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Spy Games — Another Fab New Anthology Edited by Jillian Boyd

It’s totally my pleasure to announce that the wonderful author and editor, Jillian Boyd, has an exciting new anthology Cover2out called Spy Games — a sizzling collection of nine stories, by nine delicious authors, all about spies and detectives. Move over Mr Bond! Make room for something truly sexy!

SPY GAMES Blurb:

From the sunny streets of South Florida, to the bars of Paris, to the backstreets of Rome where a secret club for old spies lies hidden, Spy Games is a collection of nine tantalizing tales in which spies and detectives seduce and deduce in all corners of the world.

Edited by Jillian Boyd and featuring stories from the likes of Zak Jane Keir, Slave Nano, Emily L. Byrne and F. Leonora Solomon, Spy Games is filled with danger, desire and the thrill of sex and spying. Unleash your inner Mata Hari and devour this collection… should you choose to accept this mission, of course.

Spy Games Buy links:

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spy-Games-Thrilling-Erotica-ebook/dp/B00V5659WW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1427644792&sr=8-1&keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica

ARe – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-spygames-1766800-362.html

 

Spy GamesExcerpt:

from Mid-Life Career Changes by Jessica Taylor

On my last night with Roman, I dropped from a contorted perch in the airshaft of his kitchen. I knew he kept no security in his house overnight, perhaps the only honest mistake I ever saw him make. My bare feet made no sound as I landed like a small grasshopper next to his purring refrigerator in the warm, inky dark. The lights of the city pulsed like stars through the glass walls of his home. I remember almost deviating, almost going to stand next to his round, thick dining table in front of those transparent walls overlooking the up lit trees of the park below. Roman had eaten there last, sipping magenta borscht and reading the paper Nash Gorod – Our City. Then he had gone to his freezer and pulled a translucent bottle of anise liqueur from the drawer. Dressed in silk black pyjama bottoms, his nipples hardened when he slowly kissed the bottle, leaning back peacefully onto the cold metal. His Adam’s apple bobbed finely as he pulled on the cloudy fluid.

I stole across his open home until I came to the ornately carved door of his master suite. In the centre of the room, my man was sleeping soundlessly, innocently tucked into the folds of his red silk bed. Talismans and the charms of the superstitious decorated the high ceiling above the entrance and I knew from months of watching that he crossed himself each night before he finally entered. I had smelled sage and peppercorn as I envisioned him walking down the hall, shirtless and stretching his arms above his head, scratching his shoulder blade lazily.

My hands, I remember, had shaken. It was a miniscule vibration but still it was there. It took moments longer to pick the lock than it normally would have. I suspect I even made noise, as if I was subconsciously warning him. But when I slithered in, he remained asleep and undisturbed. Then my steps were choppy, without confidence or grace, as I moved across the room to my sleeping, waiting man.  He had slept so noiselessly, I thought to myself he would not keep even me, such a light sleeper, awake the way other men had with their lip smacking and snoring. I would have been at peace beside him.

When he opened his eyes, there was no fear or surprise. He looked at me as if he was awaiting me and I had finally emerged from between the trees. His eyes travelled my tightly shrouded body, taking in my small frame, my bare feet. In those days, I carried no weapons. Perhaps when he noticed this, he thought he might have a chance. Or maybe he thought escape from the situation possible when he saw the confusion in my own eyes, the hesitance in my stance. He pushed himself up slowly, as if to not ignite a wild animal, as we continued our mutual gaze. He spoke first, with a voice I knew well; scratchy and deep, caressing my ears like a symphony.

“You don’t look like one of my normal girls,” Roman announced sarcastically but calmly. “Who sent you?” he continued.

I wonder now what my voice sounded like to him the first time he heard me speak. Was it instantly intoxicating, as his was for me? “I don’t actually know,” I responded, honestly but quietly. “It’s not the way that I operate.” I spared him the explanation that I always opted out of knowing who wanted it done or why. I found that such information hindered my efficiency.

He slowly sat up, the red sheets falling into his lap. He drew his hands to his chest in submission as his carved, naked muscles flexed. “How long have you been with me?”

I sighed as I stared longingly between the lines of his muscles, “Six months.” His face had reddened then, thinking perhaps about whom he would personally execute for the oversight of my presence. I let him slide his feet to the floor in the same way I had seen him do so many times before. Perhaps because I am so small, he thought he could out manoeuvre me. He thrust forward like a beast released from a cage, groping towards the spot where I knew he kept a 9mm Glock.

I dropped to my knees, thinking to swipe his ankles. With my legs spread, and my shins pressed to the ground, I looked up into his clear blue eyes. My mouth hung open in awe. I had never seen his eyes this close and they mesmerized me. My sex began to throb and my breasts swelled with heaviness. A dull ache stirred in my clitoris. I was overcome with sensation I thought I could suppress. He hovered over me, looking down at me between his legs. I must have seemed so inane, so slight, perhaps even so lovely straddled there beneath him, looking up at him like a confused but lovesick dog. All I would have had to do was rise onto my knees and I could take him into my empty mouth as I kept staring into those calm eyes.

I will never know why he stopped going for the gun, why he looked down at me with a new expectation, or why he pulled on the black silk tie of his sleeping pants to give me a chance. They drifted with the speed of a feather to the ground at my knees and all of the fantasies I could not suppress over the past few months filled me like a dam had broken. I saw us walking through the park with the lost, white dog prancing along beside us. I saw us sparring, and then falling to make love on the mat. I saw myself as his warrior, his personal assassin for any man he needed taken down.

After months watching him, he had made me doubt my solitude and even my consuming profession, and I was deeply grateful to be beneath him watching his cock elegantly harden. I suddenly wanted to express my respect and longing for him. I wanted to show him how he had changed me, though I was still unsure in what ways I was different. When he ever so slightly nodded his head to me, my mouth watered, saliva jumping from the buds in my mouth.

I arched my back and leaned my small breasts in to rub at his knees. For a second only I worried for his hands having access to my neck, where we both know places for that smooth snap. But the skin of his cock had turned dark and burgundy against the white of his muscular thighs and I was magnetised. I placed my hand at the base of his shaft, opened my mouth and flattened my tongue over his balls. I dragged my tongue up him, each taste bud softly abrading and then absorbing him as I moved up to the head of his cock. I ascended so slowly, as if every cell of his skin needed to be tasted. I licked it ravenously, the way Eve had when she first beheld and then tasted her own apple.

I hovered there, at the bright head of his dick, and dug my nails into his inner thighs as I tried to hold myself back from swallowing him too deeply. When I finally let myself take him slowly into the back of my throat, he had begun to softly groan “yes” with each exhale. He pulled at my bundled brown hair so it fell down my arched, begging back. When he dug a powerful hand into the roots and shoved my head farther onto his dick, I moaned loudly and my nipples tightened, fiercely longing to be thumbed.

He lifted me without effort just before he could no longer keep himself from erupting hotly onto my face. That would have been enough for me, to swallow him reverently. He sat me on the heavy wooden bed in front of him and peeled off my black pants. He set his teeth against the inside of my ripped thigh and squeezed his teeth on my muscle. I thought briefly of the major arteries available to his mouth, if he was considering using it for a different kind of destruction. As he bit, he pulled back the skin of my hood and rubbed the head of my clit, already engorged and slick just from sucking him. I drew my knees toward me as I balanced back onto my arms and spread with trust for him.

When I lifted my eyes from his dirty blond head, I discovered a mirror behind us and watched his gluteal muscles ripple and twitch as he thrust his tongue into me. Misty grey tattoos covered his back and I could see a scar where one had been dug from his body by the blade of another man’s knife. If I were his, he would be perfectly protected for life. A white, shiny scar had healed there but threads of leftover ink still peppered the new skin. I first came quietly and deeply with his face between my legs, lapping my clitoris while his two fingers calmly caressed me. I stared into the white dwarf star of that scar that swallowed me whole.

As he stood, I returned my hands to his cock and stroked him as he discarded my tight black top and I stared up into his blue eyes, biting my lip and wishing for this moment to continue on and on. He spat on my breasts and then sat his dick between them and slid himself up and down. He stroked my hard, dark nipples, exactly as I’d dreamed before. I grew wetter and wetter, the energy in my pelvis growing as I began to moan softly for him. Just then, he could have done anything to end me. He could have slit my throat or choked my breath from me. I submerged myself in the moments with him, avoiding myself and the decisions I would need to make, lost from my consciousness as he rubbed me and showed me his beautiful cock and let me pet his tattooed chest and abdomen. My cheeks and neck flushed red like they did when I sprinted after him in the park below, like they did when we pounded ourselves into switch kicks and hooks.

I let him turn me and set me on my knees in front of him on the bed. He could have made a horror movie of me, dark and sadistic with my blood smeared on the walls and my insides brutalized entirely differently. I didn’t worry about his hands groping for a gun as he kept on massaging both my nipples while he pumped himself deeply into me from behind. Eventually, he grabbed my ass and split my cheeks as he slowly pulled his length from me, floated at my entrance, and then painfully slowly slid back into me. I dripped sweat when he sped up, fucking me deep, hard, and rhythmically. I was too weak with desire to fear him when he set his hands on top of his head, continuing to bang into me. “Harder,” I begged as I stroked myself and pressed my face into the red sheets.

He could have shot me, stabbed me, broken my neck. Instead, he fucked me until I came twice more. The last time, I was on my back and he had smiled deep into my eyes. This was the smile I had seen when he was deeply happy, deeply at peace. This was his smile for lost dogs in the park, for toasting frozen vodka at midnight, for singing off key in the gym late at night. He withdrew from me as I stared hazily at him and the world exploded around me. He erupted searing cum onto my belly and chest. Then he massaged it into my breasts and nipples as he softly made love to my lips and tongue with his mouth.

After, Roman lay behind me—he spooned me tenderly and I allowed it—as we spoke softly for some time. He asked me what I had seen over the past months, and I told him, which was everything. He sighed deeply as if it mattered what one murderer saw another do, as if he still planned on us both making it out of there.  Telling Roman the complexity of his life, I finally admitted to myself how I had come to fall in love with him. And I failed to recognize that the story could have a different ending.

Find Jessica Here:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jessahtaylor

 

About Jillian Boyd:

Jillian Boyd is an erotica author and blogger, who has been putting dirty words on paper and on her blog for the past three years. She likes taking everyday, seemingly mundane situations and making them sexy and sensual – and when she’s not doing that, she lets her imagination fly off into history and distant planets. Where she also tries to find everyday situations and make them sexy and sensual.

She’s been published in several House of Erotica anthologies, contributed to Tiffany Reisz’s office supply erotica charity anthology Felt Tips and has a story in the Golden Crown Literary Award-winning Best Lesbian Romance 2014, published by Cleis Press. She is currently working on her first novella, a sci-fi erotic thriller called In Another Life.

Find Jillian here:

Spy Games Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/spygamesantho

 

Out Now – Cowboy Up 2 Boxed Set!

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Saddle Up with the best-selling authors who brought you Cowboy Up… And fall for Six more Cowboys ready to steal your heart!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1HsUw5n

Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/1E8aKQj

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Good Ride, Cowboy by Allison Merritt

Sometimes all you need is one good ride to clear your head.

Thanks to her ex-boyfriend, Sommer Allen’s life is in shambles. She’s headed home to Courtland, Texas for her sister’s wedding, but when a quick stop a gas station ruins her plans, she’s left stranded and at the mercy of a handsome cowboy.

Perry Glidewell is on his way back to Texas after winning another championship in the arena versus a bull. When he finds Sommer having a meltdown in the middle of a parking lot, he knows he can’t leave her alone. Since her hometown is near his, it makes sense to hit the road together.

Sommer never imagined falling for a cowboy. His manners and gallant attitude win her over quickly, but with her future uncertain, she’s not quite willing to give her whole heart to Perry. He’ll do whatever it takes to break the walls around Sommer’s heart, because beneath her tough-talking exterior, he sees she’s the type of Texas girl he’s always dreamed of.

 

EXCERPT:

Perry opened the door. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to steal my truck?”

She glowered. “Of course not. You snore. I thought I’d be able to sleep out here. I was asleep, until I turned a little and set off the alarm. I’m so sorry.” She handed him the keys and knocked something off the dash.

A lacy bra landed on his bare feet. His gaze shot straight to her chest. Sommer’s t-shirt was tight around her breasts and her nipples made perky bumps in the material.

Perry clenched his teeth. Of all the damn things to notice. He bent down and picked the bra up by the strap. “Think you lost something.”

She snatched the bra out of his hand. “You try sleeping in one of these.”

“Not really my style, sweetheart.”

“It’s not like I have a garment bag to store it in. Anyway, you snore really bad. It’s like the cross between a wood chipper and a rabid lion. I can’t spend the rest of the night listening to you.”

“You could have woke me up instead of alerting the whole world to where we are.” He shook his head. “You’re one strange lady.”

“Am not.” Her lower lip slid out and she folded her arms under her breasts, pushing them up higher.

About Allison Merritt:

A love of reading inspired Allison Merritt to pursue her dream of becoming an author who writes historical, paranormal and fantasy romances, often combining the sub-genres. She lives in a small town  in the Ozark Mountains with her husband and dogs. When she’s not writing or reading, she hikes in  national parks and conservation areas.

Allison graduated from College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri with a B.A. in mass communications that’s gathering dust after it was determined that she’s better at writing fluff than hard news.

Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Google+  |  Goodreads  |  Pinterest

 

 

Cowboy in Waiting by Leslie P. Garcia

She’d buried a hero. She wasn’t looking for another. But her cowboy in waiting was far from a hero…

Bury enough dreams, and you’re bound to grow up.

Diana Salas Chester is a rancher’s daughter and a hero’s widow. There isn’t a lot she can’t do, from raising her daughter Gwen to facing down the loss of dream after dream. And then a birthday celebration goes wrong, and Diana winds up in Border Patrol Agent Ray Bennett’s bed.

Not many of her acquaintances approve of Ray “Baby” Bennett. But is he just the cowboy she’s been waiting for? Ray Bennett spent his life running away from the demands of his cowboy brothers and the ranching life. So when he wakes up in bed with his Border Patrol partner’s sister, he doesn’t want the complications. But suddenly the choice isn’t his to make.

 

EXCERPT:

Across from him, Di straightened in her chair. He looked her over appreciatively. The halter dress she wore plunged deeply, the icy blue contrasting with a smooth, even tan that went enticingly lower than he would have expected. Compassion headed toward desire. Hell, toward lust. Maybe if the night went suddenly better…

She tilted her head a little, then shook it. “You…what kind of car do you drive?” she asked abruptly.

“Yellow Corvette.” He waited for the gleam of appreciation.

“Then you’re the idiot in the yellow car!” She closed her fingers around her drink glass so hard he thought it might break, and gulped half the drink before slamming it down again.

“I will never forgive Rachel for this—this nightmare! My best friend? How could she set me up with some stupid, stuck-up, oversexed jerk in a yellow car? Damn you, Rachel!”

He gaped for a moment, then slowly closed his mouth. “Just one thing,” he asked. “Who’s Rachel?”

About Leslie Garcia:

Leslie P. García grew up lost among a crowd of six siblings and a menagerie that included more than twenty horses and ponies, uncounted dogs and cats, possums, raccoons—even a lion and monkeys. Then she moved to Texas, fell in love, was disowned—and embarked on her real adventures, raising 4 children, teaching hundreds, and loving 9 grandkids through forty years of marriage. The fabric of that colorful life has always been writing. In A Cowboy Heart, Leslie celebrates two of her passions—cowboys and the ever present chance at redemption in spite of past mistakes. Leslie loves hearing from readers and can be found all over cyber space, including these places:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest  |  E-mail: lesliegarcia2000-author@yahoo.com

 

 

The Heartbroken Cowboy by Melissa Keir

Love isn’t found at the bottom of a bottle…

Johnson O’Neill joined The Heartsong Ranch to escape his addiction. One night at a friend’s wedding, stress causes him to fall off the wagon and into the arms of the woman of his dreams.

Debra Donahue lost her husband to alcohol then pulled herself up by her bootstraps becoming a million-dollar selling real estate agent. One night with a sexy cowboy and a bottle of whiskey, Debra falls hard.

Can an alcoholic cowboy and a brokenhearted woman find love despite their fears? Or will the bottom of a bottle claim another happily ever after?

 

EXCERPT:

“I don’t drink, but could use a strong one, right now. Not this sissy stuff.” He lifted the glass to his lips, downed the contents, and shoved his now-empty champagne flute away before he leaned in toward her. The smell of alcohol on his breath hinted that he’d already had too much to drink. “Know anyone around here with some whiskey?” The dark sapphire of his eyes chilled her. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. “I’d even share.” His voice deepened and became husky with his offer and she shivered.

“I don’t drink with men I don’t know.” Debra stuck out her hand. “I’m Debra, and you are?”

The man grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and guzzled the drink in one swallow. “The name’s Johnson O’Neill. Now about that whiskey.” He reached out and drew her up to standing then tugged her in close to him. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her body in a slow two-step motion.

Debra gazed into his eyes. “You don’t have to seduce me for the whiskey.” She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands on her hips. She frowned.

“That’s not why I drew you into my arms. You were tapping your foot when I arrived—and I thought you might like a dance. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” He stretched his palm out again in a plea.

About Melissa Keir:

Melissa Keir has always wanted to be an author when she wasn’t hoping for a career as a race car driver. Her love of books was instilled by her mother and grandparents who were avid readers. She’d often sneak books away from them so that she could fantasize about those strong alpha males and plucky heroines. In middle school and high school, Melissa used to write sappy love poems and shared them with her friends and still has those poems today! In college her writing changed to sarcastic musings on life as well as poems with a modern twist on fairy tales and won awards for her writing. You can find many of these musings along with her latest releases on her website and blog.

As a writer, Melissa likes to keep current on topics of interest in the world of writing. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America, Mid-Michigan RWA Chapter, and EPIC. She is always interested in improving her writing through classes and seminars.

Melissa doesn’t believe in down time. She’s always keeping busy. Melissa is a wife and mother, an elementary school teacher, a movie reviewer, an owner of a publishing company as well as an author. Her home blends two families and is a lot like the Brady Bunch, without Alice- a large grocery bill, tons of dirty dishes and a mound of laundry. She loves to write stories that feature happy endings and is often seen plotting her next story.

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  | Facebook Page  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads

 

 

Cowboy in Trouble by Autumn Piper

A cowboy on the run and a girl on the rebound make for a messy fling.

Colby may be having the worst day ever. He wakes up at gunpoint, “hired” by a stranger to do a new job he doesn’t want. Worried the load he’s hauling is contraband, he walks off the job once he’s out of sight of his new employer. Running may not be his best plan, but he needs time to find a way out of this mess.

Delta’s day starts off rough when her pickup stalls on the side of the road. Lucky for her, a handsome cowboy comes along and works mechanical magic on the poor old truck. They strike a deal: he’ll help her out around the farm in exchange for a place to lay low for a few days. He turns out to be handy in all the right ways. A real keeper…not that she’s interested in keeping a man right now. She can afford a rebound fling, but nothing more.

Besides, once Colby gets rid of the crime boss breathing down his neck, he’ll hit the trail. A rodeo circuit cowboy from Oklahoma wouldn’t want to stick around on a little farm in Colorado. Or would he?

 

EXCERPT:

The door across the hall opened and by the time she turned around, Colby stood there in nothing but a towel. Hubbahubba, a very small towel, since she kept her nice big ones downstairs and hadn’t remembered to provide him one.

Um. Dripping, mostly naked, and looking as surprised as she felt… Wow. Those shoulders looked even better without a shirt. He had the prettiest eyes. Did guys like their eyes being called pretty? Whatever. Nice green-gray. And oh, how she’d appreciate a wardrobe malfunction right about now, just a little slippage of that towel. Although the healthy bulge beneath might not allow it to slip far.

“Ahem.”

“Er,” she answered ever-so-intelligently. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” he said at the same time. “Forgot my bag in here.”

Caught leering. Her face must be flame-red. “Thought I had time to make up the bed for you.”

“I’ll just…” He indicated his bag on the floor by the window.

“Oh. Sure.” She stepped aside so he could get to it. Lord, please grant us a wardrobe malfunction…

He picked up his bag without the towel slipping, although she had to say it had soaked up water in some prime spots and clung just right.

As he passed by her, he paused, and she tore her eyes away. Reluctantly. God. Her mother had definitely taught her it was rude to stare. The poor guy probably worried she’d attack him in the night. He was hot enough, it had probably happened before.

“Ditto,” he said.

“Huh?”

With his free hand, he rubbed his thumb over her chin. “Whatever you’re thinking, right back atcha.” Looking up into his eyes was like riding the downhill part of a rollercoaster. Her heart screamed Weeeee!

About Autumn Piper:

Born and raised in itty-bitty Rifle, Colorado, Autumn Piper studiously avoided trouble…but is now inclined toward it, particularly in her novels. She thinks the best things in life are funny, and the runners-up, romantic.

An admitted carb addict, Autumn writes, edits, manages two teenagers, two cats, a box turtle with a huge personality, one husband and many supersize houseplants, and does the cooking and cleaning when forced to.

To sign up for Autumn’s occasional newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/105424/join

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon Page 

 

 

A Cowboy’s Heaven by Sara Walter Ellwood

From the hell of lost love, can they find heaven together?

Katie Chester is alone in the world. After losing her husband and then her parents, she’s left to run Heaven, a thousand-acre ranch encompassing nearly an entire Montana mountain. She rents out a suite of rooms, but ends up with a boarder who shakes her to her foundation.

When Pennsylvanian ex-Army doctor Collin Kirkpatrick lost his wife a year ago, he lost his world. He needs to escape the pain, and where better than in an isolated town in the West? He answers an ad for resident doctor in Evansville, Montana, but is surprised to find Heaven and the angel residing there.

But can they leave their grief and pain in the past to blaze a new path into the future?

 

EXCERPT:

He smirked at her as he sat beside her on the hay bale. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at all. You’re actually a pleasant surprise, Dr. Kirkpatrick.”

“I hope in a good way.” He winked at her and quirked his lips up into a lopsided smile, then turned his attention fully on the cow and calf, and leaned over his long legs with his elbow planted on his knees.

The calf suddenly lurched herself onto her back feet and Collin grinned from ear to ear. “She’s a beauty.”

Dear God, he more than surprised her, he overwhelmed her, and yes, it was in a good way. A very good way.

Katie let out a breath and violently shivered. He picked up the discarded blanket and pulled it over her legs. “You’re going to catch your death. Were you out in this cold all day?”

She nodded and swallowed. No way could she tell him that the sensation had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with him.

With a deep breath to steady her racing heart, she watched as the calf latched onto one of her mother’s teats and started sucking with loud, hungry pulls.

“We can go inside in a few moments.” Sweet mercy, was that low, husky voice hers?

Collin only nodded as they watched the miracle of life before him.

About Sara Walter Ellwood:

Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood is a multi-published author and publishes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter Signup

 

 

Cowboy Proud by D’Ann Lindun

She left town to chase her dreams… He stayed and ignored his… Can they find their dreams together?

All Madeline Harper ever wanted was to escape the tight fences of Black Mountain, Colorado. Nothing would stop her from pursuing her goals–not a devoted boyfriend or infant son. Leaving everything behind, she landed her dream job as a Western Girl jeans model. Her sister’s wedding is the only thing that can entice her home. What she learns upon her return shakes her to the core…and changes everything.

For the last five years Shan Ellis’ life has consisted of taking care of his son and being a cowhand on his parents’ ranch. He scarified everything to be a single dad. College. A career. Girls. Now, the one woman he can’t forget is back in town. Can he take a chance, and risk his heart, or steer clear and never know what might have been?

 

EXCERPT:

This is how Shan had always pictured his life.

Doing what he loved with his wife and children.

Like him, Mason lived to be with the horses and cows. Too bad his mother hated the cowboy lifestyle with a passion. Shan couldn’t forget that for a second. Madeline Harper had ripped out his guts once before—he’d be damned if he’d let her do it again. Even if she wore a mile-wide smile and looked as at home on the back of a horse, herding cows as well as any cowgirl she wasn’t happy here. He couldn’t make her love the life, their son or him.

His good mood faded.

Last night, Callie Donovan had all but mounted him on the dance floor. He liked her well enough, but turned down her advances because he couldn’t get his mind off the dark-haired beauty from his past. In the five years since Maddy left town he’d held onto to the hope she’d return.

He was a fool.

Nothing had changed. He wanted a family; she craved fame and fortune.

About D’Ann Lindun:

Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there’s just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!

D’Ann loves to hear from readers! Please contact her at:

Website  |  Facebook Page  |  Twitter  |  Amazon Page  |  Email:  dldauthor@frontier.net

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The New Room – The Perfect Submissive is struck again… by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee)

Many thanks to Kd for inviting me to her blog today to talk about The New Room, the novella length finale that wraps up The Perfect Submissive Trilogy. It’s time for Miss Jess Sanders to have one more erotically demanding challenge- but this time it’s in the name of love…

 

The New Room- Per Sub shortBlurb

Miss Jess Sanders, resident submissive of the Fables Hotels adult entertainment floor, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.

With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the new room.

Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, and with the assistance of her colleagues, Lee and Sam, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for…at freezing temperatures.

With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters new room, and beyond…

***

Of all the erotically centred characters I have created over the years, Miss Jess Sanders has to be one of my favourites. Despite her submissive status- or perhaps because of it- her bravery is unending. She has more strength and stamina within her than many of the Doms she encounters, and although she is merely a figment of my own imagination, I am really very proud of her determination never to fail- a determination she’ll have to call on once more in The New Room.

Extract-

…With a shove of her bound hands against the small of her back, Jess was bent forward so that her feet remained flat upon the floor. Her belly and chest were laid across the throne’s cushion, while her forehead rested uncomfortably on the wooden seat next to it.

The volume of the music increased, and Jess wondered if that meant it would soon have to drown out a greater level of background noise.

As Jess’ companion ordered her to close her eyes, a further wave of uncertainty added to the submissive’s anxiety. She didn’t recognise the voice. It didn’t belong to either Max or Lee. This was a stranger.

Even with the cloak hanging over her back, Jess’ flesh felt an oddly clammy chill of foreboding mingle with the cold. As her nipples buffed against the cording that ran around the edge of the throne’s satin cushion, the sole thought hammering in Jess’ head was, Who is this man?

The Fables had no new male member of staff that Jess was aware of. Although it was possible someone had been hired and no one had told her. Wishing she’d thought to ask Mrs Peters if she had permission to speak during the training session, but not wanting to risk her superior’s wrath by assuming she could, Jess clamped her jaw against the need to ask the owner of the fingers that were exploring the curve of her backside with growing confidence, who the hell he was.

Her neck was beginning to stiffen against the hard chair seat. Jess was just wishing the pressure of the cushion against her chest wasn’t so arousing when the anonymous palms abruptly stilled. All but for the thumbs – which continued to work in small sweeping circles, the simple move pushing Jess’ sex addicted body to silently plead for the man to flick up her cloak and thrust himself into her from behind. Now!

The sound of the door opening again made Jess’ breath catch in her throat as she lay over the chairs. Who else had joined them? Jess’ unspoken question was quickly answered, as the imperial voice of the Fables’ fifth floor manageress addressed the man, who was now kneading Jess’ butt cheeks as if they were mounds of dough.

‘I trust Miss Sanders has been obedient for you, Mr Grant?’

‘Oh yes, Mrs Peters.’ Mr Grant’s voice was husky and dripped as much with disbelief as it did lust.

‘Has the girl spoken, asked questions, or hesitated in her obedience to your requests in anyway? Even fractionally? ’

‘Not one word. Not so much as a pause. The girl is as well schooled as you told me she was.’ The tone of Mr Grant’s voice told Jess that he hadn’t expected her to be the submissive her boss had evidently boasted her to be.

‘I only employ the best, Mr Grant.’ Even though she couldn’t see her, the satisfaction in Mrs Peters’ voice warmed Jess a little against the cold. ‘I have to say I’m impressed with what you’ve built for us. This is precisely the grotto I had in mind. Would you like the tip for your services now, or would you like to be a spectator for a while and take your reward for a job well done afterwards?’

Mr Grant’s gulp was clearly audible as his hands rested over Jess’ hips. Instinct sent her butt up towards him.

Hoping that Mrs Peters hadn’t noticed the unauthorised move, Jess squeezed her eyes together tighter, willing her companion to take his reward now. She desperately wanted his cock inside her.

‘As much as I’d like to witness what you’ve planned, Mrs Peters, I have business elsewhere.’ Mr Grant’s voice was getting huskier, and Jess could hear how close he was to coming already. She doubted that he genuinely had other business. It was more likely that he simply wasn’t able to wait to experience the pliability of the submissive’s flesh. The edgy urgency in his voice was something Jess had heard from many a male hotel guest over the past eighteen months.

Mrs Peters nodded, ‘Then you may proceed…’

***

If you enjoyed that, and would like to know what happens next, you can buy The New Room from-

Amazon UK | Amazon US

The New Room is best enjoyed if you have already read The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, which is available as either individual book (e-book or paperback) or in a box set (eBook only) from all good suppliers, including-

Amazon UK | Amazon US

Per Sub Box set

Thanks again for letting me come and visit today Kd!

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

sized- 711x430Bio-

Kay Jaybee was nominated as the Best Erotica Writer of 2013 and 2014 by the ETO.

Kay wrote the The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (Xcite, 2011-14), Making Him Wait, (Sweetmeats Press, 2012), The Voyeur (Xcite, 2012), as well as the novellas, Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man (2nd ed. 1001 NightsPress, 2013), Digging Deep (Xcite, 2013), A Sticky Situation, (Xcite, 2012), and The Circus, (Sweetmeats Press). She has also written the anthologies The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 2012 & 2008), The Best of Kay Jaybee (Xcite, 2012), Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Equipment, (All Romance, 2012), Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books, 2011), Quick Kink One and Quick Kink Two (Xcite e-books, 2010). Kay has had over 100 short stories published by Cleis Press, Black Lace, Mammoth, Xcite, Penguin, Seal, and Sweetmeats Press.

Details of Kay’s work, past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on Twitter- kay_jaybee,

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

 

Romance and Eroticism by Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger)

Click here to view the tour schedule

Click image to view the tour schedule

Thank you for hosting today! Recently I got asked what my idea of romance and eroticism is, so I thought I’d take the time today to answer that question.

I may have a problem – it has been noted by quite a few (male) friends, that I think like a man. This is not a good thing when you’re supposed to be a romance author. I can’t even blame growing up in a male environment because I grew up in a small village, living with my mum and two of my sisters, my dad worked on the oil rigs so was a way a lot. It was a very female-orientated life. Still, I think like a man. Apparently.

I am not a flowers and hearts girl. I’m allergic to lilies and daffodils, well any high pollinating flower, for a start. I’m seriously crap at remembering things like birthdays and anniversaries, and don’t even get me started on Valentine’s Day! I much prefer March 14th… (If you don’t get that reference, ask the nearest man.) A romantic night in, as far as I’m concerned, involves a takeaway curry, a cup of tea, and a good action or thriller movie. If it has Channing Tatum or Will Smith in it, that would be a bonus.

Eroticism… Well maybe I’m more female on this one… What do I find erotic? Fit, sexy, and tattooed. Think Steve McGarrett (Hawaii Five-O), Agent Booth (Bones) or Oliver Queen (Arrow). Muscles and ink, and I’m weak at the knees. It’s terrible when I go to the gym – to get fit, obviously – and am surrounded by these hot hunks. But eroticism isn’t just about the person is it? It’s about the situation, the surroundings.

I’m a sucker for a powerful man. Now I’m not saying I want to be thrown onto the bed and tied down, but there is nothing more erotic than a man who knows what he wants, and knows how to get it. No, I’m not talking about any varying shades of gray. I’m talking strong, determined, and sane. I do not want a broken piece of china that needs gluing back together. I want Kevlar. I want someone who can look after me. A knight in shining armour on his glorious steed.

Romance and eroticism don’t have to wear a business suit or high heels. They can easily come in a pair of scruffy jeans and work boots. And that is what I hope I put into The Final Straight. Max is as far from business-like as possible, but he is still a force to be reckoned with. April is not your make-up wearing, mini-skirt clad, broken girl. She wears boots and a riding hat, but she’s still a hot woman. AJ… Well he’s AJ, and you’ll just have to read the book to find out what he’s like.

 

The Final Straight by Charlotte HowardExcerpt:

“I should go,” April yawned, watching as he scraped food into the bin and placed plates into the dishwasher.

“You’re staying the night,” he insisted.

“We’ve been through this a hundred times,” she sighed. Her hands waved between them. “This can never happen.”

He gave her a disappointed look. “We could have a little bit of fun.” He gave her a playful smile. “You never know what might develop.”

“I should stop drinking around you. Every time…” She didn’t stop him when he grabbed her hips and rocked her from side to side. “You know exactly where it would go. You forget that unlike your bits on the side, I know you. You’ll wake up in the morning and regret it. You’ll try to placate me with empty promises, and then in a couple of months you’ll find someone taller, thinner, and sexier, and I will be left alone.”

“I would never cheat on you,” he said, honesty brimming through the firmness of his voice. “You are the only girl for me.”

“Please don’t,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “We want different things…”

“Okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “Spare room it is.”

“Thank you.” She stepped back and looked at him. There was a sadness in his dark brown eyes, one that hurt her heart. “We are okay aren’t we?”

“We’re great,” he said with a small smile.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you as a friend. Let’s not get serious again.”

“Okay.” He nodded. They smiled and kissed each other on the cheek; a signature on their unspoken agreement to remain just friends.

 

 

Blurb / Buy Links

April Miller works for her best-friend, Max Knight on his livery and competition yard. Their friendship has withstood many turbulent times, and while April is deeply in love with Max, she is also aware of his womanising ways and has refused to succumb to his flirtatious charms. When her ex, AJ, suddenly comes back with a business proposal, April finds herself torn between the two men.

http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/the-final-straight.htm
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00SW7GE26
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00SW7GE26
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/514851
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-final-straight/id962554508
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-final-straight
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-final-straight-charlotte-howard/1121135931

 

Bio / Links

Charlotte lives in Somerset with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets and can always be found with a cup of tea in her hand. When she’s not writing or running around after small people and animals, she loves to eat curry and watch action films.

Charlotte is an active (and vocal) member of the Yeovil Creative Writers.

www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk
http://choward2614.wordpress.com
www.facebook.com/charlottehowardauthor
www.facebook.com/chowardauthor
http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/index.htm
www.twitter.com/shy_tiger
https://www.pinterest.com/choward2614/
https://instagram.com/choward_author/

 

GIVEAWAY!

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D&S Duos Book 2 BDSM Erotica by Lisabet Sarai

Duos2_400Blurb D&S Duos Book 2:

D&S Duos Book 2 continues Lisabet Sarai’s incendiary series with two more intense BDSM short stories. In “Never Too Late”, a middle-aged wife and mother encounters the Master of whom she’s secretly dreamed all her life. In “Just a Spanking”, a dominant provides an answer to the question he’s asked his long-time submissive: could you come from just a spanking? Also includes a spicy F/F BDSM excerpt from Lisabet’s erotic thriller EXPOSURE.

Excerpt:

He lounges in a chair by the window. The drapes are open. The lights of the Inner Harbor sparkle on the other side of the glass. The room is dim and I’m briefly grateful. Perhaps he will not notice my flaws.

“Good evening, Elizabeth.” He doesn’t rise. He makes me come to him. I stand before him, eyes cast down, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. Sweat pools under my arms, spoiling my best silk blouse. Moisture gathers in my pussy.

“Um – I don’t even know your name,” I stutter.

“Yes, you do. Think.”

I recreate my memory of him, from that fateful moment when I stepped into the lift and found it occupied. Tall, a bit overweight, but distinguished in his tailored charcoal suit. Black hair, dark eyes, brows that arched in appreciation as he surveyed me. I struggle to recall his badge. Even before he had spoken, I’d been flustered and aroused. Distracted. “Mark?” I say finally, a half guess.

“Good girl. You see, you know more about me than you think you do. You know you can trust me, don’t you?”

“What?” Before I understand what’s happening, he’s looming over me, taking possession of my mouth, rolling my rigid nipples between his finger and thumb and kindling sparks. He tastes of the after-dinner mints they offer in the hotel coffee shop. His hands explore my body, weighing my breasts, groping my ass. Helpless, beyond rationality, I melt again.

“You know instinctively,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m the master you’ve dreamed of.” He nips the tender flesh of the lobe hard enough to make me cry out. “I’m the one who will make you beg for mercy and scream with pleasure.”

“No,” I say. “I haven’t. I can’t. I’m married.” My pro forma protests are weak, even to my own ears. He is already tearing the clothing from me. The first time his fingers graze my bare skin, electricity sizzles along the surface, down to my cunt. I moan, pressing against his still-clothed body. He chuckles and steps away.

“Turn around. Let me look at you. Especially at that fat ass.” My face burns with embarrassment as I follow his instructions. It never occurs to me to object. I feel his eyes on the butt that I can’t seem to shrink no matter how many hours I spend on the Stairmaster.

“Lovely,” he says and I glow with pride. He is pleased. That’s all I seem to need. He strokes my ample backside. When he moves away again, I nearly cry from the loss.

“I want you across my lap. I want to turn that pale flesh of yours a nice, rosy pink.”

I obey. I can’t believe that I’m doing it, but I stretch myself along his thighs. The fine wool of his slacks is distended at the groin. I rub my damp bush against the hard mass of his erection, the emotional pleasure almost trumping the physical. He wants me. That’s all that really matters.

 

Buy Links

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/D-S-Duos-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00T8G2IMU

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/D-S-Duos-Book-2-ebook/dp/B00T8G2IMU/

Excessica: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=827

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/d-s-duos-lisabet-sarai/1121171237?ean=2940150011359

M/f BDSM Erotica

Published February 6, 2015 by Excessica.com

Approximately 7,500 words

Twitter: Lisabet Sarai dishes out more hot BDSM in D&S Duos 2: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RODBLXQ/

#bdsmerotica #spanking #bondage #submission

 

About Lisabet

Brief Bio

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. Learn more at http://www.lisabetsarai.com.

 

Links:

Website: http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list

 
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The Romance Reviews

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