October 15, 2015

An Exciting New Release From Susan Behon; Made for Me. A Madison Falls Book


Blurb

Sabrina O’Malley can’t stand the sight of Keith Sutton.

At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself. In all honesty, she loves sneaking peeks at the gorgeous, golden-haired construction foreman. It’s easy to forget how arrogant and irritating Keith is when she admires him from afar and can’t hear him talking.

The problem is, he’s always talking. Keith won’t let Sabrina forget her drunken and failed attempt to kiss him. He’s determined to get a do-over and she’s determined to avoid him at all costs. If he has to rile her up to get her attention, and that kiss, Keith is all for it.

Sparks fly when trouble comes to Madison Falls and they are thrown together in an effort to stop it. When Sabrina is targeted and comes under fire, Keith is resolved to keep her safe. To do that, he needs to get past Sabrina’s defenses.

Will Sabrina put her pride aside and give Keith a chance before it’s too late?


Excerpt

“Damn him anyway for a handsome devil.”

Sabrina O’Malley was doing her best not to stare at Keith Sutton, but the man looked like a Greek god in his tux. With his blond hair and great height and all of that gorgeous muscle straining against his black tuxedo jacket, he was definitely god-like. On second thought, he looked more like the Norse god, Thor. She had actually called him that before, but it was more out of irritation than adulation.

From behind the steaming trays of food at the buffet table, it was easy to get away with staring. The guests normally didn’t look past the trays of pasta and chicken parmesan to chance a glance at the caterer. That was fine with Sabrina. If they weren’t looking at her, then she could get away with looking at them.
She couldn’t hear what Keith was saying to his dance partner from across the reception hall, so that was the reason Sabrina gave herself for getting caught up in the sight of him. When he wasn’t speaking, she could forget that Keith Sutton was an overgrown jerk.

Sabrina knew this would happen when she agreed to cater Tracy King and Ben Carrington’s wedding. Lord, she wanted to smack her head against a wall for that lapse in judgment. It was an excellent boon to her business but the reality of being here with the romantic music and all of the happy couples was trying on her nerves. Love was in the air and she was doing her best not to breathe it in.

Keith had glanced over a time or two but she didn’t know if he was, in fact, looking at her or checking out the array of food. It was a toss-up where he was concerned. The man loved to eat. At six foot four and at least 200 pounds, he was a giant of a man. Add in the shaggy blond hair and beautiful blue eyes and he truly reminded her of some warrior god or Viking.

Not that she needed a reminder of gods, Vikings, or Keith. He turned up wherever she went. Tonight couldn’t be helped though. He was a member of Tracy and Ben’s wedding party. Keith had been partnered with Sarah Brandon since she was a bridesmaid and he was a groomsman. Sabrina reminded herself that they were practically family since Sarah’s sister, Sophie, was married to his brother, Reed. Keith was supposed to dance with Sarah at the reception. That didn’t mean Sabrina had to like the way she was staring up at Keith and laughing at whatever charming tripe was coming out of his mouth.

It was small of her, but Sabrina wanted to shove Sarah out of the way and dance with Keith herself. She felt mean for thinking it since Sarah looked so lovely in her strapless violet gown. Her golden blonde hair was swept up in some sort of twist, and with her height, she made a perfect partner for Keith. Damn it. To top it off, Sarah was an incredibly nice person too.

Sabrina thought she would look ridiculous dancing with Keith anyway. At just an inch over five feet tall, she was a munchkin compared to him. Her head didn’t even come up to his shoulder. The last time she tried to get eye to eye with Keith Sutton, Sabrina had to stand on a chair. Not one of her better decisions.
That was months ago, but she’d learned that jumping up on furniture was a terrible way to get a man’s attention. Her incredible state of intoxication at the time added insult to injury. She hadn’t been hurt physically, but boy, had her pride been stung.

Sabrina had been out with her sister celebrating the successful changes they’d made since taking over management of the Pizza Palace. After finally seeing some positive results from the new sauce and the revised menu, they’d decided that after months of nonstop work, a drink or two at Sarah’s Suds and Spuds was just what they needed. Only, she’d had one too many. Okay, three too many, but with her size, one was really all it took.

They hadn’t been in town a week before Sabrina had heard about the Sutton brothers. Anyone and everyone dished the dirt on Reed and Sophie’s courtship. When they weren’t talking about them, they were speculating over Keith and his prospects. Since moving to Madison Falls, she’d never met the Suttons personally, but with all the details bandied about, they weren’t hard to pick out of a crowd.

Her celebration landed on karaoke night, so Keith had been there with Reed and their friends. He was the only six foot four, blond haired man in the room so she’d identified him right away. His brother sang a few times and had quite a lovely voice, really. Keith didn’t sing, but he looked to be getting a whole lot of enjoyment out of ribbing those who did.

That was the night that her awful attraction to Keith Sutton had begun.

His wicked grin had drawn her in like a moth to a flame. One drink in and she’d been brave enough to smile at him when they’d made eye contact. Two drinks in and she’d had no problem telling her sister, Fiona, how easy on the eyes he was. In her blissful haze, she’d mentioned this loudly……and often. Three drinks in and Sabrina had decided that a kiss from Keith would be a perfect way to top off her night.

She’d made this foolish decision when Keith was about to pass by their table on the way to who knew where. In retrospect, she should have listened to her sister. Fiona had told her to stay the hell off of that chair. In her liquor-laced reasoning, Sabrina had explained it was the best way to reach him if she wanted to get her kiss. It sounded reasonable at the time.

As soon as he was close enough, Sabrina had hopped up on the chair and thrown her arms around his neck. To give the man credit, he took a strange woman latching on to him like a barnacle with remarkable aplomb.

“Whoa. Hey there, Red. Something I can do for you?”

Sabrina’s next words would haunt her for months.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

Keith had glanced down at her, then tilted his head like he hadn’t quite gotten the joke. “Excuse me?”
Sabrina remembered how good he’d smelled. Like peppermints and expensive aftershave. “Kiss me. I want to celebrate.” She’d threaded her fingers behind his neck and leaned in for a right proper smooching. That was when he must have smelled her third whiskey sour.

He’d reared back and stared into her eyes. His eyes were a beautiful, deep sea blue. She was going to tell him how gorgeous his eyes were after the kiss. Sabrina had tried to lean in again but Keith kept her at arm’s length.

“I think you’ve already done enough celebrating. Thanks, sweetheart, but no thanks. I don’t take advantage of drunk girls.” As he said that, he unlatched her hands, picked her up by the waist, and set her on the floor as if she weighed no more than a doll.

Even drunk, Sabrina was aware enough to be mortified.

Keith had eyed her from head to toe. Taking in her ginger red hair and matching crimson cowboy boots, he’d grinned as if her little stunt amused him.

“What’s your name, Red?”

She’d stared up at him, tongue-tied and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Adding her name to the mix would have been a horrible idea. At least her sense of reasoning kicked in before she’d told him who she was.

“You’re cute.” Cute? Yes, and so were puppies. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” Not if she could help it.
With that, he’d ambled away and left Sabrina wanting to crawl under the table and hide. Thank God the spotlight had been on the latest singer, which in contrast, left the rest of the room blessedly dark. The unfortunate guy singing Piano Man sounded like a strangled cat. All eyes were on him: some in disbelief, some in pity, and some in need of another drink. Thanks to the Piano Man massacre, Sabrina thought she’d gotten away without that many people seeing her throw herself at a man like a horseshoe. That’s what she’d hoped for anyway.

Fiona pulled her down in her seat before she could do anything else embarrassing. Her sister hissed, “I told you to stop after the second drink, but you never listen!” Seeing Sabrina’s obvious mortification, she’d softened her tone. “Don’t worry, hon, with a man that good-looking, I bet things like that happen to him all the time.”

Sabrina had sobered up enough to want to get the hell out of the bar. She’d made an ass out of herself so her celebrating was through. Thank God she hadn’t told him her name. Madison Falls was small, but she’d thought that surely she could avoid him.

A few weeks after that disastrous night, Sabrina learned that luck was not on her side. Both of her delivery drivers at the Pizza Palace had called off sick. There had been an enormous order due out to a construction crew and no one to deliver it but her. Just her luck that the order had been called in by none other than Keith Sutton.

When she’d pulled up to the site, she’d prayed he wouldn’t remember her. But as soon as Sabrina had gotten out of her car, Keith had done a double take and walked over. Damn her red hair. It was like a beacon.

“Hey there, Pizza Lady. Remember me?”

Of course she remembered him. She’d been taking turns fantasizing about and trying to forget the dazzling behemoth. “No, sorry. I have a delivery here for Sutton Construction.”

“That’s me. I mean, I’m not Sutton Construction. That would be a stupid name. But I am Keith Sutton. I called in the order.” After a sweeping once-over, he grinned, “Today must be my lucky day.”
Sabrina couldn’t say the same.

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Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JepnEA

Itunes: http://apple.co/1PYaV5x

Barnes &Noble (Nook): http://bit.ly/1ODiz78

BAM: http://bit.ly/1O9hgN4

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1PYb9JO

Google play: http://bit.ly/1it4nkH

Amazon.UK: http://amzn.to/1ELkrZp

Amazon.Ca: http://amzn.to/1ELkHaR

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Author Bio

Susan Behon, author of the Madison Falls series, enjoys creating a world that brings readers romance, laughter, and a healthy dose of sexiness. Susan graduated summa cum laude with a B. A. in English from Norfolk State University. She currently lives in Ohio with her very own romance hero of a husband and their two wonderful daughters.

Author Social Media

Twitter: www.twitter.com/suebeehny

Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1dD86dc

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1GFiuIg

Amazon Author: http://amzn.to/1zn8Igz

Link to All Books: http://amzn.to/1JepnEA





October 7, 2015

Sexual Sorcery, A Historical Erotic Romance by C.M. Fontana

Sexual Sorcery: An Erotic Tale of Sex, Mystery and the Occult, in Victorian England by C M Fontana



Blurb

An unwitting academic stumbles into the erotically-charged occult underworld of Victorian London. With a cast of characters including an investigator with a talent for seduction, a mesmerist collecting a harem of beautiful ladies, and a woman who believes she has had sex with Satan, Sexual Sorcery is a sizzling story of decadence, conspiracy and carnality.

When a collection of books go missing from the University's collection, Fredrick Clifford travels to London in search of the likely culprit, an apparently respectable gentleman named Victor Braystone. But he soon finds that he is not the only one with an interest in Mr Braystone, and the manipulative Catherine Wolseley soon draws him into her own schemes.

As he, Miss Wolseley and their seductive accomplice begin to unravel Mr Braystone's plots, Fredrick Clifford finds himself both confused and entrapped in a shocking world of of sex and duplicity. And as the trail leads him from the seductions of a London club to a Satanic altar in the wilds of the Welsh borders, he struggles to make sense of both the dark uncertainties of the occult, and of an unfamiliar realm of debauchery and sex.

Excerpt

By Saturday morning, Fredrick had still not had time to visit the agency to advertise for a new domestic servant, and he was becoming heartily sick of bread and marmalade for breakfast – or, indeed, for any other meal that he could not reasonably eat out. It was also an irritation that he had to answer his own front door, and now he found himself greeted at his front step by a small grubby boy, in bare feet and ragged trousers, presenting him with a sealed envelope.

He took the letter, tipped the boy a coin, and closed the door.

The paper was expensive, that handwriting feminine. Inside, a note simply read:

Two o’clock. My carriage will collect you. We cannot have gaps in your education as a gentleman. Please be an attentive student. Such classes are not inexpensive.

And that was all. He assumed that it was from Miss Wolseley, and resigned himself to having to follow her cryptic instructions. In the meantime, he thought, he would finish his newspaper, and then visit the agency to and see if they could alleviate his domestic difficulties.

And so, soon after lunchtime, after a satisfactory visit to the agency he found on returning to his house a familiar carriage parked outside.

“My good man, am I late?”

“Not at all Sir,” the gruff coachman tipped his hat. “I’m early. Take your time, Sir. We aren’t due til ‘alf past.”

Fredrick re-emerged promptly at two o’clock, and climbed into the carriage, and sat back while it bounced and swerved through the city’s congested streets. Out of the window he saw gentrified houses, and, as the traffic moved slowly on the main roads, although the journey was barely two miles, it took over twenty minutes. He was relieved to find that they stopped in a fashionable West End street.

He stepped down from the carriage, and the coachman indicated the door across the road.
He crossed the street and rapped with the brass door knocker.

Promptly, the door was opened, and a short, grey haired maid opened the door.

“Fredrick Clifford,” he introduced himself. “I may be expected?”

“Of course,” the maid curtseyed, with a hint of an accent, perhaps Italian or French, and stepped back to let him in.

She took his coat, hat and cane, and then led him up the stairs, and into a well furnished sitting room. Tall windows let light flood into the room through lace curtains, the room was decked with a range of plushly upholstered chairs and settees, the largest of which, unusually, seemed to be the size of a single bed, but with ornate arms and a high back.

The maid motioned him to take a seat in a plush chair by the window. She assured him, “I will say that you have arrived,” and then withdrew.

As he waited, he looked around. The décor was, the more he considered the details, eccentric.
Not only were the chairs unusually deeply upholstered, and the main sofa far wider than was needed, but there were numerous sturdy hooks, which looked like they might have hung chandeliers before gas lighting was installed, both in the ceiling and also, inexplicably in the skirting board at the foot of the wall. There was also a faint but spicy scent in the air, which he suspected might be incense – an unusual scent to encounter outside of a High or Catholic church.

The door opened, and he turned to see a tall, graceful woman step into the room. She wore a red silk robe like a dressing gown, and around her neck an ornate necklace of black beads. Her brown hair hung loosely in flowing curls, cascading over her shoulders, and Fredrick’s eyes were drawn further down, to the sides of her firm breasts, indecently visible where the two sides of the robe met.

“I’m so sorry!” he instinctively stood up and turned his back on her, to stare fixedly out of the window.

“And why, Mr Clifford, are you sorry?” The voice was soft, the accent unmistakably continental.

“I am… that is to say…” He could barely hear her approach, her bare feet on the carpet. “Perhaps I should return when you are properly dressed.”

Her voice, now just over his shoulder, chided, “Mr Clifford, I was told that you were a gentleman.”
“Well, yes!” he replied, indignantly.

“And is it polite, when a lady enters a room, turn your back on her, and then proceed to criticise her choice of clothing.”

“Well, I… there is a question of what is appropriate!”

“Your lessons today,” she corrected him, “are to deal instead with the question of what is courteous – gentlemanly. You may be quite right about what is appropriate. But this afternoon, that is not our subject.”

To Frederick, what was gentlemanly and what was appropriate seemed intimately connected. But Miss Wolseley had, presumably, some purpose in sending him here.

“I apologise,” he conceded, turning to face her. It would be a shame to argue with such an attractive hostess.
She smiled and inclined her head. “Then shall we start again?”

Fredrick nodded.

The woman turned and walked softly back to the door. He watched her robe sway against her legs, and was impressed by her grace. She left the room, and shut the door after herself. Fredrick sat down again, and waited.

After a minute, the door opened again, and the woman returned.

Fredrick stood up, and stepped forwards to greet her. “Fredrick Clifford, Madam. At your service.”

She held out her hand, palm down, and he took it gently, and bowed slightly as he motioned to kiss it. He could not help, bending forward, but appreciate the gentle curve of her breasts, barely draped in thin red silk.

“Signorina Maria Cenci,” she replied with a hint of a curtsey. “Charmed to meet you, Sir.”

She motioned him across to the wide sofa, strewn with cushions, and when he sat she took a seat next to him. Her robe fell open at the knee, revealing her slender, pale calf, and Fredrick made an effort not to look too intently.

The door opened again, and the elderly maid entered, carrying a tray, which she set down on the table by the settee.

“Milk and sugar, Mr Clifford?” Signorina Cenci asked.

“Please, yes.”

“Tell me Mr Clifford, she asked, as she poured the tea and the maid withdrew, “how should a gentleman behave towards a lady?”

Fredrick considered for a moment, and then, taking the cup and saucer offered to him, replied: “A gentleman should always be respectful.”

“And why is that important?” she asked. And when Fredrick had no ready answer, she clarified, “Why should a gentleman be respectful to a lady, and not, perhaps, to a tree or stone?”

“Obviously, trees and stones don’t have feelings!”

“So when you say respectful, you mean that you should be aware of the lady’s feelings?”

“Quite so,” Fredrick said, taking another sip of tea and then setting the cup aside. “The male is the stronger sex. It is our duty to protect, both physically and mentally, the frailer gender. It shows us to be civilized human beings, and not savages.”

“And so,” Signorina Cenci asked, “you see that, if a man turns his back on a woman as she enters the room, she might be upset. In which case, the gentlemanly response is to greet her courteously, perhaps?”

“I see your point, Madam,” Fredrick acknowledged, not wanting to argue.

“But is it also gentlemanly,” she teased, “as you bend down to kiss her hand, to stare so intently at her breasts?”

Fredrick blushed, “I am so sorry, Madam, I didn’t intend to.”

She laughed, and stood. “Then shall we try again?”

“Of course, if you wish.”

She left her tea cup on the table, walked to the door, turned, paused, and then returned towards the sofa.
Fredrick stood, stepped forward, and took her hand when she offered it. This time, as he bent and motioned to kiss her hand, he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Again Signorina Cenci laughed.

“Mr Clifford,” she smiled, placing her hand on his arm. “Do you really think that if a lady deliberately appears dressed like this – ” she raised her other hand to her neck and let her index finger slowly trace a line along the hem of the robe, down her chest, over the mound of her breast “ – that she does not want to be admired?”

“Really, Madam, I protest,” Fredrick sighed, “You say that I should not stare, and now you say that I should stare. What am I to do?”

“Mr Clifford, you are to be a gentleman. You are to behave with consideration for the lady’s feelings.”

Seeing that he was still confused, she continued. “If you stare dumbly at my chest – “ she turned slightly, so that he could fully appreciate the silhouette of her breasts – “I might consider the stare to be aggressive, or I might worry that you are no longer capable of rational thought. You are still capable of thought, Sir?”

He raised his eyes from the curve of her robe, to look her in the eye again. “Yes, of course.”

“But if you ignore me entirely, I might think that I have failed to impress you, or that you consider me ugly. You do not consider me ugly, do you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Then, Mr Clifford, please, stop trying to guess what the rules are. There is but one rule to being a gentleman. Consideration for the feelings of the other person. And so, consider my feelings, and act accordingly.”

“Very well,” Fredrick acquiesced.

“Then shall we try once more?”

She walked back to the door, and again turned to face him. She paused for a moment. “Are you ready, Sir?”

Fredrick nodded.

She ran her finger down the front of her robe, and deliberately opened the gap at her chest a little further, so that the sides of both breasts were quite bare. “Are you certain?”

Fredrick paused for just a second and then answered confidently: “Yes, Madam.”

Signora Cenci walked across the room, her hips swaying, and held out her hand, palm down.

Fredrick took her hand. As he bowed and raised it towards his mouth, he let his eyes glance over her soft flesh, and at the lowest point of his bow he glanced up to look her in the eye. Then he looked back towards her hand as he stood, and looked her in the eye again, keeping a lingering hold of her hand before releasing her.

“Mr Clifford!” she smiled, “Have you not been taught that it is too forward, even impertinent, to look a lady in the eye as you kiss her hand?”

“Signora Cenci,” he countered, “From the way that you adjusted your gown, I understood that you wanted me to be forward, even impertinent.”

“Bravo!” she clapped her hands three times and smiled. “Please sit, and explain to me your strategy.”

As they both sat down, he on her right, she on his left, he explained. “I trust that you wanted,” he glanced again at the curve of her breast, “to be appreciated, but with discretion. And I gathered that you would not mind a little impertinence. When I first looked up at your eyes, you could have looked away, but you did not. And so I inferred that a little more impertinence might be in order before I released your hand.”

“Perfect, Mr Clifford! You considered my feelings, and acted accordingly. One might almost say, appropriately?”

Fredrick smiled, “Yes, I think that you have proved that point.”

“Which is exactly why you are here,” she explained. She put her right hand behind her on the settee and turned her body towards him. “I am told that you are an intelligent, educated gentleman. But you have been taught to be a gentleman by following a set of rules. And now you find yourself in situations where the rules do not seem to work. Situations for which no rules have been written. Is this so?”

Fredrick nodded, “Increasing so, it seems.”

“And you are particularly unsure how to deal, in certain, unusual situations, with ladies?”

“I understand how to make polite conversation,” he admitted, “but there there are things, I find, that I do not really understand.”

“And that is why you have been sent to me,” Signora Cenci smiled. “Because if you are to be a gentleman in these situations, you will be more confident, yes?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“And to be a gentleman you need only two things. You need to act with consideration or the other person. And you need to understand what the other person wants. You see?”

“Theoretically, I suppose.”

“At this moment, yes, quite theoretically. Because you do not know enough about what a woman wants, and so you cannot treat her…. appropriately. So we shall give you a basic understanding.”

She looked at him, saying nothing more.

He felt that he was expected to react in some way, but had no idea how.

“Mr Clifford,” she flicked her long hair over her shoulder, and then lowered her hand to her knee, where she parted her robe a little. “You are alone with a woman who has chosen to greet you in a quite indecorous outfit – so indecorous, that she has not even troubled to put on underwear, but instead has nothing between you and her but a single layer of very soft, very thin silk. And now she has sat mere inches from you, turned her body towards you, and is now waiting for you. Can you not imagine a gentlemanly reaction?”

He sat, confused, uncertain.

“To make this simple,” Signora Cenci coaxed, “you have two options. If you are not sure what I want, then you can construct some witty, sensitive line of conversation to draw me into disclosing my desires. Or you can take action, in such a way that my response will tell you more of what I want…. Do you feel able to engage in witty conversations at this moment?”

He shook his head, mutely.

“Then Mr Clifford, take action!”

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Buy Links:

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1VaaXZC 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OunW9F 

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Author Bio: 

C M Fontana is a British erotic author, fusing plots of mystery, intrigue, and the supernatural with racy erotica. The first full-length novels, Sexual Sorcery, was published for Kindle in September 2015, with two novellas continuing the series released soon after.

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Author Website: http://mysticerotica.com/

Author Twitter: @mystic_erotica


October 5, 2015

Eyes Wide Open by Lucy Felthouse

A standalone novel from the Totally Five Star imprint.



Blurb:

An ordinary girl catapulted into an extraordinary world meets two even more extraordinary men—but what will she do when she discovers their sexy secret?

Fiona Gillespie moved to London shortly after graduating to take advantage of the opportunities the capital could offer. However, months later, she’s still living in a horrid flat and working in a grimy East End pub. The problem is, she doesn’t really know what she wants to do, career-wise. So when she happens upon an advertisement for a job at a plush Mayfair hotel, she jumps at the chance. A great deal of determination and a spot of luck land Fiona her dream role.

But working at the Totally Five Star London is just the beginning. She adores the role and flourishes, impressing her bosses and making her increasingly determined to climb the career ladder.

While her career is flying, though, her love life is non-existent. She hasn’t even thought about men, never mind met or dated one for months, so when she bumps into two gorgeous businessmen in the hotel, she’s surprised to find her head has been well and truly turned. Even more surprisingly, they flirt with her—both of them! She’s drawn to James and Logan, despite feeling that they’re way out of her league.

When a misunderstanding leads Fiona to James and Logan’s sumptuous top-floor suite, she has no idea what she’s about to uncover. Scenes of people-trafficking, drug-pushing and wild sex parties all appear in her active imagination. Yet what she actually sees is something she’d never even considered before, something that piques her interest.

After discovering their sexy secret, what will she do with this new-found knowledge?

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of anal play, spanking, sex toys and bondage.



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Excerpt:

Continuing to surreptitiously peer at the men over the rim of her glass, it hit her that this was the first time in months that she’d looked at a man with interest, much less two men—and at the same time! But, ready to snatch her gaze away if one of them happened to glance at her, she realized that it wasn’t surprising that the pair had attracted her attention.

The tailored business suits would draw the eye even on an ugly guy. But on these two, the fine clothing was practically an orgasm for the gaze. They sat opposite each other, and their angle to her meant that she had a view of both their profiles—lucky her.

The one to her right had very dark, almost black hair, with a bit of a curl to it, a long straight nose, a trimmed goatee and, if she wasn’t mistaken, deep blue eyes. It was hard to tell for sure from this distance and perspective.

The one on her left had lighter, shorter hair, stubble that by some magical feat still looked smart, and the most sinful lips she’d ever set eyes on. And speaking of eyes, she thought perhaps his were green. What she wouldn’t give to go and check both of them out close up, preferably naked.

Shocked at her own sudden lustful thoughts, she inhaled more than drank another sip of the juice. Unfortunately, it hit her throat all wrong and she almost slammed the glass down as she started to cough. She tried so hard to suppress the cough, eager not to draw attention to herself, that she made it worse. Snatching up the thick linen serviette from the table, she held it to her mouth as she spluttered in a most embarrassing manner, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. By now, she was sure that the whole damn restaurant was staring at her, and she wished the tablecloths reached the floor, like the ones in the restaurant upstairs, so she could hide under the table until she regained her composure.

Swallowing repeatedly to try to soothe her irritated throat, she gasped as a gentle hand laid on her shoulder, which set her off all over again.

“Oh God,” came a voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. See if I could help.”

Unable to speak, Fiona waved a hand to try to signal that she’d be okay, but unless the guy was a mind reader, he’d have no luck figuring that out. Blinking through the tears that marred her vision, her urge to hide underneath the table grew stronger. Christ, it was only the hottie with the blue eyes. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, his sexy friend with the green eyes was also hovering close by, concern etched into his handsome features.

Managing to drag in a breath, she huffed out, “Thank you.”

Just then, Jeremy arrived with a carafe of water, complete with ice, and poured her a glassful. “Here you go, Fiona. Drink this. Are you all right? Anything else I can get you?”

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Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/eyes-wide-open-totally-five-star-london/ 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26080607-eyes-wide-open 

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ld7t_6fL46w 



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Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of sub genres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014.

Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house.

 She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes.

Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.

Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

October 3, 2015

Mine to Love by Lea Bronsen. The Newest Book in the Hot Model Mine Series.

Book two of the Hot Model Mine trilogy is finally here! Did you wonder what happened to erotic romance author Andrea and her irresistible cover model, Yushka, after the conference in Cannes?

In book one, The Perfect Shoot, things were complicated for the couple. He was much younger than her—practically the same age as her twins—and she'd spent half her life without a man. After much reflection, she ended up giving into her desire and taking Mr. Hot Model for lover. But what then after they traveled back to their separate lives?

Wait no more: They're here to tell the continuation of their sizzling love story :)



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BLURB:

The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future?  

BOOK TRAILER:

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ievwhCy6FOc]
 

EXCERPT:

While Yushka gets his duffel bag in the back seat, I lean against the side of the Corolla and stretch my arms on top of its roof. “You got everything?”

 “Yeah.” He lifts the bag over his shoulder and tilts his head in direction of the front door. “We good to go?” 

My pulse beats a little faster at the thought of him dropping that bag on my bedroom floor and lifting me in his arms instead. I’m so excited to be with him, I simmer inside, aching to touch and hold him. I want to have all of him at once, right now. A spark of amusement plays in his gorgeous Asian eyes as he waits for me to make a move.

“What’s on your mind, Princess?”

 Holding his gaze, I smile, my fingers tapping a beat on the car hood to buy some time because I don’t know what to reply. I have a feeling whatever might come out of my mouth now, like I can’t wait to rip those clothes off you or I’m going to make you scream, will sound too cheesy. Why do we need to put our attraction into words, anyway? Once we’re home, there’ll be no reason to talk that much. We’ll do the talking with our more-than-capable hands and … um … mouths. I tap a quick rap before stepping back from the car.

“Come on.”

 “Okay.”

 Widening his smile, he follows me to the front entrance. I unlock and push the wood door open.

“I hope your bag’s not too heavy. The elevator doesn’t work.”

“When are they gonna fix it?”

 “Huh, good question.” I step forward, but when in the doorway, I spin to hold the door open for him. “I have no idea.”

“No?” With a raised brow, he passes me. Just then, I move toward him, chest-to-chest, blocking him and his thick bag between myself and the doorframe.

“Oh!”  He laughs.

 As the door pushes into my back, squeezing me tighter against him, I put my hands on his waist. First above his clothes––the thick leather jacket and his shirt––then sneaking underneath both of them, my fingers splaying on his warm skin and stroking him. Completely stuck, he tilts his head and stares into my eyes, his own sparkling with playfulness.

“What are you up to?”

“You have a problem?”

I move my hands out from beneath his shirt and go downward to palm his tight ass cheeks, pulling his crotch to me. My lower stomach and increasingly heating inner thighs seek to meet his. I want to be so near him he’ll feel my lust, and I want his lust to grow, too. I need us to join and be a match, a melting pot of desire, irresistible and untamable.

“I have to bribe you?” he asks, voice lower, and leans down to kiss me.

How did he guess? At the warm touch of his parted lips, delight rushes through me as if I’d had a shot of alcohol. He retreats his face a few inches, enough to have a view of what he just kissed.

“This good enough for you?” His voice comes out husky, a bit short of breath. With his free hand, he strokes and kneads my butt.

 “One more,” I mouth with the next exhale of air. Though the door bores painfully into my back, I don’t want to move, loving the feel of being so close to Yushka, so intimate. It’s amazing how instantaneous and intense our connection is. Just wait till we get our clothes off.

Again, his warm lips land on mine, and we kiss greedily, nose-to-nose, wet tongues playing with each other. My inner pussy muscles clench, remembering too well what it’s like to have his cock inside. I breathe faster. A growing hardness in his crotch presses against me, provoking more tightening.

Oh, God. Hot wetness glides down my pussy, wetting my panties. So ready, so soon… I mew into his mouth, and he rewards me with a guttural response, our mouths practically eating each other. But this isn’t the right place.

We need to move and play this torturous game and its grand finale somewhere else. Releasing his lips, I gasp from our separation, but still manage to pull away.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He inhales deeply and looks up, feverish eyes widening and trying to refocus.

 As I step backward, forcing the door to open again, cold evening air sneaks between our heated bodies.

“Let’s go,” I say with a croak, my chest heaving. He gives a small nod and steps inside the low-lit lobby.  

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WHERE TO FIND MINE TO LOVE:

Evernight | Amazon.com | Amazon.uk | All Romance eBooks | Bookstrand | Smashwords | iTunes Add the book to your Goodreads list, and check out my inspiration on Pinterest! Would you like to read the first book, The Perfect Shoot? You can find it here.  

AUTHOR BIO: 

I like my reads hot, fast, 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, suspense romance, and erotic contemporary romance.

I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on: 

  Website | Lea's Crazy Nights Blog | Facebook profile | Facebook page | Twitter | Amazon










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