• Home
  • Archive by category 'Guest Blogger'
  • Page 38

Archive for ‘Guest Blogger’

I Left My Heart in Chicago by Megan Morgan (@morgan_romance)

tourbutton_onenightinchicago

I live in Cleveland, Ohio but my favorite city on Earth is Chicago—I want to live there someday, as long as the Universe cooperates. So of course, when I wanted to write for the City Nights series I chose Chicago as my setting.

Chicago is a six-hour drive from Cleveland and a lot of people here visit it regularly. Some people even run businesses here and live in Chicago, commuting back and forth. A six-hour drive or a one-hour plane trip—not so bad, really. Cleveland is a small city and Chicago is a huge metropolis, so the two are very different and the lure of Chicago is tremendous.

The first time I went to Chicago, I took the Megabus (a cheap no-frills bus service between various US cities) overnight and stepped off the bus at dawn, right next to the Sears Tower (now Willis Tower), the tallest building in the US. I was instantly in love. I’d fallen in love at my first glimpse of downtown from the Skyway as we approached. Despite being exhausted from my trip, I immediately wanted to go see every tourist attraction in the city; unfortunately, it was only six a.m., so I had to wait a bit!

During my first visit, I went to three of Chicago’s must-see attractions: Navy Pier, Millennium Park, and the top of the Sears/Willis Tower. My characters visit all these spots in One Night in Chicago. I’ve been back to Chicago numerous times since and seen many other parts of the city. My most recent visit was in January and I would love to go again later this year.

I love to write about Chicago. My urban fantasy series from Kensington Books is also set in Chicago. I hope I do the city justice, since I can’t call it home yet. Like me, in One Night in Chicago, my characters don’t live there but visit the city because they had an amazing romantic weekend there early in their relationship. They’ve decided to break up, but intend to have one last good time together—but perhaps instead, the Windy City will remind them why they fell in love in the first place.

I hope you’ll enjoy Chicago virtually through my writing as much as I do in real life!

 

One_Night_in_Chicago_by_Megan_Morgan-200Excerpt:

She bought a shot glass, some postcards, a pen, and a keychain with her name on one side and the Chicago skyline, lit with little lights, on the other.

She dangled the keychain in front of Malcolm’s face. “Come on, this is a work of art. Look at the lights.”

“They’ll burn out in two days.” He batted it. “You’re the worst impulse shopper I’ve ever met.”

“Some of us like to have fun.” She strolled to the windows. “Just because you’re a boring old man doesn’t mean we all have to be.”

“I’m far from boring. I would think after four years you wouldn’t use that word to describe me.”

“You can be overbearing, sometimes.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “A wet blanket.”

“I’m reasonable. You can be a bit of a child, if we’re gonna go there. Sometimes you don’t think about the consequences before you act. You just jump in.”

“Don’t worry, after tomorrow I won’t be your problem to babysit.”

He sighed. “I don’t think of it as babysitting. I just thought…maybe after four years we learned something from each other. You know, you help me loosen up, I keep you grounded.”

She took a picture out the window with her phone. “I guess not.”

“You don’t think we’ve rubbed off on each other at all?”

She turned and snapped a picture from a different angle. “It doesn’t seem like it, does it? I mean, here we are, still arguing about the same crap.”

“Surely we’re taking something good from this.” Malcolm followed her as she moved along the railing. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”

She turned to him. “No. But when it was bad, it was really bad. That’s why this is happening.”

“You’re supposed to say I made you a better person.” Forced humor tinged his voice. “That you’ll always be grateful for the things you learned from me.”

She dropped her phone back in her purse. “Is that all you’re concerned about, that I ‘learned’ something from you?”

“No. But I was hoping we changed each other for the better.”

“Are you changed for the better?”

“I am, actually.”

She gazed out the windows, across the vast expanse of water.

“I feel like I’m not the uptight jerk I once was. Like you taught me how to have a little fun.”

“Yet, you’re still a workaholic.”

“It’s my job! Tay, it’s okay to have fun, but you gotta put in some hard work to have good things. You know that better than anyone. You’re gonna have to work hard in California. Your dream will still take time.”

Anger tightened her chest. “I know that.”

“But it’s okay to dream. It’s okay to look forward to the day when everything you want comes to you.”

“If it does, right?” She snorted. “This could all be a losing game. Why, I might be back in New York and in your arms again before the end of the year.”

He turned toward the window, placing his hands on the railing. “I want you to have your dreams. I wouldn’t mind if you were still in my arms.”

 

Blurb:

Breaking up is hard to do, especially after four years together.

Taylor Middleton, a singer striving for her big break, and her boyfriend Malcolm Darling, a mover and shaker in the music business, have decided to call it quits. Taylor wants to take her onstage persona—Gracie M—to LA, where she hopes bright lights and big dreams await.

But before they break up, the two decide to spend one last night in Chicago, the city where they once shared a passionate, romantic weekend, in hopes of preserving some good memories. In Chicago, Taylor realizes she’s not so sure about taking her talents elsewhere, as Malcolm reminds her why she fell in love—and lust—with him. Taylor may soon discover the right man, like music, can set her free and make all her dreams come true.

 

Purchase at:

Kindle USKindle UK, Smashwords, AppleKoboNook

 

authorpicAuthor Bio:

Megan Morgan is an urban fantasy, romance, and erotica author from Cleveland, Ohio. Bartender by day and purveyor of things that go bump in the night, she’s trying to turn writing into her day job so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. She’s a member of the RWA and author of the Siren Song urban fantasy series from Kensington Books, as well as numerous other shorter, sexy, smutty works.

Website: http://www.meganmorganauthor.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/morgan_romance
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/megan.morgan.author
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/meganmorganauthor
Email: meganmorganauthor@gmail.com

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/megan-morgan/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

New Release – Fall (Natalie’s Edge #2) by R.B. O’Brien #EARTG #BDSM #romance #erotica

nataliesedgeseries

Blurb:

At the edge of trust often lies a little betrayal…

As Shakespeare wrote, “The course of true love never did run smooth,” and the love between Michael L. Black and Natalie Smith is no exception.

Having fallen deeply in love with one another, Michael and Natalie’s passionate and, at times, tumultuous relationship continues to teeter on the edge of happiness as they explore their deepest and sometimes darkest desires of games, bondage, and sex. Michael’s dominant tendencies thrive as Natalie craves to submit her body and mind to him, bringing her to sometimes excruciating pleasure. Love never felt so right.

But their relationship will be tested. Truths are hidden. Secrets are revealed. And when Michael’s insecurities inflame his penchant for control and punishment, all the trust and love they have worked so hard to build dismantles itself within one split second. Will they forgive and trust one another again? Or will the betrayal leave them on the edge of devastation?

Buy Links:

Extasy Books
Amazon UK
Amazon US

 

fallEXCERPT:

He crouched over me, like a lion over its prey, his eyes burning holes into my body, looking me up and down, undressing me, and fucking me with his now black eyes. I couldn’t help but moan, losing any anger I had towards him. Only lust remained as I squirmed under his gaze. He rolled onto his side.
“Stand up. Take off your costume, Natalie. Let me look at you. And do not hesitate, do not overthink this, or become shy, or let your guilt take over. Obey me this time, would you? I want to see your body. You’ve teased me enough with this outfit tonight, don’t you think?”
Oh my god. I had teased him? What? To think that I had some effect on him, the way he affected me all the time, was liberating, empowering. I slowly stripped as he stayed lying down on the rug, head propped on his elbow, staring up at me. I was embarrassed at how quickly I had lost my anger, how quickly I always lost my anger around him. Only moments earlier, I was ready to tear into him, give him a solid piece of my mind. Now, I was dripping wet and at his mercy. I liked obeying him. Plain and simple. It turned me on.
“Wait. Leave on those tiny, taunting panties of yours, and put your pointe shoes back on. Get up on your toes, Natalie, and stay there for me. Let the fire warm and illuminate your beautiful body.”
My empowerment was lost, replaced with an uncomfortable embarrassment, but I did exactly as he asked. I finished tying up my pointe shoes, got on my toes with my back facing him, the fire warming my front, and looked over my shoulder at him shyly. He just stayed there, staring at me, for what felt like an eternity. But god, I wanted him more than I ever had before. “You are so frustrating,” I whispered. “I was so mad at you.”
“Sssh. No talking,” he said darkly. “Stay right there. Do not move a muscle. Or I will punish you.”
I obeyed, staying on my toes, tightening the muscles in my legs, my ass. It was beginning to hurt.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, barely above a whisper.
“Michael. It’s starting to hurt. I can’t hold it much longer.”
“Good. I want you to hurt for me. I want you to feel what I felt earlier.”
I could feel my body weakening. I began to shake. I looked back at him, pleading with my eyes for him to stop, and yet, I loved his control. I had a sick desire to obey him at all turns. Pain and pleasure always felt right with him.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he finally said, “Good girl. Come over here.” He smirked at the power he wielded over me. “Lie down next to me on your stomach. Spread your legs. I am going to grant your wish.”
I held my breath, as again, I did exactly as he asked, lying down on my stomach, inches away from his body. The cramps in my legs slowly subsided. He turned my face to the side to force me to look at him. “Breathe, Natalie,” he instructed as I exhaled into his now probing mouth. He flicked his tongue and sucked my mouth. I moaned and began to grind slightly into the soft, plush rug that tickled my body underneath it. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. There was no other contact between us. I wanted his cock in me.
“Fuck me,” I begged again.
“Yes,” he said, but did nothing but continue to kiss me, holding my swollen mouth to his with his hands tightly gripping my hair. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t move.
“Michael…”
He released my hair. I felt the heavy pressure of his lips against mine. He began to lightly flick his tongue on my tongue, teasingly, sensually. He was dripping in confidence as he smiled and licked me endlessly. I had never been turned on like this from mere kissing. My pussy throbbed, lying on my stomach, waiting in anticipation for him to fuck me.
He stopped all contact with me and stood up, slowly removing his jeans to reveal his throbbing cock. He smoothed a condom over it and saying nothing, he stood over me, removed my soaking wet panties, and spread my legs wide with his feet until I was sprawled out completely in front of him, flat on my stomach. I wiggled my pussy into the rug, and he still said nothing. He didn’t tell me to lie still. He didn’t tell me to be quiet. He just stood there, agonizingly, over me, as I lay there, feeling exposed and helpless and full of want and need.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he got down on his knees and again, just stayed there, tracing his fingers over my pointe shoes, up my calves over the ribbon laces, as my breathing quickened and my chest rose and fell in heaving anticipation. I was starting to lose my mind, panting, squirming, and wanting.
“Please,” I begged.
He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit, exposing its wetness and I moaned, lifting my ass a bit in the air to reach his cock. Again, he said nothing, but he thrust his palms forcefully on my ass and lower back, pressing me into the soft fabric of the rug again. He held me in place, legs spread wide, as he tickled my pussy and clit with the light stroke of his cock. I moaned and started to grind against his cock and he slammed it into me, startling me.

Author Bio and Links:

I can’t remember not reading.  Even now, I constantly toggle between two to five books on my Kindle in all genres.  But I have always been drawn to the more taboo side of storytelling, even as a young adult, from hiding books from my strict Catholic parents as a tween, to getting lost in the erotic section of my favorite bookstore for hours as a college student, discovering such greats as Henry Miller and Pauline Réage.

In my own writing, which I can’t describe as anything but a “trance-like compulsion,” I like to explore the darker nature of relationships, those riddled with the reality of insecurities and human folly.  I am drawn to expose the vulnerability, emotional turmoil, and occasional pain that can come from losing oneself in the heat of passion.

I hold a degree in English literature and happily reside in the Northeast. I teach English and Shakespeare by day and write erotica every other chance I get. My writing comes from some hidden, unrecognizable place, very different from the reality of my waking world.  I am in love with E.E. Cummings and try to embrace the philosophical idea of “Since Feeling is First” when I write my stories.

Email:  rbobrien120@gmail.com
Websitehttp://rbobrien.weebly.com
Twitterhttps://twitter.com/rbobrien120
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rbobrien120
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25542300-fall

releaseblitz_fall

 

Her Own Devices by Lisabet Sarai #lesbianerotica #lisabetsarai #steampunk

Her Own DevicesBlurb

In Her Own Devices, Lisabet Sarai collects her favorite stories of lesbian desire into a single volume. Meet Ally, former gang member, whose fears losing her identity along with her tattoos in the skilled hands of laser technician Luisa. Get to know butch firefighter Wilhemina “Billie” Macdonald, struggling to recover from the disastrous accident that killed her best buddy, with the help of a rather unconventional psychotherapist. Lick your lips at Goth rock chick Mina, barely into her twenties but brazen as sin, and velvet-clad, cigar-smoking Silicon Valley siren Dr. Marta Hausman.  Share Sister Kathleen Patrick’s confusion and arousal as she finds herself drawn to a most unsuitable partner. Experience submissive femme Jana’s ultimate surrender to her Daddy’s ropes, clamps, and ice cream sundae.

Each of these nine luscious tales will introduce you to distinctively different women. Each demonstrates that, left to her own devices, a woman can find what she needs—passion, comfort, love, healing—in another woman’s arms.

Buy Links

Direct from Ladylit:
ePub for for iPad, iPhone, Sony eReader, Nook and other devices
Mobi for Kindle
PDF for any computer or device

 

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon DE
Amazon AUS
All Romance
Smashwords

 

Add to your Goodreads Shelf:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25524363-her-own-devices

 

Excerpt

I should have taken the subway. I didn’t want to ruin my suit in the rain, but that hardly mattered now. I was just about to give up and walk when I saw a cab with his light on, halfway up the block. Juggling briefcase, purse and umbrella, I scrambled through the crowd on the sidewalk. He might be my last chance.

He was stuck in traffic. I prayed that the signal didn’t change. Just as I reached him, a black-clad figure pushed past me and wrenched the door open.

“Hey! That’s my cab!”

“No way, lady. I got here first.” The girl grinned at me, pale makeup and purple lipstick giving her a ghoulish quality. She started to climb into the vehicle but I grabbed her sleeve.

“I’m late. I need this cab. It’s terribly important. You can take the next one.”

“You think that I don’t have important places to go?” She pulled her arm from my grasp, further stretching her already misshapen sweater. “I’ve got rehearsal in half an hour. Now get out of my way.”

She tried to elbow past me. Desperate, knowing I’d feel bad later, I snatched her shoulder bag and threw it on the sidewalk.

“You bitch!” As she ducked down to pick it up, I slid into the taxi. Before I could slam the door, though, she pushed in after me, jabbing me in the ribs with her umbrella. The door closed just as the traffic light turned green.

“Where to, ladies?”  The cabbie was torn between annoyance and amusement.

“Ow! 32nd and Lex, please.” I could barely get the words out.

“No, don’t listen to her. Houston, near Varick. Step on it!”

“Ignore her. I was in the cab first. If you don’t take me to Murray Hill immediately, I’ll report you.”

A truck cut in front of us. The driver stomped on the brakes, hurling our bodies forward.  The girl let out a wail as her forehead hit the plexiglass partition. I was smothered by sudden remorse.

“Are you all right? Miss?” She slumped down in the seat, looking dazed. A bruise was already reddening above her left eyebrow. “Can you hear me?” She nodded vaguely.

“You should be wearing your seat belts,” the driver commented. I fastened mine, then reached around the young woman’s slight figure to secure hers. From her drenched garments rose a funk of damp wool and marijuana. Multiple steel rings pierced her earlobes. On her pale neck, below her right ear, was a neatly etched tattoo of a skull. Under her shapeless sweater she wore a snug black V-necked jersey. Guilt tightened its grip on me when I realized I was admiring her cleavage.

I leaned toward the driver. “Go ahead to Houston as she asked. She needs help.”

“No, that’s okay.” Her voice quavered a bit. “I’m all right. You can stop at 32nd first. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She fingered the swelling on her forehead. “The band can wait. I’m the lead singer. They can’t start without me.”

“Look, I’m sorry about grabbing your bag. That was really rude.”

She grinned, showing an even line of white teeth that contrasted with her livid mouth. “Yeah, it was. Not what I’d expect from a fancy executive like you.”

About Lisabet Sarai

LISABET SARAI writes in many genres, but F/F fiction is one of her favorites. Her lesbian erotica credits include contributions to Lambda Award winner Where the Girls Are, Ippie-winning Carnal Machines, Best Lesbian Romance 2012, Forbidden Fruit: Stories of Unwise Lesbian  Desire,  and Lammy-nominated Coming Together: Girl on Girl. Her story “The Late Show” appears in the recently released Best Lesbian Erotica 2015. Her first stand-alone lesbian title, The Witches of Gloucester, was release in March by LadyLit.

Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her explicit literary endeavors. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her writing. For all the dirt on Lisabet, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com).

 

Out Now – The Alpha Match by Leigh Archer (Untamed Safari Book #1) (@leigharcherbook) #romance #contemporary

The_Alpha_Match_by_Leigh_Archer-500RED-HOT ROMANCE GOES ON SAFARI  

English conservationist, Caro Hannah, and South African, Ben Duval, must work together on a project to introduce endangered wild dogs to an African game reserve, four years after their love affair ended. The challenges of their profession pale into insignificance beside the personal obstacles they must overcome in order to either bring closure to the events of four years before, or reignite a passion hot enough to burn up the African bush.

The Alpha Match is the first in a series set in the African bush where luxury tented camps and romantic hideaways are havens for royals, celebrities and the adventurous at heart. The Untamed Safari Series places unforgettable men and women in this captivating setting and holds its breath as they play out their red-hot passions.

 

BUY LINKS:

Tirgearr Publishing: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Archer_Leigh/the-alpha-match.htm

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

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1buj6b7

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/528008?ref=cw1985

 

 

EXCERPT

Caro was aware that her voice was rising, but she could do nothing to stop it. Now was as good a time as any to speak her mind. ‘As a matter of fact, if you could stop all the wars on this planet, solve world hunger and reverse the effects of global warming, I’d still feel nothing for you.’

It was the briefest look of pain flitting across his face that silenced her. Then his mouth hardened and his eyes blazed. ‘I’m your boss, Caro.’ He spoke very slowly, his voice vibrating deep in his throat. ‘All I’m asking from you is some respect. Your unwillingness to greet me at the meeting today; that wasn’t very mature, was it? How far do you think we’ll get on this project if that’s the way things are going to be between us?’

Caro was stung. ‘If you think I’m going to be anything other than professional, then you really don’t know me at all. I’ve worked for five years to save the African wild dog and I’d never do anything to jeopardise this project.’

‘Oh, I believe you,’ Ben said. ‘Nobody knows better than I do just how ambitious you really are. As a matter of fact, what was I thinking? Of course you’d never let anything get in your way, least of all other people’s feelings.’

Caro gaped.

He leaned towards her. ‘I’m right, aren’t I, Caro?’

Again he stared into her eyes, his own narrowed and filled with fire.

She could see the cords of muscle beneath the golden skin of his neck. Her breath came in small, silent gasps, and she pressed a hand to her chest.

Ben’s gaze travelled slowly from her face to the hand against her naked skin. He opened his mouth, closed it again. His body tilted towards her, his fingers heading for the bunch of towel between her breasts. Then he snatched his hand back, shook his head, turned and started for the door.

 

AUTHOR BIO – LEIGH ARCHER: 

Leigh writes romance novels set in her native South Africa. She has always had a love affair with Africa’s wild open spaces, the intensity of its people and sunsets. Her love of storytelling began as a child when she spent every spare moment playing barefoot in golden grass, watching meerkats, learning to track spoor and dreaming up heroes and heroines dynamic enough to stand out in all the beauty and drama of the African landscape.

Always in search of adventure, Leigh’s journey as a writer has taken her from journalist to communications specialist, and now novelist.

releaseblitzbutton_thealphamatchAUTHOR URLs:

http://leigharcher.yolasite.com/

https://twitter.com/LeighArcherBook

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Leigh-Archer/299910886869499

http://leigharcher.blog.com

http://amazon.com/author/leigharcher

 

Out Now – Native Tongue – M/M Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #military #interracial

Native TongueBlurb:

They may be back on British soil, but the battle isn’t over.

When Captain Hugh Wilkes fell for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things would never be easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England should have spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it seems there are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for their fledgling relationship?

Author’s note: Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you read the first instalment of the characters’ journey first—Desert Heat, which is available from all good retailers.

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25462496-native-tongue

**For those of you that haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing both books available exclusively on Amazon (from 14th May), which is available for lending, and for Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/ **

*****

teaser_nativetongue

Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes drummed enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the M3 towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the radio, too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.

He’d surprised himself by being so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t the most patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been increasing his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But, although he’d have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling along at a mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was moving at all. Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a standstill if there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any progress was better than none.

Besides, what could he do about it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire were a train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just cause a little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to mention criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty, disgruntled commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate amount to do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be subjected to delays.

At least driving took him from door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays, well, he could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the climate control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of his favourite tunes.

The next song was even better, and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the drumming on the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he was truthful with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at a nice pace. It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things were contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.

Rustam Balkhi. His gorgeous Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were working together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and the forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.

The past few weeks had been somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been straightforward, but Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get back onto his medical course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d seemed like an awful waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors, who’d explained to the university what important work Balkhi had been doing. Fortunately, they’d been persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and allowed him to pick up where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack up, travel back to the UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the start of the next academic term.

Wilkes had felt terrible. His return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although he’d been granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend it with Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi had set foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew about the two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for more leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.

Life had conspired against them ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see each other since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d communicated via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for the best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.

Wilkes had struggled terribly in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out in the desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their growing attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and risky, but, having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the physical, they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they were in Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour of duty was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his studies, so they would, at least, be living in the same country.

*****

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 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

 

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

Site created and maintained by Writer Marketing Services | Sitemap
Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial