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A Sneak Preview of To Rome with Lust, Book 3 in The Mount Series

To Rome with LustYIPPEEE! I just finished the first draft of To Rome with Lust, the third book in The Mount Series, which will be out late this autumn. I’ve had so much fun romping and sniffing with Liza and Paulo that I thought I’d share a bit of the fun with you. Here is a sneak preview of the sizzling fun.

Blurb To Rome with Lust:

Book three of The Mount trilogy (Click here for The Initiation of Ms Holly Book One |and Fulfilling the Contract Book Two)

The adventure that began with Rita Holly in London, then moved to Las Vegas with Nick Chase continues in Rome when a chance encounter among the Roman ruins has tourist, Liza Calendar, and perfumer, Paulo ‘The Nose’ Delacour, in sexy olfactory heaven. Paulo is the heir apparent of Martelli Fragrance, a roll Rita Holly abdicated to lead the Mount in London. With her magnificently sensitive nose leading the way, Liza uncovers Martelli’s hidden secret –it’s the front for the original Mount, an international secret society with sexual rites into which Paulo is more than willing to initiate her.

Excerpt: 

At first Liza thought she had only dreamed such an exquisite scent. She’d certainly never smelled anything so sexy while she was awake. Strange, though because her dreams had always been the only part of her life that was olfactory-free. She sat in the business lounge at LaGuardia, dozing, blocking out the noise and the smell of the busy shuffle. But this smell, was different. This smell was just too delicious to ignore. It intensified, then faded, and she snuffled and inhaled and shifted in her seat.

The place was packed with passengers awaiting a spate of flights going out at nearly the same time. She was there way early, thanks to Carl. But after a miserable night alone in a hotel room, she had no reason to hang around – not after what she’d seen … and smelled. She didn’t want to think about Carl. The fog around her thickened and she drowsed.

She had just slipped back into that space between wakefulness and sleep when the scent wafted over her again. There was no denying it was the primal smell of male. It was the smell of desert lightening, of sage and juniper and thick, dark night. It was the smell of sex – or at least the intimation of sex or what sex might be like with this man.

Jesus, was she really going to have sexy dreams right here in the airport? What next? Would she be rubbing herself against the sofa while all the businessmen and the tourist pretended not to notice? Surely it must have to do with the sex she’d expected to have last night, but didn’t get. Surely it was just her angry unconscious inventing an olfactory fantasy, but God, the man smelled good – better than anyone she’d ever smelled, and she smelled everyone! She inhaled again and her deep intake of scent came out sounding like a sigh. Her lips parted just enough to take in the fullness of the experience, like a cat making an effort to taste that hypnotic smell of masculinity. Her nipples chafed and hardened against her bra until they dominated the front of her sweater with an achy tetchy fullness that matched the tightening she felt between her thighs. It was as though the man stood right over her. She could smell expensive fabric weighted and warmed with the heat of his flesh, his crotch so close made her mouth water. The scent was heavy, thickening, male — driven by passion, and it was so close she could taste it.

The view from the offices of Martelli Fragrance
The view from the offices of Martelli Fragrance

To Liza the scent was like a magnate and, in the dreamy state in which she floated, she shifted, she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to draw him to her, wanting nothing so much as to touch, to caress, to experiment on ways to arouse from her dream man more of that delicious scent, ways to bring the smell of his maleness, his arousal to the forefront, next to her breath, next to her mouth.

There was a soft grunt, a startled gasp, and a large hand came down heavily on her shoulder. A desperate clearing of a throat and a slightly accented ‘Pardon me.’

She opened her eyes and found herself nose to crotch with a very expensive suit not quite able to disguise a very nice package. Her fingers were fisted in the edges of the front pockets of his trousers, reeling their wearer ever closer and closer to her salivating mouth. She yelped and practically shoved the guy, who might have fallen if not for the hand resting on her shoulder. ‘Oh my god! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I was dreaming.’ Her face burning and her heart doing a drumroll in her ears, she raised her eyes up and up and up the length of the well-filled out charcoal suit to meet rich caramel eyes looking down at her from beneath thick midnight lashes. Damn it, if she were going to make a fool of herself, she was going to have the courage to apologise eye to eye. But wow! The scent hit her in waves, making her giddy, making her want to sniff like a dog in heat, making her feel wrong-footed and out of focus.

‘Must have been some dream.’ His eyes sparkled and he offered her a half-smile. His warm hands fell to cover hers and disengage them from his pockets. ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I woke you,’ but I’d really hate it if your dream got us both kicked out of the lounge.’ His thumbs brushed over the backs of her knuckles before he released her. ‘Is it all right if I share you sofa? The lounge is quite crowded.’

‘Yes! Of course, please.’ She shifted and rearranged herself, resisting the urge to fold her arms across her perky nipples. Even harder was resisting the urge to pant and sniff. My God, how can anyone smell so good? If an aphrodisiac could be inhaled, his scent would so be that aphrodisiac. She felt moist and swollen against the crotch of her panties, too tender for the weight of her body against to sofa.

‘Are you all right?’ The man’s eyes had darkened with concern. ‘You seem in distress.’

‘Fine! I’m fine,’ she said with enthusiasm that made her sound like a dork. ‘Just outrageously embarrassed.’

‘Don’t be. You made my morning, and gave me something I’ll smile about for what will be a very long, very tedious flight. You sure you’re alright?’

‘You smell amazing,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, then felt the heat rise to her cheeks again. Jeez! Could she sound any more stupid?

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. ‘Thanks. Ode d’ generic hotel soap and shampoo,’ he said.

‘No, it’s not the soap or shampoo, I mean I can smell that too, but …’ What the fuck was it with her? She practically attacked the guy, who handled an embarrassing situation very graciously, all things considered, and now she informed him she’d been sniffing? ‘Never mind. I … like I said, I was dreaming.’

He leaned forward in a wave of scent that made her dizzy with lust. ‘No, please, don’t be embarrassed. I’m very interested in all things olfactory. And I’m very flattered that you like the way I smell.’

‘I’m sorry. I have a sensitive nose.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I guess maybe I’m a little closer to my primate roots than most people. I … I pick up on scent … way more than most people do. Bit of an evolutionary throw-back, I’m afraid.’

The Villa d'Este in Tivoli, after which The Mount's Villa is patterned.
The Villa d’Este in Tivoli, after which The Mount’s Villa is patterned.

His smile was practically edible. ‘Humans are mammals. Mammals live through their sense of smell. Humans have just gotten lazy and forgotten how to do that. Real scent is hard to come by in a world that’s been deodorized, sanitized and scrubbed. Apparently you remember.’

Oh, she remembered all right. She remembered so much more than she wished she did at times. She could feel his dark, rich gaze against her, feel his scent baring down on her, now spiked with the cinnamon nip of curiosity.

‘So,’ he leaned still closer and everything in her suddenly felt tetchy and humid. ‘Tell me what you smell?’

God, she knew he was going to ask that. She should have kept her damned mouth shut. To ask her to describe his scent was like asking her to describe what she thought sex with him would be like, and with a scent like his, she could imagine it would be pretty fucking amazing. On the other hand, if he stayed leaning close like this, she’d have a few more seconds to sniff and enjoy before he suspected her of total nutterdom.

‘Don’t be embarrassed,’ he said. ‘As I said, the sense of smell and the way we humans use it is of special interest to me.’

She leaned in and inhaled deeply through her nose. After all he had given her permission to sniff. ‘You smell like a summer lightening storm … at high altitude. She inhaled again and closed her eyes, hearing the catch of his breath. ‘Beneath that, you smell like evergreen and the earth around tree roots.’ His breathing accelerated. She could hear it. She leaned still closer, and the slip and slide of fabric on fabric informed her that he’d done the same until they were nearly touching. She inhaled again. ‘You smell like cat fur in the sun, like a rainstorm on the wind just before it arrives, but that only a little bit, that a distant undertone, that’s because you’re skeptical, and I don’t blame you.’

It became a competition to see who could breathe the hardest. Down below her belly muscles trembled and tensed; in her panties, the clench and release, clench and release had left her swollen and pouty. She opened her eyes just a slit, and there was no mistaking the shape of his growing erection. Her own scent spiked all honey and butter and nutmeg.

‘What else?’ he breathed. ‘Is there more?’

‘Your curiosity smells of cinnamon and there’s a bit of irritation, tart, tangy, almost like lemon.’ Her eyes fluttered open at the same moment his did.

‘Oh it’s not you,’ he said quickly. ‘I mean I’m not irritated at you. It’s the trip. I didn’t plan to take it and now I find out … wait a minute. You can smell emotions?’

‘Kind of,’ she said, trying not to look at his erection, as he shifted to rearrange himself a little less conspicuously. Then she couldn’t resist. ‘What about me? Can you smell me?’ Jesus! Why did she ask such a loaded question?

He squirmed again, which did nothing to hide his needy package. A blush rose to his cheeks. ‘Maybe … Possibly.’ He inhaled a shaky breath through his nose like he was afraid of what he might smell. ‘The more we talk … the more I smell.’ His eyes fluttered shut again. ‘You’re … not wearing perfume.’

‘I never do.’ She eased herself closer, resisting the urge to rest a hand on his thigh. ‘It interferes with other smells.’

He nodded, as though he completely understood. ‘You smell like the sea, but you smell like honey and butter melting over hot bread.’

Did she just whimper? Oh god, please say she didn’t just whimper and shift her bottom against the sofa.

This time he inhaled deeply, boldly, pushing forward on the sofa, his eyes closed, suddenly making no attempt to cover the heavy strain against the front of his trousers, and the cinnamon scent of him spiked and became more peppery. ‘Jesus, I can’t believe we’re doing this?’ His voice was little more than a whisper between parted lips, lips that Liza would only have to lean into to touch with her own. ‘I can’t believe I can smell all that. I’m probably imagining it.’

‘No you’re not. You’re not imagining it,’ she whispered back.

He was suddenly breathing as though he’d just ran a marathon, each breath through his nose, each breath followed by a gulp, almost as though he were eating the scent of her.

The Temple of Hercules in Ostia Antica where Paulo and Liza do a little research.
The Temple of Hercules in Ostia Antica where Paulo and Liza do a little research.

‘People are looking. We should stop.’ She barely got the words out before he leaned in just a tiny bit further and, in his enthusiasm, his lips brushed hers. Everything spiked in a sharp stab of scent that went straight to her pussy, as they both gasped and sat back, eyes wide, fingers pressed to lips. A flight to Paris was called over the intercom immediately after one to Frankfurt and, in the jostling and shifting and gathering of belongings, no one was paying any attention to them. Though she wasn’t sure it would have made any difference even if they’d suddenly been center stage. Their gaze locked on each other, cheeks flushed, chests heaving, they sat locked in a moment so tight, so full that its breaking apart was inevitable. It was ridiculous. She was seconds away from coming, and his cock was about to burst his trousers and his lips, my god his lips, she could think of so many places on her body she wanted those lips.

‘I have to know,’ he gasped. ‘Surely you want to know too.’ Then he did the unthinkable. He curled his fingers into the back of her hair and pulled her to him. This time their lips met with a clash of teeth and a gasped swallow of oxygen that transitioned into parted lips and darting tongues and an absolute explosion of scent. If he had smelled amazing by himself, if his scent had sharpened hers to the cutting edge of orgasm, then the mixing and blending that happened when they touched, when those two scents came together was shattering. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like it,’ she breathed into his mouth.

‘Me neither,’ He bit her lower lip and tugged and their blended smell became darker, more spicy, tones of earth and sea, pepper and honey and my god the guy could kiss!

Sallyanne Rogers Accepts THE ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!

SallyAnne Rogers“If anyone can write an erotic novel about Morris dancers and make it sexy, it’ll be me.” I said it more than once, not really meaning it the first few times, but it took on a life of its own, and people began to take me a little more seriously than I had thought they might.

After all, I am probably the only person – though if there’s more of you out there, do get in touch – who is both erotic writer and Morris dancer. Really, it had to be done and, more than that, I really wanted to do it.

Blah blah beer guts, blah blah beards, blah blah old men… the lazy stereotypes around Morris dancing annoy me anyway. There are actually loads of dancers under 30 these days, male and female, and while not everyone can be super-model beautiful, there are plenty of fit bodies and sexy movers to admire should you stop by a local folk festival. There are quite a few contemporary takes on the whole business, as well. When I first started dancing, I belonged to the Prince Albert Morris, a team who mixed folk traditions with BDSM and fetish regalia and appeared on TV several times during the late 1990s: nowadays there’s a Steampunk Morris side who dance to classic rock tunes, and the traffic-stopping Belles of London City in their corsets and petticoats, among others.

Of course, there’s a certain amount of tension – and there always has been – between traditionalists and modernizers. That gave me something to use as a source of the conflict that would drive the plot of Spring In My Step. If my hero and heroine were attracted to each other but on opposing sides of the What Morris Dancing Should Be Like debate, they would have to work out a way of reconciling their differences to get to their happy ending. I did draw on a variety of things that happened to me during my time with Prince Albert, particularly the fact that we were originally put together at the request of a TV company. Adding a camera crew who were making a documentary to my story was the factor that made everything fall neatly into place.

I don’t know if Spring In My Step will encourage more people to take up Morris dancing in the hope of finding a sexy dancing partner of their own, but it would be quite cool if that happened.

 

Spring in My Step Blurb:

When Cath meets Robbie for the first time, she decides to hold back on telling him she’s a Morris dancer who’s about to be featured in a TV programme about contemporary British culture. She’s not expecting more than a one-night stand in the first place, so there’s no need to complicate things. However, what started out as a bit of fun looks like it could turn into something more, as the two of them find their mutual attraction too strong to resist.The documentary crew are on the hunt for juicy controversies in the run up to the May Day festival at Waterleigh Bridge, and it seems that Robbie has a secret of his own. If he and Cath find out the truth about one another, will it bring them closer or tear them apart?

Buy Spring in My Step Here:

Xcite Books

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

The Morris Shop

About Sallyanne:

Sallyanne Rogers has written articles for adult magazines including Forum in the past, and has previously worked on market stalls selling vintage clothes and magazines. This inspired her first novella for Xcite, Midwinter Heat. She has also been a morris dancer for about 15 years.

Her website is http://sallyannerogers0112.wordpress.com and she is on Twitter @dswsallyanne and on Facebook as Sallyanne Rogers (there is more than one person by that name, though)

 

 

 

The Pet Shop is FREE on Amazon!

The Pet Shop prelimI’m very pleased to announce that, for a limited time only, my kinky, BDSM-ish erotic romance, The Pet Shop, is FREE on Amazon in the US and in the UK. And really, it’s that time of year for a sizzling summer read. The Pet Shop is a full-length erotic novel, which makes it a great summer read to take on holiday. My naughty Pets promise a raunchy, rollicking romp. What they DON’T promise is to behave. I’m all about temptation and titillation, so here’s a little tidbit to tempt and titillate.

The Pet Shop:

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

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

Excerpt:

Still holding her gaze, he stood and led her back to the lounge. When she sat in the recliner, he sat on the floor in front of her, watching her expectantly, shifting uncomfortably around the weight of his distended penis, clenching his buttocks and rocking his hips. She couldn’t take her eyes off such blatant, insinuating sexuality. With a little gasp of surprise, she realized her own hips were rocking, rubbing her swollen cunt against the chair.

‘I’m sorry, Tino,’ she shoved to her feet, tearing her gaze away from the gorgeously horny man sitting on the floor by her chair. ‘But I just can’t do this. If I had known what Anne, what Strigida had planned for me, I would have never consented, surely Anne knew that. Anyway, I feel really bad that I’ve wasted your time, but this is just not something I can do.’

The pet only looked up at her with adoring and expectant eyes.

“I’ll gladly give you taxi fare home, of course. I mean that’s the least I can do. None of this is your fault, after all. Anne told me that you were a gift, so I assume you’ve already been paid.’ She raced through the last sentence breathlessly, her face burning at the very thought that the company had paid for a prostitute for her.

Did they really think she was that desperate? And never mind how desperate she was, surely she had worked at Strigida long enough for them to realize this was not the gift for her. And she was bloody well certain Anne knew that. There would definitely be words when she returned from Bath. ‘Is that alright, if we do that? If we just call it even and I get you a cab home?’

Tino made no response. Instead, he rubbed his cheek affectionately against her leg and moved to sit back on his haunches, a position that made his erection look even more enormous, bulging heavily against his thigh. At the sight, her tummy did a flip-flop and her pussy clenched and half convulsed.

‘I forgot,’ she looked down at the manual still gripped in one hand, ‘Pet’s don’t talk. But since I really don’t want a Pet, couldn’t you break the rules just this once?’

He brushed her leg again with his cheek, then with his lips, making delicious shivers run up her spine.

‘Guess not. Okay. Well, I realize this is an awkward situation, Tino, and I’m really sorry about that. I know you’re expected to stay here. I appreciate your position. Really I do. I’m sure we’ll get through this if we work together.’ She nodded down the hall. ‘I have a guestroom. You’re welcome to sleep there. It’s small, but comfortable.’ He followed her on silent feet, and looked on as she showed him the guestroom.

‘The closet’s there.’ She pointed. ‘Though I guess you won’t need that. Extra toiletries are on the dressing table there. Those you might need. And the remote for the telly, well it’s a little tetchy. Here let me show you.’ Suddenly she realized he wasn’t paying any attention. His gaze was locked on her – more specifically on her crotch. She blushed hard and forced a smile. ‘Never mind. I imagine you can figure it out if you decide you want to watch telly. Anyway, make yourself at home. Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink?’

Again, he plopped down on the floor. This time he wrapped his arms around her leg and began to rub his cheek against her thigh.

‘Tino, really. I don’t think I can…’

He made little grunting sounds and shifted his hips forward and back. If anything, his erection seemed still bigger. She suddenly remembered the manual said the Pet Shop kept their Pets horny. Hadn’t Anne said he usually didn’t have to wait this long before he came?

She found herself blushing again at the sight of his heavy hard-on. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how … uncomfortable you must be. I know you’re not allowed to touch yourself unless your keeper gives you permission, and, well, since we can’t, since we’re not going to…’ She nodded to his cock. ‘It’s alright with me if you do what you need to do. You know, for some relief.’ She felt like her face would burst into flames.

For a long moment he looked up at her with his bottomless cinnamon eyes, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend what she wanted of him. Then, slowly, carefully, holding her gaze, he laid a hand against his cock and ran a curled palm up the length of it. A shudder ascended his spine. He threw back his head and released a trembling breath that ended in a deep animal groan at the back of his throat.

Almost before she realized it, she replied with a little whimper of her own that slipped between her lips. Her nipples pearled through the thin silk of her blouse, and her pussy felt slick and giddy. She closed her eyes only for a split second, but the next thing she knew, Tino was standing beside her, so close that her hand, resting low against her belly brushed his cock, and they both gasped at the feel of it. Before she could do more than marvel at the velvety softness that felt like it sheathed granite, he pushed in closer, and his large hand engulfed hers easing it gently against his cock with just enough pressure to encourage her fingers to wrap around the girth of him.

She should have stepped back, she should have commanded him to stay in the room and do what he needed to do and not come out until he was done. But she didn’t. Instead she curled her fingers around him and felt his hand tighten over hers. She expected him to hump like a dog, but he only stepped closer, engulfing her in a feral scent not unlike cat fur on a sunny day.

The shifting of his hips was almost invisible but for the tensing of the muscles low in his hard belly, tightening and lifting until his soft pubic curls just grazed the inside of her wrist. Instead of the blatant sexuality she expected, he simply laid his head on her shoulder, his warm breath raising the fine hair along the back of her neck. His heart hammered a heavy drumbeat that matched her own, and her nipples seemed to be pressing ever forward to get nearer to it.

His free arm encircled her, resting just above her hip, where his hand moved in a gentle caress up and down her ribs, almost ticklish. The sensation of it all accumulated warm and heavy just below her belly. The heat of his lips rested close to the pulse of her neck. They were slightly parted, his breath coming in fast little puffs.

She knew she should be pushing him away, making him bend over for the spanking a misbehaving Pet deserved. She hadn’t asked him to touch her, and she hadn’t volunteered her services. ‘You’re a very naughty Pet, Tino.’ She barely managed to gasp before he tensed, and a strangled groan escaped his throat just as his cock twitched and she felt the silky slick heat of his come spill over both of their hands and against his bare belly. Then his whole body convulsed, and involuntarily he pulled her tight against him, an act which sent her into her own convulsions. She let out a startled cry. She hadn’t expected to come. She hadn’t intended to come, and yet there she stood quivering out her pleasure against the Pet, who held her in a powerful, sex-stimulated bear-hug.

It was only when her own body had calmed to after-shocks and tremors that her brain began to reassert itself, and she pulled away and gasped. ‘Bad Tino! Bad Pet!’ She grabbed the guest towel from the foot of the bed, wiped her hands and offered it to Tino, but he only stood there, hand, belly, and cock pearlescent with his come. She groaned a frustrated sigh, moved forward and began to wipe him briskly. ‘You’re a very bad boy. That wasn’t what I asked you to do. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable this all is for me?’

The Pet hung his head, turned his back to her and braced himself bent over the bed, bottom up.

‘No! I don’t want to spank you! That would only make matters worse, damn it!’ She shook the manual she still held in her one hand. ‘And they’re already bad enough.’ She paced the floor, her heart racing in her chest, still unable to believe what had just happened. Tino was a glorified prostitute, she reminded herself. Jesus, had she gotten so desperate? She forced herself to calm down as Tino turned a questioning gaze to her over his shoulder. ‘The bathroom is down the hall to your left if you want to clean up.’ Then she turned on her heels and quickly fled to her own room, shutting the door soundly behind her.

Download your FREE copy of THE PET SHOP :

Amazon UK
Amazon US

kdgrace-updated

 

Warm Up for World Cup with Lily Harlem’s Sizzling Football Novel, Scored

Lily Harlem Scored 16 June

Thanks so much for inviting me over today, Kd, it’s great to be here. I’m so excited about the FIFA 2014 World Cup. Mr H and I are planning parties with our friends and family. There will be England flags and banners, cakes and hats all with the England flag on them. No doubt some face-painting going on too!

Football fever really grips my family. I have five brothers-in-law plus three brothers of my own and they are all football crazy. It’s always loud, fun and to be honest, there were many years I didn’t ‘get’ it, but then I decided “if you can’t beat `em, join `em” which is exactly what I’ve done.

Now I’m now the one planning the party, organizing the get-together and Googling all the kick-off times. There will be beer, cheers, sighs of dismay and much discussion until the small hours of the morning – all good fun! Go England!

Scored, my sexy football novel, isn’t about the World Cup but the European Cup, specifically the 2012 European Cup hosted by Ukraine. I watched it avidly and was so inspired by all those sexy athletes shooting up and down the pitch that I created an England captain all of my own – enter Lewis Tate. Yum! He’s the perfect combination of alpha male, considerate English gent and single-minded athlete.

The heroine in Scored is a sports journalist, and a serious one at that. She isn’t interested in the gossip and the scandal surrounding the players, she wants to give the lowdown on the formation, the starting line up and the on-pitch skills. Yes, of course she does, she also can’t help having a major crush on Lewis, and despite some of her Bridget Jones’ ways, it seems he kinda likes her too!

Blurb

Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after?

So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no?

Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare.

lily Harlem Scored 3 16 JuneHere’s a snippet taken from when Nicky and Lewis have secretly met up in a Cathedral in Donetsk…

“But I’m just Nicky Thomas, sports journalist. I come from Stoke and have a middle-class, unremarkable background. Why would someone as amazing as you, with all your footballing credentials, want me?”

He shook his head and appeared bemused. “What does football have to do with me admiring your professionalism, being comfortable with who you are and fighting for what you want?” He paused. “You do still like me, don’t you?”

I nodded. Unable to trust myself to speak and gush about just how much I liked him. How much I would like to cover him in whipped cream, sprinkles and chocolate drops and spend an entire day eating it off him.

“Good,” he said. “Because if you can just cope with this craziness for a little while longer, in few weeks the tournament will be over and we won’t have to sneak around.”

“You mean—”

He brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, honey, I mean this is just the start of something. Well, it is for me anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone who’s been my last thought as I’ve gone to sleep and my first thought each morning.”

Oh, fuck. Now he’s got me.

I became a puddle of romantic ideals falling toward him. Didn’t he know what kind of effect sentiments like that had on a girl? I reached for his shoulders, pressed my body to his and allowed him to kiss me into a stupor of longing. He was my every thought too. When I wasn’t with him I was thinking about being with him and when I was with him I just couldn’t get close enough.

He tangled his fingers in my hair and held me firm as he kissed and explored my mouth. I let him in and melted under his touch. The way he was clasping me was so possessive, so masculine and dominant. Little thought kernels of what he could do to me, how he could make me feel, in bed, began to pop like candy in my belly. Imagine if he held me like this when he…

Oh, sweet Jesus. I was getting turned on again. Shit, and in a holy place.

Lewis groaned and sent kisses across my cheek, tugged my hair firmer so my head tipped, then licked and nipped at my neck. Lust shot to my pussy. It was like there was a wire from the skin on my neck to my clit and his attentions sent white-hot streaks of pleasure zapping down it.

“Lewis,” I murmured, trying to move my head but unable to. I discovered that far from feeling frustrated I reveled in the hold he had on me. That fact that I couldn’t move and he was doing what he wanted to my neck was a massive turn-on.

“Ah, honey, I could have fucking killed Fellows the other night. Walking away from you took every ounce of control I had.”

His breath was scalding hot against my flesh and I shivered with pleasure at his heated words.

“It was okay for you, though,” he went on.

“What do you mean?”
He released the grip on my head and brought my face level with his. “I think you know.”
I swallowed. I did know.

“You used it, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Don’t act coy.” A slow smile spread on his face. “Because it makes me so horny to imagine you using your vibrator and thinking of me.”

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

He took full advantage and kissed me again. This time he slipped his hand up my top and cupped my breast over the new bra.

I pressed closer for more. Why did we have to be fully clothed and in a cathedral? Right now I would sell my soul to be naked in bed with him and no other person for a hundred miles around.

“I can just imagine you,” he said, tweaking my nipple through silk. “Lying on the bed, legs spread, that buzzing shaft penetrating your sweetness, getting you off, making you pant and sweat.” He paused. “Did you think of me?”

Fuck yes.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “Please, I want to know.”

“Yes. Yes I did.”
I felt his body tense and his shoulders hitched, like he was pulling in a deep breath.

“And did you say my name?” He switched his attentions to the opposite breast.

“Yes, over and over.”

He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a long deep sigh. “Oh, fuck, that mental image of you is so hot,” he muttered.

“Lewis Tate,” I said in a scolding whisper. “You’re a bad boy picturing such things in a holy place.”

His eyes pinged open and his gaze trapped mine. For a split second I thought he might grin. He didn’t. “Tell me you’re not thinking them too.”

“Yes, I am, but—”

“But the difference is you’re not going to have zipper marks permanently imprinted on your genitals.” He shifted on the seat. “Fuck, you make me so hard.” He shook his head and muttered, “So hard it hurts.”

That knowledge thrilled me utterly. “Is that so?” I ran my hand down over his chest, his abdomen, then settled it on the solid wedge of flesh at his groin that was pushing and straining against the denim.

“That’s not helping.” He moaned. His face twisted and his eyes screwed up tight.

“I know what will, though.”

Fuck. Had I really just said that? Double fuck. Had I really just thought that? I had, and it seemed I was the biggest sinner of the lot because I didn’t care. I wanted to act on my impulse. In fact, I wasn’t sure anything could stop me. Not now the need, the desire, had flooded my brain like a tsunami.

I tugged at the button on his jeans, freeing it with a quick flick of my wrist.

“Nicky,” he said, parting his lips on a pant. “What are you doing?” He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoky, their normally crystal-clear depths clouded with lust.

“I’m going to help you out with that zipper problem.” As I spoke I tugged down the zip on his jeans. The flesh beneath burst forward, the cotton of his briefs not as efficient at containing his cock as the denim had been.

“Ah, fuck, really, here?” He hissed in a breath as I cupped his shaft through cotton.

I glanced around. “We seem to be alone.”

“But anyone could walk in—”

I kissed him, cut off his words, the same way he had me earlier. “I somehow don’t think it will take long.” I sought the waistband of his boxers and delved inside. Bulging, heated flesh strained forward and I gripped it eagerly. Ecstatic to finally

have his cock in my hand.

“Now just let me down there,” I said, nodding between his knees and finding myself admiring the proud, scarlet shaft filling my palm. The head was wide and shiny and blushed with arousal.

He didn’t speak, just spread his thighs and let me maneuver myself between him and the pew in front. “Keep look out,” I said, finding a prayer cushion for my knees and settling into the softness.

“I’ll try.” His cheeks were flushed, his jaw tensed.

I gave him a sexy grin then poked out my tongue and stroked it through the deep slit on the head of his cock. Pulled in his flavor and swept it over my palate. It was sweetly bitter with a salty creaminess to it. Delicious.

“Ah, shit, that’s so horny seeing you do that.” He tipped forward and gripped the backrest of the pew behind me, effectively embracing me within his bulk and engulfing me in shadows. “Fuck, be careful. I’m so near coming already.”

“Keep looking out,” I said.

*****

Oh Nicky you’re so bad, but it does get good for her, really good! Against the wall, in the bath and tied to the bed good! Here are a few reviews for Scored…

Lily Harlem’s story of a famous footballer and a hardcore sports writer is one of the best happily ever after erotica novels I’ve read.”

“Explosive, and oh my god wow, that’s all I can say. I could not put the book (Scored) down till I was finished. A must read!”

“From strangers to friendship to lovers, Nicky and Lewis were amazing. It felt like real life and I could picture all the events taking place. This is a must read!”

“An amazing story.”

“This is a must read. 123 pages of yummy goodness.”

And if you like Pinterest this might be right up your street… http://www.pinterest.com/lilyharlem/sexy-soccer-scored/

Lily Harlem Scored 2 16 June

 

 

 

 

Scored is available from all good ebook retailers including:

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Scored-ebook/dp/B0085MQSA6/ref=la_B004MHRTQK_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366015666&sr=1-14

Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/Scored-Sexy-Sporting-Romance-Harlem-ebook/dp/B0085MQSA6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401693751&sr=1-1&keywords=Scored+%28Sexy+Sporting+Romance%29

ARe https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-scored-1485502-356.html

Kobo http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/scored-1

Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/scored-lily-harlem/1119140373?ean=2940149314478&itm=1&usri=2940149314478

iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id859050689

Find out more about me and my work on my website http://www.lilyharlem.com follow my blog for daily musings http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.co.uk and subscribe to my newsletter for information on new releases, freebies and contests http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Thank you for inviting me to your blog, Kd J

 

This Summer’s Sexy, Heart-felt Must-read, Dianna Hardy’s The Spell of Summer

A huge thank you to KD for having me on her blog! It’s always an honour to be here, because I LOVE her Lakeland Heat series, and I know how busy she is 🙂

Read on to find out all about my upcoming release, which can already be pre-ordered.

Dianna Hardy SOS 3

Meredith is leading a straight-laced life in London with her straight-laced fiancé, determined to forget her reckless, wild-child past. They’re about to get married.


Jamie is an old, poetic soul with a broken heart returning home to Cornwall to get his life back in order.

What binds them?

Dianna Hardy SOS coverOne chance meeting thirteen summers ago; one innocent spell spoken after one perfect night…

And now history is unravelling; the past and present, merging…

Words can change everything, but can they change your destiny?

And in the messy world of magic, what part does love play?

It’s summer all over again, but the spell has only just begun.

 

Defined as Practical Magic meets a Nicholas Sparks novel, written

‘Dianna Hardy-style’ – do not miss this summer’s must-read story!

 

This is a heartfelt, summer romance, but also a story about letting go, making changes, second chances and acceptance. Since most of my books are racy and erotic urban fantasy romances, I was definitely nervous to delve into the realms of contemporary romantic fiction, not least because in my heart, I wanted to keep my “signature” style of writing: third person point of view, from many different characters, as fast-paced as possible without compromising detail, and, of course, it had to have meaning, humour and sexiness, with characters that are both real and larger-than-life.

Reading over that, it’s no wonder I have a mini-panic attack every time I write a book! That sounds like a lot to fit in, especially into a genre I’ve never written before, but I hope I’ve succeeded – time will tell 🙂

Dianna Hardy SOS 2

 

 

The Spell of Summer was originally going to be a more standard romance, telling just the story of the main couple, and I even considered writing it in first person, present tense. In the spirit of brutal honesty, that’s what seems to sell the best – it seems to be what readers want.

 

I’m glad I didn’t write it that way, although I can only say that now that I’ve finished it! The end product is truly what I wanted, it’s very ‘me’ and I’m over the moon with it.

 

(insert “tame her” quote image)

 

I jokingly call myself a “method author”. It seems that every time I write a book, something happens in my life that enables me to get within a character or situation that I need more insight on. The Spell of Summer was no different – god, not at all – and I hope you all enjoy the read. Writing it was certainly an amazing journey.

Dianna Hardy SOS 1

 

EBOOK ORDER LINKS:

Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-spell-of-summer

Barnes & Noble (Nook) – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/dianna-hardy

iBooks / iTunes – https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/spell-summer-once-times-thrice/id881293283?mt=11

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/440225

Amazon US – only available on release day – try this search link

Amazon UK – only available on release day – try this search link

 

PAPERBACK ORDER LINKS:

Book Depository – http://www.bookdepository.com/Spell-Summer-Dianna-Hardy/9780957540422

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/Spell-Summer-Once-Times-Thrice/dp/0957540426/

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spell-Summer-Once-Times-Thrice/dp/0957540426/

Full links can also be found on Dianna’s website: http://www.diannahardy.com/the-spell-of-summer.html

Dianna Hardy SOS cover 2Author Bio:

Dianna Hardy is the international bestselling author of The Witching Pen series, and the Eye Of The Storm series. She writes paranormal / urban fantasy and contemporary fiction that’s twisted in plot, big on the romance, high on the erotic, with a dusting of humour. She currently lives in Surrey (United Kingdom) with her partner and their daughter, where she writes full-time.

Official site: http://www.diannahardy.com