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Out Now! Cupid by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 @evernightpub) #holiday #christmas #erotica #romance #shifter #paranormal #pnr

CupidBlurb:

As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.

One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.

Has Cupid finally met his match?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/cupid/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27255784-cupid

*****

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Excerpt:

Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.

Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.

He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.

He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.

Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.

Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.

He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.

The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.

The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.

As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.

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*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Out Now! – Properly, Or Not At All by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 @totally_bound) #newrelease #spanking #erotica #romance #bdsm

properlyornotatall_800Blurb:

Tristan and Jayme are not only devoted husband and wife, they are also Dominant and submissive, with a particular penchant for spanking. They’ve been playing delicious kinky games for the fifteen years they’ve been together and couldn’t be happier. However, when Tristan develops a health issue that means he can’t redden his wife’s backside for a while, it puts both of them under a lot of strain. It’s a big part of their sex life, and one they’ll miss badly.

They try to find a way around their unfortunate predicament, but it’s not easy. In the end, Tristan declares that he will either spank Jayme’s bottom properly, or not at all.

The prospect of no spanking at all dismays Jayme, but she has no other choice. Or does she? Continuing to put her mind towards the issue, she indulges in some solo experimentation, with mixed results.

But how will Tristan feel when he finds out his wife has gone behind his back?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/properly-or-not-at-all/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27319937-properly-or-not-at-all

 

Excerpt:

“You know what this fucking means, don’t you?” Tristan said loudly, slamming his car keys onto the hall’s side table and storming into the kitchen.

Jayme followed him quickly, her heart racing. Tristan rarely got angry—sure, he often pretended she’d done something wrong and faked being pissed off about it when they played D/s scenes, but real anger–it was something that just didn’t happen. She wasn’t quite sure what had sparked it, either. The news had been unfortunate, yes. Inconvenient, yes, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Tristan’s only choice was to take the doctor’s advice.

“Um, I take it you mean aside from the obvious?” she ventured quietly, not wanting to piss him off even more.

“Yes,” he said on a heavy sigh, making it clear his anger and frustration weren’t aimed at her. “Come here, you.” He held out his arms, and when she went into them he hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “Fucking hell, Jayme, I’m really going to miss spanking that beautiful arse of yours.”

“And I’m going to miss you doing it,” she murmured into his chest. Then, pulling back so she could make eye contact, continued, “But we’ll cope. There’s loads of other stuff we can do—we can still have fun. As much as I love it, it’s not worth making the problem worse, or screwing up your recovery once you’ve had the op. Your health is more important, babe.”

“Mmm…” came the reply, along with a very displeased expression.

“Hey,” Jayme said sharply, raising her eyebrows, “you might be in charge in the bedroom, mister, but I’m putting my foot down here. Hopefully you’ll get a date through for the operation really soon. And the sooner you have the op, the sooner you’ll be recovered and we can get back to normal. In the meantime”—she grinned widely—“we’ll just have to get creative, won’t we?”

Much to Jayme’s relief, Tristan finally smiled. “You’re right, as always, wife of mine. Clearly I’m not happy about this—fucking carpal tunnel bollocks, spoiling all our fun—but it could be a lot worse, I suppose. At least they’re not operating on my dick!”

“True.” She giggled. “That would take some creativity of epic proportions!”

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*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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New Release! A Contract for Christmas by Lisabet Sarai

 

ContractForChristmas400Holiday-themed BDSM ménage erotic romance (X rated)

Approximately 8500 words, 26 pages

HEA ending

ISBN (Smashwords): 9781311330642

 

This Christmas, Santa demands more than milk and cookies.

 

A Contract for Christmas Blurb:

Isabella plans to surprise her husband and master Greg with an intimate Christmas Eve dinner for two. She’s left with only her fantasies of Greg’s dominance to keep her company, though, when a blizzard strands him at an airport a thousand miles away. Then her husband’s best friend James shows up at her door. Over the past year, Greg has invited James to participate in some of their kinky scenes, but Bella has never been alone with the sexy entrepreneur. Should she let him in and risk surrendering to his quiet authority without her master’s permission?

Greg resolves her doubts in an unexpected phone call, ordering her to fulfill James’s every desire. Ever obedient, Bella complies, and James rewards her with a night of soul-searing pleasure. When Greg returns on Christmas morning, he appears unfazed by her powerful new connection to his friend. Instead, he offers Bella an outrageous gift, one she’s not sure she dares accept.

 

 

Buy Links

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B019ECGDJ6

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B019ECGDJ6

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/600663

iTunes (probably not– they’re prudes)

Kobo – (soon!)

B&N – (soon!)

Goodreads

 

I really didn’t have time to write a holiday story this year. The deadline for my next novel is December 31st, and I’m at least half a dozen chapters from the end. As usual, the holiday season means lots of social events, not to mention end-of-year work responsibilities. Then there were gifts to buy or create, cards to send, decorations to hang, cookies to bake—all the lovely, but time-consuming, activities associated with with December.

Once I’d conceived the idea for A Contract for Christmas, though, the story wouldn’t let me go. I’ve been writing about Isabella, Greg and James for a couple of years now. Every time I sit down to pen another episode, I learn more about who they are and what they want. In this case, I realized how emotionally dependent Isabella was on her dominant husband Greg. I started to wonder whether this was a good thing. Apparently, given the ending of the story, Greg was thinking along the same lines.

So anyway, I stole the time for writing this. I devoted two solid eight-hour days to the process, deferring everything else that I could. I ended up with a massive headache and a stiff back—but I had my Christmas story!

I hope you like it.

 

 

A Contract for Christmas Excerpt:

The doorbell interrupted my ruminations.

Who could be at my door on Christmas Eve? Carolers? A neighbor with holiday wishes?

Certainly I was in no condition to welcome visitors. Aside from a wet spot between my legs, my dress hadn’t been hurt by my rather violent orgasm, but my hair was tangled mess. Sticky juices coated the inside of my thighs.

Ill just ignore them until they go away, I thought.

The insistent ringing continued, however. Finally, with a sigh, I ran my fingers through my snarled mane, and rose to answer.

“Merry Christmas, Bella.”

My breath caught and my stomach flipped. I was on a roller coaster hurtling down the steepest of slopes. Hot blood surged into my cheeks and my earlobes. I wanted to sink through the floor.

“What—um—James? What in the world are you doing here?”

Greg’s best friend—and our occasional partner in kinky games—flashed me a cheeky grin. “Can’t I drop by to wish my friends a happy holiday? I even brought a gift.” He handed me a tin decorated with a green and gold bow.

“Fruitcake? Really, James!” I managed a nervous chuckle.

“Hey, it’s traditional.” He shrugged his shoulders under his snow-dusted down parka. “So, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

My thoughts whirled. I’d never been alone with James before. “Uh—Greg’s not here. I mean, he was supposed to be home by now, but he got stranded in Chicago because of the blizzard. How is it out there, by the way?”

“Pretty bad. The wind’s so strong you hardly walk, and the snow’s so thick you can barely see. You going to force me to go back out there, Bella?”

“Well—actually…”

He was already peeling off his jacket. “Mmm, it’s nice and toasty in here.” Taking my arm, he drew me back into the apartment. His nostrils flared.

Oh no! He can smell me. James knew me pretty well. Could he tell I’d just come? My discomfort deepened.

“Boy, something smells really good! Roast chicken?”

I released the breath I’d been holding. “Cornish hen, actually…I was going to surprise Greg with a special dinner, but then the storm hit—and, um, well, he’s stuck, like I said—and I’m—I’m all by myself, haven’t seen him for days—I miss him—miss him so much…”

To my mortification, I started to sob. And once the tears began, I couldn’t stop them. I stood there like an idiot next to the elegantly set table for two, clutching a fruitcake and crying my eyes out.

 

About Lisabet:

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

 

 

Out Now! BDSM by C.A.Bell (@cbellAtrix09) #bdsm #poetry

BDSM PoetryBlurb:

BDSM is a collection of poetry containing f/f, anal play, femdom, bondage, shibari, anal play and much more. It contains meaningful, intimate, and downright filthy poetry written in acrostic, ballad, cinquain, and free verse.

This collection is intended for the open-minded people out there who love all things BDSM.

So, let BDSM take you on a journey into the taboo, and give the most erogenous part of your body, your brain, a treat.

Excerpt from Switch:

When I entered the room I noticed the whip,

Then his breath on my neck, and his hand on my hip.

“Hello my sweet darling, I’m glad you are here.”

His voice was playful, but still I felt fear.

 

“Have you obeyed? Done all I have asked tonight?”

I couldn’t help but clench, and close my arse tight.

“Yes, Master I have, right down to the letter.”

My arse clenched again, my pussy even wetter.

 

“And how does it feel, to be stretched like this?”

His hand moved to my bottom, in the shape of a fist.

“It feels strange Master, like my body is full.”

His fist moved to my hair, and he began to pull.

 

“And full you shall be, once I’m inside you too.”

“Oh Master, please tell me, what is it you plan to do?”

He laughed against my ear, and tugged my head back.

“I’m going to fuck your pussy, while that plug is in your crack.”

 

My body shuddered with sexual apprehension.

He released his grip, and then came the tension…

 

Excerpt from Harem:

The three of us knelt, collared and chained,

Waiting for one master, to teach the untrained.

The three of us were stripped, told to behave,

Told we were sluts, whores, and slaves.

 

He entered the room, we all bowed our heads,

His attire was magnificent, all blacks, gold’s, and reds.

Then under my chin, he placed his big hand,

Told me that tonight, I would follow his command.

 

I nodded my head, subserviently so,

Then he moved to the next, second in the row.

And said exactly the same to the second and third,

And then left the room without saying a word.

 

We all sat motionless, staring at the floor,

Until he entered again, slamming the door.

Knowing he was back sent a surge of exhilaration,

This was what I needed, strong domination.

 

He snatched up my chain, tugged me over to a stock…

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Author Bio:

C.A.Bell was born and raised on the outskirts of London, England, but for the past three years has resided in a much more rural town of Shropshire, where she and her husband married and made a home.

She is currently working on a number of projects, including the follow-on book to The Architect, as well as a novel, and aspires to be a well-known author.

Buy Links:

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

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1PzRRhg

 

Social Links:

Twitter @cbellAtrix09

Facebook https://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Author-C-A-Bell/100010696021804

Author Website http://authorcabell.co.uk

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Out Now! – First Beast by Faye Avalon @faye_avalon #PNR #romance #erotica

First BeastBook Blurb:

To protect his pack, he must guard his heart.

Lost on Bodmin Moor, twelve-year-old Talia Summers was cold, hurt and terrified, before being saved by a black panther that materialized out of the night.

Years later, Talia returns to the moor in search of that magnificent beast, but instead finds a man leading a clan of shape shifters. Yet the connection she remembers is strangely absent. She despairs of ever finding it again—until a stranger steps into her shower.

Back to claim his rightful place, Caleb McLeod’s fierce attraction to his half-brother’s female is tempered by the fact she’s a human. Worse, a journalist. He’ll not have his people’s survival threatened by a human female who continually pushes the boundaries of pack rules.

His solution? Mate with her. Control her. And if his brother doesn’t like it, they’ll simply have to share. For now.

But suspicion and lies threaten the growing bond between Talia and Caleb, and the past has a way of catching up. A way of destroying the bridge built between two worlds…between two hearts.

Beasts of Bodmin Moor, Book 1

Product Warnings

A red-hot panther shifter with an over-the-top possessive streak, a human reporter trying desperately to retain her independence, and enough sexual heat to set fire to the moors of Cornwall.

Buy Links:

Samhain Publishing:  https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5660/first-beast

Amazon:  http://myBook.to/FirstBeast

Nook: http://bit.ly/1PUTE0u

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/1O0TGhG

 

Excerpt:

Since she’d deliberately gotten home early, Talia headed straight to the kitchen to put lasagna in the oven. She intended to make the evening special, to make up for some of the tension between her and Joshua.

Since the day was hot, unbearably so, she headed to the shower.

She’d expected Josh to be home, but wasn’t overly worried. He’d likely taken himself off to the moor and hadn’t yet gotten her text asking him to join her.

Thinking it might bring them closer if he’d shared that part of himself, Talia had once asked him to shift in front of her, but he’d steadfastly refused. It was his time, he’d said. Something he couldn’t share with anyone, even her.

Many times when she woke in the night he would be gone. On his return, he’d often wake her and they would make love. Lately, he’d come home with a restless energy. She’d feel him slide into bed, turn over and slip into a troubled sleep.

Maybe it was all part of being a shapeshifter. Something to do with the phases of the moon.

She stripped off her work clothes, put the shower on cool, and stepped beneath the spray. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feel of the water against her skin and let the tension of the day slide off her shoulders.

Over the spray of water, she heard the click of the back door. Joshua was home. She didn’t call out. He’d hear the shower soon enough, and by the time he reached the bathroom he would have stripped out of his clothes.

How was it that all their problems seemed to fall away when they had sex? Here, they were compatible. Here, they saw eye to eye.

So why did she still crave something that possibly didn’t even exist?

Unbidden, her thoughts slipped back to that night she’d gotten lost on the moor. Why in heaven was she thinking about it so often these days? It was as if something called to her, made her more aware of her longing for what she’d experienced back then. Josh had been a young panther, he’d told her, running solo for the first time. Most of his kind didn’t experience shifting until they reached puberty, and they had to run with more experienced members until they learned the secrets and challenges of the moor.

She’d been so desperate to learn more, to talk to him about that night and how much it had meant to her, but he was always circumspect. Probably because shifters weren’t supposed to talk about their experiences on the moor, especially not with humans.

Pushing the thoughts away, she continued to soap herself, anticipating the moment the bathroom door would open and Joshua would stand there in all his glory and ready to play. With her free hand, she reached out and rubbed at the steamy shower screen, giving herself a clear window through which she would be able to see him. She could hear his footsteps—weird how attuned she was becoming to sound, scent and vision. It was almost as if her own senses had sharpened since she’d mated with a shifter. Perhaps that was a side effect? She’d have to check it out with Joshua. That was, if he’d be willing to discuss it.

The footsteps seemed to wander from room to room, and she speculated as to what particular game Joshua was playing. Had he thought of yet another inventive way to string out the anticipation? To make her wait for him so that she was so hot by the time he reached her that she’d be desperate to jump him?

She’d be damned if she’d call out to him, because that was probably one of his intentions. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and determined to play whatever game they were in the middle of. She unhooked the shower attachment, and held it ready at chest level, so that when he opened the door to the shower cubicle, she’d be in the perfect position to blast him.

She bit down on her bottom lip. Denied the warmth of the shower water, she shivered from both the cool air on her flesh and the thought of what was to come. Knowing Josh, he’d be pissed when she drenched him, but a pissed and aroused Joshua was often a joy to behold.

The footsteps grew louder and seconds later, the slow squeak of the door signaled his arrival. Since her peephole had steamed up again, she couldn’t see him, but smiled as the dark shadow approached the cubicle door. She hummed softly, sashayed a little, so that he’d think she was unaware of his presence and was simply enjoying her shower.

The shadow remained outside the door, perfectly still and strangely menacing. Something niggled, seeming a little off. Did Josh seem taller, broader? She mentally nudged it away as a trick of the light, and possibly her own arousal. But goose-bumps lifted the tiny hairs on her arms and she gripped the showerhead tighter.

Without warning, the cubicle door swung open and Talia had the breath knocked out of her momentarily as the cold snap of air whooshed into the small space. Narrowing her eyes, she raised the showerhead and let the spray hit Josh full in the face.

“What the hell?”

The deep curse that echoed around the bathroom and the strong hand that clasped her wrist belonged not to her husband, but some brute of a man who towered over her while she stood naked and trembling.

“Who…what do you think you’re d-doing?”

With his free hand, he wiped his drenched face. “My question exactly, sweetheart.”

His deep green eyes glared at her, his grip tightening around her wrist so that she dropped the showerhead to the floor. In the process, it sprayed them both with water, soaking his dark gray T-shirt and jeans. It earned her another dark curse.

She tried to scream, but nothing came out. So she did the next best thing. She fought. Kicking, hitting out with her free hand, and meeting nothing but rock-solid muscle.

“Get out!” She lashed out once more, tugging furiously at his grip on her and trying in vain to get free of him. Her breath backed up in her lungs, all her muscles tight and trembling. “Let go of me!”

He wiped his face again, the lower part of it sporting dark stubble. Talia let her gaze skim over him, trying to memorize his features for when she had to give a description to the police. God. He was built like a truck. His neck alone would rival the span of her waist, while his chest rippled and heaved beneath the soaked shirt.

Suddenly aware of her nakedness, she ceased her perusal. “If you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream. So help me, I’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead.”

He only grinned at that, yet there was little humor in it. Feral, she thought dazedly. He reminded her of a determined predator…

Bloody hell. Was he a shifter? A member of a visiting pack? It seemed to happen pretty frequently, but from what she knew, they didn’t engage in breaking and entering.

The thought that this man might be a shifter terrified her. She knew of their strength, of their power. Of their primal charm and charisma…which had to explain the sudden resurgence of arousal that powered through her trembling body.

“Go ahead and scream. There’s nobody around to hear you.”

He was right, of course, and she shivered with alarm. Most of their neighbors were at work, and the house itself was on the edge of the moor, its strategic position giving the pack’s leader both status and tactical strength.

She raised her chin and made herself stare him straight in the eye. “You don’t scare me.”

Another feral grin. “Is that so?” He glanced insolently down at her breasts and the hard, pebbled nipples that rose to attention. “But it sure looks like I do something to you, sweetheart.”

She gasped, and he abruptly released his hold on her and stepped back. Since he was still blocking her exit from the cubicle, Talia couldn’t reach the towel she’d placed on the railing outside without brushing her body against him. She crossed one arm to cover her breasts, then reached down to palm her hand over her center.

When he glanced to where her hands were purposefully placed, she suffered the punch of his assessing gaze and felt more naked than ever.

“If you leave now, I won’t report you,” she stated, thankful that her voice had regained some of its authority. “Just go.”

In answer, he raised his arm over his head and grabbed the back of his sodden shirt. Effortlessly, he shrugged it off and dropped it to the floor.

Eyeing his chest, Talia swallowed. She’d thought Joshua’s chest was ripped, but this man’s was something else. Scars scored the wide expanse of hard, solid muscle, crisscrossing as if someone had planned to create a specific pattern there. But they did little to mar the sheer masculine perfection of his upper body. Down the right side of his torso, a deeper, angrier-looking scar traveled from his ribcage to disappear beneath his jeans.

So lost in her heady examination, she didn’t realize he’d moved closer to her.

She jerked back, flattening herself against the cubicle wall. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He spared her a glance. “Just undertaking some damage control. If my jeans get any wetter, I’ll need to ditch them, then there’ll be two of us naked in this shower.” He reached around her to turn off the faucet. “From your overreaction so far, I’m not sure you’d be too happy about that.”

“My overreaction?” The absolute nerve of the jerk. “You’ve barged in here, threatened me—”

“Wasn’t aware I’d done anything to you.”

She half expected him to add yet, but he strolled across to the railing and picked up the towel she’d placed there. He tossed it to her, making her almost giddy with relief. If he was going to let her dry herself, surely his intentions weren’t quite as dishonorable as she’d feared.

She wrapped the towel tightly around herself, keeping her gaze firmly on him. He went over to the rack and selected another towel with which he proceeded to dry himself.

Her fears shot into orbit again when he positioned himself in front of the bathroom door, effectively barring her escape the way he had in the cubicle. Gingerly, she stepped out. If she could at least get access to the bathroom cabinet, she might be able to select something to use as a weapon.

“What’s your name?”

The question took her by surprise and she jerked her chin toward him. “I should be asking you that. So I know who to report when I make my statement to the police.”

Perhaps in retrospect, she shouldn’t antagonize him, but the nerve of the man. Breaking into her home, terrorizing her, demanding to know her name as if she were the intruder.

He laughed. “And just how many arrests has old Bill Tucker made recently?”

“You know him?”

“Since I was a kid. And if we’re talking arrests, maybe I should be the one pressing charges.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Now will you please stand aside and let me out of this bathroom?”

He threw the damp towel onto a nearby chair. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. At least not until you answer my question.”

Since he’d planted his feet and crossed his arms over his massive chest, Talia swallowed down fresh tension. “What…what question?”

“Just what the hell are you doing in my house?”

Author Bio:

Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. She has taken a roundabout journey toward her writing career, working as cabin crew, detouring into property development, public relations and education, before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.

Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog. They regularly expand their family by boarding puppies destined to become guide dogs. Between writing, reading, running around after manic puppies and grabbing some quality time with her husband, Faye enjoys a challenging yoga session or a night at the movies.

Visit her at www.fayeavalon.com or on Twitter and Facebook.

Links:

Website:  http://www.fayeavalon.com

Blog: http://www.fayeavalon.wordpress.com

Twitter: @faye_avalon

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/faye.avalon.1

Pinterest: https://uk.pinterest.com/fayeavalon1/

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© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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