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Out Now—Winning the Campaign Manager by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #erotica #romance #gay

Blurb:

Politics has never been so sexy!

Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/WTCM

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/winning-the-campaign-manager-by-lucy-felthouse/

BookStrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/winning-the-campaign-manager-mm

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/733972?ref=cw1985

Other links will be added here when they become available: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/winning-the-campaign-manager/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35581577-winning-the-campaign-manager

*****

Excerpt:

“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled, fixing his long-time friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He slammed his hands down on his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and causing water to splash over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do such a thing?”

Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and frequent outbursts, didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk, she calmly stated, “You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager. And as for the why, I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a handful of tissues from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the liquid he’d spilled. “Seems like an unnecessary expense.”

With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you want to win this bloody election or not?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid question is that?”

“Well then, you need a campaign manager. The rest of the team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle that side of things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone with … expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image, make you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”

Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and dumping it in the wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She stood, the ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined and immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to get.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What’s wrong with my public image?”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing, Mary’s cool demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are you fucking serious?”

She may have used the deep breath and probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less, meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison with his huge frame and fiery personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly terrifying. Possibly the fact that she rarely got angry was what made it so potent when she did. Mary’s ire could turn even the thickest-skinned person into a blubbering wreck.

“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly, “come on, sit down. Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”

“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I don’t generally need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give your feedback, and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed her eyes. “But today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Raising his eyebrows at her increasing irritation, and wondering if there was something going on in her private life that was making her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”

A few seconds of silence passed, in which Mary again seemed to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said, “All right. But don’t forget; you asked for it.”

*****

Author Bio:

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), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 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 or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Oleander Plume Head-Hops with Horatio Slice: Guitar Slayer of the Universe

 

It’s my pleasure to welcome a writer who has never guested on A Hopeful Romantic before. I’m very pleased to  host Oleander Plume on her blog tour for her new novel, Horatio Slice: Guitar Slayer of the Universe. And best of all, an exclusive excerpt to whet your appetite.

 

Hello, readers!

First, I would like to thank the very lovely KD Grace for being a part of my book tour. I’m celebrating the release of my first full-length novel, Horatio Slice: Guitar Slayer of the Universe—a m/m sci-fi/fantasy erotic adventure. Did I mention it’s also chock full of sex? Because it is. Chock full. Brimming, even.

One of the best parts about putting this book together (Besides the sex!) was getting a chance to work with Jacob Louder. In case you don’t know Jake, he’s a writer, editor, graphic designer, and one half of the amazing indie publishing house, Go Deeper Press (the other half being his lovely wife, Lana Fox).

After reading the first draft of Horatio, Jake pointed out something that I hadn’t noticed on my own: I head-hopped between characters, sometimes every other sentence. A bad habit, for sure.

Jake suggested that I concentrate on one character’s point of view at a time, a task that sounded easy on paper, but proved difficult during the writing process. I had so much story to tell, switching between characters seemed to work for me, but I agreed with my editor that head-hopping was jarring and confusing to the reader.

In the end, we compromised. Since there are four main characters, I took turns telling the story through their unique perspective. Chapters one through three are written in Gunner’s voice. Chapter four is from Horatio’s point of view, and so on. This turned out to be, for me, a very enjoyable and unique writing experience.

I tend to write by feel, and while some chapters felt like they needed to be told by a specific character, others weren’t so clear. Some were written 2 or 3 times, until I found the right voice. I suppose this is one of the reasons why this book took two years to finish!

Horatio Slice: Guitar Slayer of the Universe is available now. Would you like to give it a read? Here’s the official blurb, written by Jacob Louder:

 

Horatio Slice is NOT dead.

Gunner Wilkes knows a secret. Heartthrob rock star Horatio Slice is not dead. Sure, Gunner may turn heads with his
big brain, good looks, and gym-built body, but his mind is on one thing only: returning his all-time favorite rocker and secret fanboy crush to Earth.

 

Yes, there are VAMPIRE PIRATES

Fame and stardom were starting to wear thin for Horatio Slice, but when he was sucked through a magical portal while on stage at Madison Square Garden into a jail cell in a strange dimension called Merona, his confusion quickly cleared upon meeting his sexy, dark-haired cellmate, a vampire pirate named Snake Vinter, who filled Horatio in about life in the universe, jumping from dimension to dimension, and craftily avoiding the wrath of gnarly-mask-wearing leather queen King Meridian—a guy nobody wants to cross.

 

The metal ship is named Frances.

And on Snake’s metal ship live eight identical blond Humerians, who proudly display their cocks and assholes in carefully crafted trousers, as well as a wild assortment of untamable, cock-hungry travelers and stowaways. But someone has hacked into Frances’ mainframe, demanding that Snake and crew deliver Horatio Slice to King Meridian, or feel his wrath.

All the zany magical comedy of Mel Brooks, an adventure not dissimilar to Indiana Jones meets Barbarella, and men, men, horny men, of all shapes and sizes, Horatio Slice, Guitar Slayer of the Universe is wild, fun, pornographic fiction for anyone who loves the masculine, the feminine, and all identities in between. Even more so, it’s for cravers—for aficionados—of big, hard, pounding cock, and anyone who can handle laughs that won’t stop coming.

 

 

Buy Horatio Slice Guitar Slayer of the Universe here:

Go Deeper Press: https://go-deeper-press.myshopify.com/products/horatio-slice-guitar-slayer-of-the-universe

 

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Horatio-Slice-Guitar-Slayer-Universe-ebook/dp/B0745TP99T/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1500816906&sr=8-2&keywords=horatio+slice 

 

Amazon print: https://www.amazon.com/Horatio-Slice-Guitar-Slayer-Universe-ebook/dp/B0745TP99T/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1500816906&sr=8-2&keywords=horatio+slice

 

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/horatio-slice-guitar-slayer-of-the-universe-oleander-plume/1126826862?ean=2940154669082

 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/horatio-slice-guitar-slayer-of-the-universe

 

Inktera: https://www.inktera.com/store/title/99011721-0238-43da-bd9c-38ab25838fc7

 

 

Horatio Slice Guitar Slayer of the Universe Excerpt:

Sugar sighed with boredom. His favorite gay bar, Vibrations, was packed to the rafters, and he’d already run out of virile specimens to flirt with.

Denny the bartender refilled his glass. “Doin’ okay, Sugs?”

Since Denny kept Sugar’s glass full, he was the only one allowed to call him “Sugs.” All others would be throat-punched forthwith. He replied, “I’m fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Which is exactly how you look tonight,” Denny said. “If your sweet ass needs a mustache ride, just give me a holler.”

Sugar hated Denny’s vintage porn-star style, but the man had a talented tongue. He contemplated whether a ride on Denny’s face was in order when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind.

“Hello, beautiful. Where have you been all my life?”

Without turning around, Sugar said, “Hiding from you.”

“A wise decision,” the stranger said, taking the seat next to Sugar.

After such an anemic pickup line, Sugar expected to be underwhelmed, but the man draped over the adjacent barstool made him swoon, and Sugar swooned for no one. Long and lean, his knee-length hair was a mass of raven tangles. A sparse goatee covered his upper lip and chin, framing a sexy mouth, but his eyes sealed the deal—polished steel, deep and sparkling with danger. One gloved finger ran over Sugar’s jawline while the silver eyes traveled to his jugular, a hint of fangs behind the pout.

“What do you want, vampire?” Sugar said.

“Just a taste. Then … more.” The creature took Sugar’s hand and brushed a kiss across his knuckles.

Sugar scowled, hoping to disguise the lustful shiver those lips caused. “I’m meeting someone. Fuck off.”

“Who are you meeting?”

“My boyfriend.” Sugar set his jaw. He knew this guy’s type backward and forward.

“Serious boyfriend?”

“Extremely.”

“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

“It’s not,” Sugar stammered.

“It is. I can hear your blood rushing through your veins. I’ll bet it’s sweeter than candy.”

“Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?” Sugar took a sip of his wine and glared at the seductive stranger. But he didn’t really want him to leave. Not yet, anyway.

 

About Oleander:

Oleander Plume lives in Chicago, Illinois, with her husband, two daughters and a pair of obnoxious cats. While she writes in many genres, her favorite is m/m. Or m/m/m. Or m/m/m/m, or … who’s counting, anyway?

Horatio Slice: Guitar Slayer of the Universe (published by Go Deeper Press) is Oleander’s first, full-length novel, but her short stories have appeared in anthologies by Violet Blue, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Shane Allison, Alison Tyler, Neil Plakcy, and F. Leonora Solomon.

Oleander also edited a self-published erotic anthology, titled Chemical [se]X, featuring stories centered around the theme of aphrodisiac chocolates.

For more information, please visit her at poisonpendirtymind.com

 

Find Oleander Here:

Blog: http://poisonpendirtymind.com

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Oleander-Plume/e/B00OALVFGS/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1500393524&sr=8-2

Go Deeper Press media page: http://godeeperpress.com/media-page-horatio-slice/

Go Deeper Press shopify: https://go-deeper-press.myshopify.com/products/horatio-slice-guitar-slayer-of-the-universe

Twitter: https://twitter.com/OleanderPlume

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

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/OleanderPlume/boards/

Horatio on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35558974-horatio-slice

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-56xGmu27g

 

Out Now—On Her High Horse by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #romance #medical #cougar

On Her High HorseBlurb:

Do first impressions always last?

When veterinarian Brett Coulson and stable owner Samantha Hanson-Bishop meet, it’s hate at first sight. He thinks she’s a snobby, stuck-up bitch who wouldn’t know nice if it bit her on the backside. She thinks he’s a blundering, inexperienced little boy who shouldn’t be within fifty miles of her prized horses. But it doesn’t matter much—they’ll never have to see each other again. Or will they?

When fate throws them into the same room together at a charity fundraiser, the resentment between them quickly resurfaces. But mixed in with that resentment is something they both tried to deny… attraction. Will the chemistry between them cancel out the animosity, or were their first impressions just too powerful to change?

Note: On Her High Horse was previously published in the Coming in Hot Boxed Set.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/OHHH

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2ucGHKX

iBooks UK: http://apple.co/2uUJia9

iBooks US: http://apple.co/2ucLsV4

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2uUs5xx

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2uUTWgW

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35609026-on-her-high-horse

*****

Excerpt:

There was a knock at the door. Brett looked up from where he was transferring hand-written notes onto the practice’s computer system—he hadn’t yet gotten comfortable with taking the iPad out on calls. He was paranoid he’d drop it in a cow pat, or worse. “Yes, come in!”

One of the veterinary surgery’s receptionists—an efficient blonde called Natasha—sidled in, a wry expression on her face. “Hi, Brett. I’m really sorry to bother you, but there’s a woman on the phone, and she’s being, um, rather rude.”

Frowning, Brett replied, “Who is it? And why is she being rude?”

Natasha blew out a breath and shrugged. “She won’t tell me what the issue is. Won’t even tell me what animal she has. She just keeps saying she’ll only speak to a ‘trained professional.’ I don’t know who it is, either. All I know is her first name is—”

“Samantha?” Brett supplied, his shoulders slumping and eyebrows raising.

“Uh, yeah. How did you know? Oh God, I haven’t gone and insulted one of your friends or something, have I? I didn’t mean to, honestly. It’s just she’s being a bit difficult…”

“Natasha, don’t panic. She’s no friend of mine. I’ve never even met the woman. Besides, if she was one of my friends, I’d be giving her a bollocking for being rude to one of my staff, wouldn’t I? Anyway, if it’s the Samantha I think it is, then she’s being very difficult, and you’re being overly polite. Andrew warned me about her.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Bloody typical that she’d phone while he’s away. The man barely ever takes a holiday, and now he finally has, his most awkward client is on the blower. He damn well owes me one after this.”

“If she’s a regular client, how come I’ve never spoken to her before?”

Shrugging, Brett replied, “Dunno. Maybe she’s got Andrew’s mobile number or something?”

Natasha gasped. “But he never gives out his mobile number to clients. He’s very strict about that—always asks us to take a message and if it’s urgent, pass it on to him directly.”

“Yeah…” Brett scratched his head. “He didn’t say much about her, beyond that she can be difficult. Honestly, I was a bit distracted when he mentioned it so I wasn’t paying a great deal of attention. I wish I’d asked more questions now, but I never thought I’d have the misfortune of having to deal with her.”

“You haven’t, yet.” Natasha raised her eyebrows and jerked her chin towards the phone on his desk.

“Good point.” He gave a wan smile. “Suppose I’d better find out what she wants, hadn’t I? If she’s special enough to have Andrew’s precious mobile phone number, then I ought to keep her sweet.”

“Probably wise.” Natasha left the room, closing the door behind her, but not before Brett spotted the slight smile on her face. Relieved to pass on the bitchy customer to him, no doubt.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone. “Hello, Brett Coulson speaking. How can I help?”

“Oh,” came the reply, “Brett. Ah, yes. You’re the other vet, aren’t you? Jolly good. Know what you’re talking about, do you?” The woman’s accent was posh, southern. Like she’d been to a finishing school or something.

Gritting his teeth, Brett then pasted a smile on his face, hoping it would be apparent in his tone, despite the daggers he was actually staring at her through the handset. “Yes, I most certainly do.” Should fucking do, after five years of training and the same again working in the profession. I’m not on bloody work experience here.

“But you sound so young.”

Glad she couldn’t see him, Brett rolled his eyes. Her problem obviously wasn’t an emergency, the way she was waffling on, time-wasting. “I’m almost twenty-nine, Mrs…”

“It’s Ms, actually. Samantha Hanson-Bishop here. So you’re still a baby then.”

“Is there something I can help you with, Ms Hanson-Bishop? Only I’ve a call to go out on in a few minutes.” He couldn’t help the emphasis he’d put on the Ms. It could be construed as sarcastic, but it was still a damn sight more polite than anything he really wanted to say. Would she just get to the point already?

“Yes, yes, of course. That’s why I’m telephoning. I just wanted to make sure I was speaking to someone who actually knew what they were talking about. Clearly your receptionist doesn’t know anything about animals, much less my thoroughbred horses.”

Ah, okay, that made things clearer. The stuck-up, posh bird ran a stable. Now the haughty attitude made sense—she was entitled, bored, and thought she was better than everyone else. Wanting to defend Natasha—who was, in fact, very knowledgeable about animals, it being part of her job and all—Brett had to bite his tongue. If the woman, however snobby and irritating, ran a stable of thoroughbreds, then she was no doubt bringing plenty of money into the practice. They were doing okay, but the loss of a big customer without a replacement wasn’t something they’d be able to sustain for very long. And word of mouth was very important in this game—he didn’t want her bad-mouthing him or the surgery.

*****

Author Bio:

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), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 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 or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

 

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Out Now—Get Off Easy by Sara Brookes (@sara_brookes) #sarabrookes #noblehouse #carinapress #bdsm #menage #newrelease

Get Off EasyBlurb

At Noble House, fantasy has no limits. Log on and enter a world of your most secret desires. And remember, there is nothing more noble than the pursuit of passion…

I shouldn’t be watching, but I can’t look away.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Ford “Saint” Templar or Boyce Denali in person—although the gorgeous men have haunted too many of my fantasies to count. But now they’re here, right on my screen. Together. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

And I want in.

Noble House is the kingdom of geek kink, where the thrill comes from knowing that someone is always watching. All I have to do is be brave enough to turn off the screen, walk through the door and ask Saint and Boyce to take me back.

We used to be so good together, but we’re different people now. Will Saint’s commands still bring me to my knees with desire? Will the anticipation of Boyce’s touch still drive me wild? Will I be able to survive the pleasure of having them both?

It’s time to stop watching. I need this. I need them. And just maybe, they need me, too.

Buy links:

Carina Press: http://www.carinapress.com/shop/books/9781488030703_get-off-easy.html

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2reL2vW

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2qrz9S8

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/get-off-easy-sara-brookes/1120980430?ean=9781488030703

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/get-off-easy-3

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/get-off-easy/id1227445208?mt=11

Google: https://books.google.com/books?id=bsauDgAAQBAJ&dq

*****

Excerpt

Darkness surrounded Grae. In her life. In her mind. And even in her office as she leaned back in her overstuffed, overpriced chair and yawned. The creature comforts weren’t enough to keep her interested in the image flickering on her computer screen. Not that well-chiseled abs didn’t do it for her. They totally did. But considering the fact she’d been the one to draw, define, and enhance each one of those tongue-licking indentions, the final product had lost its appeal hours ago.

As long as the female audience members went wild, she would keep plodding along. Not to mention, if she didn’t deliver, she wouldn’t be paid her hard-earned check. As tempting as it was to continue, she desperately needed a break.

A quick glance at her trusty desktop clock showed she hadn’t stopped for over thirty-six hours. Since she was on a deadline, her director’s schedule won out over sleep and basic hygiene. Especially because she was under contract. If she wanted another shot at working with this director, she needed to have this guy’s abs painted on and swoon-worthy in the next three hours.

One hell of a reward awaited her after she completed her work, too.

As she made her way to the kitchen to refill her carafe, she tapped the reminder postcard that arrived two days ago against her chin. Fresh coffee would get her through. At least it had to. She’d worked under tighter deadlines, and on less sleep, than this project.

Thirty-six hours with no sleep was kid’s stuff.

Her reward, however, was not child appropriate.

No way. No how.

Kochran Duke was throwing one of his famous parties tonight. The events, where participation was allowed by members both at the club and online, were not low-key and always the highlight of the month. It also meant there was a distinct possibility Saint and Boyce would attend. They never missed a party at the converted armory. No telling what they’d be doing, though.

It was always a surprise when it came to those two.

She shoved a fresh filter into the brew basket, dumped in beans and water, and realized she didn’t care. They could sit and read nursery rhymes to one another, and she’d still get off. Wasn’t as though she’d joined Kochran’s exclusive website only to watch the pretty boys play with their toys.

Okay, well, it wasn’t the only reason.

There was a touch of practicality to why she chose to spend her night watching porn.

And it had nothing to do with satisfying her voyeuristic tendencies.

Her former Master recommended the online dungeon when it became obvious she had all the desire and drive to submit, but none of the time. Noble House offered several levels of membership depending on participation or observation. The fees were steep, but it was a small price to pay for satisfying a guilty indulgence from the privacy of her home office.

Once she’d discovered two of her closest friends from college were Dominants at Noble House, her interest in the private club increased tenfold. Thanks to alumni updates from the university, she’d known they’d continued to date after they graduated. Even knew where they lived because of an article published six months ago in the yearly alumni newsletter about the building they’d saved from the wrecking ball and turned into an apartment complex. Knowing they were still together, and trying to change the world, warmed her heart.

And a few other strategic lady bits.

Someday she would visit Noble House. Though the idea of taking a vacation long enough to visit Northern California sounded absurd. With the constant trail of work following her wherever she went, taking a break was unheard of. Visiting friends she hadn’t seen in more than a decade was even more ludicrous. As was confessing she’d seen every one of their broadcasted scenes since she’d become a member.

And hunted through the archives.

Several times over.

The coffeepot chimed. She dumped the contents into the carafe, then grabbed the French vanilla creamer. As she made her way back to her spacious office, her eyes slowly adjusted to the permanent darkness she’d created thanks to heavy light-blocking blinds. Day or night, the lighting in the room never changed. When she’d decided to leave the guaranteed contract with the big-budget movie studio behind and become a freelancer, she’d invested in all the bells and whistles. No sense working from home without the proper equipment.

Six monitors wasn’t too much, right?

A quick check of the emails she’d been ignoring for the past few hours indicated the director was getting aggravated. Time to buckle down and turn out this masterpiece. Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, Grae leaned back to watch the fight sequence she’d been working on for the past week. She noted a few minor inconsistencies she could smooth over while she waited to see if she had approval. No need to waste her time if the director wanted to ditch the segment.

Task completed, she zipped the file, then dropped it onto her secure server. An email containing the link to the director was next and meant her part was complete. She flipped a switch to change over to her personal computer tower and waited for it to boot. When it finally beeped in greeting, she directed the browser window to Noble House’s main site. A few keystrokes, and the splash page for tonight’s event flashed onto the huge screen she’d mounted on the wall.

Two very familiar faces stared back at her.

Boyce Denali, the one on the left, wore heavy-duty leathers. Too bulky for working inside the club. These were the kind used for protection should he take a spill. Though she doubted he would ever be so careless. Boyce was the kind of man the pavement moved for. Dark blond, piercing blues, muscles to die for, and a chiseled bone structure even the most formidable Viking would find intimidating.

Ford Templar, on the other hand, was all dark and mysterious. Nicknamed Saint at the club, Ford was broody. Sulky. Dark hair. Olive skin. Lean muscles. The dark to Boyce’s light. Except his eyes. Those eyes. Eerily colored, they reminded her of glass Coke bottles. Rumor had it his gaze could pierce right through to someone’s soul. While Boyce held a commanding air that demanded to be heard, Saint wore his power subtly but was still all dominant authority.

Seemingly connected at the hip, the two men scened together every week. Much to her delight. Grae didn’t think she’d ever seen them work with a submissive alone. Not that the choice to only carry out ménage scenes affected their standing at the club. Not in the least. Every time they worked together, their scenes had been nothing short of spectacular.

“Let’s see what you’re up to tonight, boys.”

*****

Author bio:

Sara Brookes has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this geekiness, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story.

Links:

Website: http://sarabrookes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/sara_brookes

Facebook: http://facebook.com/brookesofbooks

New release announcement list: http://eepurl.com/mbG31

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Beverley Oakley: The Duchess and the Highwayman Tour and Giveaway

 

 

 

GEVEAWAY: 

Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and an ebook The Mysterious Governess.to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

 

BLURB:

 

A duchess disguised as a lady’s maid; a gentleman parading as a highwayman.

She’s on the run from a murderer, he’s in pursuit of one…

 

In a remote Norfolk manor, Phoebe, Lady Cavanaugh is wrongfully accused by her servants of her brutal husband’s murder.

 

There’s little sympathy in the district for the duchess who’s taken a lover and made clear she despised her husband. The local magistrate has also vowed revenge since Lady Cavanaugh rebuffed his advances.

 

When Phoebe is discovered in the forest wearing only a chemise stained with the blood of her murdered husband, she persuades the noble ‘highwayman’ who rescues her that she is Lady Cavanaugh’s maidservant.

Hugh Redding has his own reasons for hunting down the man who would have Phoebe tried and hanged for murder. He plans to turn ‘the maidservant with aspirations above her station’ into the ‘lady’ who might testify against the very villain who would see Phoebe dead.

 

But despite the fierce attraction between Phoebe and the ‘highwayman’, Phoebe is not in a position to admit she’s the ‘murderous duchess’ hunted across the land.

 

Seizing an opportunity to strike at the social and financial standing of the man who has profited by her distress, Phoebe is drawn into a dangerous intrigue.

 

But when disaster strikes, she fears Hugh will lack the sympathy or understanding of her unusual predicament to even want to save her a second time.

 

Buy Links:

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Excerpt:

 

He’d wanted to quiz Phoebe in greater detail but she was clearly shocked by the ordeal and besides, there’d not been the privacy he required.

As he lowered himself into the little wooden chair that was surely too spindly to support a man of the miller’s girth, he mused upon relations between Phoebe and Wentworth. Had he even noticed his lover’s maid? Wentworth was a man who took advantage where he could so Hugh would have to ask the question. Yet several men with whom he’d shared an ale at the local tavern had suggested the local lady of the manor and her lover had eyes only for one another. The Blinley Manor servants said Wentworth was renowned for incarcerating himself in his lover’s salon for days at a time, an observation that suggested he had little interest in the underlings of his household.

Hugh pushed open the casement window and stared at the starry sky above. Far in the distance he could see Blinley Manor, a single twinkling light burning in the distance. He felt foolish now, imagining he could have forced Wentworth out of his carriage at pistol point in order to gain the satisfaction he needed. The truth was that red hot fury had fuelled his wild ride to this part of the world the moment Ada had reluctantly given her brother the name he’d hounded her to reveal.

But with Phoebe as his new ally, a far more sophisticated and effective plan was going to win the day. One that would ensure justice for Hugh’s sister without Hugh having to dirty his hands.

A sound in the bushes below caught his ear. Instantly he was on the alert, tensing as he withdrew his head and snuffed out the candle while he peered into the darkness.

With a murder having recently occurred up at the manor and Wentworth no doubt on the run, who knew what characters were about? Quietly, Hugh slipped into the corridor and exited through the scullery and into the kitchen garden. He allowed himself a moment to get used to the darkness before moving silently around the ivy clad walls, glad of his dark clothing. When he reached the casement of the front parlour he rested the back of his head against the panes and strained his eyes for a sign of movement in the bushes the bordered the grounds. But only the soft sighing of the breeze through the leaves emitted any sound. He moved forward to begin an investigation deeper into the garden when the muted splash of water within reminded him that just inside, Phoebe was having her bath.

He turned, and felt a jolt of shock and something he was immediately unable to identify as through the diamond-paned windows he took in the startlingly erotic sight of a young woman with slender, milky limbs and long ripples of golden-brown hair standing in a bath rub, reaching down to soap her thighs. Her face was no longer streaked with mud and as she raised her chin Hugh felt guilt and fascination in equal measure; topped with a large degree of astonishment. The girl was a beauty.

He turned away, uncomfortably conscious that his hatred of Wentworth stemmed from that man’s disregard for the dignity of a woman. Hugh did not want to be compared. But as he took a step back towards the house he felt softness beneath his feet and then the startled shriek of Mrs Within’s deaf and blind cat which flew at him with bared claws.

His last glimpse before he hurried back into the safety of indoors was confirmation that Phoebe’s body was indeed goddess-like perfection, her waist tiny, her breasts full and tipped with two tiny pink rosebud nipples. Trying not to deny the effect of such a sight, he closed the door to the outside behind him and took the stairs, two at a time, to his room.

 

 

About Beverley:

 

Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.

Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.

 

 

You can get in contact with Beverley at:

website | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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