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Out Now – Testing Tom by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #bdsm #femdom

Testing TomBlurb:

When Katrina’s ex, Tom, turns up on her doorstep, he’s literally the last person she was expecting to see. After dumping her and running off with a vanilla chick, Tom broke the Domme’s heart and left her seriously hurting. So when he returns, begging for another chance, Katrina is understandably very confused and protective of her bruised feelings. She finds it very difficult to believe that he’s turned his back on a vanilla lifestyle for good and wants to be with her, a professional dominatrix. Rather than letting her head or her heart figure out what to do, whether to forgive him, she decides to put Tom through a series of challenges that will prove his devotion to her—or not. Testing Tom is not something she’d ever expected she’d have to do, but to her, it’s the only way she can be sure whether he’s back for good.

This is a previously published work. It has been edited for Evernight Publishing.

Amazon: http://mybook.to/testingtom

Other buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/testing-tom/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27323611-testing-tom

*****

Excerpt:

Katrina was halfway through an episode of her favorite drama series when her doorbell rang. She jumped, gasping as her heart lurched painfully, then pressed ‘pause’ on the remote control. Wincing slightly as she unfolded her legs from beneath her bottom—she’d been watching the program back-to-back for a couple of hours and she was stiff—she moved to the window and peered out through a gap in the curtains, careful not to let the mystery visitor see her, should she need to ignore them. Cold callers were common in her area, and drove her crazy. If she wanted to buy something, she’d contact them, not the other way around.

As it happened, it wasn’t a salesperson. She ducked back from the window, clenched her hands into fists.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

He was literally the last person she’d expected to see standing at her door. Prince William or George Clooney would have been less of a shock.

For there, outside her house, stood the man that had broken her heart several months ago. Thomas Black. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since, and now, totally out of the blue, he’d turned up.

Katrina contemplated ignoring him, going back to her show and pretending she wasn’t in. But apparently that wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re there, Katrina,” he yelled through the letterbox, “your car is on the drive, and I can see the glow of the telly through the curtains.”

Katrina decided it was time to get thicker curtains. Not wanting to cause a scene, which her nosey neighbors would no doubt adore, she moved to the front door, unlocked it and flung it open.

“Get in,” she said, quickly closing the door behind him, then turning to face her unwanted visitor. “What the hell do you want?”

He held his hands up in supplication, then spoke. “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you expected to see—wanted to see—but I have to talk to you. Please?”

He adopted the puppy-dog look he’d long-since perfected. Katrina sighed.

“You’ve got five minutes. Sit down.”

They moved over to the sitting area, and Katrina deliberately sat in the chair, so Tom couldn’t sit next to her. Settling onto the end of the sofa nearest to her, he clasped his hands together, presumably to summon his courage, and began.

“Kat, I’m here to say I’m sorry, all right? I was wrong, so wrong, to finish with you the way I did and go off with Alicia.”

“She dumped you, has she?” Katrina clenched her teeth, and felt the rage beginning to build inside her. If Tom thought he could come running back to her because his bimbo had ditched him, then he had another think coming.

“No,” he said firmly, and, she suspected, honestly. “I finished with her, actually. When I realized that I wasn’t happy with her. She never made me feel the way you do, Kat. Not once. And I know, I know it’s my fault. I wanted something… different from what we had, or at least I thought I did. I couldn’t help thinking at the time that what we did was wrong, was weird. Abnormal, even. So when Alicia started flirting with me at work, I started thinking perhaps I should try for something normal. Like everybody else out there.”

He fixed her with his soulful gaze, and continued. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yes, Alicia offered me normality, a vanilla relationship, but I soon discovered it couldn’t satisfy me. Sure, she could make me come in all the usual ways—”

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear this, Tom. I don’t want to hear about your sex life with someone else!”

“Sorry, Kat. Please, just let me finish?”

When she gave a curt nod, he carried on speaking.

“Alicia could make me come in all the usual ways—I am just a man, after all—but it wasn’t the same. Wasn’t as good. It wasn’t long before I started to miss you, miss what we had together, both in and out of the bedroom. I ignored it for as long as I could, forced myself to make the effort with Alicia, but it just got to the stage where I couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t ignore what I was, what I enjoyed, what I needed. And that’s you, Kat. I need you, and everything that goes with you.”

As a Domme, Katrina had become an expert in hiding her feelings, whether she was aroused, angry, happy, sad… it was all stuffed behind a stern facial expression. Now, though, she almost faltered. When Tom had left her, she’d remained cool and silent until the door had slammed. Then she’d broken down. She’d been deeply in love with him, and his decision had left her devastated. Months down the line, her love for him hadn’t faded, not one bit, and the fact that he was here, right now, apparently trying to get her back, was something she’d never expected. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw something at him.

She didn’t do any of those things. She kept her face straight, her thoughts whizzing through her head at a hundred miles per hour. Eventually, after letting him squirm in his seat for a minute or so, she replied. “So what exactly are you saying, Tom? What do you want?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to make him suffer, the way he had done to her after ditching her for something, someone, that could never satisfy him.

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*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Out Now! Christmas at the Castle by Jenny Kane (@jennykaneauthor) #contemporary #romance #christmas #ku #kindleunlimited

Christmas at the CastleBlurb

Christmas at the Castle is a seasonal treat from Jenny Kane, featuring much-loved characters from her bestselling novel Another Cup of Coffee.

When hotshot businesswoman Alice Warren is asked to organise a literary festival at beautiful Crathes Castle in Scotland, her ‘work mode’ persona means she can’t say no – even though the person asking is her ex, Cameron Hunter.

Alice broke Cameron’s heart and feels she owes him one – but her best friend Charlie isn’t going to like it. Charlie – aka famous author Erin Spence – is happy to help Alice with the festival…until she finds out that Cameron’s involved! Charlie suffered a bad case of unrequited love for Cameron, and she can’t bear the thought of seeing him again.

Caught between her own insecurities and loyalty to her friend, Charlie gets fellow author Kit Lambert to take her place. Agreeing to leave her London comfort zone – and her favourite corner in Pickwicks Café – Kit steps in. She quickly finds herself not just helping out, but hosting a major literary event, while also trying to play fairy godmother – a task which quickly gets very complicated indeed…

Available to buy from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited Programme: http://mybook.to/christmasatthecastle

 

Extract

Charlie pushed open the door of The Deeside Bookshop.

Instead of being greeted by John, she was surprised to see a much younger man behind the counter. Having never known the shop without John in it, Charlie was immediately concerned. ‘Um, hello, I wondered if I could speak to John, is he OK?’

‘He’s very OK, thank you. Soaking up the sun in New Zealand in fact.’

‘Oh.’ Not sure what to do, Charlie decided she’d dive straight in anyway. If John trusted this man to run the shop in his absence, then he must be alright. ‘Could I have a quick chat about the literary festival at Crathes? I know Ms Warren has already approached the shop, but I…’

The man, who Charlie guessed must be in his late thirties, ran an exasperated hand through his short hair. ‘I already told your colleague I can’t help. What Ms Warren is asking of me is not cost-effective. Although I wish you luck with the festival, the tactic of sending her prettier colleague to get me to change my mind is not going to work!’

Prettier colleague? Charlie felt thrown. No one ever thought she was prettier than Alice.

‘I assure you no… tactics are in play. I’m only helping out today because I’m a friend of one of the other organisers, and I have a more sensible and, I think, more realistic proposition for you than Alice did. I will tell you about it if you would like to hear it; if not, I’ll leave you in peace to stare around your customer-free shop!’

Rather taken aback by the edge to her tone, the tension in Charlie’s shoulders unknotted a little as, to her amazement, the man began to laugh.

Placing the books he’d been holding on the counter he said, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me for being abrupt. My name is Gervase Potter; I bought John out a few weeks ago. This little empire is now mine.’

Tilting his head to one side, giving Charlie the impression he was enjoying the view, he added, ‘I would very much like to hear your proposal. How about we discuss it tonight over a drink at Scott Skinner’s? I haven’t made it there yet, and I hear it’s a nice pub.’

With her brain privately grappling with the concept of being asked out for a drink by a handsome man who liked books, Charlie replied, ‘It is nice. I often go to Skinner’s to write when I need a change of scene from my desk at home. Oh, I’m Charlie, by the way. Charlie Davies.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Charlie. So, you write?’

‘Yes.’ Charlie pointed to the bookshelves, ‘I’m over there somewhere.’

‘You are? Who are you, then? I mean, who else are you?’

‘Erin Spence.’

The Unbrave Heart Erin Spence?’

Charlie’s pulse started to beat faster. He didn’t immediately connect me with The Love-Blind Boy. ‘Yes. Yes that was my first novel.’

‘I love that book.’

‘You’ve read it?’ Charlie was shocked. ‘Forgive me, but you don’t look like you’d be into women’s fiction.’

‘I’m not as a rule, but my ex-girlfriend had the audiobook and we played it on a long journey once or twice. I enjoyed it. You have a very perceptive view of the male side of things.’

‘Really?’ Charlie could feel herself blushing, ‘Thanks. It’s kind of you to say so.’

‘Not at all. That drink tonight, then? Eight o’clock? With a meal as well, maybe?’

‘To talk about my idea for the festival?’

‘I’m making no promises, because I think I’d rather talk about you.’

Charlie’s head buzzed with contradictory thoughts. Had she been right to agree to go out with Gervase? Only this morning she’d been thinking about how she felt about Cameron being back, and now she was going on a date with someone else. A part of her knew she’d only said yes in the hope that Alice and Cameron might see them. But so what if they did? Cameron isn’t going to be jealous, and I don’t want him any more anyway. And Alice wouldn’t notice in her current mode if I walked around naked with a pineapple on my head.

A new thought entered Charlie’s head. Was there any point in going out with another man until Alice had gone home? Gervase would only have to see them standing next to each other, and it wouldn’t be her that he wanted to take for dinner anymore.

Suddenly, Charlie stopped moving. She knew she was being ridiculous, but somehow the thought of how Alice was always going to be there to eclipse her wouldn’t shift…

 

Bio

Jenny Kane is the author the contemporary romance Christmas at the Castle (Accent Press, 2015), the bestselling novel Abi’s House (Accent Press, 2015), the modern/medieval time slip novel Romancing Robin Hood (Accent Press, 2014), the bestselling novel Another Cup of Coffee (Accent Press, 2013), and its novella length sequels Another Cup of Christmas (Accent Press, 2013), and Christmas in the Cotswolds (Accent, 2014).

Jenny’s fourth full length romance novel, Another Glass of Champagne, will be published in 2016.

Jenny is also the author of quirky children’s picture books There’s a Cow in the Flat (Hushpuppy, 2014) and Ben’s Biscuit Tin (Coming soon from Hushpuppy)

Keep your eye on Jenny’s blog at www.jennykane.co.uk for more details.

Twitter- @JennyKaneAuthor

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/JennyKaneRomance

Jenny also writes erotica as Kay Jaybee.

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Lily Harlem’s RULE BREAKER is Now Out!

rulebreaker_800Rule Breaker by Lily Harlem

Rule Breaker, a dark erotic romance novel by Lily Harlem, is out now from Totally Bound and all other good ebook retailers Amazon   Amazon UK ARe Kobo B&N Sony ibooks .

 

Back Cover Information

Locks, keys and prison bars can’t contain a love that’s meant to roam wild and free, but when that love is let loose, will Lacey be able to handle what’s heading her way?

 Rules are meant to protect the innocent and keep danger at bay—except for me. The lines blur, and it all started when I met the ultimate bad boy. But is he? Miller Davenport might be big, bad and brimming with sin but he’s confessed his crimes and for ten years he’s served his time and walked the line.

Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And as his nurse—the one person who understands him—I can’t help but count the days till we can be together properly, without guards watching over us and without every look and word we share censored.

When that day comes, though, will our desire for each other explode and take me to the new heights he’s promised? And if so, how will I survive such intensity?

One thing is for sure. With Miller I’ll be whisked up in a whirlwind of his dark energy and a tornado of his lust, and likely taken to the very edge of what I can handle. I can’t help a few nerves, though, as release day approaches, because if it all comes crashing down, who can I depend on when I’ve ridden into the sunset with a man who’s broken all the rules? Will I be saved or will I have pushed everyone and everything too far?

 

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of exhibitionism, anal play and light restraint.

 

 rulebreaker_facebook

 

Rule Breaker Excerpt:

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just go with the first one they show me. Fuck it, it’s a cake shop. They’ll all be bloody nice.” He glanced at Miller then back to me. “Do you mind if I make a call while you—?”

“Not at all, go ahead.” I waved him to the seat. “This is my last time with Miller anyway, so I’m sure he’ll behave.”

Miller’s jaw was tense. His eyebrows drew low and a small muscle flexed in his cheek.

Barry pulled out his phone and, without glancing at me again, dropped his bulk into the chair—the legs scraped on the hard floor. He started scrolling over the screen.

“Come on,” I said to Miller.11218804_10206234015150186_5016125009797362539_n

He followed me into the clinical room.

I walked up to the counter and reached for my tray of equipment.

“Lacey.”

I startled. He was right behind me.

He set his hands on the work surface, one either side of my body, trapping me against it with his torso.

“What?” I whispered, glancing at the door, my head brushing his.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, his mouth right against my ear.

A thrill and a chill went through me as my neck and scalp tingled and tightened at his nearness.

“What about it?” I placed my right hand over his, cupping his hard knuckles. It was a bold move, but touching him was what I craved—I couldn’t help myself.

I heard him pull in a breath. “Meet me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you fucking want. Just be there.” He paused and pushed a little harder against me.

His groin, the outline of his cock, semi-hard, nestled against the crack of my buttocks. Lust blazed through my veins. Damn it, tomorrow was too long to wait.

But we had to.

“There’s a pub, round the corner from here,” I said. “The Cow and Slipper.”

He turned his hand and gripped my forearm. His fingertips pressed over my pulse points, his fingers were big and dark against the delicate veiny underside of my wrist.

11698665_1655255248043126_8459995044649230714_n“I’ll be there at noon,” he said.

“So will I.”

“Thank you.” He pressed his cheek against my ear. The weight of his head was heavy against mine.

I leaned into him. The daring, risky move heightened all of my senses. His chest against my shoulders, his breath on my cheek and his stubble against my temple. And damn, his body shoved into mine, his cock pushing through clothes against my arse. I wanted it. All of it.

“We’ll take it slow,” he whispered. “Get to know each other without a boss watching over us. Speak freely about what we want. I’m not in it for a lay. What we have is special. I’m doing this because I want you—always have, from the first time I saw you.” He paused. “But you know that.”

I swallowed and turned. I did know that.

He released my wrist.

I looked up at him. This was the closest we’d ever been. I was surrounded by him, wrapped up in him. It was where I wanted to be.

He leaned a little closer and his chest brushed against mine.

My nipples drew into pinched peaks, scraping against the inner cups of my bra.

“I thought of you last night,” he said. He lifted his hand and caressed my cheek. The small hard patches of skin, from where he banged weights, scratched against my flesh.

“What did you think?” I asked, my hands hovering. I wanted to touch him but didn’t dare, for fear that I wouldn’t be able to stop.

I glanced at the door again.

11038729_1382977422028978_4221721081181013521_n“Shh, it’s okay. I can still hear him talking,” he said.

“Maybe you should tell me tomorrow, when we don’t have to rush.” My heart was racing, adrenaline swamping my system. The thought of Barry catching us like this had me on a knife’s edge, but I couldn’t push Miller away. Barry had been instructed to behave like Miller might be a danger to me, yet I’d never felt safer than at this moment with Miller’s full attention—with Miller, big, bad now-tamed Miller, looming over me.

I knew what he was, what he was capable of, but he’d been reformed. He was being let out. The judge, the crown, had decided he’d paid for his crimes and he was no longer a danger to society.

Which meant he wasn’t a danger to me.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow then,” he said, lowering his head. “If that’s what you want.”

I stared into his dark eyes, at the way his lashes pointed slightly downward. They weren’t curled, and he had a tiny freckle like a teardrop under his left eye. I hadn’t noticed that before. Hadn’t been close enough.

“I’ll look after you, hen,” he whispered. “Don’t ever be afraid of me. I’m not violent. I’m a good man now. I’ll be your good man for as long as you’ll have me. I promise. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not…scared, that is.”

“Good.” He leaned closer still. I looked at his lips. I could see every tiny dent and crease on them, his top one was thinner than the bottom and with stubble peppered right up to the outline.

Fuck, is he going to kiss me?

We couldn’t.

Not here.

Not now.

“No,” I mouthed.

He pressed his closed lips to mine. They were dry, yet soft. He held my head in both of his hands and pushed his hard body forward, trapping me against the counter.

I whimpered and clung to his forearms. Terror and desire warred within me. I’d lose my job. He could lose his good-behavior privilege and be held for the remainder of his sentence.

It was the most reckless kiss I’d ever experienced, yet also the gentlest, sweetest connection I could ever remember.

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4He pulled back.

I opened my eyes.

His were still shut.

He furled his tongue over his bottom lip, as though tasting me there.

“Jesus,” he said quietly. “How the hell am I going to get through this last night without you?”

“Stop.” I rested my hands on his chest and pushed. “Please, save this for tomorrow.” Again I threw a glance at the door.

“Okay.” He opened his eyes, released me and stepped back. He held up his palms as if surrendering. “This last bit is the hardest though. I guess it’s like running a marathon. It’s all shit but the last mile? The last hundred yards? That’s what really gets you here.” He banged his chest. “It’s the shitiest bit.”

“I suppose.” I rubbed the tip of my index finger on my lips, reliving the sensation of his mouth on mine.

“Fucking genius you are, Lacey,” Barry said, walking in.
A flash of surprise went over Miller’s face.

Alarm must have crossed mine too.

Neither of us had heard him finish his conversation or been aware of him approaching the clinical room.

Bloody hell. If he’d come in ten seconds ago…no, make that five seconds ago.

 

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes lily-harlemfor publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Pride Publishing, Evernight Publishing, Xcite, and Sweetmeats Press. Her work regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot, In Expert Hands and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

 

Find Lily on the Web

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

 

Out Now – Something Different by Nia Farrell #erotica #menage #mfm #bdsm

SOMETHING DIFFERENT coverSOMETHING DIFFERENT (The Three Graces Book Two) is a standalone MFM ménage BDSM rock star erotic romance by Nia Farrell.  Only $2.99 for a potty mouthed gamer girl and triple platinum indie artists who are about to rock her world.

 

REVIEWERS:

“Sexy and sultry”  “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.” “Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”

 

BLURB:

Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate.  Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways.  No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner, Anna’s alter ego AJ McPherson.  From the first, it’s clear that the triple-platinum indie rock stars want more than her music, but does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twin brothers who perform as No Mercy?

 

Buy links to Something Different:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes and Noble | Allromance | BookStrand | Smashwords | Dark Hollows Press | Goodreads

Three Graces DHP banner jpeg 300

The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell

SOMETHING ELSE August 25, 2015

SOMETHING DIFFERENT September 29, 2015

SOMETHING MORE October 15, 2015

from Dark Hollows Press

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Excerpt:

They’re staring now, trying to reconcile reality with my stage name and with how I look in the cheesy publicity photo I use, shot four years ago when I turned eighteen and my mother wanted the whole glamour thing captured for posterity. She’s never forgiven me for refusing to let them tease and torture my hair. In the shot, I’m looking over my shoulder like I’m caught in a fucking daydream, while my thick, straight hair drapes my back like a black silk curtain.

I wear my hair shorter now, streaked with red and purple. Those splashes of color and my asymmetrical cut keep it well this side of boring.

My eyes, on the other hand, are the same. Unlike my hair, they wouldn’t improve with the enhancement of colored contacts. They’re purple. Fucking Liz Taylor purple–one of those anomalies of nature that my mother can’t explain. Hell, I’ve caught my dad looking at me sideways, like I might be the spawn of an incubus, ‘cause there’s no way that I belong to the Chinese-born mail man. I guess my wild ways haven’t given him any peace of mind, either. Shit, when I met Grace, she didn’t screw, didn’t swear. Now she goes to bed with two strapping men every night and has a mouth that could make a biker blush. As far as I’m concerned, my corruption of her is complete.

Right now, she’s staying blessedly silent. The Thomason twins are, too.

When the intensity of their stares shifts from kind of rude to downright disconcerting, I’m tempted to stick out my tongue and tease them with the surgical steel ball I’ve sported since I turned twenty-one last year. Right now Jacob’s looking at the diamond stud adorning my left nostril, and Jackson’s staring at my C-cup breasts, his own nostrils flaring as my responsive nipples tighten to hardened nubs.

Enough of this shit.

“Guys.” I drop my voice to a husky whisper that could earn six figures at a 900 number. “I might use an outdated picture to throw people off, but my eyes–they’re fucking purple, for Christ’s sake.”

Yep, the eyes have it. Recognizing them, both men sit straighter and exchange a look that makes excitement thrum in my veins. They’re here to see Nico, but why? I remind myself to breathe, tell myself to slow down before my imagination runs too wild. They wouldn’t be the first major artists wanting to lay tracks with the American Indian artist and his native flutes.

“So…AJ–Anna James.” Jackson says it likes he’s tasting my name, tasting me.

I swear my pussy’s gushing. Okay, so they might not have come looking for me, but they know my work. They’re big fish in my small pond, and their recognition means everything to someone like me.

“Yes, but please, guys, call me Anna. Jax. Jake.”

Recognizing them as individuals, and not just as No Mercy, earns me a brownie point. I rack up more for not going all fangirl on them.

“You work with Nico White. Motherfucker.” Jackson eyes his brother, then turns back to Grace. “Nico’s expecting us at eight. I suppose we’ll see you both then?”

Eight? Shit. That’s–

“You’ll see more of Anna,” Grace tells them. “I make myself scarce on music writing night. The energy’s too intense for me.”

I’ve suspected as much, but the lake where she lives with her lovers is really conducive to creativity. So, rather than meet at the apartment I rent above a vintage storefront on Main Street or somewhere else, Nico and I have our songwriting sessions at their house. Grace, bless her, doesn’t complain, since it means she gets to have some alone-time with J.T., the half-Puerto Rican member of their threesome.

While Grace starts a review of local businesses that would make a Chamber of Commerce proud, I’m thinking of tonight. I might be working with these two men, writing for them. Fuck, maybe we’ll be writing with them. The possibility makes me wet. I know how Nico and I work. Our collaborations are so natural, so organic. We’re comfortable with each other.

These two make me anything but.

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Author Nia FarrellAUTHOR BIO:

Nia Farrell has been writing for pleasure since junior high. Now that she writes about pleasure, she can share the fantasy worlds she visits and introduce readers to characters who remain with her long after their tales are told.

When crafting a story, Nia draws upon a rich diversity of life experiences, which include singer/songwriter, prize winning needle artist, private pilot, Reiki Master/Teacher, crystal healer, psychic fair reader, jewelry maker, physician’s assistant, factory worker, waitress, genealogist, period reenactor, and children’s author. If this life isn’t enough, there are plenty of others to choose from. Otherwise, she devotes hours of research to subjects outside her realm, determined that her stories ring true.

Nia lives on a farm in Southern Illinois (far, far from Chicago, in the heart of “Little Egypt”). A seventh generation Illinoisan, she is descended from Mayflower Pilgrims, American soldiers from the Revolutionary War to World War II, and Scottish nobility. She enjoys playing in the past and visits Ren fairs and historical reenactments in period attire, sharing her love of history and her passion for music. While her husband and two grown daughters may only read her nonfiction work, she appreciates their support in pursuing her dreams, one of which is being published in erotic romance.

Nia Farrell’s Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/?q=#/pages/Author-Nia-Farrell/1678898589004941?ref=bookmarks

Nia Farrell’s Tumblr page http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/

Nia Farrell’s Twitter page https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Amazon page http://www.amazon.com/Nia-Farrell/e/B014HAAWLK/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1441506277&sr=1-2-ent

Nia Farrell’s Author page at Dark Hollows Press http://www.darkhollowspress.com/#!nia-farrell/c1mop

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New Release – Girls Will Be Girls by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #lesbian #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

Girls Will Be GirlsBlurb:

Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection contains a variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: http://mybook.to/girlswillbegirls (universal Amazon link)

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26218151-girls-will-be-girls

*****

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Excerpt:

She was now mere inches away, but the thickness of the bushes meant she could still only see the boots and now a bit more of the green trousers. Stepping onto the mud, she crouched down beside the feet, carefully pushing the foliage aside so she could see what the hell was going on, and figure out what she was going to do about it.

The view opened up, and Verity, far from seeing a helpless person lying on the soil, was presented with a green-clad arse reversing hurriedly in her direction!

“Hey!” she said, letting go of the branches and shifting back so abruptly she ended up on her own arse on the grass. “Be careful! Are you all right?”

As the body continued emerging, Verity slowly came to realise her mistake. Dirt-covered trousers, a filthy black waterproof coat, gloved hands, and a head topped with a floppy hat were soon visible. Slim white cables trailing from each ear and disappearing into the collar of the coat explained why she hadn’t been heard calling out, or received a response.

This woman hadn’t hurt herself. She was a fucking gardener!

Frozen in her uncomfortable position, Verity wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Perhaps as revenge for her landing on it so hard. But she had no such luck. Instead, she heard, “What on earth are you doing down there? Are you all right?”

Struck dumb, Verity nodded and took the now glove-free hand that was offered to her, allowing the other woman to pull her up off the grass. “I—I’m fine,” she finally forced out, breaking the brief eye contact and making a show of brushing herself down, though it was probably only her bottom that was dirty. Her cheeks blazed, and she took a step back, hoping to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’m glad. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there.” The ear buds now hung down the woman’s front, and she was apparently poised, awaiting a reply.

Verity shook her head. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Narrowing her eyes, the gardener said, “Try me.”

Christ. Just to add insult to injury, it seemed she was now suspected of some kind of wrongdoing, too! “I—I was over there,” she pointed to where she’d come from, “and I saw your wellies poking out from the bushes. I panicked because I thought someone had fallen and hurt themselves. I came over to try and help. I did call out to you, to see if you were all right. But all I could see was the boots and a little bit of your trousers. I had no idea what was going on. Much less that you were the bloody gardener and remained oblivious to what I was up to because you had headphones in! I crouched down and pushed the bushes aside so I could see you better, and the next thing I know you’re shuffling back towards me. I shifted out of the way and ended up tumbling over on my bum.”

It seemed her story was too amusing to be anything but true, because the gardener grinned widely, then clapped a hand over her mouth momentarily. “I’m so sorry,” she then said, “I didn’t hear you, honestly. But I guess I can see why you thought that. Thank you so much for coming to check on me, but it really wasn’t necessary. All I was doing was fighting with a particularly vicious weed.” She pointed down to an uprooted plant at her feet, then widened her eyes. “Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Twisting to try and look at her bottom, Verity brushed again at the seat of her jeans. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit of muck and grass stains, I think. Nothing that won’t come out in the washing machine.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I feel bad enough as it is without thinking you’ve hurt yourself or ruined your clothes, too.”

“No, I’m good. And I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Then Verity took another step back. “Right, well, I’d better get going, anyway. Nice to meet you.” She turned to go, but the other woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, wait. No need to rush off. I’m just about to go on my tea break. Want to join me? Perhaps a brew will make up for it?” Her green eyes—apt, for a gardener, Verity thought—sparkled with humour and intelligence, and for the first time, Verity realised that, underneath the grubby gardening gear and large hat was a very attractive woman.

Still, an excuse was on the tip of her tongue—she had come here to be alone, after all—but fate intervened. Or the British weather did, anyway. A handful of fat raindrops fell onto her, followed by a few more. Then, the heavens truly opened.

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*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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