• Home
  • Posts Tagged'romance'
  • Page 20

Posts Tagged ‘romance’

Guest Blogger: Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger)

theblackdoor_tourbuttonThank you to the fabulous KD Grace for hosting me today! I’m here to promote my latest contemporary-slash-erotic romance, The Black Door, but I’m going to be honest – selling is a problem for me.

I used to work in a telesales office, and I think I managed to last two weeks before I was shipped off to customer services because I couldn’t sell chocolate to children. And that is something I’ve struggled with since having my books published.

Once upon a time, I thought that being a writer meant putting a few words on a piece of paper and letting agents, editors, publishers and publicists do the rest. How wrong I was! Being a writer means having to sell yourself as well as your work. Now don’t get me wrong – I love to talk. I could win medals for yakkety-yak-yaking. I talk about absolutely everything and anything to anyone, whether they are listening or not. But ask me to talk about how great my books are and I am lost for words.

I don’t like being the centre of attention. My worst nightmare came true when I went to Smut by the Sea in Scarborough a few months ago. I had to stand on stage and read a scene from one of my books out. Bravely, I chose a light sex scene. I wasn’t on my own. I was surrounded by other writers, and I wasn’t first so I could enjoy listening to them. Only I didn’t. I spent the entire time feeling like I wanted to run off the stage and either cry or throw up. I don’t do well in front of an audience, which doesn’t help when it comes to selling myself.

I don’t want to come across as big-headed or egotistical. I don’t want to sit here and tell you how great The Black Door is because, well, would you believe me? I wrote it, so of course I think it’s a five-star novel and worthy of being on the best sellers list, but that doesn’t mean that readers will agree with me. And what if you do hate it? What if I sit here and tell you how amazing it is, and then you buy it and think “what the hell was she going on about?”… PANIC!!

I’ve been told that I shouldn’t worry about reviews, only the sales. But I do worry about reviews. I write because I enjoy it, but I send them to publishers because I want other people to enjoy what I’ve written as well.

Perhaps I should stop worrying. Perhaps I should write about how The Black Door is a fantastic contemporary / erotic romance with hot sex, and realistic characters. I should tell you how you will be able to empathise with Imogen as she is not your stereotypical young, skinny, rich heroine. She’s flawed, she’s older, and she’s far from virginal.

I could compare it to best selling titles and say “if you liked blah, then you’ll love The Black Door” – I’ve seen other authors do that. But I’m not convinced. All I will say is that I wrote this because I listened to my readers. I was asked to write about a woman who was real and struggled, so I did. I wanted her to develop and discover herself, and I wanted readers to realise that we are all sexy and attractive. I only hope that I live up to that expectation.

 

Excerpt:

Men. All the bloody same.

My mind traced back to the day I had given up on one-sided monogamous relationships.

The children were at school or work, and the sun was beating down. It was a glorious day, and I had decided to go home for lunch, rather than spend it in a stuffy office.

I pulled up outside the house and a fleeting thought passed through my mind when I saw Connor’s car sitting in the driveway. My husband of eighteen years had had the same idea.

I crept into the house, hoping to surprise him. But, it turned out that his idea had involved a slutty bottle-blonde.

I wanted to blame the events that followed on a red mist descending over me. The truth is that in the time it took for my mind to register that some tart was riding my husband in what I later found out was known as reverse cowgirl, my mind had calculated the necessary response.

The skank lost a good handful of bleached hair, roots and all. I allowed her to gather her clothes and watched as she tugged her pants on whilst running out of the house. If nothing else, the neighbours got a good show.

Connor yelled at me. But his words were drowned out by the blood pumping in my ears. I marched back up the stairs and into his little study. Opening the window, I saw Miss Slut stood in the middle of the road, screeching obscenities at me. I looked at the Ferrari in our driveway and smiled.

I think his Xbox enjoyed its first and final flying lesson as it sailed out of the window. The fact that it landed in the bonnet of his prized mid-life crisis proved that Karma does exist.

Connor. Holly.

I made a mental note of the two names at the top of my imaginary hit list.

I blinked and I was back in the boardroom.

 

The Black DoorBlurb:

Imogen Pearce is a single mum of four children and fast approaching 40, she works at Ryedale Incorporated where she has to battle a younger and smarter generation to get to where she wants to go. If that means taking on the account of Cherry and Sean Rubin’s adult shop, then she will. But what happens when Imogen discovers the private club that they run at the back? And what happens when she realizes she knows quite a few members?

Buy Links:

Tirgearr Publishing
Smashwords
Amazon UK
Amazon US

 

Charlotte HowardAuthor bio and links

British author Charlotte Howard, was born in Oman and spent much of the first part of her life flitting between Oman, Scotland, and England. Now settled in Somerset, Charlotte lives with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets.

Her career as a writer began at an early age, with a poem being featured in an anthology for the East Midlands. Since then Charlotte has written many short stories and poems, and finally wrote her first full-length piece of fiction in 2010.

During what little spare time she has, Charlotte enjoys reading and writing (of course), spending time with her family, and watching action movies whilst eating curry and drinking tea.

Charlotte is an active member of Yeovil Creative Writers.

www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk
http://choward2614.wordpress.com
http://facebook.com/charlottehowardauthor
http://twitter.com/Shy_Tiger

 

The Silk Tie by Lily Harlem (@lily_harlem)

The Silk Tie“If you enjoyed The Glass Knot you’ll LOVE The Silk Tie.”

New from Lily Harlem, The Silk Tie, a steamy ménage a trois novel (mmf) that celebrates desire, fantasy and follows the brave decision of a woman to let a third into a her relationship. It’s steamy, sexy and leaves no detail unexplored. Grab a copy, settle down and enjoy a rollercoaster of emotions with Hayley, Gabe and Brent.

The Silk Tie is available from Amazon

The Glass Knot is available from Amazon and all other good ebook retailers

 

Back cover information

Professional life in the City of London is tough going which is why my husband Gabe and I live by the motto work hard and play hard. So when something, or rather someone, comes along that changes how he wants to play I’m intrigued by our sexy new game.

But there’s always private sides to the ones you love, and in this case new thoughts and desires are stealing Gabe’s dreams. It’s not until I meet Brent—gorgeous and sophisticated yet soul-achingly alone—that I begin to understand the complex layers of Gabe’s needs and exactly what I have to do.

But I’m not afraid; in fact the idea of two men turns me the hell on. In a whirlwind of romance, fear, desire and a new cresting wave of passion we open up to each other, testing the water for one weekend only. Or is it? Will we ever be the same again? Can Gabe and I survive our decision to let a third into our bed? Can Brent just walk away and, more importantly, will we let him?

 

Excerpt

The bathroom door opened, and Gabe wandered out wearing his favorite pair of worn jeans. His chest was bare and his hair was damp and pushed back over his head. He’d shaved that morning but I could smell a fresh application of his most expensive cologne.

“How are you doing?” I asked, standing.

Damn, he looked so absolutely fuckable.

He walked up to me and cupped my face. “I’m fine, are you?”

“Yes.” My stomach was tense and my skin hot and tingly, a bit like going up the ramp on a rollercoaster. But I was okay.

“No matter what happens, remember I love you,” Gabe said. “You’re my wife, my soul mate. Nothing can change that.”

“I know, and you remember that this is your moment of fun with Brent. Go with it. Forget I’m here. Realize the fantasy.”

“I doubt I’ll forget that you’re here…” He paused and smiled. “Well, maybe a little.”

I ran my hand down his chest then smoothed it over the lower curve of his defined pectoral muscles. “I put out the lube and condoms.”

He glanced at the locker. “Thanks.”

There was a knock at the door.

We both looked at each other then at the entrance to the room.

The door opened and Brent walked in.

He wore tight black boxers and nothing else. Like Gabe’s, his hair was damp.

He shut the door up and stood still, staring at us.

Gabe dropped his hands from my face and I took a step away.

“It’s dark in here,” Brent said.

“Too dark?” Gabe asked. “I can open the curtains.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Brent said, walking around the end of the bed and up to Gabe. “I can see you but it’s not dazzling. My eyes are adjusting now.” He smiled and gestured to the chair, looked my way. “You’ve found your viewing position, I see.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

He stepped past Gabe, reached for my hand and drew my knuckles to his lips. “I hope you enjoy the show.”

I swallowed. “I’m sure I will.”

He released me and turned to Gabe.

I admired Brent’s torso as he moved. Long and sleek, his muscles rippled gently beneath the surface. He didn’t appear to have any fat on him, he was just neat, harnessed strength. And his boxers covered an impressive bulge, the outline of which was easily made out. I’d guess he was already half-mast just with the anticipation of fucking Gabe.

“You smell good,” he said to Gabe as he ran the tip of his index finger over Gabe’s shoulder and down his bicep. “Delicious, in fact.”

Gabe tensed. “Thank you.”

“Relax,” Brent said. “You want this.”

“I do,” Gabe said, “I want you.”

Brent smiled then leaned forward and kissed my husband.

I stood and watched, mesmerized, the way I had been when I’d spied on them. Their large jaws moved in time. Both men had their eyes shut and the dance of their mouths showed their sleek tongues touching and exploring.

Gabe moaned a little, how he did when he became lost in a kiss, and he set his hands on the sides of Brent’s waist. The touch seemed a little hesitant, a bit awkward, though I could tell he was completely invested in the kiss.

Brent pulled back a fraction. He rested his palm on Gabe’s cheek then turned to me. “Come here, Hayley.”

I did as he’d asked. “What?” I asked quietly. My heart was thudding—just seeing them kiss did seriously stimulating things to my libido.

“Kiss him,” Brent said. “Kiss your husband.”

That was an instruction I didn’t need to be given twice.

Brent kept his hand on Gabe’s face as I meshed my lips with Gabe’s, prodding his tongue with mine and absorbing the lingering flavor of Brent in his mouth.

When I broke the kiss, Brent placed his hand on my face, too, so he was holding us both.

“You two are hot together,” he said smiling. “And so perfect for one another. I feel honored that you’ve let me in to fulfill a fantasy.”

“We feel the same about you being here,” Gabe said. He touched Brent’s mouth with his fingertips and traced the shape of his lips.

Brent smiled and gazed at Gabe. He then dropped his hand from my face and, as I’d done earlier, he caressed Gabe’s chest.

I felt Gabe’s shoulder shift against mine as he sucked in a breath. Being touched sensually, by a man, was what he’d wanted.

“I didn’t think you’d bother with jeans,” Brent said, slipping his hand down to Gabe’s waistband.

“I’m commando,” Gabe said with an almost shy smile.

Brent waggled his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Let’s have a look then, shall we?” Brent sank to his knees so his face was level with Gabe’s groin.

He undid the top button on Gabe’s jeans, then the next and the next. His big fingers worked slowly but steadily and his face held a serious expression of concentration.

Gabe was utterly still at my side.

Brent released the last button then tugged and shifted the jeans down to Gabe’s knees.

Gabe’s cock sprung forward, stiff and thick. The veins were raised and it jutted jauntily toward Brent’s face.

“Commando works for me,” Brent said. He swept his tongue over his bottom lip and stared at Gabe’s erection.

“I need…” Gabe kicked a little and rid himself of his trousers completely. “To lose these.”

Brent smiled and shoved the jeans aside. He didn’t take his gaze from Gabe’s cock. “Good, naked is how I like you best, so it seems.”

I liked Gabe naked too, but I wasn’t about to speak and break the sizzling connection between the two men. It was almost palpable. The air was alive with need.

Brent slid his palms up from Gabe’s knees to his thighs then tickled his fingers through Gabe’s wiry pubic hair.

Again Gabe tensed. He swayed too.

“You have an incredible dick,” Brent said. “I want to taste it.”

“Okay…” Gabe said, his voice breathy and light. “I mean yes…please do.”

Brent smiled, but only briefly because then he opened his mouth, leaned forward and took the head of Gabe’s cock between his lips. He gripped Gabe’s shaft with his right hand and with his left, scooped up his balls.

“Ah, fuck,” Gabe said. He toppled backward a few inches before adjusting his balance.

I snapped out my arm and curled it around his waist, felt his weight sag against me as I supported him.

“That’s…oh, God, your mouth on me…Brent.”

Gabe didn’t need to say the words. Brent’s mouth, stretched around the flare of Gabe’s cock, was a beautiful and highly erotic sight.

Brent slid Gabe’s shaft deeper. His eyes were shut and his jaw pulled wide. He fed Gabe in, slipping his fingers over his erection.

Gabe reached out and weaved his fingers into Brent’s hair. “Fucking hell,” he gasped.

Brent kept going. I knew how much of Gabe I could take in my mouth, and it wasn’t to the root but Brent was nearly there now. His cheeks bulged and his nostrils flared. I could hear him breathing hard through his nose.

Gabe panted and stared downward.

I held him tight, my nipples peaking against my floaty sundress and my pussy dampening the gusset of my knickers.

“Ahh, yeah…”Gabe said, rocking his hips forward.

Brent’s face became buried in Gabe’s pubic hair. His shoulders were raised, tense, and his hand that had gripped Gabe’s cock now squeezed Gabe’s hip, his knuckles were paling.

I knew he’d be fighting his gag reflex. He had Gabe so deep, so far down.

He began to withdraw.

Gabe’s cock came into view, inch-by-inch, saliva-coated and shiny.

Gabe dragged in a deep breath then blew it out slowly.

Brent took hold of Gabe’s shaft again and held it tight. He pumped from the base to the tip several times, pulling on the skin and working his tongue over and into the slit.

Gabe moaned and flexed his hips.

“Ready for more?” Brent asked, looking up at Gabe.

“Yes,” Gabe said. “Absolutely.”

Again, Brent opened his mouth wide. He took Gabe on a fast ride to full-depth.

Gabe gasped and curled his fingers into fists in Brent’s hair.

My hands tingled with a desire to also touch Brent. Feel his hair, the texture of his skin. But I didn’t, I kept them to myself. One arm around Gabe’s waist, the other bunching up a handful of my sundress. I couldn’t interfere, that wasn’t my role here.

Brent was pulling back and sinking deep on Gabe’s cock over and over, his whole body rocking backward and forward.

Gabe was breathing fast, his abdomen was tense and I could feel tremors rippling over his muscles.

“Stop,” Gabe said suddenly. “Please, no more. You’re going to make me come.”

Brent let Gabe’s shaft slip from his mouth. “That’s the idea.”

“Not…like this…I want…I need…”

Buy The Silk Tie Here:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MDWQ5KW

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Silk-Tie-Erotic-Threesome-Romance-ebook/dp/B00MDWQ5KW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1407140634&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Silk+Tie+%28Erotic+Threesome+Romance%29

 

lily-harlemLily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora’s Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press. Her HOT ICE series 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 Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.

Her latest novel, Breathe You In, is a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come. Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2013.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set Trilogy 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!

 

Lily Harlem Links
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
Hockey Romance http://www.hockeyromance.com
Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html
Hot Ice https://www.facebook.com/hoticeseries
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

 

Author Pages 

Ellora’s Cave Totally Bound Amazon US Amazon UK ARe Kobo B&N Sony ibooks

 

Digging Deep by Louisa Bacio (@louisabacio)

louisabacio_tourbuttonSebastian Cox, the hero of The Big One, is a tortured soul. Like most creative types, he pours his sorrows into his music. By nature, I don’t plot out my stories. I let the elements come to me as they’re being written. Without giving too much away, Sebastian’s backstory gave me chills.

According to Ghosts and Gravestones of Savannah, Georgia, “Few things terrified the Victorian public more than being buried alive. Accidental burials in the 1800s were often the result of limited understanding of comas and high fevers where victims would appear to be lifeless and were quickly buried by mistake” (p. 87). When surveyed, most people rate being “buried alive” as one of the worst ways to die.

Being trapped in an underground bunker during an earthquake feeds off those fears. When I first started writing The Big One, I thought, “There doesn’t have to be a reason why Sebastian doesn’t like being underground, it’s natural.” Plenty of people feel that way, right? I mean research shows it.

But in fiction, that backstory can make it all the more poignant. When all the pieces came together, it totally resonated and clicked. Readers will probably be amazed that the connections were not planned out, and therein – to me – lies the beauty of not plotting. When it all comes together, it feels like magic.

Tell me: What are some other common fears humanity shares?

Thanks so much for hosting me!

 

Excerpt

“You want out of here? Fine, go for it.” Kayla pointed toward the doorway. “Be my guest and try to break the lock. If you succeed, I make no promises to your safety out there. We don’t know what’s happening. Maybe this was a minor shaker, or maybe the real thing, but what’s it going to hurt to sit tight and figure it out?”

“You plan on helping me pass the time in a more enjoyable manner?” He wagged his eyebrows at her, and despite herself, and her promise to have a strong will, a flutter started low in her belly. She couldn’t be attracted to him. He was such a neophyte. People like him never understood her.

“You watch yourself there.” She turned around and stalked to the other side of the room. Okay, given they were in such a small space, there wasn’t any getting away from him at the moment. He—and people like him—made her so mad.

“What about being optimistic?” he asked. “Thinking about the best in people. Self-fulfilling prophecies and life affirmations?”

“You can be positive all you want, and it’s not going to fill up your tank of gas. Having money, in smaller bills, hidden in case the banks crash and your ATM card doesn’t work—that’s being prepared. Just because I believe in reserving some supplies doesn’t mean I willed all this to happen. It did, and I’m ready for it.”

“‘Reserving?’ Is that what they’re calling it nowadays? I thought it was more akin to hoarding.”

Hoarding? He really didn’t get it. His comment hung in the air, and she did her best to ignore it. No matter what she said, the scorn from nonbelievers hurt. She grew up with her father being harassed by family members. It was only a matter of time before it was her turn. And her sister? Well, forget about telling her anything about being prepared. Maybe as destruction hit and a certain segment of the population was taken out, they’d be all gone. All that would be left would be those who’d taken the necessary precautions.

A wave of dizziness at the implications hit her, and she sat back down.

Right. As if life worked like that.

 

The Big OneBlurb:

The last thing marketing assistant Kayla Morgan expects to do on a Friday morning is give a tour of her emergency shelter to a flighty rock star. When her boss orders her to play nice, she acquiesces.

Sebastian Cox, lead singer of The U.K. Underground, finds the American bird with the bunker in her backyard more than wacky, but the band’s looking for a location to shoot their latest video.

When an earthquake strikes, the unlikely couple gets trapped and finds a few ways to keep themselves busy. Once reality sets in, will their differences leave them on shaky ground?

Available via Amazon, Decadent Publishing, ARe, Barnes & Noble and other eRetailers.

 

About Louisa Bacio

A Southern California native, Louisa Bacio can’t imagine living far away from the ocean. The multi-published author of erotic romance enjoys writing within all realms – from short stories to full-length novels.

Bacio shares her household with a supportive husband, two daughters growing “too fast,” and a multitude pet craziness: Two dogs, five fish tanks, an aviary, hamsters, rabbits and hermit crabs. In her other life, she teaches college classes in English, journalism and popular culture.

Visit her online at: http://www.louisabacio.com, http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio

and http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

 

Contest:

1) 3-book bundle of 1Night Stand titles: A Date with Death, A Dance with Death and A Duel with Death.

2) $15 gift card to Amazon

3) Grand prize: Emergency kit and swag pack (shipping to U.S. only).

Contest ends: Aug. 11

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

City Nights: One Night in Paris by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

One Night in ParisBlurb:

Jacob is nearly forty, and has recently come to the sudden realisation that he’s not doing much with his life. Sure, he’s got his own successful business, but what’s the point in earning lots of money and not doing anything or going anywhere to spend it?

He’s in serious danger of being all work and no play, so he starts to rectify this by organising a twenty four hour layover in Paris en route to a meeting in Dubai. Whilst there, he goes on a bus tour of the city, and there meets Annabelle, a fellow Brit who’s studying in Paris. There’s clearly an attraction between the two of them, so when the gorgeous Annabelle makes an indecent proposal to help Jacob fill his time in Paris, who is he to refuse?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/city-nights-one-night-in-paris/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21923363-one-night-in-paris

*****

Excerpt:

Jacob huffed out a breath as he reached the kerb, shooting a dirty look at the motorist who’d caused him to leap for the relative safety of the pavement. Christ, he’d heard talk of Parisian drivers, but until he’d experienced the place for himself, he’d thought the claims were exaggerated. Apparently not.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to regain some modicum of composure. It was not the best start to his day—all he’d done was catch the Metro to the Eiffel Tower so far, and he’d barely caught sight of the iconic monument before an insane motorist had almost run him down.

Checking his pockets to make sure nothing was amiss, he retrieved his pre-booked ticket for one of the hop-on, hop-off bus tours of the city while he was there. Horribly touristy, he knew, but given he’d never visited the French capital before, he felt it was excusable. Hell, he’d even booked a plane ticket with a nice twenty-four-hour layover so he could sneak in some sightseeing. It was going to be non-stop work when he got to Abu Dhabi, so he felt he was entitled to a little chill-out time before he got there.

He was the boss, anyway, so nobody could tell him what to do, where to go, or when. If he wanted to head for a brief jolly in Paris before a bunch of intense meetings with his Arabic clients, then he damn well would. What was the point in working his arse off constantly if he couldn’t reap the benefits? His fortieth birthday was approaching and the realisation had made him think. Almost forty and he hadn’t seen nearly enough of the world. Especially if you discounted hotels and conference rooms. Once, he’d flown to Rome, had a meeting in a hotel near the airport, then turned around and boarded a flight home. It had been worth it financially, but only months later, it hit Jacob what a colossally wasted opportunity it had been. Yes, the client had insisted on a face-to-face meeting, rather than a Skype chat, and yes, he’d needed to get back home to continue with yet more work, but it could have waited a day or two. Even a couple of days in the Italian capital would have been better than nothing.

What was the point in having plenty of money if one couldn’t enjoy it, after all?

With a decisive nod, Jacob checked his ticket for the location of the bus stop. He’d just headed for the Eiffel Tower in the first instance because he’d figured it would be the easiest thing in Paris to find. He’d been right in assuming that; the mighty iron structure pierced the sky, impressive and strangely beautiful. It was next on his list, after the bus tour, which he felt would help him get his bearings. He only had twenty four hours—there was no time to waste getting lost.

He quickly located the bus stop he’d been looking for, helped by the vehicle that had just arrived, emblazoned with the tour company logo. There was already a group waiting, and he hurried over to join the back of the queue. After a couple of minutes, it was his turn to have his ticket checked, then he was ushered onto the bus.

It seemed the majority of people who’d alighted in front of him had snagged seats on the bottom deck. It was far from full but somehow already felt crowded, so Jacob headed up the stairs, the child in him making a bee-line for the back seat.

He’d taken a couple of long strides when he saw someone already sitting there. A blonde, maybe a decade younger than him, and gorgeous. Their gazes met and they exchanged a polite smile before breaking eye contact.

*****

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

 

 

Calendar Men: Mr June – The Other Brother by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance

The Other BrotherPhotographer Melodie Carr moved to New York City to escape and make a fresh start. Her soldier fiancé was killed in a friendly-fire incident in Iraq, and she has been struggling to come to terms with it ever since. She still feels strongly about needless death and those left behind, so when she sees a call for photographs for a calendar of topless men, with profits going to the Hero Family Fund, she’s eager to help out. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know any men that fit the profile, so she gives up on the idea. That is, until Patrick Brogan—her late fiance’s brother—turns up in New York. Seeing him brings up all kinds of memories, but she’s determined to push them aside and be friends with Patrick. She also realizes he’d be perfect for the calendar. But can she persuade him to take part?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/calendar-men-mr-june-the-other-brother/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20554243-the-other-brother

Calendar Men freebies: http://calendar-men.blogspot.co.uk/p/desktop-calendars.html

*****

Excerpt:

Melodie Carr reluctantly clicked delete on the e-mail with a disappointed sigh. She couldn’t contribute to the charity calendar for the Hero Family Fund, a cause very close to her heart, because she didn’t know anyone suitable to photograph. Although her photography work varied—from children to pets, landscapes to portraits, she’d done a bit of everything—she got the impression the call for calendar models sought hunky guys to create a collection to make women swoon. Unfortunately, she didn’t work with professional models and therefore had to give up on the idea. A cute dog, something she had plenty of images of, simply wouldn’t cut it.

She might not be able to contribute, but resolved to find out when the calendar would be available and do her bit to help by buying a few copies. Some eye candy on her wall would definitely not go amiss, and her friends Poppy, Lola and Charis, and her grandmother, Joyce, would no doubt appreciate it. She grinned. Joyce, always good fun, said, there’s no such thing as too much eye candy. The saucy old broad.

Her smile faded. She missed her, having not been back to Boston to see her friends and family for a while. She should ask Joyce to come and visit her in New York—she hadn’t traveled much, and would love the hustle and bustle, the endless opportunities to people watch. Maybe Melodie and the rest of the family could buy her a ticket for her birthday. She’d have to give it some thought. It sure would be nice see a familiar face, other than via Skype.

Someone pressed the buzzer to her apartment and she sighed again. It was probably a delivery driver trying to get into the building. It wouldn’t even be a package for her.

Taking her time getting to the intercom, she hoped whoever it was would go away. No such luck—the buzzer squawked again. She inhaled deeply, trying to rein in her annoyance and avoid being rude or abrupt.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” a male voice said. “Are you Melodie? Melodie Carr?”

“I am.” A caller looking for her? Had she ordered something and forgotten about it? “Who’s calling?”

“It’s Patrick,” the voice replied. “Patrick Brogan.”

“Patrick….” Speechless, she laid a hand on the wall to steady herself as the bottom dropped out of her world. Evidently, running to New York—albeit under the pretense of a good career move—hadn’t been enough. Her past still followed her, still tried to flood her with reminders of what she’d lost.

“Melodie?”

Damn, the man’s persistent. She never should have admitted her identity before asking his. She could have told him he’d gotten the wrong place and sent him away.

*****

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

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

Site created and maintained by Writer Marketing Services | Sitemap
Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial