Tag Archives: guest blogger

Challenge Accepted By Annabeth Leong (@annabethleong)

July 6, 2015Guest Bloggerannabeth leong, BDSM, bdsm romance, challenge accepted, erotic romance, erotica, guest blogger, loose idK D Grace

Blurb:

After being shamed for her dominant desires too many times, Christine has resolved never to date a vanilla man again. She needs a man who knows he’s submissive, and she’s determined to hold out until she finds one.

Until she meets Sam, that is. Christine can’t bring herself to turn down the handsome parkour aficionado, so instead she tries to scare him off with an intensely kinky first date.

When Sam meets her extreme challenges head-on, Christine must decide if he can become the man to serve her every need—in the bedroom, and in her life.

Warnings: m/f anal play; BDSM content includes impact play, foot worship, dominance and submission, clamps placed in fairly extreme locations, and implied piercings.

Excerpt:

Even seeing only her back, Sam had no trouble recognizing Christine as he carried a sack of dirty clothes into the basement laundry room of his new apartment building. He’d liked her tall, thick frame the moment he’d caught her watching him, and he liked the way she moved. She folded clothes with sure, clean gestures. He’d been an athlete for enough of his life that he could immediately spot a woman in full control of her body and presence.

He hefted the laundry onto his shoulder and assumed a casual stance. He made his movements feel easy so they would look easy. “Christine.”

She turned. He liked that she didn’t jump. Maybe she knew he was coming.

He saw her reacting to him—gaze flicking down his body, body shifting to emphasize her hip. Her eyes were fierce, not welcoming. She looked as if she might be about to set him on fire. Apart from that, though, her nod was polite and distant.

Stretching and making a show of it, he set the laundry down beside a free machine. He didn’t know what to think of the contradictions he read in her body language. He was intrigued and wanted to get to know her. She, on the other hand, wasn’t being clear about what she wanted. He couldn’t tell if she was hoping he’d strike up a conversation or wishing he’d drop his clothes into the wash and get the hell out.

Sam had been raised in the type of family that communicated in code, and he didn’t like it. The only way he knew to make sense of the world was to speak his mind. “You up for company?”

She hesitated. “I think so,” she said finally.

“I’m glad.” His voice came out softer than he’d intended, his tone deferent.

There was something about Christine that made him want to address her that way. He stole glances as he started a washer. She dressed professionally, but not in an imposing way. Her body looked strong, but her shoulders were relaxed, her face at ease. She didn’t loom or intimidate, though he imagined she could if she wanted to. She had big, dark eyes and rich, brown skin. Her features weren’t delicate—he liked the bold lines of her nose and jaw—but neither were they harsh. The only hint of real severity he could see was in the way she wore her hair—straightened to within an inch of its life and sharply restrained.

“The weather’s gotten nice,” Sam said, reaching for an easy conversation starter. “Anything you’re looking forward to doing now?”

Christine shrugged. “Not wearing a heavy jacket.” Was that a touch of humor in the curve of her lips? He wasn’t sure.

“Definitely.” Sam kept his voice light. “You recognized parkour. Is that your sport?”

She laughed. “Afraid not.” Sam wondered if she was warming to him, but she was still so difficult to read. He hated the idea of lingering where he wasn’t wanted.

“Look,” he said. “I’d like to get to know you. I’d like to take you out sometime. Are you interested?” He had a nice Italian restaurant in mind if she said yes. If she said no, he’d ignore the flickers of interest he kept feeling from her.

She didn’t agree or refuse, though. Instead, she looked pained. “Why would you ask me that? We’ve got nothing in common.”

Sam stepped back, holding up his hands. “I asked because I wanted to know your answer,” he said, the words low and even. “If you’re not, it’s cool. I won’t bother you about it.” He’d be disappointed, of course, but he wasn’t the kind of jerk who would try to make a woman feel guilty about turning him down.

Christine reached toward him but dropped her arm just before she made contact. “You couldn’t handle me.”

Sam probably should have walked away at that point, but he’d noticed the way she’d almost touched him and the stubborn part of him couldn’t let the challenge pass. “What do you mean, I couldn’t handle you?”

Familiar anger rose to his chest. In high school, everyone had assumed he was a nerd because he was Chinese. He’d been told he wouldn’t be able to handle being on the football team, wouldn’t be able to handle American-style boxing—though everyone also seemed to expect him to be an expert at Wing Chun—and wouldn’t be able to handle going with the other guys on the team to play pranks on the local rivals.

Sam had responded to each of those challenges by proving his doubters wrong, doing everything better and harder than the people who had questioned him. He’d given up on obligatory popular sports to focus on parkour, but there was still a part of him that thrilled each time he pulled off a difficult move, exulting that, yet again, he’d shown them.

Christine’s skin darkened with a blush, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m kinky, okay? I doubt you’re ready for that.”

Sam blinked. “Wow, okay. That seems like something we could sort out after we go on a date and find out if we like each other. No need to jump ahead.”

“No point.” She shook her head, the gesture firm and dismissive. “It’s a waste of time to get to know each other if we’re just going to wind up incompatible.”

“Really?” Sam bristled. It irritated him when women assumed a Chinese guy wouldn’t know anything about sex, and he hoped that wasn’t what was going on. “I have heard about that book, you know. The one all the women are reading.”

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I like to be the one on the handle end of the flogger. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Sam had almost no idea what that entailed, but he pressed, annoyed that she’d presumed to tell him what he would and wouldn’t want. “How do you know? Talk to me about it first. Try me.”

“If you don’t already know about it, it’s just not going to work. I promise.”

Sam had never been aware of an interest in kink, but he couldn’t stand assumptions. “Tell me straight-out what you want to do,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell you whether or not I want to do it.”

Christine stared as if he’d suggested a really strange plan. It reminded Sam of so many movies he’d seen, times when characters acted like telling the truth was such an odd and original thing to come up with. “I don’t know…” she said.

He grabbed his now-empty laundry bag. The fabric snapped as he yanked it through the air. The fresh, warm scent pouring from the dryers seemed sour in that moment. “Or turn me down. Just don’t tell me what I can and can’t handle.”

Again, she moved as if she wanted to take hold of his wrist and stop him. Sam paused, trying to make it clear he would let her if that was what she wanted to do. They were still for a while, and then he gave up and walked to the door.

“Wait,” Christine said before he could leave.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe. Do you use IM? Can we talk later?”

He shrugged. “Sure.” This was probably another part of the brush-off. Maybe she thought it would be nicer if she offered to chat online. He didn’t particularly like that tactic, but he didn’t feel like criticizing it now. Without expecting to hear from her again, he gave her his username.

Buy Links:
Loose ID: http://www.loose-id.com/challenge-accepted.html
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1JtPabF
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1R3TTYq
All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/1R3TXHJ
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/challenge-accepted-1

Bio:

Annabeth Leong wears high heels and frequents the former haunts of H.P. Lovecraft. She is obsessed with baseball and marine life, and is an enthusiastic member of New England Feet. She is frequently confused about her sexuality, but enjoys searching for answers. Her work appears in more than 50 anthologies, including Best Bondage Erotica 2013, 2014, and 2015, Best Women’s Erotica 2015, and Best Erotic Romance 2014 and 2015. She is the author of a number of erotic novels, ranging from sweet to dark. Find Annabeth online at annabetherotica.com, and on Twitter @AnnabethLeong

The Last Amanuensis by Lisabet Sarai

June 29, 2015Guest Bloggererotica, guest blogger, Lisabet Sarai, new release, the last amanuensisK D Grace

Blurb

Poetry is like blood – you can’t hold it back.

The Emperor has decreed that Reason will rule in his lands. Art and literature are banned in favor of military technology. The fearsome Preceptors prowl the capitol, arresting anyone who dares, even secretly, to engage in forbidden activities.

A former teacher and frustrated writer, Adele is grateful for her job as secretary to the enigmatic Professor. During the day, she transcribes his learned treatises on a vast range of topics. Then he calls her to his room one night, to give her a more difficult and intimate assignment, one that risks both their lives.

Buy Links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

All Romance Ebooks

B&N

Kobo

Fireborn Publishing

Excerpt

I saw relatively little of the professor during the week. He spent his days in his basement laboratory, which was strictly forbidden to me, or shut away in his study, presumably filling new notebooks with observations and innovations that I would eventually be required to type. I’d leave my neat stacks of typewritten pages on the table outside his door so as not to disturb him. I worked in the small parlor across the hall and took my meals in the kitchen with the taciturn cook.

On Sundays, however, he and I dined together. After a glass of sherry, his chilly manner thawed a bit. He’d quiz me about the information I’d been transcribing, initially to see if I understood what I’d read, but later to solicit my opinions.

He asked me other questions, too, questions that bordered on improper.

“Who is your favorite novelist, Adele?”

My heart executed a sudden somersault. Was he trying to entrap me? “Ah—I’m not sure, sir. Of course I haven’t read any fiction since His Excellency rose to glory and urged us to abandon such frivolous pursuits.” I scanned his face. The deepening creases at the corners of his eyes belied his serious tone.

“But you did read, when you were in your teens, did you not? Before the Ascension? A mind as nimble as yours must have devoured everything you encountered.”

My fear ebbed, though I remained wary. Meanwhile, his compliment kindled a warm glow in the pit of my stomach. “Yes. I did read a lot—before.” His lips twitched and his icy gaze softened, inviting my confidence. I basked in his rare, concerted attention. His interest, the sense that he viewed me as worthy, urged me to recklessness. “I used to write, too. Crazy, fantastic stories about impossible quests and eternal love.”

The smile I’d heard in his voice finally bloomed. “I’m not surprised in the least. Nor am I shocked, Adele. Be reassured of that.” To my astonishment, he covered my hand for a moment with his own. His cool, dry palm whispered over the backs of my fingers before withdrawing. Blood heated my cheeks, as if I were still the young girl we were discussing, and a disturbing heaviness grew between my thighs.

“They—ah—were silly things,” I stammered. “Trash. A waste of mental energy, as the Emperor has said.”

“But you poured yourself into those tales, I’m sure. They were part of you.” Those crystal-blue eyes of his gleamed, luminous behind his glasses.

A new wave of panic swept me. What was going on? I pushed my chair back from the table, eager to excuse myself and end this disturbing conversation. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll retire now. I’ve something of a headache.”

For an instant I thought he’d stop me. Then his smile fled and his body collapsed into itself, his advanced age suddenly obvious. “Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow. But tell me—what happened to those fantastic stories of yours?”

My throat constricted around an impending sob. I could scarcely get the words out.

“I destroyed them, of course.”

My employer regarded me gravely. “Right. Of course.”

About Lisabet

From my elementary school years, when I devoured everything I could find by Asimov, Heinlein and Bradbury, I’ve been drawn to speculative fiction. Now that I’m an author myself, I create my own futurescapes. My visions are sometimes bleak —but always illumined by desire.

Links:
Website: http:/www.lisabetsarai.com
Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai
Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list

Siobhan Daiko (@FCourtesans) Talks about Her Latest Release: Veronica Courtesan

June 28, 2015Guest Bloggererotic romance, erotica, fragrant courtesans, guest blogger, historical, historical romance, siobhan daiko, veronicaK D Grace

Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog, KD. It’s great to be here and to share about my new release with you and your readers. Veronica COURTESAN is inspired by the life of Veronica Franco, one of the most sought-after courtesans in 16^th Century Venice, who was also a poet and writer. She was well-educated at a time in history when most women were barely literate. Yes, she was a self-promoter, but she also loved deeply and was loved in return. In the following excerpt, Veronica is entertaining two of her patrons, aiming to be invited to a literary salon. There she meets Domenico Venier, who becomes her editor. Even in the 16^th Century, having an editor was vital to a writer. I don’t know how I would manage without mine, the fantastic John Hudspith, who also worked with me on my time-slip historical romance Lady of Asolo.

Excerpt

We make polite conversation throughout the meal, but, as soon as we progress to the portego for after-dinner drinks and entertainment, I get right to the point. ‘My lord, Signor Ludovico tells me you frequent a literary salon.’

‘That’s right. Domenico Venier’s. ’Tis the most important gathering place for intellectuals and writers in Venice.’

‘Are courtesans welcome there?’

‘I’ve noticed a few. Why?’

I’m seized by a sudden shyness. Will he think I’m being forward? Thankfully, Ludovico answers for me.

‘I’ve told you about Veronica’s abilities. Don’t tease the girl!’

The count laughs and drains his glass. I reach across to refill it, my gaze meeting his. ‘I write poetry. My greatest desire
is to learn from others and improve my own work.’

‘Will you read me one of your poems?’

‘With pleasure.’ I go to my desk and return with the verse on which I’m now working.

‘If you are overcome by love for me,

Take me in far sweeter fashion

Than anything my quill can describe.

Your love can be the steadfast knot that pulls me towards you,

Joined to you more tightly than a nail in hard wood;

Your love can make you master of my life,

Show me the love I’ve asked for from you,

And you’ll then enjoy my sweetness to the full.’

‘Very good!’ Andrew Tron rises from his chair and bows. ‘You have talent, Signora Veronica. I shall be delighted to introduce you to Venier. Pray tell me, in what far sweeter fashion can a man take you than your quill can describe?’

I laugh. ‘Ah, that’s something I have yet to discover – which is why my quill cannot describe it.’

Ludovico, who has been watching us up until now, his lips twitching with mirth, gets up from his chair and goes to close the door. ‘Shall we try and give this lady the sweetness she desires?’

My jaw drops. The count’s blue eyes look into mine. He inclines his head and gives a lopsided grin. Intrigued, I glance from one to the other.

Ludovico unbuttons my skirt. Under it, I’m wearing my breeches. He cups my buttocks, and wetness floods me. ‘What say you?’

I pretend to consider, although I know the answer already. ‘I say, yes.’

Blurb

Veronica COURTESAN

I watch him watching us, imagining how he would take me.

I send him the message with my eyes. This is who I am. I am Veronica Franco. I am a COURTESAN.

I court the cultural elite for fame and fortune, giving my body to many. And I’m good. So very good. After all, I was taught by my mother, and mother always knows best.

How else to please the future King of France than with the imaginative use of Murano glass? How else to fulfil the desires of all yet keep my sense of self-worth?

But when disaster strikes and my life begins to unravel, I’ll have to ask myself one question: Is it too late to give my
heart to just one man?

Set in Venice 16^th Century.

Advisory: sensuously erotic. 18+

Buy links

Amazon Kindle: http://viewbook.at/Veronica_FC1

Paperback: http://viewbook.at/Veronica_pb

Author Bio

Siobhan Daiko is an author of romantic historical fiction and a new series of erotic novellas featuring famous courtesans – strong women who held their own in a man’s world. A lover of all things Italian, Siobhan lives in the Veneto region of northern Italy with her husband and two cats. After a life of romance and adventure in Hong Kong, Australia and the UK she now spends her time, when she isn’t writing, enjoying the dolce vita near Venice.

Social Media/Web links
www.siobhandaiko.wordpress.com
www.fragrantpublishing.com
Facebook Page
Fragrant Courtesans Facebook
Amazon Author Page
Twitter
You Tube Book Trailer

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Fourth World: Erotic tales of monsters, myths and magic by Lisabet Sarai

June 22, 2015Guest Bloggererotica, excessica publishing, fourth world, guest blogger, Lisabet Sarai, new releaseK D Grace

Enter the fourth world – a world of lust and shadows, where anything can happen.

Obsessive passion and dark ecstasy mark these seven stories of paranormal desire from eroticist Lisabet Sarai. An undead couple hunts for beauty and youth in the history-drenched streets of Prague. A sex addict meets his fate in the embrace of a seductive monster. An innocent writer offers her body and heart to a century-old ghost. A spiritual seeker succumbs to temptation in the arms of a fearsome and greedy goddess. A kinky, blood-drenched threesome unfolds in a luxurious Bangkok penthouse. These tales conjure the magic of sex, and its dangers. Expect to be unbearably aroused and occasionally terrified. Do not expect happily ever afters.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

B&N

Kobo

Excessica

Excerpt:

“Master Carl?” My eyes trained respectfully on his scuffed boots, I stand back to let him enter. The door swings shut behind him.

He fists my hair and forces me to my knees. My cock surges inside my pants.

“Don’t speak unless I ask you a question, boy. Understand?”

“Yes—yes, Sir.” I feel vaguely guilty bestowing that honorific on anyone but my true master. Keeping my gaze straight ahead, where an impressive lump distorts his worn dungarees, I catch a whiff of gasoline and old, sour sweat. His hand goes to his fly. I hold my breath, my heart slamming against my ribs.

“So you want me to cut you? That’s what you said, right?”

“That’s right, Sir.”

He peels the zipper down and hauls out his massive, uncut cock. “Suck me first. If you do a good job, maybe I’ll get out my knife.”

I have no opportunity to reply. He mashes the head of his dick against my lips, pushes them apart, and drives his rod down my throat. When I sputter and choke around the rigid plug of flesh, he draws back a bit, letting me gulp air into my lungs. Then he rams back in, but this time, I’m ready. I suck at him like a kid with an ice cream soda, swirling my tongue over his bulb and tickling the ridge beneath.

He groans a bit. His blunt fingers clutch my shoulders to hold me still while he thrusts. He’s found his rhythm now, a hard, fast plunge followed by a slower withdrawal. My lips cling to the sleek, steely bulk of him each time he retreats.

Despite the funky smell of his jeans, he tastes clean, a bit flowery, as if he used perfumed soap. I’m reminded of them—my real master and mistress—and all at once I’m on the edge of coming. I tense, knowing that’s not permitted and my abuser senses the change. He’s a serious Dom, despite his tough demeanor, attuned to his submissive’s reactions. His hesitation gives me the chance for a deep breath and the urge subsides a bit, though my cock still throbs every time he fills my mouth.

I let myself pretend that the cock I’m sucking belongs to my master. He’s longer and more slender than Carl, but I don’t doubt he’d be equally rough. Cruelty is a habit for him. Closing my eyes, I picture him looming over me, his raven curls tumbling over his brow, his lips stretched in a taut grimace of pleasure. I’ve never tasted him, never touched him, but I know his skin would be cool and silky. His cock would be hard as a marble tomb.

About Lisabet

When I was a little girl, my dad would make up stories for my siblings and me, fabulous sagas about ghosts and monsters, magical races with mysterious powers, heroes on impossible quests, hidden treasures awaiting only the most courageous seeker. I blame him for my lifelong fascination with the magical and miraculous.

Now that I’ve grown up, I create my own tales of wonder, weaving in generous portions of human desire with its potent enchantments. Lust and power—terror and ecstasy—my paranormal stories will make you believe in magick.

Guest Blog: Charlotte Howard

June 10, 2015Guest Bloggercharlotte howard, erotic romance, erotica, guest blogger, romance, seven dirty words, tirgearr publishingK D Grace

Thanks for hosting! As you’ll see when you read Seven Dirty Words, my books always include the same main ingredients: a strong-minded woman, an Alpha male, food, and endless cups of tea. Why? Because these four things are important in my life and make me who I am. Let me elaborate…

I grew up with two sisters (I actually have six, but that’s a blog post in itself), my Mum, and my Dad who worked abroad, so was only around for a few weeks of the year. My parents had a turbulent marriage, which sadly ended in divorce when I was 18. With so many women, such little male influence in my life, I guess it was only natural that I should grow up to be an independent woman who knows what she wants, and knows how to get it. Saying I’m strong-minded would be the polite way of saying stubborn and pig-headed – ask my husband! And even though it has led to conflict, I believe that being a woman who is able to fend for herself and knows her own mind, has been a positive aspect of my life, which is why I’m bringing my daughter up to be the same. She has her tantrums, but she is a confident little missy who won’t be walked over when she’s older.

To completely contradict myself, I do like an Alpha male. I’ve read the FSOG trilogy, the Crossfire series, and several other erotic and romance novels and the Alpha male status definitely appeals to me. Perhaps it’s because of my strong personality – I need a challenge. I don’t want to be married to a pushover who lets me walk over him. I want someone who will put me in my place without being abusive, and that’s what a true Alpha male is. He is a powerful man who cares for and loves his woman and will do anything to keep her safe. It doesn’t have to go down the BDSM route, in fact none of my books can be classed as BDSM, although the subject is brushed upon in The Black Door and my WIP, Educating Miss Beauchamp.

So that’s people, but what about food and tea? Haha! Well that’s my life all over – I eat and I drink tea. In fact the other week I got told that I eat so much, I could never be classed as a cheap date. Steak or salad? Just hand me the entire cow please! I love a takeaway, which is touched upon with a Chinese in Seven Dirty Words, and a curry in The Final Straight. But you have to be healthy as well, which is why my characters are active and either have a gym membership or a hobby that requires them to keep fit. The tea thing, well… anyone who knows me can tell you how much tea I drink. I even have a thermos with a lid so that I can drink tea whilst I’m working without worrying about spilling it over a computer or scalding a colleague.

All of these things are who I am. I am a strong-minded woman married to an Alpha male, I love my food, and woe-betide anyone who takes my tea away! I guess you could say it’s my brand, and it features heavily in all of my books, especially Seven Dirty Words, and will be present in any future novels too.

Seven_Dirty_Words_by_Charlotte_Howard_FB_banner

Excerpt:

“I’ve never seen a girl eat like you.” He laughed.

“I’m starving,” I said, in between mouthfuls of prawns and peas, trying to ignore the dimming room. A crash overhead started the storm’s symphony. Fat raindrops splattered against the window as the room lit with a sudden flash. Seconds later, another rumble filled the air. I shuddered.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t like thunder storms,” I admitted, finishing the last of my noodles. The truth was I was afraid of any loud noise.

“Don’t worry, I won’t force you out in this.”

“I forgot to bring a coat,” I grumbled, rubbing my arms as though it had suddenly got cold.

Matt stood and peered out the window. “It’ll be a while before this is over.” He picked up the plates and took them into the kitchen. I followed him, not wanting to be alone.

As I walked in, I suddenly remembered the large windows, and saw the dreary sky blanketing the village. My eyes widened in fear as another flash filled the sky.

Matt smiled at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” He laughed, nearing me. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

“Appearances can be deceptive.”

“They most certainly can!” He took my hand and led me back into the living room. “Well, it looks like we’ll be here a bit longer than intended.” We sat back down on the sofa.

“And no TV to kill the time,” I said, staring at the empty fireplace. “Look, if you want to get rid of me, I can make a mad dash to the car door. It’s only rain.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you, Paige.” As he said my name, the hairs on my neck and arms stood on end. “But I’m not willing to share you either.”

Blurb & Buy Links:

Paige Holmes hides herself in a masculine world in a desperate attempt to remain safe.

Just as she is ready to face her fears and her past, she finds herself torn between Matt Jackson and Vance Ellery: handsome, rich, and safe – or handsome, rich, and dangerous?

Which will she choose?

The one who appears to be the most perfect, or the one who makes her use all Seven Dirty Words?

Tirgearr Publishing: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/seven-dirty-words.htm
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1ExJtUx
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1dy702q
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seven-dirty-words-charlotte-howard/1114293556
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/seven-dirty-words-3
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/seven-dirty-words/id992996036
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/541059?ref=cw1985

Bio & Social Media Links:

My career as a writer started when I was young, writing poetry and flash fiction for my friends and family. After a few minor successes of having pieces published in anthologies, and later on-line, I decided to have a go at writing a full-length novel. My first attempt was a bit of a disaster, but after years of practice, I finally got that coveted First Contract. Since then, I’ve written several more novels and short stories, and I don’t intend to retire for at least another 50 years.

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

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

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

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