TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Allyson Young and Peri Elizabeth Scott’s hot new post-apocalyptic romance Shelter, out on July 18 and now available for pre-order. Take it away, ladies!
Addison Longwood survived the plague that struck down almost everyone around her. She survived the hazardous trek into the countryside to find shelter within a group of like-minded individuals led by a man she can actually respect. Settled and contributing, she allows herself a sense of hope.
From the remaining military, Captain Jesse Forbes is charged with locating survivors in order to rebuild the country. His initial impression of Addison’s band isn’t positive and he sets his sights on the young woman in order to infiltrate, and assess her leader—the end justifying the means, or so he assures himself.
But there are far greater dangers lurking, threatening the very existence of the survivors. Alliances are forged—and tested. Betrayal cuts deep, lives are lost and others changed forever.
Who are the good guys anyhow?
Wrapped in an old piece of toweling—another item to add to the shopping list—she was squeezing the moisture out of her mane when Jesse Forbes came through the door. One of her guys lingered just outside, guarding the man, but every molecule of her being told her to run, far and fast before she put some steel in her spine and managed a nod.
“Morning. I see you’re up ahead of most everyone else too,” he said.
Making small talk in the showers, with him fully clothed and her … not, sucked. To his credit, aside from one sweeping glance down her body, he looked at her face.
“Seems like it.” She edged around him, catching his amused stare and grabbed up her clothes. “Excuse me.”
“I wondered how long your hair was.”
She blinked, and despite herself, her hand rose to finger the wet tangles. Not particularly vain, she’d left her hair to grow, finding it easier to tie up and out of the way instead of fighting with the unruly curls. Especially now she could keep it clean and avoid the critters that tended to infiltrate dirty hair, particularly among close quarters. It had been carefully secured and out of the way on the mountain that day so he couldn’t have known.
Deciding not to answer, she ducked into the tacked-on separate room, no more than a tent, thank goodness for the temperate climate. She rubbed furiously at the dampness still on her skin and then yanked on her jeans under the cover of her towel. She pulled on her shirt, only then using the toweling to wring more moisture from her hair.
“Sorry. Again. I seem to put my foot in my mouth around you. And I’m not yet privy to the rules around here.” His smooth baritone sounded too damn close and she wheeled around, cursing the fact she’d turned her back on him. And he was between her and her rifle.
She hadn’t been mistaken about his size and breadth, although refused to feel intimated—or anything else. Besides, his guard was close by. Her brain processed his educated comment. Sometimes he sounded like an average Joe, then next, a college professor. Privy? Her obsession with books allowed for the interpretation, but still…
Forcing herself to project calm, or whatever felt close to that, she said, “Are you asking about segregation? Of the sexes?” And why had she used the word sex in his vicinity?
“That, among other things.”
“Mitchell, I mean, the Colonel, will apprise you.” She thought she saw a glimmer of intrigue in those strangely colored eyes but it passed too quickly to be certain.
“He said he’d assign someone. As a guide. Aside from my armed escort.”
“Then you’ll be set. Excuse me.”
“Is there a time that’s better for me—and the guys—to shower?” His hands went to the collar of his T-shirt and he tugged it over his head.
Addy had seen enough torsos—and other man parts—in her life. How could she not, given her history and where she now slept? So Jesse’s cut chest and chiseled abs shouldn’t have had any effect on her. And they didn’t, her excellent self-control surging to the fore. They. Did. Not.
“No set times,” she said, infusing her voice with casualness. “This shower is communal for the fighters. The camp defenders, I’d guess you’d call us. There’s another, larger one for the rest of the camp. The guys make allowances for us four women—me, Marcia, Denise, and Laura—first thing. I woke up earlier today.”
Was that a knowing look? She fought a blush. He was getting under her skin and she had no doubt he knew it. Probably knew women inside and out, had lots of experience with them. Well, she had lots of experience with men, too, and none of it positive.
“I slept fine,” she lied. “I woke early, is all. So if you hurry, you won’t be disturbed by the other women when they arrive. Unless it won’t bother you.” For sure it wouldn’t bother Denise and probably not the other two.
“I’ll just be quick then.” His long fingers reached for the button on his khakis. It didn’t escape her notice he didn’t remark on being disturbed by the women.
Refusing to look as though she was fleeing, Addy folded her towel before turning on her heel and stalking out, dipping to snatch up her rifle. The glimpse of his naked, sculpted butt and strong legs was emblazoned on her retinas, but she blinked the vision away. Add arrogance to his confidence. Not necessarily a nice mix.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Allyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada. She and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.
She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.
A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of April 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Doris O’Connor’s hot new romance Impossible, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, Doris!
Thanks so much for having me on your blog with my new release Gabe’s Revenge. This is book two in my series McLeod Security and a lot darker and longer than the first book. You’ll meet some familiar characters from book one in the series, but don’t worry. There are no spoilers, so the series can be read out of order. 🙂
Gabe and Lissa took me on quite the journey when I was writing their story, so hold on tight, as they find their way to their Happy Ever After.
Revenge is best served cold…
Gabriel Henshaw is nothing but a monster—a ruthless killer—that’s what Lissa Andrini has always been told. Sold to the man by her own father, she fears for her life, yet she can’t help the insane pull she feels to him. It has to be some form of Stockholm syndrome, surely? It couldn’t possibly be the effect of his Dominant nature effortlessly pulling her under his spell and awakening her latent submissive side.
Beating Andrini to a bloody pulp soothes Gabe’s rage temporarily, but that leaves his daughter. Were it not for a promise to her mother, he’d refuse this payment, not least because Lissa Andrini awakens all of his protective and carnal instincts. The perfect counterfoil for his darker needs and desires, she has the power to bring him to his knees.
Can love flourish when you’re a pawn in a dangerous game?
“Fuck you, Sir.”
The snarky intonation she put on that title, while she yanked her chin up and did her best to stare him down, should have made him do good on his promise to put her over his knee. However, the slight wobble in her bottom lip, coupled with the way every delectable curve of her body was pressed into his frame, meant any such action would be a very bad idea indeed. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her, and he didn’t want her first time to be angry sex. She deserved better than that.
“Oh, fuck, we will, my dear, but not now and not here.”
Her eyes grew wide, her already fast breaths sped up even more, and Gabe swallowed a groan. He let go of her and stepped back for some much-needed breathing space. As it was his cock was trying his hardest to break out the confines of the denim surrounding it. Gabe couldn’t even remember the last time he wanted a woman this damn much.
“So, you’re going to add rape to your rap sheet. Murdering innocent women wasn’t enough for you?”
A gasp from behind them alerted Gabe to Mavis’s presence, and sure enough when he turned his head it was to see her standing there. Hands pushed into the pockets of her ever-present apron her lips were pressed into a fine line, signaling her disapproval.
“Parkinson is here, Gabe,” she said.
“Thank you, Mavis, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nodded, glanced at Lissandra and shook her head.
“Tell her the truth, Gabe, all of it. Or this will never work.”
With that, she turned and left them alone on the terrace.
“Oh my God, she knows, doesn’t she? I thought she was nice and I could trust her. Oh, I’m such a fool.”
Lissandra tried to get past him, but he stepped in her way.
“Lissa, don’t.” She pushed against his chest in a vain effort to make him move and then glared up at him.
“Don’t you dare call me that. Only Mama ever called me that. Don’t you fucking dare…” She slammed her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Misery and despair rolled off of her in waves, and Gabe had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. She wouldn’t welcome that move right now, if ever, and now was not the time.
Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance, and simply looked at her.
“I’ll call you anything I damn well, please, little girl, and you will lose the attitude. I told you last night, you’re mine now, so you better get used to it. As for Mavis, she is the most loyal person I ever met. Without her, I doubt I would have survived my childhood, so you be nice to her, do you hear me?”
“Or what? You’ll kill me, too?” The mumbled reply grated, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be six feet under already, girl. After the hit on your father went wrong, I’ve never trusted anyone else to do the killing for me ever again.” He waited for that to sink in, and sure enough her head came up, and she stared wide-eyed, confusion evident on her face.
“I thought… it wasn’t…”
“No, little girl. I’m not such a bastard that I would rob a child of its mother, especially when that mother’s only crime was falling in love and staying with that fucker, Andrini. Besides, I prefer to kill with my hands. Much more satisfying.” He uncrossed his arms and wrapped his hands around her slender throat. Her heartbeat jumped under his palms, and he squeezed just once before he released her. “To feel the life draining out a piece of scum that crossed me … that’s sweet.”
“You’re a monster.” Her whispered reply made him grin.
“Yes, I suppose I am. You better get used to it, little girl, and don’t get any silly ideas of crossing me. You behave and do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”
She swallowed hard, but gave the tiniest nod, and that would have to do for now.
“Good girl, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“So, you’ll kill me if I don’t behave?” She mimed quotation marks around that one word and nudged her chin up in a move of defiance that simply served to make him harder. It would be fun to tame all that passion, indeed, and knowing that he would be the first man ever to touch her, to teach her … fuck, what a turn-on that was. Gabe had never cared much about being the first. He wasn’t possessive over the women he fucked. That would mean he cared about them to be anything more than a convenient set of holes to sink his dick into, but this was Lissandra Andrini. His revenge and he was fast beginning to realize his destiny, too. Whether she’d also prove to be his downfall remained to be seen.
“Killing is too easy an out. That’s the only reason Andrini still lives. I want him to suffer, to wallow in his own filth. Death is too good for the likes of him. As for you…” He paused and smiled. “I’ve already told you what I’ll do to you. And once that ass of yours is red raw I will fuck it, so, maybe I’ll kill you after all with the petit mort, at least.”
Her sharp intake of breath almost sounded like a moan, and acting on instinct, he stepped closer, and shoved his hand under her robe to cup her mound. Wet heat greeted his palm, and he smirked, while a blush suffused her pale skin.
“What are you? You can’t … oh…” She tried to clamp her legs together, but one shake of his head stopped her. He forced himself to remove his hand, looked at the glistening evidence of her arousal on his palm and held it up for her to see.
“Protest all you want, Lissa. Hate me if you must, but your body doesn’t lie.” He licked the wetness off his hands and immediately regretted that, as her feminine musk hit his nostrils. Damn, she smelled good.
“I do, I hate you.” Her denial was too breathy to be truly effective, and Gabe laughed.
“No problem, my sweet. You don’t have to like me to enjoy fucking me. Now, go and get dressed, and meet me in the living room in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait, or so help me I drag you out there like this or maybe naked.” He grinned at her simmering outrage. “I’m sure my men would enjoy the view.”
“You wouldn’t dare?”
Gabe threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, my sweet, never dare the monster.”
Where to Buy
About the Author
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, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Lea Bronsen’s hot new interracial romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, Lea!
Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog!
I got the idea for this story after watching a video of French “globe cooker” Fred Chesneau visiting nomads in the Moroccan desert. They generously shared their food, home, and wisdom with a stranger, and I thought it would be cool to write about a female rally driver having the same experience.
A Thorned Rose in the Sand is set in the beautiful, quiet dunes of western Sahara where the sun is so hot you can’t walk barefooted and you could go miles and miles without seeing a single soul. In this story, you’ll meet a badass 450cc rally motorcycle, an opinionated but gentle dromedary, and two highly strong-willed young persons from opposite sides of the planet who get off to a bad start then can’t keep their hands off each other 😊
When life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a motorcycle rally across Morocco. But the real excitement is found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert.
After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. He dreams of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty biker stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.
The girl screamed behind him. “Eeeeee!”
Too hard to resist. Until now, Ragab had had a difficult time respecting her privacy, but surely, a scream called for attention. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he didn’t check on a woman in distress?
He spun and found her kneeling on her jacket, nude and wet, arms outstretched in shock. He bit down a laugh. Yes, the deep well water was cold, but one got used to it, and in the extreme heat of the desert, it was a blessing.
She turned, caught him staring, and even though he couldn’t see anything inappropriate, she hurried to cover her breasts and pubic area. “Look away!” she shouted, voice panicky.
The laugh bubbled inside him, but he obediently turned back to the motorcycle—then stood in such a way he could see her reflection in one of the side mirrors.
Oh, it was like watching a porn scene. Her long, red curls hung wild over her back and round, white butt cheeks. Every time she moved, a portion of her breasts appeared in the space between her ribs and arms. Such perfect feminine curves, all over. Imagine if he saw the front…
Blood rushed to his groin. Stiffening, bothered, he tore from the sight, walked over to the well, and leaned against its waist-high wall, hoping the hardness of the bricks and coolness from the water below would temper his arousal before it became a full-blown erection.
He strained to hear.
Splashes. Muffled squeals. More splashes.
He turned slowly and stole a glance from the corner of his eye.
She washed her panties and black top in the bucket and leaned forward to spread them in the sun. Her position exposed the dark pink lips of her sex, from the tiny hole in her butt to the end of her slit, where her clitoris hid.
Shocked to his core, he turned back and groaned low, his cock hardening again.
He closed his eyes, drew long, slow breaths to calm the painful throbbing and counted minutes, trying to think of something else.
His dromedary, for example. It would be cool to show her how to ride it. What if he rode another one, and they both galloped on the dunes together, she laughing, ecstatic…
Then they’d roll in the sand, and he would tease her thighs apart and slide his hungry hardness into her dark pink lips, to the wet bottom of her. Oh, yes.
She called, “Ready?”
He risked a glance in her direction.
Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean—she strolled to the motorcycle, carrying a bag and her clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tanks, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor.
Not once looking at him.
Where to Buy
Add the book to your shelf on Goodreads
See photos that inspired me to write the book on Pinterest
About the Author
Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Allyson Young’s hot new Romance On The Go™ Impossible, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, Allyson!
Both being extremely independent and familiar with rejection, Celeste Hill and Elliot Godwin have a short but intense time together, something very special.
She heads off to a coveted job, leaving him to puzzle out how he might pursue a connection he’d never dreamed of having. And, despite pursuing her dream, Celeste can’t stop thinking about Elliot and what might have been.
Returning home before he can follow her, she tells him they are pregnant. Impossible. Believing he’s sterile, the reason his wife left him, Elliot is devastated—and lashes out. Celeste flees his cruel words, putting distance between them, and now determined not to name him as the father of their child.
But miracles do happen and men can come to their senses. Elliot follows his heart and Celeste again opens hers for their happily ever after.
Knowing the majority of her response was hormone-fueled did nothing to mitigate the meltdown. How hard had she held herself against the news until now, sharing with no one but him? Forgoing the acceptance and excitement of her friends and family… Doing the right thing, notifying the father first. She sobbed and choked until she thought her throat would tear and her lungs collapse, her cheeks raw with the deluge. Her baby… She pressed a hand against her abdomen, whispering a heartfelt reassurance. Not about you, sweetheart. I love you.
It felt like hours but was, in reality, a few short minutes before she wrestled back her composure, albeit as a soggy wreck of exhaustion.
Impossible. She’d sorted out the reasoning—and ensuing rejection—behind his flat comment in short order. But it wasn’t impossible. He was capable regardless of what he believed. The tiny seed in her belly was living proof.
But it didn’t matter. He thought she’d come to him, pregnant with another man’s child, to cadge… She couldn’t bear to think of what he thought of her. His opinion didn’t matter either. Asshole.
Fumbling for a wad of tissues, she mopped up what remained of her makeup and took a shuddering breath, pushing any thought of Elliot Godwin from her head.
A tap on the window drew a muffled shriek as she started, turning to stare at his unwelcome bulk hunched over her little car, his handsome face only inches away. His silvery eyes were narrowed, cold and impenetrable, not at all like the turbulent wash of emotion when he’d been as deep inside her as any man could be in a woman. Planting their child.
As emotionally drained as she was, she couldn’t help the faint shiver of that arousing memory before dispatching it. Stupid hormones.
She eased the window down a notch. “What?”
His gaze took in her face and she knew what he saw. She never cried prettily, but then she rarely cried. Make that never. Tears were for the weak. He would know that.
“Are you all right?”
Like he cared. She was a slut, remember? Well, maybe not—Elliot didn’t judge, at least about consenting adults sexing things up. So, what then? What was a woman called who tried to stick a guy with a kid that wasn’t his? Something far worse in his eyes, for sure.
“I’m fine.” She whirred the window back up and threw the vehicle into gear.
With cautious regard to his proximity, she drove forward and then guided the car back onto the pavement, ignoring his tall form in the mirror.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. she has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one.
A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017, along with her alter ego and three co-authors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense genres–50 books in total.
Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and she favours the darker side of romance.
Ever do something really, really dumb?
When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.
With the help of a strategic lie and an Oscar-winning knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to L.M. Spangler, whose new Romance on the Go™ story My Ex-Partner’s Ex-Wife is now out from Evernight Publishing. Take it away, L.M.!
Ridley Asher found herself unemployed. Jack Sterling needed an administrative assistant. No brainer, right?
Ridley became Sterling Motor’s administrative assistant…and the object of Jack’s desire. He had no idea the attraction was mutual.
After an incident involving her ex-husband, they grow closer, both mentally and physically. Little do they know, her ex has no intentions of letting her go.
Can they explore a life together even though she’d once belonged to someone else?
“Thanks, Jack. I know this might be awkward for you,” Ridley Asher said. “You never hung around us much.”
She had no idea. Jack’s libido went into overdrive every time he’d see her. Even in the presence of Dean Asher. Ridley was temptation with a capital T. Curvaceous, stunning, exotic. A man’s fantasy.
And his ex-partner’s ex-wife.
“It’s no big deal, Ridley. You need a job and Sterling Motors needs an administrative assistant. You win, and I definitely win. I’m organized when it comes to restoring cars, but I can’t organize this business to save my life.” He’d just walk around the shop with a raging woody for eight or so hours a day.
“Umm. Wha-what about Dean?” Her ocean-blue eyes searched Jack’s. A frown turned her full lips downward.
Her response bothered him. Ridley deserved to smile. “Dean doesn’t play into this. This is purely a business decision. You have the skill set I need and you understand the restoration process. You literally know the nuts and bolts of a job.” He leaned back in his beat-up leather desk chair, elbows on the arms, and steepled his fingers. “I will let Dean know I hired you. Just to avoid any surprises.”
She nodded. “Fair enough,” she admitted, wringing her fingers. “I hope I don’t put you in a bad situation, but I appreciate you hiring me. I can’t believe the firm closed down. We were in the green every quarter I worked there.”
“I’m not sure, but their loss is my gain.” He rose from his chair, reaching his full height of six-feet-two. He leaned his head from side to side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. “I know this is spur of the moment, but can you start today? You’re already here.”
“I could, but I have Dozer with me.”
A brow rose. “Dozer?” A large piece of construction equipment popped into his mind.
A soft smile graced her face, adding alluring beauty to an already exquisite face. “My very large yellow Labrador retriever.”
He gave a mental eye roll. Dean had mentioned that she couldn’t find a man so she’d gotten a dog instead. Jack seriously doubted she had trouble finding men. His mechanics and metal workers stopped whatever they were doing and watched her walk to Jack’s office. A magnet had nothing on her.
“He’s welcome here. Three of my men bring their dogs with them. My only rule is they have to wear a fire retardant vest when they are around sparks or blow torches.”
“Again, fair enough.” She rose from the chair opposite Jack’s desk and maneuvered around the beat-up metal piece of furniture. She laid her hand on his arm and stood on her tiptoes. “Thank you, Jack. I’m glad Denny gave me the heads up on the job.” Her lips brushed his ever so softly, probably not to entice, but to show her gratitude.
Every nerve ending in Jack Sterling’s body roared to life. She returned to her chair and leaned over to pick up her purse. Her jeans hugged her heart-shaped bottom to perfection. Erotic pictures filled his mind.
Where To Buy
About the Author
LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.
She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Suzy Shearer’s hot new BDSM romance Her Dom’s Secret Past, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online fiction. Take it away, Suzy!
For fifty-two-year-old John Ethan, going on a short vacation to recover from injury and moving to Australia comes rather fast. Imagine his surprise when he meets a woman who arouses his every desire.
Their holiday romance ignites fires in them both and this is something real, something long-lasting. But when Anabelle has to leave suddenly, neither has a way of finding the other again.
Will they ever be able to locate each other? And if they do, then John must reveal a secret, a secret that he fears Anabelle will never understand.
I let my gaze roam all over her body, exciting me more. She was perfect in every way. I loved all her soft curves, or as she called them, “her wiggly bits”. I drank her in and crooked my finger, beckoning her closer. With only a little help from me, I made her climb onto the kitchen bench then set my stool between her legs. Today, I intended to make her wait. I was going to take her to the edge and back as many times as I could.
Placing my hands on each thigh, I moved each leg apart and pulled her until she was right on the edge of the bench, at the perfect height for me. Running a finger up and down, I discovered she wasn’t a little moist, she was extremely wet. I let her rich juices coat my finger and licked it.
“If you’re a good girl, I may let you come.” Her beautiful green eyes widened in shock.
“You heard. Right now I’m in charge, so relax and enjoy.”
Cupping my hand, I pushed a finger into her hot wet cunt while I leaned forward and breathed in deep. God, I loved the smell of her arousal. It was sweet. It added to my excitement. She was intoxicating. I licked her. She gave a little sigh. Right, time to tease.
Using my fingers and my mouth, I fucked her until she tensed, and then I stopped. Glancing up into her face, it was a picture. I could tell she was excited, but at the same time a little annoyed. I waited until I knew the urge to climax had subsided. Then I began licking and fucking again. She leaned back on her elbows and began those little mewling sounds that she made.
I loved them!
Taking her to the edge time and time again, I could tell how frustrated she was as she pouted at me. I wondered simply how much longer it would be before she demanded her orgasm. I was enjoying myself a lot. The downside was I had a hard-on that was now painfully pressed against my shorts.
Ah, the things we do for love.
This time, when she was hovering on the edge, she tried to bring her legs together to keep my hand inside her. I laughed and shook my head. She bit her bottom lip and I figured this next time I’d let her come. Once more, I pushed a finger inside her, then another. In and out of that cunt. I loved the squishy noises it made as I began sucking and biting at her clit. She moaned louder and louder as the beginnings of her orgasm started again.
Her demanding scream echoed across the kitchen as I sucked on that bead. Drawing it in, I bit down hard with my mouth. If we ever got into a real Dom-sub relationship, she’d learn to behave. Still, at the moment, we were only two people enjoying each other’s bodies.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her book Build A Love was runner-up in the Ménage category in the Easy Chair Bookshop’s Fiction competition 2015 and A Hunter’s Heart was runner-up in the Series Category. Perfect Three reached #20 on Amazon’s Top Paid 100 Bestsellers in the erotic/interracial category while Build A Love was #8 on Amazon’s list in the erotic/ménage category.
In 2017 Suzy was nominated for the Best Established Author in the Australian Romance Today Readers’ Choice Award. She made it through all the rounds to reach the finals. She came 8th in that final round against some extremely talented and well-known Australian Romance Authors.
A Buddhist, Suzy is single and lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney, Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company.
Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it’s important for readers to connect. When she discovered many romance books seemed to cater for younger readers with their heroines and heroes in the 20s she decided to write about characters who were older but maybe not always wiser. As she is in her 60s Suzy feels she can relate to her characters desires, fears and hopes and hopes her readers can as well.
Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn’t mean they aren’t intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. Sexy isn’t just for the under 30s.
When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting. An accomplished watercolour artist, her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to London Saint James, whose new audiobook Forever & Always is now out. Take it away, London!
Hi! Thank you so much for having me on your blog today to chat about my brand new audiobook baby, Forever & Always. This is book two of my Two Hearts, One Soul Duet and continues where Always, book one left off, completing Winter (my heroines) story.
One of the things readers/listeners ask me quite often is where does the inspiration for my stories come from? My answer; from many things—dreams, music, art, conversations, places I’ve been, etc… But when it comes to this duet, my inspiration came from a question to myself after seeing a documentary about kids who clearly remembered events, people, and places they shouldn’t have known about and the belief of past lives.
What was the question(s) I asked myself?
What if there was such a thing as soul mates? One person you were meant to love? From there came, what if we met our soul mate, lost them, and found them again years later? Is soul transfer or reincarnation a possibility? Can love conquer death?
Now, it’s your turn to ponder. Is it possible? Do you believe in soul mates?
From international bestselling author London Saint James comes the final installment of Two Hearts, One Soul, a breathtaking story of two people who have always been connected, forever tied together by fate, by destiny, by unbreakable love.
With the media hell-bent on exposing Winter’s once private life, Cayden will do anything to protect her. But there’s more than just the voracious paparazzi conspiring against them.
Involved in an unprecedented web of strange events, and wound in a string of lies about to break with devastating consequences, Winter must battle ghosts from her past that threaten to harm the man she loves.
Faced with a choice she always knew would be inevitable, and a secret of her own, can the fairytale Winter’s been living with Cayden beat the odds of their reality and really come true?
Listen to a sample:
A breeze blew into the bedroom from the open balcony doors—crisp and clean. The details of winter lingered with just a hint of spring to come, giving the warm room a punch of coolness as early morning sun slanted across the foot of the bed, highlighting the sheets in disarray.
My gaze shifted over to Cayden, sitting at the writing desk, phone in hand, speaking to someone about his upcoming film shoot. When his current film was done, he would be heading to Vancouver.
Would I be going? I didn’t know.
Leaning my hip against the doorjamb of the bathroom, I watched him, how his body moved—the muscles that flexed in his arm when he picked up a script from the desk. He was quietly confident, his movements fluid. No doubt, Cayden was something to watch even in such mundane things.
So very much like Austin.
Walking quietly out of the bathroom, I went to him, not wishing to disturb him, but desperately wanting to touch the man of my dreams. In many ways, he still seemed unreal to me, as if he were an optical phenomenon that could liquefy into hazy lines of heat and disappear.
With the phone to his ear, Cayden turned and looked at me, his sapphire gaze roaming from the hair piled in a messy bun atop my head, to my bubble-gum-pink-painted toenails before he smiled.
My heart thrummed.
Reaching out, he pulled me onto his lap where I willingly went, and picked up a pen from beside my laptop. Then, he crooked his head, holding the handset to the cordless in place against his shoulder to free his other hand and took a hold of mine.
Curious, I wondered what he was up to.
Cayden turned my hand over, palm side up. Swiped his fingers softly over my palm once. Wrote, I Love U, boldly across it. And then he curled my fingers closed, securing the words tight within the palm of my hand before he moved his hands from mine and took hold of the handset again.
My heart, not to mention my body, felt as if it would explode from the joy those three little words inspired. But the fact he wrote them, tattooed them onto my skin, was simply the sweetest thing he could have done.
“Go ahead and e-mail it. I’ll take a look,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone.
There was a pause. A buzzing followed by another pause.
“Sure. Not a problem,” Cayden replied, motioning for me to get up.
When I did, he adjusted the hard, straight-backed desk chair as well himself, and patted his lap.
Wearing nothing but a towel, I straddled him, chest to chest, and placed my arms around his strong shoulders. “Good?” I mouthed.
He winked his approval.
I played with the ends of his hair, feeling the impressive bulge beneath his designer sweatpants jerk against my bare core.
Blood raced through my veins with a start.
“Yes,” Cayden said into the phone. “I’m planning on it, but we can talk about that later.”
There was another pause, more humming sounds, then one of his hands went to my backside and squeezed. “Okay, thanks,” Cayden said.
He hadn’t been talking to me, but to whoever was on the phone.
“I will. Enjoy your breakfast.” He punched the end button and placed the handset into the receiver on the desk.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your call. I realize it was business,” I said.
“You can ‘disturb’ me anytime, baby.”
Where To Buy
About the Narrators
If you have had the pleasure of listening to any of Tor Thom and Charley Ongel’s auidobooks, you’ve probably said to yourself, “Wow, they really work well together.” Part of their great vocal chemistry is sheer talent, but the other part is most likely due to the fact they are together. Yep. Tor and Charley are happily married and have been narrating and producing audiobooks for the last year and a half, gathering hordes of fans. And, yes, I’m a fangirl of their work, too!
You can find out more here:
About the Author
I live in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with a sexy, alpha-male hero of my very own and a spoiled, bossy fat cat. The stories I write have hot, protective men who love their women, and strong—even if they don’t realize they are strong—women who love and protect their men. The road to their Happily Ever Afters may not be easy, and they may have a little bit of angst, but they’ll get everything worked out, do a lot of kissing, and have some sizzling moments along the way.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Lynn Burke’s hot new romance Divulging Secrets, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online fiction. Take it away, Lynn!
Candace Lake’s testimony against her father landed her in the Witness Protection program. With a new identity comes a new beginning, one based on lies and loneliness. How can she find someone to share her future with when a relationship without trust at its foundation won’t stand the storms of life?
Tom Berkley didn’t expect his new tenant to make him question his solitary lifestyle in the backwoods of Maine. He also didn’t expect to be caught up in the secrets of her past that bring his own tragic ones to the forefront of his mind.
The sizzling chemistry between them can’t be ignored, but when the threats from Candace’s turbulent past catch up with her, can she trust Tom enough to protect her from the price on her head?
She set her wine down on the chair beside mine, and I didn’t breathe as she moved through the water, settling herself on my lap, her pussy mere inches from my throbbing cock. Mind blank, my hands moved on their own beneath the water, settling on her tiny waist and pulling her close. Our mouths collided.
So much for restraint.
She ground herself against my cock and tangled her fingers in my hair, moaning. “I want you so bad it hurts, Tom.” Breasts pressed against my chest, she attacked my lips again.
I couldn’t form the words to tell her I felt the same, my mind was so damn focused on the feel of her curves against me. The taste of her mouth. My hands slid down her ass, squeezing and holding her still as my hips moved, thrusting my cock against her softness.
Candace reached between us and grasped me through my swim trunks. I grunted as she squeezed. “I want you inside of me,” she murmured against my lips and slid her hand beneath my waist band.
“Fuck.” My head fell back as her hand closed around me, skin on skin. Talk about seeing fucking stars. I thrust into her grasp, gone.
She wiggled and tugged, yanking my shorts down enough to free my hard length.
“I-I can’t do this,” I heard myself whisper.
“Yes, you can,” she whispered against my ear, moving her hips forward. She’d untied her fucking bathing suit bottoms.
I groaned a few curses as she rubbed her bare pussy against me, her blue eyes overcome by the black of her pupils.
She lifted and lined up my cock, sinking down an inch before I could breathe.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Hello, lovelies! This week I don’t really have anything appropriate to tease you with, so I’m going to feature the delightful Lynn Burke and her hot new entry in her Elite Escorts series, Zero Tolerance. Read on for some smouldering action!
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
As the owner of Elite Escorts, Micah Fox’s material needs are met, but money isn’t everything. Watching his friends all settle down makes him realize he needs a woman of his own. The one thrust into his life, however, is unable to tolerate physical contact. Not exactly the ideal submissive he can dominate. Can he truly be happy without kink in his life?
Faced with her new boss, Jasmine Swift experiences a hunger to touch—and be touched—for the first time in twelve years. Psychological baggage from her childhood has always hindered any hope of a normal relationship, let alone one with a man as dominant as Micah. Passion flares to life between them, however, and Jasmine blossoms under Micah’s touch.
When her past returns to haunt her present, it threatens everything. Love and peace can be found in true submission if only Jasmine can trust her Sir.
Tense silence zapped between us, but she didn’t lower her head like usual when she seemed uncomfortable. Her pale-green eyes peered at me with a hint of question. Insecurity. But the pupils dominated, and the pulse jumped in her neck.
“Have you dreamed about me touching you?” I heard myself ask.
So much for inappropriate.
“Yes,” she whispered.
I wouldn’t touch her, but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to enjoy every fucking inappropriate bit of information I could get passed her lips. “How?”
“You mean how do you touch me in my dreams?” Her low, husky voice rushed the blood to my cock, but I didn’t bother trying to hide the fact she turned me on.
“Gently.” She swallowed, but held my gaze. “With your fingertips until I grow accustomed to your touch.”
“Where do I touch you?” My voice sounded strangled in my ears.
“Here.” She lifted her hand and glanced at her palm.
“Where else? Put your wine down and show me.” I relaxed back into the chair, legs spread, giving her an eyeful of the hard ridge lining my jeans.
Her attention drifted down between my legs, her lips parting on a sharp inhale as her trembling hand set the wine glass on the table beside her. When she sat back, she uncrossed her legs, but kept her thighs together, the darkness beneath the skirt beckoning to me. “H-here.” She trailed her fingers up her arm, over her collarbone where she lingered. Up her neck. Over her lips.
I groaned. “Where else do I touch you?”
She swallowed, gaze still on my cock, and ran her hand back down her neck and over the swell of her breasts.
“Show me.” My Dom voice took over, and she followed the command without hesitation, slipping her hand up inside her tank top.
Lower lip between her teeth, she squirmed on the couch, same as when I’d caught her drooling over sex toys online.
“Is my touch still gentle?” I asked, my attention glued to the hand moving beneath her shirt, hiding one of the hard nipples pressing against the cotton.
“N-not so much.” Her needy tone brought another groan to my lips.
“What else do I do in your dreams?”
Face red, she closed her eyes. “You suck on my breasts. Bite my nipples.”
“And do you like it?”
“Yes,” she gasped and clenched her legs together.
Fucking heaven, I mused, watching her touch her breasts. I’d never wanted a woman so much in my fucking life. “Are you turned on right now?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Where else do I touch you, Jasmine?”
Fuck, yes. “Lift your skirt and show me.” Every tense muscle in my body ached to move, but I held myself still. Waiting.
She didn’t even hesitate, but shimmied the skirt up to her hips.
Pink, fucking panties.
With one finger, she skimmed down the lace covering her pussy from me.
“Goddamn,” I groaned, my own fingers digging into my knees.
She slid her fingertip beneath the edge of her panties and rubbed up over her clit, a gasp parting her lips and tipping her head back.
I found myself stroking my cock through my jeans. “Do I make you come in your dreams, Jasmine?”
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still clenched shut.
“Show me how.”
With one hand, she pulled her panties to the side. Pink lips glistened beneath a thatch of blonde curls.
Drooling, I stroked myself and stared as she pressed two fingers of her right hand into her pussy.
She moaned, slowly fucking herself with her fingers, hips grinding her against her hand.
“I want to watch you come, Jasmine,” I murmured, lifting my attention to her face as little noises flew past her parted lips. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Panting, she did as told, hazed, pale-green eyes peering my way. A sharp inhale lifted her chest, and her back bowed off my couch. “O-oh!” Her breath caught again, and she shuddered, crying out. I squeezed my cock to keep from blowing my load in my jeans, my blood rushing and ears ringing as she slowly settled, her breaths slowing. “If you ever decide you want me to touch you for real,” I murmured, “you only need to ask.”
Third Wheel: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/third-wheel.html
Second Go-Round: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/second-go-round.html
First Time: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/first-time.html
Where to Buy
About the Author
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to view this Linky Tools list…