Out Now—Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4) by Christie Adams

Passion's Last PromiseBlurb:

Hers to protect…his to serve…

When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.

Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.

A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…

 

Buy links:

Amazon: http://getbook.at/PLP

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-passion039slastpromise-1940493-147.html

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/passions-last-promise/id1131728778?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/passion-s-last-promise

*****

Excerpt:

“Problems, Miss Edwards?”

“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.

“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”

He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.

“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”

She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.

As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood that was oozing from a cut to her hand. Broken glass littered the worktop and the floor.

Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”

“It’s all right, I can manage.”

“No—you can’t. What happened?”

To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”

Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”

She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.

“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”

He quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”

“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.

For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.

She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.

Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.

Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.

Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Dr. Northwood.”

He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”

Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…

*****

Author Bio:

After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.

When she was asked about how she got into writing, Christie realised she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.

From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the erotic short story competition in a magazine.

Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterisation.

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Siobhan Muir’s new release, Rope a Falling Star, is inspired by the Real Thing

ropeafallingstar600I’m very excited to have Siobhan Muir on a Hopeful Romantic today. I met Siobhan in Las Vegas in 2011. Since then she’s moved to one of my favourite parts of the world, Cheyenne Wyoming — true cowboy country, and who could not be inspired by the real thing. Welcome Siobhan! 

 

Thank you so much for having me here today, K.D. I had the great good fortune to meet K.D. in Las Vegas at the Erotic Authors Association event in September 2011. At the time, I was a newbie in this business of writing, but everyone I met was encouraging and friendly, and I made connections I didn’t even know about until much later. K.D. is one such connection.

 

My new release is ROPE A FALLING STAR, book 1 in the Triple Star Ranch series, and is all about Cheyenne Cowboys. I moved to Cheyenne in 2014 and experienced Cheyenne Frontier Days for the first time. It was awesome. The horses and wagons for the parades walked right past my front porch. I sat and drank coffee as the best parts of the parade ambled past.

One of the things Cheyenne does for its emergency preparedness is make pancakes. Three times during the 10 day run of Cheyenne Frontier Days, it feeds pancakes and ham to anyone who wants it in an effort to see if they can feed the city should the infrastructure fall. The funny thing is, Cheyenne has a population of 65,000 during the year, and it swells to 170,000 during Cheyenne Frontier Days. And they feed them all. I think Cheyenne’s in good shape.

Last year I was sitting on the grass of the Cheyenne Depot Plaza eating my pancakes when a cowboy (and there are a lot of them around at that time) limped past me. He probably was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, but he walked like a man three times his age. I suspect he was a rodeo cowboy, bucked off and beaten by the animals he chose to try to ride, and I suddenly had a storyline and characters just from him walking by.

Here’s the blurb:

Only the best stars fall…

Three time bronc-riding champion Tom Colton’s dream of a fourth title ends when he draws Wooden Nickel, a mean little bronc with more twists than a maze. With his heart no longer in rodeo, he figures it’s time to go home to the Triple Star Ranch, the PTSD therapy ranch he and his dad founded to help others with trauma in their pasts. Tom just wants a little time to nurse his hurts and consider his next move.

Amber Hillcrest started out as a Triple Star client and stayed on as a massage therapist. Her dog Nimbus keeps her PTSD in check, but her heart remains bruised. She knows she’s too old and too broken for love, especially with the son of her boss, but he’s hot enough to fill her fantasies for years to come.

Amber tries to keep it professional between them, but Tom proves too irresistible with his big heart and charm. But someone is sabotaging the Triple Star and the neighboring Fantasy Ranch, and an ex-girlfriend keeps coming around, trying to reconnect with Tom. Tom’s hands are full of problems instead of the luscious massage therapist. But when Amber gets kidnapped, Tom will move heaven and earth to get her back and tell her how he truly feels.

In the course of writing this story, the second story in the series became clear, too. Tom’s father Trip Colton has been single ever since his wife, Tom’s mom, died of cancer when Tom was only three. Trip figured he’s had the love of his life because no other woman has ever captured his attention.

Enter Henry Bright, a country rockstar sensation who walked away from his career and his music deals because he didn’t like the sycophantic politics of it, the money rather than the music being the motivation. Henry is unapologetically gay and returns to Wyoming to get a job as a ranch hand and veterinary assistant on a PTSD ranch next door to his friends the Knights, who own the Fantasy Dude Ranch. And he meets Trip, who’s damn near 35 years older.

But Trip’s not gay, at least not that he’s considered. But when he meets Henry, his heart stirs just like it did with his wife. Best he can tell he might be bisexual because he wants Henry. The problem is, Henry has a hang-up about bisexuals—like many gay and heterosexual people, he believes bisexuals are more likely to cheat because they’re attracted to everyone. This is a limited view, and not correct at all, but the stigma and belief remains in many communities.

But Trip isn’t attracted to anyone except Henry and he must prove that Henry holds his heart no matter his gender. See? All that from one limping cowboy. 🙂

Thanks again for having me here today and here’s an excerpt of ROPE A FALLING STAR.

 

 

Excerpt of Rope a Falling Star

“Tom Colton wants a massage, Nimbus.”

The dog cocked her head at Amber and opened her mouth in a doggy grin. Amber met the grin with a shiver of excitement and amazement. Tom Colton had been her crush ever since she arrived at the ranch as an employee, but she’d kept herself away from him. He was the boss’s son, actually a boss himself, and she didn’t want to do anything unethical.

Some of the panic from her proximity to the fire retreated as she drove her Jeep away from the Fantasy Ranch. She’d often fantasized about getting her hands on Tom, but those fantasies hadn’t involved massages. Many of them had included heavy petting and hot, sweaty sex. She’d never admit it aloud, but she’d wanted to see Tom naked from the moment she’d seen him saunter through the lodge of the Triple Star. Of course, she’d been a guest then receiving her own therapy. But that didn’t stop the daydreams.

“Oh, God, Tom Colton wants a massage.”

She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Sweet mercy, she’d be touching his sexy body and have to keep it professional.

You could always turn him down.

She moaned. No way in hell would she turn him down. That’d be like looking a gift horse in the mouth. She might lust after him, but she could be professional. I hope. She’d just have to pretend he was any other client seeking physical relief.

An image of his hard cock standing up away from his body and his head thrown back as he released his cum filled her mind.

Oh god, that’s not what I meant.

She pulled into the driveway of the Triple Star and white-knuckled it all the way to the lodge. She had to give him a Cheyenne Cowboys logo 1massage—wanted to, really—but she needed to find her composure first. It wouldn’t be right to drool on her boss’s son while rubbing his shoulders.

Of course, I could drool over his cock instead.

She hadn’t had sex in way too long. She’d need to get out her vibrator and take care of that when she was alone. Maybe she should put the massage off until tomorrow, but it wasn’t late and the next day she was booked from morning till dinner.

I’ll have to do him tonight. Oh, jeez, why did every thought have a sexual innuendo attached to it? She definitely needed some happy time with her electric cock. She threw the Jeep into park and watched Tom’s truck pull up beside her. She needed a little bit of time to prepare her workspace for him, and that would give her time to get her libido under control.

“I can be a professional with Mr. Tom Colton, right, Nimbus?”

Her dog tilted her head in confusion and yipped.

That’s not an encouraging response.

Sighing, Amber opened the door to her truck and held the door long enough for Nimbus to jump out. The mutt sat down at her feet and waited for instructions as Amber took a deep breath. Tom strode around the back end of his truck, looking sexy as hell despite the distinct hitch in his giddy-up. He’s sore, jacked up, and twisted. Oh lord, there were those innuendos again. But she read the pain and tension just in his saunter, and the massage caregiver took over.

“So, how does the schedule look?” Tom pushed his hat back on his head and gave her a tired smile.

“It looks good tonight if you have time. Give me an hour to set up the table and my stones, and I’ll be ready for you.” She returned his smile, trying to ignore her inner trollop batting her eyes and licking her lips. “Would that work for you?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’d be just fine. Should I shower first?”

The fantasy of hot water sluicing off his body and finding every slick bump and valley on his torso filled her mind. She had to swallow hard before she could find her voice and professionalism.

“Y-yes, that would be a good idea.” She nodded and straightened her shirt to hide her blush. Wouldn’t it get dark soon? She really needed the anonymity to hide her traitorous emotions.

“All right. I’ll meet you back here in the lodge in about an hour.” He gave her a smile that made her heart flutter and her pussy spasm.

 


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Buy Rope a Falling Star Here: 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Rope-Falling-Star-Triple-Ranch-ebook/dp/B01I07LRBU

Amazon short: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I07LRBU

All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ropeafallingstar-2065376-149.html

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1124071270

Kobo Books: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/rope-a-falling-star

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/648412

 

 

Tir Dye SiobhanAbout Siobhan:

Siobhan Muir lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he’s never shifted when she can see him. When not writing, she can be found looking down a microscope at fossil fox teeth, pursuing her other love, paleontology. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, her husband gave her a paranormal romance for Christmas one year, and she was hooked for good.

In previous lives, Siobhan has been an actor at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, a field geologist in the Aleutian Islands, and restored inter-planetary imagery at the USGS. She’s hiked to the top of Mount St. Helens and to the bottom of Meteor Crater.

Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.

 

Find Siobhan Here:

Website: http://siobhanmuir.com

Blog: http://siobhanmuir.com/siobhans-blog

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/u/0/103103994291883974643/posts

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Official.Siobhan.Muir

Twitter: http://twitter.com/SiobhanMuir

Tsu.co: http://www.tsu.co/SiobhanMuir

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5760938.Siobhan_Muir

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/siobhanmuir35

All Romance: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Siobhan+Muir

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Siobhan-Muir/e/B007CRB2F6/

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/siobhan-muir

 

 

Sex, Chaos, and Story

(From the archives)

I’m in the air over the Atlantic somewhere as this post goes lives. That being the case, I’m doing seasonal re-runs with a the screampost from the archives on one of my favourite topics — sex and chaos and their effect on story. Enjoy.

In my opinion, there are few things a writer can do to a story that will kick-start it quite as much as creating a little chaos. A calm and happy life in the real world might be just the ticket, but in story, there’s one word for it – BORING! A story is all about upsetting the apple cart, breaking the eggs, turning the bull loose in the china cupboard and — heart racing, palms sweating – seeing what happens, while we’re safely ensconced on the other side of the keyboard/Kindle/book. Oh yes we do love that adrenaline rush — at someone else’s expense!

One of the best tools for dropping the character smack-dab into the middle of the chaos – and the reader vicariously – is sex. And the more inconvenient, the more inappropriate, the more confusing, the more SO not what the character was expecting, the more delicious the chaos will be.

The thing about those big brains that I spoke of a few posts back is that they like to make us think we can control all the variables. The thing about the biological housing for those big brains is that it doesn’t always want to be controlled. Oh and that big brain, well that means there’s all sorts of stuff going on up there that can lead us down the havoc-wreaking road to sex and chaos. It wants what it wants. And the ole grey matter can be so damned stubborn at times. Oooh! I get goose bumps just thinking about what happens when the big brain gets a hankering and the biological soup starts overheating and sex happens.

If we look at Western history from the point of view of religion and its effects on culture, there are few things the religious powers that be have made more of an effort to control than sex. And in story, in myth, there are few things that have caused more chaos than a little rough and tumble in the wrong place at the wrong time. Troy lost war and was destroyed over it, King Author’s realm fell because of it, David had Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, killed because of it.

The resulting chaos that sex unleashes in a story can be nothing more than to create self-doubt in a cock-sure character, which is always a delight to see. Or the resulting chaos can be world-destroying, and anything in between. Sex can cause the kind of chaos that will make the reader laugh, or the kind of chaos that will make the reader say, ‘if only they hadn’t done that.’ However, the one thing sex should never do in a story is leave things the way they were before it happened. Can it be used for bonding? Of course! But the tighter the bond, the more chaos can be caused if that bond is tested or broken. I shiver with delight at the thought.

And because our big brains don’t give a damn if our sexual thoughts and fantasies are ‘socially acceptable,’ nor is it discriminating about who we might have those thoughts and fantasies about, the resulting internal chaos can be almost as delicious as the external – maybe even more so. That lovely mix of guilt and desire and self-loathing and arousal and denial and shear over-heated lust. OMG! It’s a total writer’s paradise there for the taking.

I’m sure I’m like most writers in that I analyse what I read for pleasure in terms of what worked and what didn’t, what I
would have done if I’d written it, and what I’ve learned from the author’s writing skills that can be used to make my own writing better. I have to say one of the biggies for me is how well the author uses chaos to move the story forward
at a good pace; and especially how effectively sex is used to create chaos. I’m sure I pay a lot more attention to how sex is used in a story (or not) now that I write erotica, but it’s the resulting chaos that fascinates me and keeps me reading Botticelli_Mars_and_Venusin almost any kind of novel. The world is not a static place, and especially the world of story should not be static. Happy endings are called happy endings because they are at the end. They follow the chaos and happen when the story is finished. There is no more story, or at least none the reader wants to follow. It’s the chaos that pulls us in and keeps us turning the pages, and when that chaos is directly tied to sex, hold on to your hat!

 

Out Now! Illicit Relations – M/M Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Illicit Relations, a M/M erotic romance by Lucy Felthouse, with coming out and almost-taboo themes, has been re-released with a stunning new cover and a lower price! Please note, however, if you’ve read it before, that the content hasn’t changed.

*****

Illicit RelationsBlurb:

Terry’s had a crush on his second cousin Justin for what seems like forever. He’s hidden it as well as possible, knowing that the other man is out of bounds, forbidden fruit. Second cousins getting together isn’t actually illegal, but for Justin the relationship is too close—he just can’t contemplate them being together.

But when some new information comes to light about Terry’s birth and his place in the family, the whole game changes. Suddenly the relationship isn’t so impossible, and things soon begin to get hot and heavy.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/illicitrelations

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/29L2JMc

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/29At2jv

iBooks UK: http://apple.co/29Ear9K

iBooks US: http://apple.co/29L3dBX

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/29BbODJ

 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18741652-illicit-relations

*****

Excerpt:

Terry deliberately averted his gaze as Justin tugged off his T-shirt and dove into the pool. The last thing he needed was to see him topless. His libido was already in overdrive and he was having trouble not jumping Justin’s bones. In fact, the only thing that held him back was the fact that Justin was his second cousin. They hadn’t been brought up particularly closely, so it wasn’t as if he were lusting after someone he considered to be a brother, but still. They were related and it was weird. Or it would be weird if anything happened between them, which it wouldn’t, of course. It would be wrong and they both knew it.

Terry assumed that was the reason Justin was avoiding him, anyway. They got on well and there was an obvious spark between them, but nothing inappropriate had ever taken place. For the most part, they acted as cousins should. Every now and again, though, he’d catch Justin looking at him. Equally, Terry would drink his fill of his cousin when no one else was looking. Apparently it was getting increasingly difficult for Justin, too.

Right now, at the annual summer get together at Terry’s grandparents’ massive house in rural Warwickshire, the tension between them had never been higher.

What made the whole thing ten times worse was that neither of them had come out. So ending up together would be a double whammy for their families. He could see it now. Hey, everyone! I’m gay—and so is he. We’re together. Now as you were.

He didn’t know whether the reaction would be favorable or not.

He also knew that part of his frustration about the situation was because he hadn’t yet seen any point in coming out. His feelings for Justin ran deeper than he cared to admit, and for that reason he hadn’t been in a relationship with anyone—ever. Not a homosexual relationship, anyway. He’d had girlfriends back in the days when he hadn’t realized what his urges meant, but since then he’d been by himself and remained a virgin. He was surprised, actually, that no one in his family had asked whether he was gay. He could only assume that because he was so private generally, they thought he would only introduce them to someone when he felt it was absolutely right. That was his plan, in fact. To come out and introduce his partner at the same time. But until he got over this damn infatuation with Justin, he was never going to be any farther forward.

His thoughts ran on for several minutes until he was interrupted—and startled—by droplets of cold water falling onto his bare shoulder. He turned. Justin stood there, shaking his blond head and sending the droplets flying around. Apparently he wasn’t avoiding Terry anymore.

It was hot and he was wearing casual clothes, so Terry wasn’t bothered about getting wet, but for some reason, he snapped at Justin. “For fuck’s sake, do you have to do that here?”

Immediately Justin stopped and stared at him. They’d never had a cross word between them, not even when they were children. “Sorry, mate. I was just messing around. I didn’t think it would piss you off.”

His blue eyes were wide and Terry felt his irritation dissipating rapidly. He continued to rake his gaze down Justin’s half-naked form. His broad shoulders and wide chest, which was sprinkled with a handful of pale hairs. His toned stomach, the six-pack nicely defined but not too body-builderish. His arms were thickly muscled but suited his athletic frame. Deep-blue swimming trunks hid the area he most wanted to see but he relied on the glimpses he’d had over the years and his overripe imagination.

Thick thighs and calves and, unbelievably, nice feet—he didn’t generally like feet—finished off the package of perfection and Terry was suddenly extremely glad he had a book in his lap, because his cock was beginning to swell and press against the inside of his swimming shorts. He realized that a dip in the pool would be a pretty good antidote—the chilly water should take the heat from his cock. And if not, at least no one would be able to see the bulge unless they swam underwater.

It was stupid, really, trying to hide his erection from Justin. They both knew there was something between them, and he wanted to bury his hard cock inside Justin’s mouth or arse, not hide it beneath a fucking book.

He began to wonder whether they should just get together, and to hell with the consequences. It wasn’t illegal.

Justin sat down on the sun bed next to Terry and flashed him a smile. “Am I forgiven, then? I haven’t got your book wet, have I?” He reached out to grab the book, presumably to try to dry it, but Terry slammed his hand down quickly, catching Justin’s fingers beneath his in the process, not to mention giving his cock a bit of a smack.

“No,” he ground out, wondering how he’d managed to get even a single word to fall from his lips. As soon as their fingers had touched he’d felt a spark that had run straight up his arm and multiplied throughout his entire body. His ebbing erection had immediately jumped back to attention, lifting the book slightly. He hoped against all hope that Justin hadn’t noticed but he had no such luck.

The blond’s gaze dropped to their still-touching fingers and, presumably, to the book and the thing beneath it that had caused the movement. He stared for a few seconds that felt like hours, then looked back up at Terry’s face. He opened his mouth then closed it again. For the first time ever, it seemed Justin was speechless.

A huge splash and a series of laughs from the pool broke the spell between them. Justin snatched his hand back and raked it through his hair. He opened and closed his mouth again, but for the second time nothing came out. He let out a heavy sigh and stood up looking dazed. He appeared to have trouble putting one foot in front of the other, as though he were drunk or had just woken from a very deep sleep. Of course, only the two of them knew the real reason for Justin’s behavior.

Finally Justin got his limbs to cooperate, and he made his way across to the table that held food and drinks, sheltered from the bright sunlight by a large, green gazebo.

Terry watched him go, a tumult of emotions running through his brain. Disappointment, confusion, anger, lust…they all assaulted him, though admittedly the last was screaming the loudest, a fact certainly not helped by Justin’s damp and topless state.

Now a feeling of despair took hold of him. What the fuck was he going to do?

*****

About Lucy Felthouse

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

OUT NOW! The House of Fox – An adult paranormal comedy by SJ Smith @sjsmithauthor @SinfulPress #paranormal #comedy #smut

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SJ Smith gives us another glimpse into his warped mind with his latest novel. The House of Fox is a crazy paranormal sex-fest that some will love, others will hate, but everyone will remember.

2016-291 eBook The House of Fox 6x9Blurb:

The House of Fox is a paranormal comedy that contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature.

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality. But all is not as it seems. The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully, and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .

Buy links for The House of Fox:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/House-Fox-SJ-Smith-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/House-Fox-Sinful-Comedies-Book-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-of-fox-sj-smith/1123824728?ean=9781910908044

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-house-of-fox/id1126014781?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-house-of-fox

*****

HOF quote 3

Excerpt:

“Um, hello? I’m looking for someone called Pandora?”

“That’d be me,” replied a rasping voice.

“Oh, right. Hi!” He waved, and smiled his most charming smile. “My name is Dylan. Giovanni sent me down here to – um – escape?”

The woman came hobbling into the half-light. She was old – impossibly old – with wrinkles on her wrinkles and snow white hair hanging all the way to the floor. Her eyes, which were radiantly green and untouched by the years that had withered the rest of her body, twinkled with mirth at the expression he must have pulled on seeing her.

“What’s the matter, son? You forget what a real woman looks like?” She leaned her weight on a gnarled walking stick. “I’m ‘fraid to say, the magic that keeps all them girlies looking so damned good out there don’t work none in here. What you see is what you get.”

Was she fishing for compliments? God, women were so hard to understand sometimes. “You look lovely,” he offered, trying to ignore the obvious smell of piss.

“Ha!” Pandora came limping forward, reminding him of one of those crazy old fuckers he sometimes used to encounter in the Post Office. She sniffed the air. “So you’ll be the boy that wants to escape?”

Dylan nodded. “That’s me.” Something about her intense eyes unsettled him and froze him where he stood. He found he was scared of her for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Holy shit. Things must be a damned sight worse than I thought if you’re the best they’ve got to offer.” She shook her head. “Times call for a lion, and I get given a lamb. I can tell from the way you hold yourself you’re more suited to brushing out stables than carrying the hopes of a nation on your shoulders.”

Dylan stuck out his bottom lip. He didn’t like this mean old lady.

“Well, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Sweet Mary Mother of Joseph, let’s hope you ain’t as dumb as you look, because truth be told you look dumber than a bag of hammers.”

Her insults prickled at his skin. “Are you going to help me or not?” he asked indignantly.

“Help you? Well, that depends entirely on your definition of the word.” She cackled, and grinned toothlessly. “I’m going to send you out of here, just like you’ve been wanting. Whether that’ll be of any help to you remains to be seen. It isn’t an easy journey, and frankly you’ll regret undertaking it after you’ve not gone more than a dozen steps. You’ll soon be wishing you were right back here in the House of Fox, getting that big old cock of yours sucked by all them lackey floozies and hoochies.”

Only now did he realise quite how naked he was. Giovanni’s tuxedo had disappeared, as if blown away by a breeze. He covered his groin with his hands.

Pandora laughed. “No need to hide it, son. I’m a little long in the tooth to be getting offended by the sight of a man’s ding-a-ling.”

Frustration throbbed in Dylan’s temples. This whole experience felt like it was shaping up to be a waste of time. If only he’d stayed in bed this morning. “Can we just get on with it, please?”

“If you’re sure you really want to go through with this, we can get started right away.”

“I’m sure.” Dylan puffed out his chest. He wasn’t afraid. Was he?

Pandora nodded sagely. “Cool beans. Get down on your hands and knees. We’re going to work ourselves a little witchcraft.”

He knelt on the floor and got on all fours as instructed. The old woman squatted down beside him, her knees clicking and creaking. She ran her hand along his back, then reached between his thighs and closed her bony fingers around his cock.

Dylan pulled a face. Could it get much worse than this? Getting wanked off by an old lady in a hovel was seriously not cool.

“We’re going to need a little of your seed, so try and relax.” Pandora stroked his shaft with cold, leathery palms. “Come on big boy, squirt me up a handful.”

Dylan closed his eyes and tried to pretend the rather unpleasant motion at his groin was being caused by the mouth and tongue of that lovely blonde girl from last night rather than the warty, withered hands of a geriatric. He finally got hard, felt the flutters in his balls and gasped as he shot his load.

“Bingo,” Pandora muttered.

HOF quote 4

*****

Author Bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger.

Links:

Twitter: @sjsmithauthor

Blog: http://sjsmithrants.blogspot.co.uk

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

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