Some things are best left unseen...
October 31, 2014
October 29, 2014
A Pre-Halloween Treat! 'Knot Intended' by Karenna Colcroft. A Husband and Wife Take Role Playing To The Next Level In This Erotic Contemporary Romp.
No matter how good someone’s marriage is, every once in a while, things get a little stale. After you’ve been together for a few years, things like careers and sometimes kids can get in the way of focusing on your spouse. And the longer you’re married, the further in the past the “can’t keep my hands off you” days get.
That doesn’t mean couples should simply let their marriages stagnate, though. When you start settling in, it’s important to work even harder to keep things fun, interesting—and especially hot.
In my novella Knot Intended, Nolie and Joseph have only been married for a few years, but they’ve already started letting their careers take priority over their marriage. Neither is happy about it, but neither really knows what to do about it, until Joseph suggests sexual roleplaying.
At first, Nolie thinks her husband has lost his mind. She never even liked wearing Halloween costumes as a kid, let alone pretending to be someone she isn’t. But when she admits her darkest fantasy to Joseph, he’s fascinated by Nolie’s desire to be “kidnapped” and sexually used by her “captor.” And he promises to make that fantasy come true.
Even though Joseph and Nolie have let their marriage and sex life slide, Joseph loves his wife enough to go to great lengths to become her fantasy “kidnapper” and bring the fire back to their bedroom. And Nolie is thrilled by how much Joseph is willing to do to get their marriage back on track.
Knot Intended releases November 18, 2014 from Loose Id, http://www.loose-id.com. Here’s the blurb and a short excerpt:
Nolie and Joseph are happily married, but their careers have taken priority over their time together, and sex has grown stale. When Joseph suggests roleplaying to spice things up, Nolie is resistant, until Joseph offers to fulfill her darkest fantasy.
Just when Nolie thinks Joseph has forgotten their discussion, someone breaks into their home. Someone wearing a mask, but with Joseph’s eyes and voice. Joseph, playing the role of the kidnapper in Nolie’s fantasy. Nolie can’t begin to guess what her mild-mannered husband will do next in their game–and that’s exciting as hell.
EXCERPT:
Nolie nodded and tried to meet Joseph’s gaze. Waiting for time to magically be available was what they’d been doing. And when they did have enough time, sometimes they simply slept instead of fucking. Joseph was right. They needed to be interested in sex—in each other—again if they wanted to keep their sex life from trickling down the drain.
“Spice things up,” she said. Too bad I have no clue how to do that. She hoped Joseph would have some thoughts. “Okay, I agree with you. Did you have something in mind?”
“Role-playing,” he said without hesitating.
Nolie yanked her hand out of his and shook her head. Of course Joseph had a solution. She just hadn’t expected it to be one so far outside her comfort zone.
As a kid, she hadn’t even liked dressing up for Halloween. She’d always felt stupid walking around pretending to be something she wasn’t. She’d never been able to figure out why it bothered her, but she’d always avoided any type of costume and acting.
Joseph knew it. Their first Halloween together he’d wanted matching costumes, and she had flat out refused to even consider it. And now he was suggesting they do something that would make her feel like a complete idiot while they tried to make their sex life better.
What the hell is he thinking?
She couldn’t prevent the sarcasm that thickened her tone. “Yeah, okay. What are we going to do? Go out and buy cute little costumes? Sorry, Joseph, not interested.”
He gave her a tolerant smile, which did nothing to lessen her irritation. She stared back at him until he looked down at his hands.
“I had a feeling you might react that way,” he said. “Some couples like role-playing. We don’t have to wear costumes. Role-playing isn’t about dressing up. It’s about fulfilling fantasies. Think about it, Nolie. Don’t you ever imagine anything sexy? Hot little cheerleader with the football coach or something?”
“Being a teenager again? Hardly.” The idea turned her stomach, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask whether Joseph had a thing for cheerleaders. “I pretty much prefer reality. The only other thing I ever think about—”
She snapped her mouth shut. She’d never discussed her fantasies with Joseph before. At first, reality had been hotter than anything Nolie could have imagined. Now, they barely had time to talk about anything, and with the decrease in their time together, their sex life had cooled. Now, more often than not, it was perfunctory. Even Joseph’s changing of positions during sex followed the same sequence.
And when she masturbated, her favorite daydream was dark and disturbing. Not something she had ever contemplated sharing with her quiet, vanilla husband. But he wanted to spice up their sex life, and this would definitely accomplish that, if she dared to tell him about it.
Some fantasies were better off never becoming reality, and this might turn out to be one of them. But the only way to find out was to try.
~~~~~~
Publisher Website: http://www.loose-id.com
Karenna Colcroft’s website: http://www.karennacolcroft.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/karenna.colcroft
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/karennacolcroft
Tumblr: http://karennacolcroft.tumblr.com/
October 27, 2014
The Invitation Unlocked A World Of Pleasure. The Explosive Conclusion Of The Release Series; 'The Invitation' by Roxy Sloane. A Seductive Erotic M/F Contemporary Romance.
Plus A Free Amazon Giveaway!
Blurb:
The invitation unlocked a world of pleasure — but the game is only just beginning…
He promised me an adventure. I had no idea what lay in store. Now, I know his name, and everything has changed.
I want to trust him, but his secrets could ruin us both. I need to know what he’s hiding – before it’s too late.
I’ve already risked everything for his love. Now, I’m playing to win.
Are you ready?
Excerpt:
Suddenly, his hand is on my arm, pulling me back around. “Don’t go.”
I look up. My breath catches. He’s looking at me intensely. Desire and desperation in his eyes.
How dare he?
He steps forward, slowly pushing me back against the wall. I should shove back, walk out of here and leave him behind forever, but for some reason, I can’t move.
His heat rolls through me. His scent hits like a drug. And most of all, the sheer overwhelming presence of him keeps me pinned in place. Strong. Determined.
Hungry.
My eyes flutter shut and I breathe him in.
I hate him.
“Please…” I whisper, and even I don’t know what I’m asking. For him to let me go, or turn me around and fuck me right here up against the wall, like the very first time.
He dips his head closer, until I can feel his breath, hot on my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice rasping. “I’ll let you go. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
------
*The explosive conclusion to the seductive new series*
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23116058-the-invitation?ac=1
Purchase:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Roxy-Sloane/e/B00KMARA92/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1414176788&sr=8-1
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-invitation-3-roxy-sloane/1120364514?ean=2940046156553
AUTHOR BIO:
Roxy Sloane is a romance junkie with a dirty mind. She lives in Los Angeles with her hot ex-military hubby and her two kids. She loves writing sexy, complex stories about pushing the boundaries and risking it all.
Author links:
https://www.facebook.com/roxysloaneauthor
https://twitter.com/Roxy_Sloane
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8178850.Roxy_Sloane
Faced With a Future Version Of Herself And Decision She Does Not Want To Make, Heather Is Set For The Worst Journey Of Her Life. Read Stolen Desire, A Sexy Scifi Romance By Barbara Donlon Bradley,
Blurb:
When Heather is confronted with her time traveling self she fears the worse. The woman came to warn them of a terrible accident but something isn’t right. The visitors her future self says are there to help only wants to kidnap her and kill her mate.
Using her mind she tries to protect her friends and family. Yet she wakes up as a prisoner after seeing the ship Storm is in blow up. She is now alone, and trapped.
Somehow she has to figure out a way home and hopefully reverse all the horrible things that have taken her family from her.
Excerpt:
Heather sighed as she opened her eyes and stretched. Before she could move she felt a warm hand on her breast.
“I see you’re awake.” Storm’s breath brushed against her cheek.
She looked up at her mate, who had a knowing smile on his face. “And I see you are awake too.” She was referring to the erection pressed against her hip.
“True, but I can’t help it when I have such a wonderful partner lying beside me.” Storm nibbled against her throat. “We still have time before we need to be anywhere.”
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” She smiled as he settled himself between her thighs. “You could have had all the time you want if you had.”
“Because the twins aren’t allowing you to get enough sleep yet. I don’t mind watching you sleep when I know you need it. It gives me time to appreciate having you in my life.” He dipped his head to her mark. “And waking you up this way is an anticipation I look forward to. I don’t mind stretching that out a little.”
“Because you know what will happen when I wake.”
“That is the best part.”
She felt him smile against her neck as he pulled the soft tissue of her mark into his mouth before he worked his way down her body.
“You are incorrigible.”
“And that is why I’m your heart.” His tongue lathed her nipple before drawing the tip into his mouth. She arched up against him and he slipped his hands under her.
A growl escaped him when they were interrupted by the computer system. “Heather, you have a communiqué from Admiral Barrister.”
She sighed again. This time in frustration. What did he want now?
“The last time he contacted us you ended up being whipped.” Storm blew against the tip before he climbed back up her body. “I’m inclined to not let you answer him.”
“Storm, I’m still part of Earth’s security.” She looked up at him, his face only inches above hers. “I can’t ignore him.”
--------
Buy Links:
Phaze Books – http://phaze.com/book.php?title=Stolen+Desire
ARe - https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-stolendesire-1584216-143.html
Bio:
Writing for Barbara Donlon Bradley started innocently enough, like most she kept diaries, journals, and wrote an occasional letter but she also had a vivid imagination and wrote scenes and short stories adding characters to her favorite shows and comic books.
As time went on she found the passion for writing to be a strong drive for her. Humor is also very strong in her life. No matter how hard she tries to write something deep and dark, it will never happen. That humor bleeds into her writing.
Since she can’t beat it she has learned to use it to her advantage. Now she lives in Tidewater Virginia with two cats, one mother in law – whose 87 now, her husband and son.
Author Sites:
Website: http://www.barbaradonlonbradley.com/
Publisher: http://www.phaze.com/author.php?author=21
Blog: http://barbaradonlonbradley.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Barbara-Donlon-Bradley/118673448173249
Twitter: https://twitter.com/barbbradley
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/barbaradbradley/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7773192-barbara-bradley
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0072OTZJE
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Barbara-donlon-bradley
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Barbara+Donlon+Bradley
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Search?Query=Barbara%20Donlon%20Bradley
Shelfari: http://www.shelfari.com/search/books?Keywords=barbara%20donlon%20bradley
Bio:
Writing for Barbara Donlon Bradley started innocently enough, like most she kept diaries, journals, and wrote an occasional letter but she also had a vivid imagination and wrote scenes and short stories adding characters to her favorite shows and comic books.
As time went on she found the passion for writing to be a strong drive for her. Humor is also very strong in her life. No matter how hard she tries to write something deep and dark, it will never happen. That humor bleeds into her writing.
Since she can’t beat it she has learned to use it to her advantage. Now she lives in Tidewater Virginia with two cats, one mother in law – whose 87 now, her husband and son.
Author Sites:
Website: http://www.barbaradonlonbradley.com/
Publisher: http://www.phaze.com/author.php?author=21
Blog: http://barbaradonlonbradley.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Barbara-Donlon-Bradley/118673448173249
Twitter: https://twitter.com/barbbradley
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/barbaradbradley/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7773192-barbara-bradley
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0072OTZJE
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Barbara-donlon-bradley
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Barbara+Donlon+Bradley
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Search?Query=Barbara%20Donlon%20Bradley
Shelfari: http://www.shelfari.com/search/books?Keywords=barbara%20donlon%20bradley
October 25, 2014
The Perfect Shoot (Hot Model Mine 1), A Contemporary, M/F, Erotic Romance by Lea Bronsen. A Tale Of Impossible Love, From The Hot Model Mine Series.
Thank you so much for having me on your blog!
Who hasn’t been infatuated with a sexy poster boy – actor, pop star, or football hero – even though he was unobtainable?
The heroine in my Hot Model Mine series is a thriving author and hard-working mother nearing her forties. Tough, independent, and having long ago lost faith in love, she dismisses her crush on the cover model of her book to protect herself.
What then can she do when that gorgeous young man surprisingly falls for her, too?
I hope you enjoy this tale of ‘impossible’ love, dead-honest and written with my heart.
BLURB:
When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly.
Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for the cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits...
EXCERPT:
An assistant calls Yushka’s name. Bare-chested, the Asian hunk appears from a group of models, strolls to the spotlights, and waits in front of the camera with the confident stance of a professional.
The whole place quiets as if in awe. He’s unbelievably beautiful with his tanned, bulging muscles and washboard-abs-to-die-for. When photographer Lemaître asks him to undo his hair, a black waterfall lands on his shoulders and down his back. A few muffled feminine squeals fill the silence.
One by one, authors whose books he appears on get a few pictures taken with him in flattering positions, wrapping their arms around his back or swallowed up in his embrace, beaming like schoolgirls at their first prom.
Jealousy rips through me so violently I can barely breathe, but my time is up soon, and I hate that even more. I’m non-photogenic, and seeing pictures of myself makes me sick. I’ve chosen a sexy, black top and matching short skirt for the occasion, but looking my best doesn’t help. My stomach ties in a knot.
“Cindy Vega,” an assistant calls.
Fuck, that’s me. I’m dead.
“Go,” Laurie says, giving me a small push.
All muscles tense, I leave my safe corner and join Yushka. He greets me with a placid face, but from the warmth in his pupils, I get a feeling he’s glad to see me. Side by side, narrowing our eyes from the piercing light, we face Lemaître and wait for orders.
Damn. Being so near Yushka’s naked torso is unbearable, as is the heat from the lamps shining on us. Sweat beads roll down the sides of my chest, between my breasts. He endures, too. A thin film of sweat coats his golden skin, making it glow, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
Lemaître clears his throat. “Bon. Stand a little closer. Cindy, this is for Eden Luna Publishing’s website. Officially, we want authors happily meeting their cover models, but off the record, we want sensual, we want heat. Readers will get off seeing your pictures like they do reading your books.”
Stiff as a rod, I nod agreement. I’d half expected this. Problem is, I hate being in the spotlight with so many people watching, and I hate the notion of having my photo all over the internet.
“Sooo,” he continues, “I will ask you to just stand like this, facing me, and smile. That is all. Yushka knows what he has to do.”
“Okay.”
Turning to my side, Yushka puts a hot hand on my stomach and the other on the small of my back. Though light, his touches destabilize me, as does the warm, musky scent sneaking to my nostrils.
“Closer,” Lemaître orders. “Bodily contact.”
Shit, I’m fucked.
The stud radiates heat as he approaches, sweaty chest sticking to my arm, heart beating against my skin. His crotch barely brushes my hip, but each pore in my body becomes acutely aware of him, on high alert. As last night’s intense arousal replays in all of me, my inner thighs clench with renewed want.
Whispers and low chuckles sound from both sides of the vast lobby. I try to forget the hundred eyes following my every move, but can’t help being distracted, bathed in full light and painfully self-conscious.
“That is better.” Like a shooting gun, Lemaître’s camera clicks and the flash blinds me repetitively. “Now, give him a smile, Cindy. You know the kind I want.”
My throat so dry I can’t speak, I turn to Yushka.
He’s very near, inches from my face, black pupils gleaming with mischief. Sweat pearls on his face, making him look sexier than ever. Long, black hairs glue to his forehead and cheeks. He smells of soap, his close shave making him look baby-faced.
Seemingly at ease, the heaving of his chest regular, he stares into my eyes. I can’t believe his confidence. Modelling is his profession, but how does he stay so fucking calm?
“You wanna give me a smile?” he whispers, warm breaths brushing my chin. Behind me, his large hand sneaks lower and palms my butt cheek. With that and his other fingers splaying on my stomach, he pulls me to him, making me feel the entire length and…hardness…of his cock on my hip.
I suck in a breath.
His lips curl up in a self-satisfied grin. “Hm, Andrea? You wanna give me a smile?”
Oh my fucking God. I can’t help but obey while my insides go up in flames.
Flashing his teeth, he kneads my ass with a strong hand and pushes his full erection against me. He knows what he’s doing, the devil. He knows slowly rubbing me with his cock turns my pussy to burning liquid.
Somewhere, a feminine gasp breaks the silence, followed by contained laughter.
“Très bien, we have a smile,” Lemaître says, camera clicking, flash shooting. “Thank you, Cindy, that will be enough. Next!”
Still grinning and holding my look, Yushka slowly backs off, leaving chillier air between us.
I’m frozen. In shock, lust, need.
“Come on, move it!” Lemaître calls. “We don’t have all day.”
No shit.
~~~~~~
BUY LINKS:
ABOUT LEA BRONSEN:
I like my reads fast, hot, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, erotic contemporary romance, and dripping erotica.
I love to hear from my readers! Send a mail to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:
Who hasn’t been infatuated with a sexy poster boy – actor, pop star, or football hero – even though he was unobtainable?
The heroine in my Hot Model Mine series is a thriving author and hard-working mother nearing her forties. Tough, independent, and having long ago lost faith in love, she dismisses her crush on the cover model of her book to protect herself.
What then can she do when that gorgeous young man surprisingly falls for her, too?
I hope you enjoy this tale of ‘impossible’ love, dead-honest and written with my heart.
BLURB:
When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly.
Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for the cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits...
EXCERPT:
An assistant calls Yushka’s name. Bare-chested, the Asian hunk appears from a group of models, strolls to the spotlights, and waits in front of the camera with the confident stance of a professional.
The whole place quiets as if in awe. He’s unbelievably beautiful with his tanned, bulging muscles and washboard-abs-to-die-for. When photographer Lemaître asks him to undo his hair, a black waterfall lands on his shoulders and down his back. A few muffled feminine squeals fill the silence.
One by one, authors whose books he appears on get a few pictures taken with him in flattering positions, wrapping their arms around his back or swallowed up in his embrace, beaming like schoolgirls at their first prom.
Jealousy rips through me so violently I can barely breathe, but my time is up soon, and I hate that even more. I’m non-photogenic, and seeing pictures of myself makes me sick. I’ve chosen a sexy, black top and matching short skirt for the occasion, but looking my best doesn’t help. My stomach ties in a knot.
“Cindy Vega,” an assistant calls.
Fuck, that’s me. I’m dead.
“Go,” Laurie says, giving me a small push.
All muscles tense, I leave my safe corner and join Yushka. He greets me with a placid face, but from the warmth in his pupils, I get a feeling he’s glad to see me. Side by side, narrowing our eyes from the piercing light, we face Lemaître and wait for orders.
Damn. Being so near Yushka’s naked torso is unbearable, as is the heat from the lamps shining on us. Sweat beads roll down the sides of my chest, between my breasts. He endures, too. A thin film of sweat coats his golden skin, making it glow, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
Lemaître clears his throat. “Bon. Stand a little closer. Cindy, this is for Eden Luna Publishing’s website. Officially, we want authors happily meeting their cover models, but off the record, we want sensual, we want heat. Readers will get off seeing your pictures like they do reading your books.”
Stiff as a rod, I nod agreement. I’d half expected this. Problem is, I hate being in the spotlight with so many people watching, and I hate the notion of having my photo all over the internet.
“Sooo,” he continues, “I will ask you to just stand like this, facing me, and smile. That is all. Yushka knows what he has to do.”
“Okay.”
Turning to my side, Yushka puts a hot hand on my stomach and the other on the small of my back. Though light, his touches destabilize me, as does the warm, musky scent sneaking to my nostrils.
“Closer,” Lemaître orders. “Bodily contact.”
Shit, I’m fucked.
The stud radiates heat as he approaches, sweaty chest sticking to my arm, heart beating against my skin. His crotch barely brushes my hip, but each pore in my body becomes acutely aware of him, on high alert. As last night’s intense arousal replays in all of me, my inner thighs clench with renewed want.
Whispers and low chuckles sound from both sides of the vast lobby. I try to forget the hundred eyes following my every move, but can’t help being distracted, bathed in full light and painfully self-conscious.
“That is better.” Like a shooting gun, Lemaître’s camera clicks and the flash blinds me repetitively. “Now, give him a smile, Cindy. You know the kind I want.”
My throat so dry I can’t speak, I turn to Yushka.
He’s very near, inches from my face, black pupils gleaming with mischief. Sweat pearls on his face, making him look sexier than ever. Long, black hairs glue to his forehead and cheeks. He smells of soap, his close shave making him look baby-faced.
Seemingly at ease, the heaving of his chest regular, he stares into my eyes. I can’t believe his confidence. Modelling is his profession, but how does he stay so fucking calm?
“You wanna give me a smile?” he whispers, warm breaths brushing my chin. Behind me, his large hand sneaks lower and palms my butt cheek. With that and his other fingers splaying on my stomach, he pulls me to him, making me feel the entire length and…hardness…of his cock on my hip.
I suck in a breath.
His lips curl up in a self-satisfied grin. “Hm, Andrea? You wanna give me a smile?”
Oh my fucking God. I can’t help but obey while my insides go up in flames.
Flashing his teeth, he kneads my ass with a strong hand and pushes his full erection against me. He knows what he’s doing, the devil. He knows slowly rubbing me with his cock turns my pussy to burning liquid.
Somewhere, a feminine gasp breaks the silence, followed by contained laughter.
“Très bien, we have a smile,” Lemaître says, camera clicking, flash shooting. “Thank you, Cindy, that will be enough. Next!”
Still grinning and holding my look, Yushka slowly backs off, leaving chillier air between us.
I’m frozen. In shock, lust, need.
“Come on, move it!” Lemaître calls. “We don’t have all day.”
No shit.
~~~~~~
BUY LINKS:
Add it
to your Goodreads
list!
ABOUT LEA BRONSEN:
I like my reads fast, hot, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, erotic contemporary romance, and dripping erotica.
I love to hear from my readers! Send a mail to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:
Website
| Facebook
profile | Facebook
page | Twitter |
Goodreads
| Amazon
| Smashwords
October 23, 2014
Will Murder and Corrupt Dealings Keep Two Lovers From Making It To The Alter? Deputy's Bride, Is A New Historical, Erotic Romance By Anita Philmar. Pre-Order Your Copy Now!
Hi, everyone, I'm so excited to tell you about the next book in my Naked Bluff, Texas series.
Remember back in book one "In Deep Water," we meet Texas Deputy Bo Kildare. Well, he's back in a book of his own. This story is a little longer than the first two books in the series.
What can I say, lawmen can be so demanding...
Blurb
Texas Deputy Bo Kildare is looking for a special kind of lady, one that is willing to meet his special requirements. No sweet little virgin will do, he wants a woman who knows how to please a man, perhaps two.
Recently widowed, Sarah Elizabeth Foster-LaFever has lived in the public eye for the last few years and wants out. Her reputation as Micah LaFever’s wife has left her penniless and without many viable options until Bo comes calling. Now, she believes she found the perfect man until her past rears its ugly head.
Can murder and corrupt dealings keep these two lovers from making it to the alter?
Excerpt:
“God, when is he going to get here,” Sarah muttered and strolled to the freestanding, oval mirror in the corner.
Critically, she examined her silk dressing gown’s high collar. Unable to breathe with every button running down the front of garment secured, she’d only connected a few at her waist. The dark red robe highlighted her creamy complexion and light blonde hair.
Through the open at the top, she viewed the curve of her breasts and the tight fit of her corset. The cream color almost matched her skin, creating the illusion that she was nude underneath. Tugging aside her wide skirt, she examined the long line of her legs. She’d opted to omit her bloomers. One, because with the fire raging in the fireplace, she was hot. Two, because she thought Mr. Kildare should get a glimpse of what he’d receive if he decided to make her his wife.
Granted from what Madeline had told Sarah, the man wanted more than a dutiful wife. He sounded as if he were more like her deceased husband. Micah enjoyed playing extreme bedroom games.
She frowned, thinking how much she’d missed sex in the last year. Not because she hadn’t had the chance to indulge. More because she hadn’t wanted to fall victim to the same power hungry crowd that Micah had belonged. She’d done enough for those bastards and she had no intentions of doing...
Knuckles hammered against her door.
Brushing a nervous hand over her hair, she offered up a silent prayer that everything would work out before she rushed back to the doorway. After a quick breathe, she asked, “Who is it?”
“Bo Kildare, I was sent by Madeline Cowden.”
A masculine tone rang from the other side.
His voice alone sent shivers racing over her skin. She flipped back the lock and inched open the door. “Yes, she said you might be stopping by.”
~~~~~~~
Pre-Order Links:
At Amazon - US | IN | UK
Bio:
Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.
Influenced by sci-fi programs, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where erotic moments come to life in a great read.
Naughty or Nice?
Read her books and decide.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.anitaphilmar.com/
Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com
Blog: http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/
FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar
GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar
FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/anitaphilmar
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Anita-Philmar/e/B002BMBE8C
Remember back in book one "In Deep Water," we meet Texas Deputy Bo Kildare. Well, he's back in a book of his own. This story is a little longer than the first two books in the series.
What can I say, lawmen can be so demanding...
Available Now For Pre-Order!
Release date is Oct. 31.
Release date is Oct. 31.
Blurb
Texas Deputy Bo Kildare is looking for a special kind of lady, one that is willing to meet his special requirements. No sweet little virgin will do, he wants a woman who knows how to please a man, perhaps two.
Recently widowed, Sarah Elizabeth Foster-LaFever has lived in the public eye for the last few years and wants out. Her reputation as Micah LaFever’s wife has left her penniless and without many viable options until Bo comes calling. Now, she believes she found the perfect man until her past rears its ugly head.
Can murder and corrupt dealings keep these two lovers from making it to the alter?
Excerpt:
“God, when is he going to get here,” Sarah muttered and strolled to the freestanding, oval mirror in the corner.
Critically, she examined her silk dressing gown’s high collar. Unable to breathe with every button running down the front of garment secured, she’d only connected a few at her waist. The dark red robe highlighted her creamy complexion and light blonde hair.
Through the open at the top, she viewed the curve of her breasts and the tight fit of her corset. The cream color almost matched her skin, creating the illusion that she was nude underneath. Tugging aside her wide skirt, she examined the long line of her legs. She’d opted to omit her bloomers. One, because with the fire raging in the fireplace, she was hot. Two, because she thought Mr. Kildare should get a glimpse of what he’d receive if he decided to make her his wife.
Granted from what Madeline had told Sarah, the man wanted more than a dutiful wife. He sounded as if he were more like her deceased husband. Micah enjoyed playing extreme bedroom games.
She frowned, thinking how much she’d missed sex in the last year. Not because she hadn’t had the chance to indulge. More because she hadn’t wanted to fall victim to the same power hungry crowd that Micah had belonged. She’d done enough for those bastards and she had no intentions of doing...
Knuckles hammered against her door.
Brushing a nervous hand over her hair, she offered up a silent prayer that everything would work out before she rushed back to the doorway. After a quick breathe, she asked, “Who is it?”
“Bo Kildare, I was sent by Madeline Cowden.”
A masculine tone rang from the other side.
His voice alone sent shivers racing over her skin. She flipped back the lock and inched open the door. “Yes, she said you might be stopping by.”
~~~~~~~
Pre-Order Links:
At Amazon - US | IN | UK
Bio:
Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.
Influenced by sci-fi programs, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where erotic moments come to life in a great read.
Naughty or Nice?
Read her books and decide.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.anitaphilmar.com/
Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com
Blog: http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/
FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar
GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar
FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/anitaphilmar
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Anita-Philmar/e/B002BMBE8C
October 22, 2014
Blitz for Book 3 In the Paranormal Erotic Romance 'The Siren Series;' Brandon by NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author Marata Eros. Enter For Your Chance To Win A Free Prize!
Enter For Your Chance To Win:
A signed copy of The SIREN Series 3: BRANDON
Plus
25$ Amazon Gift Card
Ode to the Three Star Reviewer
This is a love letter of sorts. Anyone who's ever bothered to check out my blog, Facebook or twitter sites knows that I'm positive, assertive and command a great respect for my readers (and all other supporters). Some authors won't make the ballsy move to say anything about reviewers because we're terrified of offending anyone by accident and getting labeled as one of “those” authors. Well, no need to worry about that, guys. I'm not one of “those.”
I'm a normal chick whose day job is writing. I'm a wife, a mother of four, and daydream from mind to paper. It's not complicated. I'm not here to spread negativity so rest assured, the words that follow are positive, truthful and from the heart. It's all good.
This month I'd like to touch on reviewers. I love my readers; I am one. I read about 3-4 books per week and understand my taste intimately, select accordingly and won't go past 10% [eReader] on any work unless it engages me. Since I'm a niche writer... well, that typically means I don't like “broad” work. However, there's exceptions, like BEAUTIFUL DISASTER. I loved that work and its wide appeal cannot be denied. The one that took the rug out from underneath me was the wonderfully dark, poignant and clearly controversial CJ Roberts masterpiece, CAPTIVE in the DARK. Wow. Just- wow.
So- I understand your pain. I read, I select, and I... critique.
What? You don't like everything you read? The short answer is: no.
However, as a writer, your constructive criticisms are helpful. I won't lie: I adore the fives stars, the one stars are tough... the three stars are [typically] informative. As an artist I don't “learn” much from that wide pendulum, though I appreciate every review. Appreciate doesn't mean like or dislike, it's a nod to the time it took that reader to voice their thoughts in a tangible way. Stephen King once said: “The worst advice? ‘Don’t listen to the critics.’ I think that you really ought to listen to the critics, because sometimes they’re telling you something is broken that you can fix.”
Okay, King is The Master. Since we write, we need to listen to our readers so we can continue to improve our work: the craft of writing. Everyone's time is valuable and I don't ever dismiss readers who share their thoughts.
I love hearing what resonated in my work; I need to hear what didn't work just as much. Some things compromise the work and I can't alter those, but I can add things that readers need.
My break out dark romantic suspense, A TERRIBLE LOVE is a case in point. When I read some reviews where readers wanted to hear more back story, and just more “why,” I fleshed that out in the companion, A BRUTAL TENDERNESS. However, the intrinsic character's personalities must remain true to who they are, a product of what shaped them in the past, and what the present is feeding them. I usually use the rule of “3s.”
If I hear the same criticism three times (or the same “love”) I will emphasize the latter and improve the former.
I'll speak for all those who write: if you care about your words, you care about who's reading them. Altering your work to improve it for your reader while remaining true to your style isn't cheating, it's progressing.
Thank you so much for reading our work. Without you, they're just words on a page.
Blurb:
BRANDON is the sequel to CONSTANTINE of The SIREN Series.
Brandon, a Druid male warrior, has sought the call of the Mother, the sea’s endless summons something he can no longer ignore.
Leaving the Reaper vampire stronghold, he seeks those females who share his blood and unique calling. Brandon enters a battle between the mixed-blood Constantine, Kane of demon descent and Madden—a Mer who has the answers to the mystery of his lineage.
Left with more questions than answers, Brandon is shocked when he discovers a female that is mixed as he.
Can Brandon find answers to the questions that plague him? Or will his protection for the one female who calls to him circumvent the resolution he craves? When males from the opposing sects hunt him for what he possesses—can he call on his Druid counterparts to save everything he cares most about …
Excerpt:
Constantine smirks at his expression. “That's splendid, fish fuck. If you think I be without claim, come and get her.” Con laughs, looking at each pale face, dark eyes like obsidian coins in their faces. “Who wishes to be amongst the first to taste the Encourager?”
Five of the Mer retreat. The Faction hold still—waiting for the others to be the first meat the Encourager finds. They have tasted of such ancient methods and found it bitter.
Con's smile becomes a grin. “Eh? No takers? Excellent.”
“Constantine,” Ember says from behind him, the tunic pulls taut against his chest from the tightening of her grip.
His eyes sharpen in the gloom.
Fuck me.
A Druid moves into the opening between trees and sea and Constantine whips the Encourager.
“Do not get any clever ideas about a rush, my Druid friend.”
He cracks the tip of the Encourager and it sings in the stillness between the groups, snapping upon the final second with a metallic pop.
The Mer flinch, the Faction remaining like statues.
The Druid male vampire does not.
The Mer are not near as cowed as Con would like, their knuckles bleeding to white around the grips of their tridents.
Con's gaze shifts to the demon, Kane.
“Do you be with us or against us?”
“I am with anyone who would save a breeder,” the young Druid male says.
Kane's anger tightens his eyes. “Aye, I am with you, mixed-blood.”
Constantine rolls his eyes. Prejudice devil. A dark chuckle escapes.
“It is three against five, you will not have Ember. You cannot defeat us with the Mother this near.”
“What of the Faction who mill about?” Constantine asks Madden.
Madden gestures to the tumbling waves at their back. His face says give up.
Like Hades I will.
------
Purchase:
AUTHOR BIO:
Marata Eros (a pen name for Tamara Rose Blodgett), is the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author of A Terrible Love. Marata has more than thirty-five titles in multiple genres including Dark Fantasy, Dark Romance as well as her highly successful Dark Erotica series.
Marata lives in South Dakota with her husband, children and fur kids. She is an ardent reader of many genres. Tamara enjoys interacting with her readers via Twitter, blog and newsletter as often as possible. Please stop by and say hi :)
Twitter: @MarataEros
FaceBook: http://tinyurl.com/MarataErosFB
October 19, 2014
Sneak Peek Sunday- From My Untitled BDSM Series; A Contemporary Multicultural Erotic Menage Romance.
Excerpt From Untitled BDSM Contemporary Menage WIP-
Wyatt put the SUV's gear in park and stepped out his vehicle. Out of habit, he locked it though it armed itself automatically. Strolling towards the door, he glanced at the drive in front of him and saw only one car parked there, Zurie's charcoal gray Mercedes sedan.
Entering through the side door, he locked it behind him. Too many years in the DEA made him too aware of life's dangers.
“Zurie!” He set his keys on the kitchen counter and took off his coat. He needed her closeness, her touch.
“Yeah?” she replied close by.
He drew her into a hug and then a kiss. Her sweet taste melted away the tension in his shoulders and neck.
“Sweetheart what's wrong?” Her gaze was warm and endearing. He loved her so much. He needed to give her the world but didn't know how.
“Nothing,” he said brushing her hair away from her face. Her buff colored skin reminded him of a smooth souffle, golden creamy and perfect.
“Where's Henry?” He opened the fridge. Nothing seemed appetizing not even the left over pot roast. He grabbed a vitamin water instead.
A soft pair of arms wrapped around him as he felt a nose nuzzle his back.
“I guess we'll both be in wheelchairs before you learn to open up to me,” she said her voice muffled by the crumpled cloth of his shirt.
He shut the refrigerator door and quickly embraced her.
“What? I tell you stuff.” Surrounded by her touch love filled him. His heart fluttered and nerves tingled, causing a soothing sensation to flood his entire body. “For instance, I tell you that I love you.”
“And I love you too. That's why I'm going to ask how your visit with Master Jonathan went.”
“Fine,” he said planting himself on a bar stool adjacent to the center island. Their kitchen though small in comparison to the house where Henry stayed made him feel cozy, reminding him of the house where he grew up in Baltimore.
Zurie even had whimsical touch like his mom, with her choice items such as playful salt and pepper shakers in the shape of doves, held together on a stand between an olive branch.
“And?”
“And,” he hesitated, drank from the bottle and set it aside, “there are some things we need to talk about. Of which we can't until Henry gets here. Where is he?”
“Out playing basketball with Skip.”
Wyatt's mouth went dry. Skip Allen was a friend and fellow classmate of Henry's graduating in the top of his class at George Washington law school alongside Henry, and his alma mater. Henry and Charles or Skip to his friends, were long running buddies on and off campus among Maryland's elite on account of Henry's family connections and Skip's money. Never comfortable with their relationship, Wyatt held his tongue on account of his past dealings with the opposite sex. He suspicion of their relationship being more than friends at one point was never confirmed but he left it up to the sanctity of their love to keeping the past in the past. Besides Henry knew better then to acknowledge it.
“He said he'd back right about now,” Zurie said glancing at the clock.
Wyatt remained silent and pulled out his cell phone. He could hang with his friends anytime, but he needed him here now. A loud thump outside, soon followed by the rustle of the lock at the side door.
“Zurie baby, could you please tell Wyatt to stop lockin' me out,” Henry said closing the door behind him. “It never looks good for a black man to be hanging around a house like this fumbling for something even though I have keys.”
“Sorry, old habits,” Wyatt replied.
Henry dropped his bag on the floor in front of them. He wore a blue jersey and shorts trimmed in gold, GW's name emblazoned upon it .
“Oh.” Sweat dribbled down his face and neck. His carved arms glistened with moisture further evidence of the game, he just played.
“Did you win?” Zurie asked.
He greeted her with a wet kiss. “It was a draw. I need more floor time.”
“I suppose if you practice enough, the Suns will let you on their team,” she said smirking.
“Baby they got a spot waiting for me.” He approached Wyatt and leaned forward.
Wyatt kissed him sweetly on the lips. “You need a shower.” He needed that. Every ounce of him, loved his husband.
“Tell me something I don't know,” Henry said grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser. “What's up? Spill it.”
He wiped his face, forehead and the top of his head. The hair was cut so low he appeared almost bald.
Wyatt chuckled. “What makes you think, I've got something to say?”
“Cause you have a tell. You always do. It's the look you get in your eyes when your holding back something. And when it's really bad your forehead crinkles along with your brow. It means you're worried and you're stuck and you don't know how to get it out. So just spill it. Get it out.”
He was right as usual. That was the problem with being with someone for so long, they learned you and they tended to know you better than you knew yourself. “We're moving.”
“Come again?” Henry replied.
“I said we're moving.” It was best just to get it out in the open. Now that it was in the air, he felt it hanging there.
“Why?” Zurie asked looking concerned.
“It's time.”
Henry's lips turned upward. He balled up the used paper towel and tossed it into the trash. “The reason being?” he asked grabbing another. He finished drying his face now exposing his flawless chocolate brown complexion.
“You know living here was never meant to be long term,” Wyatt said suddenly feeling the sorrow of having to uproot his wife and husband once again. But it had to be done. Especially if they planned on having kids.
Henry, compressed his lips and tensed his jaw. Pacing, he asked, “What is it this time?”
Wyatt frowned. “Why you say that way? You act like every ten minutes we're up and packing our bags.”
More Sneak Peeks Here
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