God, just greasy fingerprints that were definitely not his. Goddamn it, Pattinson, do you jack off with this thing or what?
Wrapping a corner of his t-shirt around two fingers, he buffed out the fingerprints, spending a little of his frustration in the action. Something clicked under his rubbing, and the detailed wing section of the scarab slid back a bit.
He froze. That’s not supposed to happen. Oh, fuck, tell me I didn’t break it. Dry-mouthed, he peered at the carving and saw the gleam of gold.
Whoa. That is not supposed to be there. Very gently, he pushed the wing section again. It slid further on what he could now see were carved tracks, exposing a flat slice of gold embedded in the bottom half of the scarab. Inscribed in the metal were three rows of hieroglyphs.
His fear flashed into a full body thrill. Middle Egyptian. Sweet mother of Horus, it’s fucking Middle Egyptian! And Pattinson never found it!
He had a sudden daydream about writing a paper on the hidden hieroglyphs, receiving academic accolades for his discovery, maybe even basing his doctoral thesis on them. He quickly came back down to earth when he realized that he’d still have to report it to Pattinson as the head researcher on Pharaoh Senekenre. And knowing that conceited jerk, he’ll take all the credit and I won’t see shit.
Beside, you don’t even know what they say. They might be the 17th Dynasty equivalent of a fortune cookie. Frowning, he slowly sounded out the symbols. “Amhemnet, first advisor to Pharaoh Senekenre, calls on you, O Ra, to hear my prayer,” he said out loud. His voice echoed in the empty hall, taking on an odd, hollow quality. “Help me build a bridge for Pharaoh, to continue his line. I beg you, Great Ra, hear my prayer.”
Okay, definitely not a fortune cookie. Amhemnet was the pharaoh’s vizir and architect, and supposedly one of the greatest magicians of ancient Egypt. It sounded like he had inscribed some sort of personalized prayer of protection for the royal family. Sliding the shell section closed again, Kel went to put the scarab back in the display case, and stopped when he saw a reddish glow reflected in the glass. Fire?
Turning around, his jaw dropped open. Hanging in mid-air not five feet from him was a shimmering orange ball of light. The thing suddenly flared brightly, and Kel threw up his hand to shield his eyes.
And then the light was suddenly gone. Eyes still shut, he heard a deep, rumbling voice say, “What is this place?”
Cautiously, he lowered his hand and opened one eye, then the other. Then blinked. Then drooled just the tiniest bit. Because in front of him stood a tall, muscular, absolutely freaking gorgeous man with caramel skin, wearing a linen kirtle and one of the most spectacular scapulars Kel had ever seen. Bold black eyes outlined with kohl stared back at him curiously. “And who are you?” the man said. “Is this a dream? Or are you some sort of god?”
Kel realized the man’s lip movements didn’t sync up with his words. In fact, there was a soft rumble of a foreign language under the English, like an overdubbed movie. Okay, I am either officially hallucinating from six weeks of exhaustion combined with a sugar rush, or someone who looks like a 17th Dynasty underwear model just stepped out of a JJ Abrams special effect.
Hallucinating seemed more likely, all things considered. Which was a freaking shame, because just looking at Tall, Dark, and Imaginary ignited a deep sense of longing and need in Kel’s balls.
“Yeah, definitely not a god,” he said, tugging his t-shirt down. “Those are the tenured professors. I’m just a graduate student.”
“A graduate student.” The man seemed to roll the words over his lips, as if tasting them. “You are a scholar, then?”
“Not according to my advisor.” Ken winced when the man frowned at the quip. “Sorry. Yes, I’m a scholar.”
Over his shoulder he could see the artist’s rendering of Senekenre. The long-dead man’s face matched the stranger’s perfectly.
Oh, this is getting better and better. “I know this is going to be a weird question,” he said, “but has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like Pharaoh Senekenre?”
The man smiled. “Well, yes, seeing as I am Pharaoh Senekenre.” His smile widened, becoming a thing of sexy delight. “Who did you think I was, young scholar?”
Kel found himself grinning back at the handsome man. “Well, a hallucination, to be honest. So you’re telling me you’re Senekenre. Fourteenth king of the 17th Dynasty. You’re a genuine Egyptian Pharaoh, and you’re standing in front of me. Alive.”
Something flickered in Sekenenre’s eyes, sharpening them. He gazed around the chamber, finally spotting the deconstructed bed, and went pale under the bronze tan. “Gods above and below,” he whispered. “It worked?”
“What worked?”
The pharaoh spun back, fear and excitement warring in his expression. “Amhemmet’s plan,” he said. “Have I traveled to the future as he promised?”
Kel blinked. “Uh…”
“He said he would use his magic to send me to another time for a single night.” Senekenre stepped to the display case holding the hematite scarab, pressing his palm against the glass. “It was the only way to secure a future for my queen and myself. He said that when the right man found the spell and invoked it, the bridge would be formed, and I would be transported.”
The words hidden inside the scarab blazed through Kel’s mind. Amhemnet, first advisor to Pharaoh Senekenre, calls on you, O Ra. Help me build a bridge for Pharaoh.
His mouth went dry. “Wait. You’re telling me this Amhemnet guy used magic to send you to another time? To this time?”
Senekenre nodded. “Yes, thanks to you. I take it you invoked the spell?”
“If you mean I read it out loud, yeah. I didn’t know it was a spell.” Swallowing hard, Kel forced himself to reach out and touch Senekenre’s arm. It was warm under his fingertips. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “I’m not hallucinating. You’re real. You’re really here!”
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Mid Week Tease: Cross Current #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, chumrades, and welcome to Mid Week Tease! This week I’m featuring anohter snippet from Cross Current (Olympic Cove #4), where our hero Matt winds up being abruptly introduced to the paranormal world. No pressure.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Matt choked on his wine.
Griffin leaned over and whacked him on the back as he spluttered. “You all right, mate?”
“Yeah,” Matt managed, grabbing a napkin and wiping his chin. “Sorry. Uh….”
He pointed at the beach, where a guy who could have worked as a body double for Chris Evans was climbing out of the surf. Shaggy blond hair surrounded a face that should have been on a romance novel cover, while the water slid off muscled arms and a perfect V-shaped torso, drops trickling down to—
Matt swallowed as the man’s naked and well-hung groin cleared the water. Jesus God, how does that thing not act like an anchor?
If that wasn’t enough, a sleek brown head also emerged from the water, letting out a ringing bark. One of the biggest seals Matt had ever seen thumped out of the water with the aid of powerful flippers. Man and beast headed straight for Dunn’s cottage, where Naked Guy dropped to his knees at the stairs, bowing his head. “My lord,” he said, voice rough and exhausted, “I come to ask a boon.”
My lord? And then Matt noticed Dunn’s expression. The amusement from the meal had turned into grim authority, while Ammie’s delicate features firmed into a more feminine version of her husband’s glower. Griffin leaned back in his seat, rubbing his mouth.
Matt turned back to the newcomers just in time to see the seal start writhing on the sand. It let out a series of pained noises, deforming as if something inside the creature was trying to get out.
And then the sleek sable fur on the breast split, a human hand pushing through it. The animal abruptly turned into a seal-shaped balloon that slid off the shoulders of a dark-haired man who crawled out of its skin.
Also naked, a hysterical little voice in the back of Matt’s head said. Although not quite as well hung…
The seal man got to his feet with an effort, looking drained. “Lord Poseidon,” he said to Dunn with a weary bow, “my name is Malcolm Muir, and I formally ask for sanctu—”
Before he could finish the sentence his eyes rolled up. With a gentle smile he collapsed face forward into the sand.
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Fabulous Friday Reads: Waking the Lioness
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Amber Morgan’s purrfectly wonderful new novel Waking the Lioness, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Amber!
I’m a werewolf girl first and foremost, but my second-favourite shifter is definitely the werecat. Although the term “werecat” only really came about in the 1970s, there’s been myths and legends about humans turning into cats forever. In European folklore there are stories of witches turning into domestic cats. In Africa, leopard gods and goddesses would take human form and mate with mortals, and their offspring would be shapeshifters (hmm, now there’s a story idea…). In Asia, the ghosts of people killed by tigers could become evil beings called Chang, who made sure that tigers killed even more people!
And in America, where WAKING THE LIONESS is set, we have were-jaguars. In Mesoamerican cultures, priests and shamans would wear jaguar skins to become jaguars themselves. There are also stories of bipedal felines – kind of like Bigfoot, but, you know, cats. There doesn’t seem to be much about shapeshifting mountain lions, but that’s the beauty of being a writer – I can make it up! I’m hoping that WAKING THE LIONESS will be the first in a series of werecat stories, because there’s just so much to explore! In the mean time, I’m looking forward to you meeting Lara, Zane, and Tate, and getting to know my werecats very, very intimately.
Convinced she could never give her fiance what he truly wanted, cat-shifter Lara Carey walked away from her home and her engagement, and started fresh in New Orleans. One year on, she’s never stopped missing Zane Walker…but it’s too late to do anything about it, isn’t it?
Zane Walker hasn’t come to New Orleans to find Lara, but when chance throws them together, his passion for her is reignited. There’s just one problem. Zane’s new lover is missing somewhere in New Orleans, and even if Zane and Lara find him, can Lara accept him and Zane?
Story Excerpt
She smiled, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “Is Tate the jealous type?” she asked, flexing her fingers. Zane let out a long sigh.
“Lara, this isn’t—”
She moved in front of him, sliding her hand down his torso until she cupped his balls. Another ragged sigh. Lara licked her lips and kissed his throat, nipping lightly. The smell of male arousal mingled with her own musk. She kept her eyes on Tate as she teased Zane, raking her nails over his balls and rubbing her thumb across that soft, sensitive stretch of flesh beneath, just the way he loved. If Tate was the jealous type, she could be making a major mistake here, one she’d never recover from.
But Tate didn’t look angry or jealous as the dull glaze faded from his eyes. He looked…curious.
Zane groaned as she encircled his hardening cock. He pulled her hard against him, crushing her breasts to him with just the right balance of pleasure-pain. She whimpered as he dug his fingers into her hips, silently urging her on.
She worked her hand slowly up and down his shaft, her other hand making lazy trails up and down his chest. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone. The slightest contact burned like wildfire, and this was Zane, the only man she’d ever loved. Breathless with desire, wound tight with need, it was impossible to pretend she did this only to force Tate into a shift. She was doing this all for her own selfish pleasure and she wasn’t going to stop. And if Zane’s reaction to her touch was anything to go by, he didn’t want her to.
On the bed, Tate raised his head and chirped at Zane. Zane raised his head, a little growl escaping his lips. “You know the rules. You want in, you shift,” he said in a voice thick and throaty with desire.
The words caught Lara off-guard. They implied so much with so little. So much history, past threesomes maybe. Her heart skipped. Did Zane think… Would she even…?
Her stomach filled with butterflies as she realized she would. Dammit, she was so starved for skin contact, so – yes, still so in love with Zane, that she would. She’d take both men. Excitement raced through her. She’d take them both and savor the thrill of it.
Tate shook his head and pushed himself up, his wounded back leg clearly hampering him. Lara’s hand faltered for a second, worried he’d hurt himself worse, but then Zane’s hand closed over hers. “Finish what you started,” he growled.
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon US
Amazon UK
AllRomance eBooks
About Amber Morgan
Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man and two stupid snakes.
Mid Week Tease: Cross Current #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from the beginning of Cross Current (Olympic Cove #4). No, it’s not very sexy but I haven’t gotten to that point. Yet. Muwahahahaha…
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“If you’ll sign here, please.”
Matt Taber wrote his signature on the indicated line.
“And here.”
Another line, another signature.
“And one last time.”
The same slightly scrawled name, black ballpoint ink pressed into grooves. The lawyer’s office printed out their documents on the nice heavy paper made for laser printers, not the thin general purpose stuff.
Nothing but the best for the death of a marriage.
“That should do it,” his lawyer said. He exchanged a nod with the other lawyer, their steps done in this particular dance.
Across the table, Matt’s now-ex-wife Nancy sat with her hands neatly folded, a politely blank expression on her face. After ten years of living with her, he still couldn’t read it.
Then again, he didn’t have to try anymore. Giving her a brusque nod, he stood and followed his lawyer out of the conference room.
“That went pretty well, I’d say,” the lawyer said. “Although I still think we should have held out for community property.”
Matt shrugged. “I don’t want anything from her.”
That wasn’t quite true. But it was far too late in any case. And God knew the last thing he wanted from her was money.
He nodded through the rest of the lawyer’s litany, agreeing to stop by the office for the final payment. And then he was alone in the granite-clad hallway, surrounded by expensive air and time that was counted in billable hours.
“Matt.”
He turned. Nancy stood at the door of the conference room, elegant as always. Today she wore a cream tailored jacket and skirt over a champagne silk blouse that would go straight from a divorce lawyer to her VP office at a major bank without anyone batting an eye.
The regret washed over him again. I loved you, I really did.
I’m sorry.
She pursed her mouth as if hearing his thoughts. “I’m not going to give you some ridiculous platitude about how this is the best thing for both of us,” she said, kind and blunt at the same time. “I wasn’t happy and I wanted out, simple as that. But I also know you’re hurting right now, and I’m sorry about that. You’re a good person, Matt. You’ll be able to find someone who’s a better fit for you.”
Matt let a slow breath roll out. “I thought you weren’t going to give me some ridiculous platitude.”
One black eyebrow rose in an elegant curve, her equivalent of a laugh. “You have a point. I’ll be back from Hong Kong in a month. Will that be enough time for you?”
“Yeah, plenty.” The house on Chinook Lane had been hers before their marriage. He admired the building, but never felt at home there. It was like living in something out of an issue of Architectural Digest. “I can swing by and check the mail every couple of days if you like.”
“No, I already put a hold on it at the post office. But I appreciate the offer.”
“Okay.” He stared at the woman who, with a handful of signatures, had gone from his wife to a stranger. “Well. Have a good flight.”
“Thanks.” She leaned forward and brushed cool lips across his cheek, then turned and walked away.
Available on Amazon.
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Marvelous Monday Reads: One Hour Girl @LeTeishaNewton @AnchoredBooksPR
Happy Monday, folks! Today I have LeTeisha Newton on to talk about her new book One Hour Girl, coming on February 29, 2016. Take it away, LeTeisha!
What drove you to create One Hour Girl?
Because it was time. I think that One Hour Girl, for me, is a piece I created to speak to so many women out there that are victims of domestic or child abuse and how they survived it. It doesn’t have to be a public badge anyone wears, but it can fiddle with everyday life, the way you look at yourself, and how you deal with others. Celeste was a woman who used negative coping mechanisms to get through her past and it took an equally messed up man to help her. But he wasn’t all about making himself her source of happiness. He wanted her to love herself and see herself the same way he did, and that helped her heal. Isn’t that how life is? How love should be?
What is the Lost Series?
The point of the Lost Series was to create a series of stand-alone books that could be read completely separate, with no overlap, and no cliffhangers. They are tied by a common theme of lost souls, real people, finding love they way they have to. One Hour Girl is a gritty contemporary romance, and the flagship book. Scarred, Book 2, is more a dark romance with BDSM elements. Phenomenal, Book 2.5 is a MMA Fighter romance about an underdog fighter who has lost everything struggling to get to the top again, and the woman who is willing to help him get there. Each of the books, and the ensuing ones to come, wil satisfy different readers, and that’s what I was going for.
Totally get that. So how did you pick your hero and heroine?
I’m one of those authors that know my characters faces long before I write their stories. They are real to me. I know them, and I live them. Royce was drool worthy and I needed to give him an equally beautiful heroine. Because of the world they live in,their looks mattered quite a bit. Celeste moonlights as a high-dollar escort. Royce is L.A.’s most eligible bachelor. That contrasts with darker, rougher Ethan and River of Scarred, Book 2. They are equally scarred physically and mentally. Their look is much different. My characters look like their worlds.
So you already have the other books in the works?!
Oh yeah! Don’t want to leave my readers in a lurch LOL! One Hour Girl is out in February 2016, Scarred in May of 2016, and Phenomenal will be in a NOLA Boxed set with 8 other AMAZING authors, so we will keep that a bit under wraps, in August 2016!
He thinks I’m his forever girl, I saw it in his eyes. I wished I could have slapped the look off his face and hit him with the same jarring finality I’d learned I didn’t mean shit.
I’m not a forever sort of girl.
I’m not even his for the night.
He’ll be lucky if I’m his for the next hour if he doesn’t pay me for it.
And then Royce Mattherson stormed my defenses. Took all the poison inside of me and pushed it out through my pores. He tasted the taint on my skin and still decided to love me. He terrifies me. Exhilarates me. Frustrates me.
And he always gets what he wants.
Always…
Story Excerpt
I watched Celeste’s eyes widen and she tried to shift from under me, coming out of the daze as she looked over at the hustling waiter. I gripped her hips, pinning her beneath me.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” I assured her. “You seemed to have ruined my dinner, and I’m famished.”
I licked my lips, feeling desire and pride swell within me as her gaze tracked my movement and a warm flush appeared under her skin. I pressed my hips between her legs, hissing at the heat of her pussy against my cloth covered cock.
“I think I’ve found something to eat…right…here,” I told her, letting go of her hip to push my hand between us and cup her sex.
She moaned, head tossed back. I waited long enough for the waiter to run behind the counter and away before I claimed her mouth again. This was my place, my money, my rules. No one would disturb us, and I wanted to see how wild she could get. I wanted to control her.
I rubbed my fingers against her in a circular motion as I devoured her mouth. She gripped at my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. It couldn’t fall to the floor because I wouldn’t stop caressing her, but it was out of her way enough that she went for my shirt next. Buttons popped as she ripped my shirt open and ran her nails down my chest.
Ground zero.
My cock was hard and pulsing in my pants. I moved my hand from between us and ground against her. She cried out, rolling her hips against me. I liked that. I fucking loved how she gave into her passion. She didn’t fight it, she didn’t apologize for it. The way she responded to me made me feel like a god.
I sucked my way down the side of her neck, paying attention to any hitch of breath, and shift of her body. I noticed that her nails dug when I nipped over her pulse. She sucked in a breath when I traced her cleavage with my tongue. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh when I pulled the neck of her dress down far enough to suck her nipple into my mouth, bra and all.
I noted it all, and logged it to memory. She was mine. So what if it didn’t make sense? So what if I was fighting an uphill battle against a woman who didn’t believe in giving herself. We weren’t talking about love. We were talking about enjoying a spark with another person that we’d never feel again.
I could give her everything she needed, but the emotions. She just needed to learn that people like us? That’s all we needed. I let her nipple go long enough to pull her into my arms and force the dress up and over her head. I tossed the dress over my shoulder as I used my other hand to pop her bra. By the time she lay back on the table she only had her delicate black thong and heels on.
Beautiful.
Her breasts were slightly rosy with desire. It was such a pretty color against her bronze flesh. I captured her slightly darker nipple in my mouth, grinding my hips against her. Her fingers tunneled through my hair as she held me to her. Rolling her nipple with my tongue just to hear her cry out again, I traced the inside of her thighs.
“So pretty. How good will you taste?” I asked her. I kissed my way down over her stomach, stopping long enough to dip my tongue in her navel. Her body shook under my hands. Or maybe it was my hands. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important thing for me was to drink her down. To hear her scream my name.
I nuzzled her groin. It was bare, and the skin there was smooth. I nipped the sensitive flesh and then licked away the sting. Her skin was like spun honey, sticky and moist, and so fucking amazing. The crease on the inside of her thigh where it met her groin demanded attention and I followed the line down with my tongue.
I took a moment to sit back and grab my chair. I sat back down and looked at her pussy. My breath came out hard and raspy as I admired the tight lips and nub peeking out from its hood. Moisture leaked out of her, making her shine. All for me. I’d done that. Gripping the backs of her thighs, I pushed her legs up and out.
“Royce—” she started by I popped her ass to shut her up.
“You chose this, and it’s what I want. Has anyone, ever, just pleased you? Have you ever had someone who couldn’t think of their own pleasure because it was intrinsically combined with yours?”
She stared at me, so I popped her ass again.
“Answer me.”
“No,” she said finally. “Never.”
“You won’t be able to say that after tonight,” I promised her.
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About LeTeisha Newton
Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha has spanned from Fantasy to Interracial Romance on her road to getting the jumping characters out of her head. Most days she’s pretty color blind, unless it’s a great shade of red (then she can’t ignore it). Other times she’s plotting her next twenty books and then remembering that the computer can’t read her thoughts and doesn’t type at lightning speed. Either way, she just can’t seem to get enough of quill to paper…or eh…keyboard strokes, apparently.
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Wicked Wednesday Reads: Cupid #holiday #christmas #erotica #romance #shifter #paranormal #pnr
Whee, it’s Wednesday and Christmas is right around the corner! Let’s celebrate this with Lucy Felthouse and her delightful new holiday romance, Cupid, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Lucy!
As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Has Cupid finally met his match?
Story Excerpt
Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.
Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.
He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.
He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.
Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.
He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.
The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.
The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.
As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
Goodreads
Abo
ut Lucy Felthouse
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9.
Marvelous Monday Reads: Dragon’s Honor #freeARC
Happy Monday, folks! Today I have Michaela Kendrick on to talk about her new book Dragon’s Honor, now available from Amazon. For a FREE review copy of Dragon’s Honor, email Michaela at mkendrickauthor@gmail.com.
Set in a far-distant future, the Dragon Corps Series follows the members of the Human Alliance’s most feared fighting unit. Across the vast distances of space, the Dragons maintain justice and peace.
But the cost is high. Cade Williams, a soldier with the potential to become a living legend, left the Corps after a mission that claimed not only the life of his target, a slave trader, but also the lives of every slave on the man’s ship. Vowing never again to kill, Cade has spent the last two years trying to put his past behind him. But when he finally runs out of options, it’s Talon Rift, his former commanding officer who finds him in the slums – and offers him a nice, easy job guarding Aryn Beranek, one of society’s richest woman.
Starving and desperate, Cade takes the job – and realizes the moment he sees Aryn that he’s made a terrible mistake. Not only does he want her more than he’s ever wanted anyone, her husband is the arms trafficker supplying the legendary despot known only as the Warlord of Ymir. And when the truth about her husband comes out, Aryn’s search for justice will force Cade to confront the one man he fears the most: himself.
From the slums of New Arizona to the mines of Ymir, Dragon’s Honor follows the journey of a man determined to save the only woman he has ever loved – a woman who has already decided to sacrifice herself to kill the Warlord.
Story Excerpt
“Cade Williams?”
The words came through the haze of smoke and drunkenness like a hallucination. Cade knew that voice. He was never, ever going to be able to forget that voice, and it had to be a hallucination because there was no way in hell the owner of that voice had chased him across three systems only to walk into a dive bar on the lower streets of New Arizona. So he went back to his drink.
He picked up the glass and stared at it. It was a scotch he’d been nursing for about three hours now, and not just because “scotch” seemed to be a loose term for colored grain alcohol. When he finished his drink, he had nowhere to go. And in the ever-drifting snow of New Arizona—he’d never figured out if the name was born of ignorance or irony—he needed to stay indoors as long as possible. The cold was fierce, and whatever acid was in the water on this planet, it would burn his skin raw in less than a night.
And if he didn’t get ten thousand credits to Osiris within a week, he was a dead man. But one thing at a time. Cade shook his head and let the moment slide away from him, a tiny drift into memory and nothing more.
“Williams,” the voice said again.
That was definitely not a hallucination. Cade’s eyes traveled along the arm that had come down on one side of him. Callused fingertips, last joint of the right index finger missing, the hint of a tattoo poking out from under a blue cuff. The arm underneath the suit jacket was well muscled, leading to broad shoulders and a clean-shaven jaw, and with a sinking feeling of dread, Cade looked up at one of his worst nightmares.
“Lieutenant Rift.”
“Actually, it’s Major now.” Talon’s face was expressionless, as it almost always was. He watched as Cade’s eyes traveled over the understated suit, across the planes of the handsome face. At last, sensing the question Cade would never ask, he flipped over the hand on his resting arm. There, glimmering in the faint light, were blood-red cufflinks.
A Dragon always wore red.
Talon absorbed Cade’s bitter smile in silence.
“You look surprisingly well.” Cade looked down into his scotch and considered drinking the rest in one gulp. The pours in this bar were generous, and with the alcohol being of dubious provenance, a gulp might well kill him. Right now, that wasn’t seeming so bad. It was all coming back to him—without warning, as it always did. He’d known the moment he heard the voice that this was going to be a bad night, even worse than he’d thought—and he’d already thought it would be pretty bad. There was screaming at the corner of his mind, the flashing of the lights in the bar taking on a reddish hue, the emergency exit sign too clear a reminder.
He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw until he thought his teeth would give way. He had to keep breathing, or the memories would take him, and the world would devolve into the chaotic mess he so feared, every face reminding him of the pods, the children pounding on the glass—
He was going to be sick. His stomach heaved.
“Should I go?”
“No.” Cade’s answer surprised even him. He opened his eyes and looked down into his drink again. He could force the world back into its neat shapes if he tried hard enough. In the vacuum of space, in the long silences of a courier’s job, he’d learned to face his fear and press it away.
He could face this, too.
“Okay.” Talon sat, pulled reflexively at both cuffs, and looked over at the bartender. “What won’t kill me here?”
“Don’t try the scotch.”
“Noted.”
Where to Buy
About Michaela Kendrick
Raised on the Dragon Riders of Pern, Star Wars, Star Trek, and a whole bunch of historical romances, Michaela grew up adoring the adventure of Science Fiction and the passion of a good love story. Filled with double crossing, grand romantic gestures, sarcasm, and plenty of heat, Michaela’s books are just the sort of thing she wants to read herself!
Fabulous Friday Reads: Donner and Prancer
TGIF! It’s never too early to start getting into the holiday mood, so let’s kick off the weekend with Robin Badillo’s delicious new Romance on the Go Donner and Prancer, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Robin!
Noah Donner had it all. Good looks, great job, and a kick-ass gift. As a special breed of shifter, every Christmas Eve he assisted Santa as one of his famous reindeer. A lover of all women, he’s the quintessential playboy. But all that changed within weeks of Christmas, when he found himself drawn to another reindeer shifter, Mira Prancer.
Not exactly sleek reindeer material, full-figured Mira took pride in her gift as a shifter, while not nearly as confident about herself when in human form. Usually a timid wallflower, Mira is surprised to learn she’s Noah’s latest target, and after a drunken night of unexpected passion, they find themselves in a quandary.
Neither can deny the attraction, but Mira will need more than words to trust the sexy Casanova.
Can the two love-struck shifters play nice? Or will this little Reindeer Game require a little Christmas magic?
Story Excerpt
Noah nudged her against the door, closing it behind them.
Mira gasped. His smoldering expression turned her stomach upside down, and heat pooled between her legs. Had he cast a spell, stealing away her ability to escape? Her skin tingled at the thought of giving in to his silent intent.
Noah’s hands found her midsection and needy eyes drank her in as though she were a mug of hot, buttered rum on a cold winter’s night.
I’ve totally lost my mind. “Is this really happening?” Did I say that aloud?
Noah’s eyes gleamed and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh, it’s happening.” He slowly leaned in, and his lips grazed hers, immediately followed by his tongue. Warm swipes plunged deeper with each pass, triggering moisture that dampened her panties.
Mira’s knees buckled and Noah scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the sofa as though she weighed next to nothing.
His kisses grew more passionate. Deeper. Hungrier.
Mira could hardly catch her breath. This was crazy. Insane. “Get the fuck out!”
Noah stopped. A look of confusion and shock flashed in his eyes. “What?”
Mira laughed, covering her mouth as heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. That sort of slips out whenever I’m surprised.”
Noah’s brow pinched. “You’re surprised?”
She bit back another laugh and went with an enthusiastic nod instead.
“Why?”
Mira’s head spun and she strained to sit upright. How could she explain this? “Men like you don’t come home with women like me, Noah.”
He shook his head. “Why?”
He sounded like a broken record now.
“Be-because,” she said stammering through her reply. “Look at you.”
Noah rose and stood by the sofa, gazing down at her. “What about me?”
“Uh … well, you’re built like a Greek god and you have a reputation as a …” She searched for the correct words—words that held a little more delicacy than man-whore. “Ladies’ man?”
“Humph.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Ladies’ man, huh?”
“I was being polite.” Mira squirmed.
Noah’s eyebrows arched high. “Is that so?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Mira?”
Bile shot up in the back of her throat as her nervous demeanor morphed into one a little more hostile. “How I really feel?” Dozens of irritating things about the man came to mind. Everything from his obnoxious, too-loud laugh, to the ugly reindeer sweater he wore, to the Christmas party every friggin’ year. “Well … for starters, you brag about your conquests entirely too much.” She’d keep her comments limited to the facts rather than opinions. “You treat women like trophies and well … you seem to have a serious problem with my ass.” The last part flew out of her mouth so fast she had no time to reel it back in.
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon
AllRomance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Robin Badillo
Robin Badillo and her pseudonym, Tyler Robbins, is a down to earth mother of four, born and raised in a small Texas town where she still resides with her nearly grown kids and a pack of spoiled dogs.
After years of being a wife and mom, complete with company picnics and fundraisers for the P.T.A., Robin found herself starting over when her husband of fifteen years suddenly passed away. With no particular skills to speak of other than making killer chili con queso, Robin took the advice of friends and family, and followed her heart and passion for writing into the publishing world.
A fan of paranormal and southern romance novels, Robin does her best to offer up a plethora of tasty morsels to satisfy her readers’ appetite. Whether mainstream and/or paranormal erotic romance or Tyler’s LGBT romance line, Robin strives to create characters who are endearing and relatable.
Adversity is Robin’s motivation, which explains why she’s a true believer that grey hair is simply God’s graffiti.
Wicked Wednesday Reads: The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions
Whee, it’s Wednesday! And today you ARE going to be celebrating because the awesome Doris O’Connor and Raven McAllan have done it again with their time traveling Regency erotic romance The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Okay, ladies, tell us all about it!
Thanks so much for having the lovely Raven and me on your blog today. You know, we often talked about writing a book together, but that’s as far as it went. Then our reader group The RavdorChicks started nagging us—in the nicest possible way of course—that they would love us to write a story together.
So, after much frantic skype messaging, where we brainstormed ideas, and one very sleepless night from me, when the start of a workable story actually came to me, the idea was born.
What followed was a fun filled four days with Raven in Scotland, where we put our heads down, fuelled by wine, chocolate, and Gin&Tonics, and our fingers flew.
We had so much fun writing this story I can say this won’t be our last collaboration. We hope readers will like The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions as much as we loved writing this story.
Much love from both of us!
Stay naughty now, folks.
D & R xxx
Follow your heart and cross space and time…
When Clara lands the job as curator of Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially when her favorite Regency Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.
The costume ball is always the highlight of the year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous Dukes.
Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball.
Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.
As both couples slowly come to terms with the reality of their situations, can they find happiness? Is it as simple as following your heart?
Story Excerpt
Daniel paused mid swatting the delectable arse in front of him to rub, what must be a considerable ache by now, away. His quarry had stopped screaming for this Vicky, at last, and unless his senses were completely off, she was starting to enjoy his attention. Certainly her breaths were coming in short gasps, and instead of struggling, she was raising her bottom into every carefully placed swat of his hand.
The evening was definitely looking up. As was his cock, which was in danger of splitting his evening breeches.
There was one way to find out for sure. Daniel slipped his fingers under the hideous undergarments, and smirked at the all over body shiver his girl gave. Satisfied with not only her reaction but also by the wet, hair-free cunt he found, he let his digits linger.
“Oh, god.”
Her breathless moan spurred him on, and he grinned when he found her hidden pearl. She shivered again when he circled the tight nub, and Daniel set up lazy circles, designed to drive any woman wild. This chit proved no exception. The air grew heavy with the musk of aroused woman, and Daniel inhaled deeply, before he stopped the movement.
A strangled groan escaped his girl, and he tapped her arse again, when she tried to rub her cunt on his fingers.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I want the truth, starting with your name, and maybe then I’ll let you find release. Only on my say so, though, are we clear here, girl?”
“Fuck, yes … ow.”
Her arse cheeks wobbled most satisfactorily, when he yanked that odd fabric down to her knees, and delivered a few more swats to her delectable arse. The woman had a derriere made for fucking, hips to grab onto while he sunk his cock into her body and claimed what was his. That thought made his head come up. His? He had no business having proprietary thoughts toward a servant like that.
“Fuck, we most certainly will, but not without you telling me who you are, so…” He delivered another open handed swat across both of her arse cheeks this time, and her answering deep throated moan made him go so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t spilled in his breeches yet.
“Clara, Sir. My name is Clara.”
Daniel slid his fingers through her sodden slit, and flicked her nub once, causing her to give another one of those cock hardening moans.
“Very nice, but the correct address would be my lord, chit, would it not?”
A strangled groan was his response this time, and when he withdrew his fingers again, she slumped.
“Sorry, My Lord.”
The girl, Clara, he mentally amended, had fire, that was for sure, if the intonation she gave his title was anything to go by. A certain amount of boldness was something Daniel certainly appreciated in his bed partners. If Clara was a lady’s maid, she was wasted in that position. As his mistress, however… His mood improved dramatically as that thought took hold.
It was Christmas, time to be charitable and all that went with such bounty, and what could be better than elevating this lovely creature from her status of mere servant to his mistress.
Mind thus made up, it was time to taste her nectar and to see if what he was suspecting would be true. That Clara and he would mesh perfectly in the bedroom, and he could let his darker desires shine through.
He indulged himself by sliding several digits through her wet cunt, lubricating them with her juices, before he slipped one finger into her tight channel, and brought his thumb to press against the puckered hole, guarding that entrance.
Clara stiffened slightly, but she didn’t voice any protest, and when he started to thrust the finger in her cunt slowly in and out of her, she gasped. Her hips rose in involuntary jerks, which told him how close she already was to exploding under his ministrations. Her untutored responses made him want to hurry this along, but Daniel was never an inconsiderate lover. He would give her several releases before he claimed his own.
“Good girl, and who do you work for?”
Clara moaned and writhed against him, her internal muscles fluttering around his fingers in rippling moves, which signaled her impending orgasm as clearly as the rosy flush spreading across her skin. So beautifully responsive. She jerked when he tapped her nub, and then withdrew his hand.
“Faversham Estate. Oh god, please, My Lord … I.” The rest of her pretty little plea was lost in a screech as he swung her off his lap and onto his bed. Her breasts bounced most satisfactorily, and her lovely almond shaped green eyes widened further when he crawled onto the bed with her, and straddled her midriff. Daniel grasped her arms and brought them high above her head. The action made her breasts rise up in silent offering, and Daniel smirked.
“Hmm, that would mean you work for me. How delightful. Whatever position you hold here, I much prefer you in this one, unable to move and at my mercy. I’m going to tie your wrists together and tether you to one of the posts, sweet Clara. Is that acceptable to you?”
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon
Amazon UK
ARe
Bookstrand
About Doris O’Connor and Raven McAllan
Doris O’Connor
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places:
Website | Reader Group | Tsu | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Evernight Publishing
Amazon | All Romance E-Books | BookStrand | Barnes&Noble
Raven McAllan
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
She admits she’s no domestic goddess, and wonders why tourists think she might run the local bed and breakfast. She doesn’t.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Stalk her in these places:
Website | Amazon | Facebook | Facebook (Author Page) | ARe | Bookstrand Twitter
