Shameless Selfie: eBook Stocking Stuffers

 

Tis the Season for a good binge-read! In fact, one of my favourite things to do on those cold winter days is READ! And now with eReaders, I can have multiples whenever I want, and I’m a fan of reading more than one book at once. But even more important I love having another one lined up for the very second I finish with the book at hand. It helps ease that empty nest sort of feeling you have when you’ve just finished a great read and you’re feeling a bit bereft.

Books have always been a major part of my holiday. My sister and I used to give each other our literary “Wish list” when it came time for gift shopping. That way we always knew we’d get exactly what we wanted. After I got married, well, Mr. Grace and I would just frequent the book stores and splurge during the holiday season, not even bothering to disguise our buys as gifts. Hell! Who am I kidding? The holiday season was just one more excuse for another book binge.

These days I give a lot of gift cards because then people can shop from the comfort of their own homes and get the books they want with the click of a key. I’m sure I’m not the only one who will either give the gift that keeps on giving, or decide it’s time to be good to yourself and take advantage of the scrummy holiday book deals. That being the case, I thought I’d let you know just which ones of my books are discounted for the holidays so if you’re as in to holiday reading by the fire as I am, or even if it’s holiday reading by the pool with a Margarita, here’s your chance to stock up on sizzling reads. At .99p or $1.23, you can stuff those eReader-stocking pretty full!

So go ahead, binge! I love instant gratification, don’t you?

Happy Holidays!

 


The Initiation of Ms Holly
: Book One in The Mount trilogy (Click here for: Book Two | Book Three)

Journalist, Rita Holly, never dreamed sex with the mysterious Edward in the dark of a malfunctioning train would lead to a blindfolded, champagne-drenched tango, a spanking by a butch waitress, and an offer of initiation into the exclusive mysteries of The Mount. Desperate to save her threatened job, she agrees, scheming secretly to write an inside exposé on the club that will make her career. But as she delves deeper into the intrigue of The Mount and the lives of its members, she soon discovers that her heart may have other plans.

 

 

 

 

 

The Pet Shop:

In appreciation for a job well done, STELLA JAMES’s boss sends her a Pet for the weekend – a human Pet. The mischievous TINO comes straight from THE PET SHOP complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers that the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addicting.

Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, VINCENT EVANSTON, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

 

 

 

Body Temperature and RisingBook one of the Lakeland Witches trilogy (Click here for: Book Two | Book Three)

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON, and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allows needy ghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

 

 

 

An Executive Decision: Book One of the Executive Decision Trilogy (Click here for Book Two | Book Three ) 

Sex in the contract – it’s the only way super-focused, over-worked CEO, Ellison Thorne, is ever going to get laid. That’s what his retiring business partner and secret match-maker, Beverly Neumann, thinks. She’s convinced no-strings, stress-free sex in certain employee contracts would raise productivity and minimize stress — perfect for a busy executive like Ellis. But she’s joking, right?

Enter her hand-picked replacement, Dee Henning. Young, hungry, gifted, Dee is the queen of no time for sex. When negotiations on a major project break down, and Dee and Ellis end up in each other’s arms, the Executive Sex Clause suddenly becomes more than a joke. In fact hot executive sex just might be the ultimate secret weapon for success. But secrets seldom remain secret, and Dee and Ellis soon learn there’s no such thing as no-strings where the heart is concerned.

 

 

When Mourning Becomes Joy

Happy Blissemas, everyone!

For those of you who don’t know about Blissemas, a quick refresher. The season of Blissemas starts on the 1st December and will finish on the 24th December. Every day of Blissemas a different author will post up gems of delight in the guise of festive stories, excerpts, recipes, hints and tips and this year one lucky winner will receive a Kindle Voyage! Click here to find out how you can join in the Blissemas celebration and increase your chance of winning.

 

 

I love Blissemas! I always find it a time to be thankful for all of the blessings of the year and a chance to look forward with hope to all that will be in the New Year. But sometimes things don’t go as planned, and sometimes the joy of the season is mixed with tears and sadness, mourning and loss. I lost my brother to cancer on December 21st. It’s been fifteen years ago now, and I still remember the Christmas that followed as one of the richest, deepest Christmases, one of the ones in which I had the most to be thankful for of any I’ve ever had.

 

My husband and I were living abroad at the time. We’d gotten used to spending our holidays away from family, as so many people have, and while it was always a good experience for us, it had become very insular. At the news of my brother’s death – not unexpected, we were on the next plane to Colorado, and what could have easily become one of the worst Christmases of my life became a Christmas filled with wonder and love and appreciation for all that’s good in my life.

 

It was bitterly cold and snowing when we landed at Stapleton International Airport outside Denver after flying forever. We were met by old friends I’d not seen in years, who had heard the news of my brother’s death and insisted we spend the night with them before we headed over the treacherous mountain pass. They took us to their home, fed us, gave us a warm place to stay for the night along with a much-needed dose of laughter and good conversation. In the morning after a good breakfast, they insisted that for the trip over the mountains to my brother’s house in Wyoming, and for the duration of our stay in the Rockies, we take their four-wheel drive SUV instead of trusting to a rental. They drove the mountain roads in winter, and they were always prepared.

 

We arrived safely at my brother’s house in very rural Wyoming to find the whole family already gathered and the house full of food brought in by neighbors and friends. That night before the funeral, we put up the tree, something my husband and I hadn’t done in a long time, but something we all did together for my brother’s first grandchild, who was four at the time and just old enough to miss his papa and to delight in the magic of Christmas. It had been a long time since I’d seen the wonder of Christmas through a child’s eyes, and I found myself delighting in Timothy’s delight and remembering how it had been when I was a kid.

 

At the funeral, there were old friends, friends I hadn’t seen since childhood, all with memories to share of times they had spent with my brother and with all of our family. Some of them came back to my brother’s house afterwards and we all laughed and reminisced and remembered not only the best of my brother’s life – but how far we had all come in our own journeys and just how much we all had to be thankful for.

 

Christmas morning dawned just as bitterly cold as the rest of our time there had been, but with a dusting of new snow – the dry kind with more sparkle than substance, shining like diamonds in the cold winter sun. We all shared in Timothy’s excitement as he opened his gifts, as he laughed and squealed. One particular gift, I recall was a bowling ball – possibly a bit much for a four year old, but not for a four year old from a family who had a passion for bowling. “This is from Papa,” my sister-in-law told him.

 

“I miss Papa,” he said, looking down at the ball he held in his lap.

 

In a strange way, I think I felt my brother’s presence more that Christmas than I ever did when I was a child. We were not close then, and we understood little about each other. Before my brother became bedridden, he had successfully hunted elk that year with his friends, which meant he’d left the freezer well stocked for his family. He had also had time to make sure there was plenty of wood laid in for the winter. The house had a fireplace and a wood-burning stove. My brother was old school – fourteen years my senior, and caring for his family meant keeping them warm and well-fed. I know, that’s what every parent sees as their responsibility to their family, but in the open spaces of rural Wyoming, in the dead of winter, those basics were taken much more literally than they are for those of us living in a more urban setting.

 

Two days after Christmas, we set off back over the pass to catch our flight back to England. As we watched the smoke from the chimney and loaded our borrowed SUV, we walked past the woodpile. Probably every house in a community that was no more than a dozen homes spread over probably twice that many miles had a woodpile, but for me, it symbolized my brother’s last act of caring for his family.

 

That Christmas will always be a reminder for me that sometimes the very best of gifts come from the most painful places. Within the mourning, there was celebration, within the sadness there was joy, and surrounding the whole experience, there was love. That, I remember most of all.

 

Wishing you all celebration, joy and love this holiday season.

 *****

 

Here’s an outdoorsy wild wintery excerpt from the third of the Executive Decisions novel, The Exhibition. Enjoy!

 

The Exhibition: Book Three of the Executive Decision Series

Blurb:

Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though
the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?

 

 The Exhibition Excerpt — Call of the Wild:

The sun was just staining the sky pink when they topped the rise that overlooked an outcropping of rocks opposite them on the other side of a narrow canyon. And there on a ledge were the two mountain lions. Harris could feel the tensing of Stacie’s body in the excitement he knew she felt because he felt it too. From the looks of the situation the female had been calling for a mate, and the male, who crouched on the outcropping just above her, had just arrived. Harris breathed deeply and slowly to steady his hands as he aimed the camera. He was so engrossed in the cats that it took him a second to realize Stacie had her own camera, and he couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at just how calm she was, already shooting next to him. But then he reminded himself she’d grown up in the Russian wilderness. Beneath the big city venire, she was made of stern stuff. He leaned close to her. ‘This is my cat all right. See the little notch in her left ear, some old injury.’ His voice was less than a whisper, but she nodded that she understood.

 

And then the action began as the two cats went about the business of getting acquainted, the female stretched long and lean across the rock before the male, not unlike Harris had seen Dee’s two tabbies do when they found a particularly nice place to sunbathe. In the crisp quiet of the morning, they could hear the rumble of the purr emanating from the female’s throat. It was a feline act through and through as the two made little grunts and growls at each other and the male sniffed the female’s readiness. It didn’t take long until the female rolled back onto her belly and positioned herself, flicking her tail to one side and lifting her bottom.

 

Being privy to such an intimate act of nature, such an intensely wild and primordial act made Harris’s pulse thunder against his throat. Simply seeing the two cats together like this was an unparalleled privilege, but to share it with Stacie made him feel as though he had somehow offered it to up her, as though he’d had something to do with the cats’ presence here. It felt right on a level that he had no words for. If he were ever to share such an experience, it should be with her. It couldn’t be with anyone else.

 

At some point he realized Stacie was taking pictures of him as well as the cats. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest through the dark green fleece she wore. He could almost feel her intense concentration and her delight at sharing the experience, at watching the cats as they got on with creating the next generation. He loved that she’d made no nervous twitters, no off-handed remarks about the cats’ mating. Most people would have. Most people would have been uncomfortable with seeing something so raw, so blatantly and unashamedly sexual.

 

The sky had gone from pink to blue and the monochromatic world had brightened to subtle desert shades of tan and mauve and kaki bathing the cats in golden light as they stretched and preened. Then Stacie and Harris watched as they moved on silent feet single file off the ledge and disappeared into the canyon. They stood and watched long after the cats were gone, as though to move, or to speak would somehow destroy the moment. Harris understood. He sat for nearly an hour after photographing the female with her kittens, unable to move, unable to do anything but try to take in what he’d just witnessed.

 

It was Stacie sniffling that brought him back to reality. He turned to find tear streaming unabated down her cheeks. She offered an embarrassed smile and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. ‘Amazing,’ she managed. ‘They were amazing, so beautiful and powerful and …’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

 

‘It was a pleasure,’ Harris managed, resisting the urge to take her into his arms. What she was feeling had nothing to do with him, and he didn’t want to take away from it.

 

‘I’d love to come back and try to find her after the kittens are born,’ she said.

 

It encouraged him that she was thinking in terms of the future, a future without Terrance Jamison. ‘I’m sure Doug’ll let us know when that happens. It’ll be three months, maybe a little more, before they’ll be born.’

 

‘In the dead of winter? That’s a harsh time to bring kittens into the world.’

 

‘Don’t worry. She’s up for it. Doug says she’s successfully raised at least two litters before the one I saw. She knows what she’s doing.’

 

Stacie looked after the cats again, and Harris couldn’t resist. He lifted his camera and took a couple of shots of her. When she flipped him off and then offered her usual teasing smile, he only shrugged and continued. ‘Just returning the favour.’

 

The blush that crawled up her throat made her look even more beautiful if that were possible. ‘Yes but you look outdoorsy and ruggedly handsome. I look all swollen-eyed and under-slept.’

 

He kept shooting. ‘To me you look beautiful. You belong here almost as much as those cats do.’

 

*****

 

Instead of shoving at him as he’d expected her to do, she curled a hard fist in his hair and ravaged his mouth with every bit as much ferocity as he had given her, pulling him still closer, rubbing her body against his, making him instantly and startlingly erect.

 

She snaked a hand down between them and savaged his fly until he feared for what lay beneath, until her fingers wriggled and dug their way into his walking trousers to possess his cock with a tight grip as though it were a weapon, one she were about to use to do serious damage.

 

He fumbled to return the favor, with her ripping at her own fly to make room for him, to guide his fingers down over her mons. Her eyes locked his in a devastating gaze that felt as though she could see right through him. ‘I need you to touch me there.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper. ‘Where I’m wet, where I’m open, where I’m always, always hungry for you.’ Her breath caught; her eyelids fluttered and she sucked her bottom lip as he found her cleft, wet and open as she’d promised. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to be like those cats.’ She guided his hand still further and manipulated it until first two, then three fingers pressed up into her. ‘You can’t tell me that when I present myself to you all hot and ready and begging for it, you don’t want to service my need. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get a little primal with that cock of yours.’ She gave him a hard squeeze and drove her hand up and down his length, thumbing the already abundant pre-cum over and around the tip until he gritted his teeth and held his breath while his hips bucked hard against her efforts.

He scissored her deep with three fingers and raked the silky slickness of her up and over her clitoris, and the sounds from the back of her throat easily resembled the sounds the female cougar made when the male mounted her. They wildly, madly fucked each other’s hands. The wind had risen and even on the clear morning, the chill left no doubt about lingering for more than the quickest of releases. Then she shifted, pressed her back hard against the stone and rested both of her hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest the removal of her fingers from his cock, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her still clothed crotch rubbing tight and insanely hot against his exposed cock as she began to rock and gyrate, and it was all happening way too fast.

 

‘Stacie I –’

 

‘Shut up, Harris,’ she spoke between chattering teeth. ‘I need to come, and so do you. You can fuck me properly when we get back to the SUV. It’s too damn cold to linger.’ With each sentence she ground against him, baring down with the extra leverage the cliff at her back afforded and, almost before the words were out of her mouth, she convulsed. Her spine stiffened and her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Harris could stand no more. He felt the eruption deep in his groin. It might have been embarrassing had the circumstances been different, but as he tried to cover himself, tried to hide the results of Stacie’s hard ride, she shoved his hand away, pushed him back and practically fell into the space between them positioning herself so that she caught his release, all of it in her mouth. What could he say to that? What could he do but hold her there, helplessly grunting the weight of his need into the back of her throat. It was an act as intimate and as primal as the cougars mating on the rocks minutes ago. And sex, any kind of sex, with Stacie Emerson was worlds apart from any other sexual experiences he’d ever had. As she stood and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, the look of hunger in her eyes, the promise of more sex to come in the SUV before the trip home couldn’t help but lighten the mood. As they straightened and tucked and donned their packs, he wondered if that was maybe why she did it. Whatever her reason, it definitely worked for him in ways he was still trying to get his head around.

 

 

Available from:

eBook:

 

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

iBooks UK

iBooks US

Kobobooks.com

Xcite Books

 

Print:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Barnes & Noble

Powell’s

The Book Depository

Waterstones

Xcite Books

 

 

Out Now—A Harmless Little Plan (The Harmless Series Book 3) by Meli Raine (@meliraineauthor)

Release date: December 13, 2016

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Political Thriller

Description:

Turns out there was a second video from that awful night four years ago. Mine wasn’t the only tape.

Too bad mine wasn’t the worst.

Drew can’t protect me no matter how hard he tries, but the roles are flipped now. I have to help him, but I’m not wired that way. Not anymore. That one night changed me more than anyone knows.

More than anyone could predict.

Three men think they’re above the law. They’re right.

But I’m willing to go beneath the law to make sure they never harm anyone else. Their threats don’t scare me.

When you have nothing left to lose because someone took it all away, you create the most dangerous creature imaginable.

Me.

Game over.

* * *

A Harmless Little Plan is the final in this political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine. This series includes:

A Harmless Little Game

A Harmless Little Ruse

Buy links

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fwWLxE
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2fyBsKD
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2fUQWN8
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2faFJag
B& N: http://bit.ly/2faAWW7
iBooks: http://apple.co/2fauvTb
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2fyAnCq
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2fyAIoV

Author Bio:

Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.

Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://meliraine.com/

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/beV0gf

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/meliraine

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/meliraineauthor

Excerpt

They have to feed me.

Right?

Unless they plan to kill me in the next couple of hours.

If they’re not feeding me, is that a sign? Or are they just assholes who don’t care about feeding me? My stomach gurgles. Then it makes an epic sound, like wet boulders being dragged through mud with air pockets.

Muffled voices provide a strange background sound. None of their words is distinct, but the accumulation of them stacks up to create a ribbon of sound. Whatever they’re planning for me, they’re not tipping their hands.

I’m left without a voice, without a way to get out, and without Drew.

Time keeps changing. I’m on the bed again, but sitting up against the headboard, my hands in front of me in a zip tie. It’s better than having them behind me. Hurts less.

That’s how I measure time now. Through pain. Less pain = easier to pass time.

Time slows when the pain increases.

I can’t think forward, either. If I anticipate time, think about the future, the pain increases, too.

Mental pain.

Mental pain that will soon convert to physical pain.

What are they going to do to me?

As I move, my hair tickles my neck. Because I’m living with my skin on fire, every nerve quick and ready to react, even a gentle touch like strands of hair against my skin feels horrible. My mind keeps playing through memories of the video I’ve seen of what they did to me.

My gut tightens. I’m close to throwing up.

If they’re going to torture me and kill me, I wish they’d just do it.

But then again, if I draw this out long enough, Drew may have enough time to find me and save me.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

The Sexy Librarian has Something Especially For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them)

 

 

It’s absolutely my pleasure to have the wonderful Emmanuelle de Maupassant back on A Hopeful Romantic today, and this time she’s talking about a fantastic new anthology called  For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them) edited by the fabulous Rose Caraway  What a holiday treat this anthology is, and Emmanuelle is here to give you the details.

 

erotic-fiction-for-the-men-rose-caraway

 

I’m so excited to appear in a wonderful new anthology, written For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them), edited (and narrated) by Rose Caraway.

 

We take for granted that erotic fiction is the realm of women, as writers and readers, but there’s no reason why men shouldn’t enjoy creating and consuming sex on the page (or via audio). In fact, it’s in our interest to encourage them to do so!

 

Rose emphasizes, “We want men included in this creative, erotic space because they’ve been too long told that they shouldn’t. We want/need men writing and reading, thinking about and expressing their erotic selves. It’s how we, as couples and individuals can better understand and support one another. Erotica is for men and women both.”

 

‘For the Men’ features tales written by men, alongside women. They are intentionally diverse in style and theme, as well as in content, reflecting a range of sexual tastes. The collection brings us perspectives male and female, and explores universal preoccupations: those relevant to us all.

 

A prominent theme through the anthology is that of exhibiting our sexual selves, of revealing what is usually concealed, for the delectation of other eyes. There are tales not only of being watched, but of watching, illicitly, or through invitation. Of course, we might say that the very act of reading is voyeuristic (magnified many-fold when we’re reading erotic fiction).

 

adrea-kore-for-the-men-quote-erotic-fiction

 

 

Adrea Kore, in Dance for Me, explores seduction through performance, showing a woman’s elation and liberation through ownership of her sexuality. Her character reveals herself through dance, and is ‘fully seen’. In this way, she demonstrates both vulnerability and power. Adrea tells us, “I love dancing, and have often noticed how much men love being ‘danced to’. The first half of Dance for Me is only a slight fictionalization of a night out I shall always remember. Gorgeously corseted for my date, it was a spontaneous flow of events – but I got to be ‘the girl in the cage’ that night. The spontaneity of it all meant there was very little time for me to be nervous!” Adrea stresses the transformational potential of our sexual fantasies. She tells us, “If readers feel inspired by this story to own and explore their fantasies, I’ll feel my work as ‘sexual provocateur’ is done.”

 

Interestingly, the collection features two ‘handyman stories’: one written by Jade A. Waters and the other by Spencer Dryden, giving a male and female perspective. Jade’ recalls her crush on the stranger who came to work on her satellite dish, admitting that she considered trying to get him back for ‘more repairs’. Her tale is sassy and humorous. “It came together like a lust letter in my head!” she admits, adding, “While I think ‘no strings attached sex’ often appeals to men, I don’t think that’s lost on women, either.’

 

rachel-de-vine-erotic-fiction

 

Rachel de Vine’s Hitchhiker gives us a female protagonist with an uninhibited attitude to sex. She recalls her own youthful days of hitch-hiking around Europe, feeling that ‘anything was possible’. Rachel underlines her intention of presenting hiker Jezebel ‘without her being judged and found morally lacking’. She tells us, “I wanted my female character to be bold and fearless, and honest about her intentions and needs.”

 

for-the-men-erotic-fiction-tj-christian-quote-enhanced

 

When we enter the realm of fantasy, there are no limits, so it’s no surprise that two of the tales in ‘For the Men’ have sci-fi settings. One is T.J. Christian’s Enhanced, which evokes the stylishly sexy 1982 film Bladerunner. It probes the pitfalls of technology, in a society where upgrades to our limitations are the norm. In such a world, the author speculates, wouldn’t we lose sight of what’s real, and what it means to be human, where ‘the lines between human and artificial become blurred’?

 

Sonni de Soto’s Odd Man explores the psychology of jealousy, and the vulnerability of our relationships, drawing on her own experience of polyamory. Sonni speculates on the pressures men face, in a world where many traditions are being dismantled.

 

Meanwhile, Charlie Powell’s tale explores lost love and our desire to be unfaithful, set during a hen celebration, with the temptation of an old flame. Marc Angel also delves the theme of infidelity, when his protagonist discovers his wife unexpectedly in the arms of another. He examines the anger and pain of betrayal, as well as feelings of arousal and shame.

 

emmanuelle-de-maupassant-for-the-men-anthology

 

Labyrinth, my own story, tackles our compulsion to hurt those we love (whether physically or emotionally). We are shaped by all that has gone before, and the promise of what is yet to come, wandering our personal maze, ever seeking, though for what, we may be unsure. Within, are our unspoken desires, and our fears, our ‘monsters’, which must be slayed.

 

Erotic fiction offers an amazing space in which to taste the unexpected, and the uninhibited. In ‘For the Men’, twenty-five authors have pooled their talent to bring you tales of temptation and seduction.

 

Sample them alone, or with your lover…for-the-men_official-cover-copy

 

An audio version is also available to complement the e-book (narrated by huskily voiced Rose Caraway).

 

The collection features works by Emmanuelle de Maupassant, Adrea Kore, Tamsin FlowersRachel Kramer BusselAllen Dusk, Terrance Aldon Shaw, Rachel de Vine, Jade A WatersDorothy FreedD.L. KingChase Morgan, Marc AngelCharlie Powell, Landon Dixon, Sonni de Soto, D. Lovejoy, Erin Pim, J.T. Seate, Spencer Dryden, Winter Blair, Simon Drax, Lynn Lake, Josie Jordan, Daily Hollow, and T.J. Christian.

 

 

Read more from Emmanuelle on her site:

www.emmanuelledemaupassant.com

 

 

 

Sunday Blissemas Snog: A Valentine for Christmas

blissemas-snog-in-the-snow-bk-snogsinthesnow

 

I love a good kiss, don’t you? Well pucker up! It’s time for the Blissemas Snogs in the Snow! I’m posting a snog from A Valentine for Christmas — my novella from the fabulous Love Under the Mistletoe Anthology.

AND! While I’m not giving a Valentine for Christmas, I AM giving away a copy of winner’s choice from my back list, excluding box sets, of course. Just comment for a chance to win. And be sure to stop by the Blissemas page to see what other fabulous posts are up and maximise your chance to win a fully-loaded Kindle Voyage.

 

A Valentine for Christmas Blurb:

All work and no play, bah humbugging CEO, Gerard Jasper’s, anonymous Christmas gift is actually a Valentine — Moira ‘R.M.’ Valentine, the mysterious CEO of the Valentine Corporation. Moira’s walk on the wild side has accidentally landed her naked and bound with red ribbon under Gerard’s tree – not good when their companies are negotiating the deal of a lifetime. When two lonely people with enough baggage to fill a 747 come together for Christmas, the fireworks rivals New Years at Times Square, but can they overcome their pasts to give each other the true gift — a merger of hearts?

 

 

cariad-christmas-2014-collectionGet some Rest or Santa Won’t Come –Excerpt:

 

He made no apologies as he came in her mouth, even as she struggled to take him all in. He made no apologies for the tightening of his fist in her hair, for the fact that he had come so quickly and so hard, causing her to gag and swallow furiously several times before he collapsed back on the sofa, before she relaxed her mouth, released his well-worked cock, and rested her head in his lap, gasping for breath. For a time that could have been seconds, could have been hours, he leaned back against the sofa with his eyes closed, drifting. At some point the white-knuckled grip he’d had in her hair relaxed and opened and he began to stroke the cascading locks that were softer than silk, a repetitive motion that calmed him, took him away from himself as nothing had in a very long time. When he came back to the present, he could feel her warm, even breathing against his bare groin and, even though it couldn’t have been long, his cock was already responding to the thought of what this woman had just done to him, what she had allowed him to do to her, all against his better judgment. Okay, no matter what she said, she was still a prostitute – had to be. But she was a gift, a feisty, cheeky, sexy gift, who seemed to intuit exactly what he needed, and at least for now, she was all his. How pathetic was he that he grasped at such a gift, allowing himself refuge in something so contrived, something that was escapism and nothing else? Still, the long holiday weekend looming before him suddenly didn’t seem quite so endless.

When he leaned forward and kissed her head, she moaned softly and looked up at him. He managed to partially do up his fly against a package that was already reasserting its dominion, then he stood and lifted her once again. Since she couldn’t slip her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder, and he could feel her muscles tensing against him as he mounted the stairs, her weight strangely balancing his own. In his room, he lowered her onto the mattress of the big four-poster bed, then he untied her feet, carefully massaging the circulation back into her ankles and calves before he moved to do the same to her hands. All the while she moaned her pleasure and relief, eyelids fluttering, lips parted and swollen, a tantalizing reminder of what she could do with that delicious mouth. ‘That’s better,’ she sighed. ‘Oh God, that’s so much better. What the …?’ Her eyes burst open and she squirmed as he bound the ribbon back around her wrists and tied them above her head to the bed frame.

‘I like you bound,’ he said, pausing to drop a kiss on each of her heavy nipples when he finished. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the little moan that escaped her throat was not total disagreement. With the other ribbon, he tied one ankle to one post at the foot of the bed, then yanked off his loosened tie and secured the other to the opposite post so that this time her legs were wide open and she was helplessly exposed and yielded for his explorations. Surveying his efforts, he then took a fluffy white pillow and eased it beneath her bottom, forcing her hips forward so that she opened like ripe fruit in a display case, succulent and swollen, offered up just for him.

For a moment, he knelt between her legs, not touching, just looking and admiring the pouting, feminine landscape glistening with her arousal. When she wriggled slightly and whimpered, he looked up into

her bright eyes shaded with thick lashes, dilated pupils holding his gaze with anxious curiosity. ‘Most Christmas gifts come with operating directions. Since you didn’t, well,’ he slid a hand up the inside of her thigh until his thumb slightly grazed the pebbled hardness just below her pubic curls and she sucked a tight breath and bucked against his touch, ‘I’ll just have to experiment, won’t I?’ With that, he slipped two fingers between her soft folds and her whole body quivered as he opened her, his eyes locked on her slick mother of pearl pout, heavy and swollen.

‘Do you remember when you were a child and you got gifts for Christmas or your birthday, and you just had to figure out how they worked, what made them do the amazing things they did?’ He ran the edge of his thumb over her hardness and she shivered and clenched at his fingers.

‘I remember, yes!’ she gasped, and ground her bottom against the pillow.

‘I’ve always wanted to know what it looks like when a woman comes. I mean what it looks like up close and personal blissemas2016-buttondown where everything’s swollen and slick and ready to burst.’ He withdrew his fingers, now slippery with her lust, and eased them upward around her folds, splaying, tweaking, stroking. ‘I’m guessing sucking my cock like you did turned you on some because you’re clearly aroused.’ He lifted his wet fingers into her field of vision to demonstrate, and then still watching those china blue eyes, he flicked his tongue out, licking the taste of her, feeling his cock surge in response, hearing her soft, kitten-like mew. ‘Do you know,’ he said, fingering her open again, ‘you’re the colour of ripe cherries when you’re aroused?’ He slid two fingers back up inside her and she bit her lip and shivered. ‘And you feel, my God, you feel like wet, warm silk tightening around me each time I stroke you.’ He demonstrated by

pushing into her knuckle deep and scissoring his fingers. She arched her back and lifted her hips to match his movement. ‘I’m torturing myself imagining what that tight, wet grip will feel like when I fuck you. And from the feel of you,’ he raked her clitoris and she whimpered, ‘I’d say the torture is mutual. In fact, I’d imagine you really do need to come after taking me in your mouth like you did.’

Without warning, he leaned in and ran his tongue up from where his fingers splayed her all the way to her clit, her tidal pool scent rich and intoxicating. With a deep inhale of her need, he clamped down on her clitoris, licked it, drew his lips tight around it and then bit, pulling back just as she yelped and bucked and all but hyperventilated when she came. ‘Ah, exquisite,’ he breathed. ‘Your orgasm is like tiny little earthquakes making that whole ripe fruit girly landscape of yours tremble and clench, so tight, oh so tight. Have you ever watched yourself come?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Her words were clipped, distracted as she rode the last of her orgasm, bucking against the thrust and press of his fingers, first two and then three.

lipssugar-lips-kisses-hd-desktop-wallpaper-widescreen-backgrounds-for-mobile-tablet-and-pc-free-images-download‘A pity,’ he said. ‘You really should. I can’t tell you how sexy you are when you come, especially when you’re desperate for a good release, after you’ve felt the extent of my lust.’

Still stroking he arched above her, stretching to reach for the drawer of the nightstand where he kept the condoms he very rarely needed. ‘In all honesty,’ he withdrew his hand and she groaned her frustration watching with anxious eyes as he undid his trousers and released his cock into the condom, ‘I doubt that you can even imagine the extent of my lust.’ With that, he shoved into her hard, and she growled out loud like a wild animal in the hunt, her grip on his cock nearly sending him over before he was ready.

As he shifted his hips to deepen his position, he ran his hands up over her breasts then settled his weight on his elbows, and she spoke with a hiss of breath. ‘Oh, I think I can imagine the extent of your lust just fine.’ With that her grip tightened again, and he began to thrust.

It was the frustration of needing to feel more of her against him that caused him to withdraw long enough to untie her

legs before he sank back into her tight slick depths. With a groan that felt like it came from the very core of her, she wrapped herself around him and gripped him even tighter. Her breath was fast and furious, the purr of pleasure became a growl of desperation as she matched him thrust for thrust, tight and swollen and slippery.

He took her mouth, tasting the residue of his own lust still lingering there on her tongue, and that drove him until the weight of his need was practically unbearable. ‘You’re my gift,’ he spoke between lavings of his tongue as it danced with hers. ‘So come for me. Come for me now. I want to feel you when you come.’

More than likely it wasn’t so much his command as it was her own overwhelming need, but the cry that erupted from her throat as she clenched and convulsed was raw and guttural and he matched it, unable to hold out any longer in the grip of her release, stunned that he could come again so hard so soon.

As he fumbled to untie her arms to wind them around his neck, she giggled softly in his ear. ‘I guess you’re convinced mistletoethen that I’m not hiding a gun.’

He shoved the duvet back and pulled her under it with him. ‘What’s your name?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘My gift surely has to have a name.’

For a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer him, then she sighed softly and wriggled down close to him. ‘Moira. My name’s Moira.’

‘Moira,’ he whispered, kissing the pulse in her neck. ‘Get some rest, Moira, or Santa won’t come.’

She offered a throaty giggle. ‘I think he already did. Twice.’

 

 

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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