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Kathleen Rowland Launches One Night in Havana with a Great Giveaway


One Night in Havana

#34 in the City Nights Series from Tirgearr Publishing

by Kathleen Rowland


Kathleen will be awarding 3 lucky winners a $10 Amazon Gift Certiticate. Winners will be chosen randomly with Rafflecopter. 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.


About the Book:

A desperate competition and sizzling attraction leads to dangerous desire.


New York Marine biologist Veronica “Roni” Keane is attending the Havana Bay Conference in Cuba. Tomorrow only one grant will be awarded which will provide the winner with professional recognition, resources for a project, and living expenses for two years. She hopes to continue her deceased father’s work, but smooth operator, Carlos Montoya, has won many grants in the past.


Carlos, a freelancer for the Havana Port Authority, works to help protect Havana’s reputation as a bastion of safety. As international travelers flock to the island, attracted by its 1950’s time-warp and colonial architecture, the drug business is running rampant, particularly on Roni’s cruise ship. Something’s not right, and when her scuba tanks are tampered with, Carlos brings in the military police to investigate. For her safety, he keeps her close, but he craves her body.


Their attraction leads to a fun night with a bit of kink. But Roni finds herself in more trouble than she bargained for when the criminals blame her for alerting the military police and come looking for her. Can Roni trust Carlos to protect her? Will she stay in Havana if Carlos wins the coveted grant, or kiss her lover goodbye?


An erotic romance with mystery.


Amazon Buy Link





Chapter One

“Why, Veronica Keane.” A voice heavy with a Spanish accent drawled from behind her. “A dive bar?” A taunting tsk. “What do we have? A slumming New Yorker?”

She stiffened and closed her eyes. She knew that voice and its owner, Dr. Carlos Montoya, a finalist like her, competing for the same damn grant at the biggest Cephalopoda conference of the decade. Her heart pitter-pattered against her ribs. To turn toward him would intimate distress, or worse yet, weakness. She wouldn’t fail to win this grant, not when she was a final contender. “I like this funky little place.” Sia Macario Café, smack in the center of Havana, allowed her to observe locals and their daily lives.

“You need to eat with all the mojitos you’ve downed.” The big tease wasn’t counting. This was her first drink, but his rumbling, sexy timbre hinted at all kinds of dark, hot promises. She’d rubbed shoulders with the Cuban scientist all week. This splendid specimen of Latin male brought on a physical ache that punched low.

A flare-up stirred fear. For her own good, she needed to resist. “I ordered camarones enchiladas.” By now she knew the menu on the chalkboard by heart. She tipped her head back to whiff grilled shrimp soon to arrive in sofrito sauce with fried sweet plantains.

“The flan is good. Just like my abuela makes.”

“I bet. Your grandmother would be happy to hear that,” she said, knowing he brought out the best in most people. Two days ago he’d invited her and a handful of others scuba diving. The chance to ogle him had been one of the perks. He’d worn nothing but swim trunks, his bare chest on display. Every glistening muscle was finely etched. Not a drop of fat on him. Since he’d not given her the time of day, she’d checked him out without him noticing.

The hard-bodied host had led the way toward habitats of soft-bodied creatures. To find where invertebrates lived was never an easy task. Octopuses squeezed into narrow passages of coral for protection and gave females a place to keep their eggs. She’d discovered the remains of a few meals nearby.Octopuses scattered rocks and shells to help them hide.

This grant meant so much to her and no doubt to him as well. Veronica mindlessly toyed with the gold necklace around her neck, but anxiety crackled through her brain. Unlike this man of action, she lacked the flamboyant personality necessary to talk people into things. Carlos had that ability. He’d made friends with judges on board while she’d conversed with an older woman about a box of scones made with Cuban vanilla cream.

That day the wind had picked up to a gale force, and this woman named Bela with Lucille Ball red hair needed help walking to her home. The half mile down the seaside promenade, The Malecón, had provided her with time to practice her Spanish. Turned out Bela was Carlos’s grandmother. She’d worked as a maid when the Castro government came to power. When private homes were nationalized, titles were handed over to the dwelling occupants. Bela owned a crumbling home in the respected Verdado district and rented out rooms.

What Veronica detested about Carlos was his abnormal level of talent for schmoozing. Not that he wasn’t charismatic; he drew her like a powerful magnet with emotions hard to untangle. Why was a self-assured woman who ran her own life thinking about a man who commanded everyone around him?

She inhaled a breath and turned around on the barstool, caught fast by a gut punch of Carlos Montoya in the flesh. She sighed and surrendered to the tendrils of want sliding up between her thighs.

Tall and muscular, his lush dark hair curled to his collar giving him a wild, roguish appearance. His face was lean and chiseled. His mouth full and tempting. His eyes the smoky-gray of a grass fire and fringed with black lashes as dense as paintbrushes. He smiled. A faint hint of mockery curved his mouth, a sensual mouth she imagined to be either inviting or cruel. Or both at the same time when he leaned over a woman with a diamond-hard gleam in his dark eyes while she drowned with pleasure. She fought a fierce desire to run her hand across his broad chest, tip her face upward, and…

His breath tickled her face.

Not going there. She blinked and forced her mind to focus. Carlos Montoya was not the kind of man you lost focus around. But that image of putting her mouth full on his and peeling away his shirt once introduced in her mind was impossible to expunge. Pointless even to try.

He was an intimidating blend of intellect and sexy danger. Both qualities had her leaning back against the bar’s edge. If it weren’t for him, she’d have a chance at winning the grant.

His lips twitched. “You’re staying on one of the cruise ships, am I right?” He rolled up the sleeves of his linen jacket to reveal a dusting of manly hair.

”Yes.” Her cabin served as her hotel room while attending the January meetings with perfect high-seventies temperatures. His eyes locked with hers. She willed herself to move and yet she remained seated, clutching heat between her legs, a wetness so intense that her breath stalled in her chest while her heart hammered faster. Soon she’d return to freezing New York City.

“So, Bonita, give.” He slid onto the bar stool next to her. “What brings you down from a lofty ship to grace us lowly Cubans with your presence?”

Bonita. Pretty lady was not an endearment coming from the mouth curved in a taunting smile, but not a slight either. Not with his deep, melodic voice speaking words as if he knew secrets about her. What secrets did he know? Would he pry into her personal life? She doubted this bad-boy college professor acknowledged boundaries.

“Just drinks and dinner.” She scrambled for composure. “Aren’t we attending a world-class conference? I find the local population to be friendly and kind. That’s not slumming.”

The bartender set down a saoco. “Hope you like it, senorita.”

“Gracias,” she said. “Very nice, served in a coconut.”

“Ah, the saoco,” Carlos said. “Rum, lime juice, sugar, and ice. The saoco,” he repeated, disbelief heavy in his words. “Um. Wow. Once used as a tonic for prisoners of the revolution.”

“Medicinal?” She couldn’t help it. She chuckled and sounded as if a rusty spoon had scraped her throat raw, but it was genuine. The warm glow in its wake was welcome and needed. .

He leaned an elbow on the bar, his beer bottle with the green-and-red Cristal label dangling between his fingers. “Be careful with that one.” He dipped his head toward the front door as if he needed to go somewhere soon.

That fast, the glow snuffed out. She cleared her throat and gripped the fuzzy surface of the coconut container.

He placed a five-peso coin with a brass plug on the counter and whirled it. The spinning motion mirrored a dizzying attraction going on in low parts of her belly.

She cleared her wayward mind and nodded toward artwork on the opposite wall. “I plan to buy a painting tonight.”

“Don’t buy anything unless the seller gives you a certificate. You’ll need one to take art from Cuba. Artists deal in euros in case you don’t have pesos.”

She’d come prepared but said, “Thanks for the info.”

His coal-black eyes widened as he gazed from her head down to the tiny straps around her ankles as if she wore high heels and nothing else. “You give off a Barbie doll image,” he replied and stood up.


“Where’s Ken, anyway? Kenneth Morton. He came with you to the talks in Antarctica. Five years ago.” He grinned, and the mortification in her belly gave way to a longing which she had no business feeling toward her competitor.

“Ken and I broke up.” She hesitated for a moment. “You have a gift for remembering names. Like a salesman.”

“A person’s name is, to that person, the most important and sweetest sound. Back then I introduced myself to Ken in the men’s room.”

“I remember now. Didn’t you give a talk on a specialized pigment in the octopus?”

“Ahh, si.” He splayed his fingers over his chest. “A pigment in their blood is—”

“—called hemocyanin. Turns their blood blue and helps them survive subfreezing temperatures. Were you awarded something?”

“The antifreeze protein grant? No. It went to a deep-diving photographer. He wasn’t chicken about getting lost or trapped under the ice.”

She slid from her stool and strutted around, jutting her chin in and out like a chicken. “Bock, bock, bock, bock, bock, begowwwwk.”

He chuckled. “Cute chicken dance. Very cute in that skimpy black dress.”

Her cheeks heated, and she clutched her necklace. He’d seen plenty of women in body-fitting attire. In Cuba, women wore dresses to meetings. If she’d harnessed sexier mojo, she’d have livened up presentations. Her presentations with an abundance of dull data went south. She slid back against her stool and clutched her purse to her stomach as if the small satin bag could calm the nerves playing deep down kickball. She belonged in her tidy New York office filled with computers, modems, and research manuals. Not in this softly lit café where passion oozed from a man’s pores, and artists displayed their canvases. Here was where Havana’s trendsetters congregated, and Ernest Hemingway wrote about desire.

“Good luck with your purchases, Veronica Keane.”

Okay, so they weren’t going to pretend they were going head to head for the grant.

As if he had more to say, he grinned at her, his perfect white teeth flashing.. “Do you find us different, like apples and oranges?”

“What am I, an apple or an orange?”

“Hmm. You’re an apple.” He was doing that sexy voice thing which made her brain shut down. Heady.

It started with an unexpected spark, an instant attraction, the jolting jab of oh-I’m-feeling-something. Something like a flashfire in her belly, but now they were talking. “Am I the apple of desire? Want to take a bite out of me?” She pulled in a breath. Had she really said that?

Bonita, do I ever.”


“Tomorrow is the final ceremony.” Would she watch him walk to the podium to accept the grant?


About the Author:

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with an erotic love story sure to melt their hearts. Her latest release is One Night in Havana, #34 in the City Nights series.


Kathleen also has a steamy romantic suspense series with Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy Alliance. Keep an icy drink handy while reading these sizzling stories.


Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji. Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.


Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors. While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.


If you’d enjoy news, sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at http://www.kathleenrowland.com/

Tirgearr Publishing – Leading The Pack










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Out Now—One Night in Kuala Lumpur by Abbey MacMunn @abbeymacmunn #EroticRomance #NewRelease

One Night in Kuala LumpurBlurb:

In search of inspiration and excitement, successful artist, Ziva Clarke, takes a trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Her exhibitions in the UK have left her exhausted, she’s had no fun in ages and her creativity is at below zero—the exotic Far East could be just what she needs.

Charmer Sam Tempest is visiting Kuala Lumpur on business with his father, but behind the impeccable suit and the wicked smile, he’s not a happy man. Duty bound to join his family’s international business, Sam longs to follow his true passion—to carve wood sculptures.

The two lonely souls meet by chance on a crowded street, and it turns out they might not be the strangers they first thought. So begins a night of confessions, shared dreams and hot sex.

Can one steamy night in Kuala Lumpur be the answer to both their dreams?

Buy Links:

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

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2tmcq8O

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/736962?ref=cw1985

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-kuala-lumpur/id1261163161?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/one-night-in-kuala-lumpur

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-kuala-lumpur-abbey-macmunn/1126808189?ean=2940154462416



Squinting, Ziva tried to see who’d spoken in a deep, smooth-as-silk British accent.

A tall man stood before her and greeted her with an alluring, lopsided smile that exuded confidence. Kind eyes crinkled at the corners.

His broad shoulders were clad in a navy, tailored business suit. With his thick hair, a rich, burnt umber colour, slicked back off his forehead, and an angular, clean-shaven jaw, the guy could have stepped off the set of a TV advert for men’s cologne. And his lips… oh boy, his lips. Full, well-defined, and made for sinning.

Her mouth dried. Kuala Lumpur grew more interesting by the second.

Elise filled in for her temporary inability to speak. “No, we haven’t. My sister failed to mention Pavilion or Lot 10. I’m afraid she doesn’t share my love for shopping.”

Surprise flashed across his face before his smile widened then hitched higher in one corner. Yep, male model material. Just my luck if he’s gay.

Elise shifted from one foot to the other and adjusted her hold on her dozen or so shopping bags. “Are the malls far?”
“No, not far. They’re near the Golden Triangle part of the city.”

Ziva stifled another groan. More malls, right near where they were staying.

The guy tipped his head. “I’m Sam, by the way.” Sophisticated charm oozed from every pore. “It’s lovely to meet two beautiful English roses so far from home.” Although he spoke to both of them, he directed an intense gaze at Ziva. Mischievous cobalt eyes sparkled in the bright sunlight then he winked at her. Hmm, not gay then.

“Hi, I’m Elise,” her sister said, sticking out her chest. “Nice to meet you, too.” She shuffled her feet again. “My feet are roasting standing here.”

Ziva glanced at Elise’s unsuitable choice of footwear as she stood on a drain cover. “I’m not surprised your feet are hot. It’s ninety-five degrees and you’re wearing high-heeled boots. I told you to wear your flat sandals.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Flat sandals do not go with this outfit,” she said resignedly. “Kuala Lumpur is home to some of the best shopping malls in South East Asia—who cares about a little discomfort?”

“So, you were listening when I read out the tourist brochure and the amazing places I’d like to visit.”

“No, not really.” Elise gave an apologetic shrug. “I heard ‘shopping malls’ mostly.”

Sam laughed. His attention never left Ziva. “And your name is…?”

The crowd surged forward to cross the road. Someone jostled past Ziva, accidentally knocking her elbow. Her tatty canvas handbag and her one and only shopping bag dropped to the ground. She gasped as her new lingerie tumbled onto the dusty pavement. “Oh, crap!”

Stooping to her haunches, she then hastily stuffed lacy bras and matching thongs back into the paper bag. Her blonde curls tumbled over her face, helping to hide cheeks that burned hotter than the pavement. A serious contender for Miss Tiny Tits UK, she’d been spoiled for choice when she’d seen that the malls in KL catered for smaller women, so she’d treated herself to a few items of sexy underwear. Not that she had an occasion to wear it, but still, the last thing she needed was to have it displayed for all to see.

Sam kneeled in front of her, picked up a black bra, and swung it on his finger. “Here, I think you missed one.”

Head still down, she reached for the bra, but he hooked his finger around the strap and held it firm. She tugged. “Let go.”

“Not until you tell me your name.” He tugged back, stretching the lace and elastic across the distance between them. “And not until you look at me.”


Author bio:

Abbey MacMunn writes contemporary, paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Hampshire, UK with her husband and their four children. She is a proud member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association.

When she’s not writing, she likes to watch films and TV shows – anything from rom-coms to superheroes to science fiction movies.

Contact links:

One Night in Kuala Lumpur Tirgearr Page


Twitter  @abbeymacmunn




Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.


Out Now—Unholy Alliance by Kathleen Rowland (@rowlandkathleen) #romance #suspense #giveaway

Unholy AllianceBlurb—Unholy Alliance (2nd book in the Donahue Cousins series)

A decade ago, Tori Rourke, and her cousin, Vivienne, ran from the Irish mob after witnessing a brutal murder. Tori was framed by the mob, and while she served time in prison, she worried that the killer, Seamus McGinn, had kidnapped her missing cousin.

Attorney Grady D. Fletcher, defender of the wrongly condemned, appeals Tori’s case and wins her release. Now, going by Victoria Morningstar, she runs a food truck from a seedy waterfront neighborhood, hoping to find her cousin’s kidnapper.

When Grady agrees to defend a new client, Samuel Peterson, who’s been accused of beating to death the wife of a noted professor, the evidence mounts. The professor is missing, as well as his laptop that contains data dangerous to national security.

And Seamus McGinn is back, and rumors of a massive annihilation is about to begin. As they race to assist the FBI, the bonds between Grady and Tori are about to be tested. It becomes clear Grady and Tori are falling fast for each other, but what to do about it is a different story. He’s a divorced dad who wants more time with his kid. She brings danger to his front door.

Grady has questions of his own; Is Vivienne at the center of the mob’s operation? How much will it cost Tori before she learns the truth? All Grady knows is the biggest danger is the one standing right behind you.

Available from:
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2qSksHL
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2qZHuNv
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2rCUhGq
iBooks: http://apple.co/2qj70dd
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2qZazXi
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2rTyeIB



“Don’t let the anxiety of freedom consume you.”  Attorney Grady Donahue Fletcher clenched his teeth and rehearsed what he’d say to his client, Victoria Morningstar. He’d won her appeal and drove to pick her up at Gladstone Penitentiary. “At least you won’t be placed in solitary.” That was worse.

Six months earlier Grady had phoned a reporter at the Los Angeles Globe. “Drew Barker. Grady Fletcher here.”

“Ah, the lawyer. Calling about a tip?”

“I am. Here’s something you can investigate. Tori Morningstar, did she murder Irene Brennan?”

“I wrote that story many years back,” the journalist had said. “I assume you have new discoveries.”

“Fraud, illegal testimony. Do you want the story first?” A second passed. “Otherwise, I’ll call the Orange County Guardian.”

“Okay, okay. We want it.”

Three days later Grady had a hand in writing the first article in Drew Barker’s column. “The public labeled Tori Morningstar as an undesirable. Not black and poor, but disfavored, accused, incarcerated, and wrongly condemned. Her cellphone has been recovered. Her call to 911 identified her voice and substantiated screams of the victim in the background. Could she have beaten someone while speaking to dispatch at the same time?”

The reporter had written the second article. “People who get their ideas about criminal lawyers from TV probably would be disappointed in Grady Fletcher. He lacks flash but stands up straight, his posture neither ramrod nor slouched. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t wear thousand dollar suits. His voice is soft and low, one of his assets. He speaks truth with a voice inviting confidences.”

As nice as that was, Grady’s stomach cramped over pressure and strain from Drew Barker’s final article with the headline, Tori Morningstar, Released Today. Picked up by the online service, Newser, KTLA, and CBS Los Angeles, they planned to broadcast his arrival to escort his client from Gladstone.

Tori’s decade-long prison sentence ended today but with a sobering fear over tomorrow.

When was a July morning this hot? Grady balanced her release papers on his lap as he rolled up one sleeve then the other while gripping the damp steering wheel. Sweat blossomed on his throbbing forehead, wrapped like a python’s grip. He adjusted the dial for the AC and embraced the challenge of helping another client get back on track. Embrace and conquer. Or at least sound like it.


Author Bio:

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts.  Writing a romantic suspense Irish American series for Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy AllianceBittersweet Alliance is in the works. Keep an icy drink handy while reading these hot stories.

Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.

Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.  If you’d enjoy news, sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at http://www.kathleenrowland.com/









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Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.


Out Now – City Nights: One Night in Sydney by Jan Graham (@jan_graham) #newrelease #romance #tirgearr


 Will passion win out over wise business sense in one of the most beautiful harbor side cities of the world?

They say you often meet the person of your dreams in the most unlikely places and when you least expect it. Abby Devon and Kane Matheson are about to put that theory to the test.

Abigail Devon is all about business, until the dream of keeping her company alive fails and she finds herself seeking distraction in the arms of a tempting stranger she met on the plane. Kane Matheson is a man like no other, and once Abby gives into her attraction to him, passions spark and a night of erotic pleasure begins.

Kane can’t believe his luck when his flight to Sydney places Abby along his path to a fun filled weekend. She’s his kind of woman—business minded, clever, and with curves in all the right places. When he discovers they have more in common than savvy business expertise and undeniable sexual heat, he’s faced with a daunting choice, and left wondering if pleasure can win out over wise business sense in one of the most beautiful harbor side cities of the world.

onenightinsydneybyjangraham200Have you ever met someone that’s been too tempting to resist? How did it work out? Was it a one-night fling or the start of something great? Buy One Night in Sydney to find out where Abby and Kane’s temptation leads them.

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2dcoLnJ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2cZC3JU
Nook: http://bit.ly/2agGsFF
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2azWTcH
iBooks: http://apple.co/2azWBTc
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2ataqaC

Don’t forget to add One Night in Sydney to your Goodreads bookshelf.



You know, if you like, we could hang out together in the city for a bit, maybe when you’ve finished your busy day.” Kane didn’t look at her this time; speaking from his reclined position, head tilted back against the rest with his eyes closed. “I only have to try on a suit and then I’m done for the day. You could meet me there, let me know if you think I look okay, you know, thumbs up or down, and then we could grab a bite… or something. Whatever takes your fancy, beautiful.”

He raised his lids and angled himself slightly to look at her for the final part of his statement, the wicked expression and cheeky glint in his eyes giving Abby the distinct impression he hoped that he’d be the something that took her fancy. He did. But it couldn’t happen.

Abby didn’t believe in love at first sight, but she did believe in lust at first sight and Kane ticked all her boxes. Feeling breathless, hardened nipples, feeling flushed when they touched, and that increasing ache between her legs. Luckily the flight was a short one, so she’d be able to escape him soon enough. In her party days they probably would have been in the bathroom, reaffirming her membership in the mile-high club, but those days were behind her. She doubted she’d renew that membership again any time soon.

“I really don’t think that’s possible. But thanks for the offer.” She wondered if he knew she was lying. Of course it was possible, all she had to do was say yes. She merely chose not to.

“That’s a shame. I have this feeling we’d get along really well.” He tore the edge off the bottom of a page in his magazine, grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket, scribbled a number on it and handed it to her. “In case you change your mind.”

Abby laughed and stared at the mobile number in her hand. He certainly was persistent.

“I assume you’ve run out of business cards?” She continued to chuckle as the plane began its descent. “You did say you understood business, right?”

“I did. I also said I was on a pleasure trip. I’ve left all business accessories at the office. This weekend, I’m just a regular guy who uses any piece of paper on hand to give the woman he likes his number.”

Oh Lord, thank heavens the plane had just touched down. She folded the paper, slipped her fingers into the front of her shirt and tucked the number into her bra. It was a mistake to put it there, and Abby knew it the moment her gaze met Kane’s, who was now standing waiting for her to step out into the aisle.

“What?” she asked innocently as Kane stared down at her cleavage with a devilish grin on his face. “It’s just a silly habit I picked up in my partying days. I’d pop anything important in my bra and that way I wouldn’t lose it.”

Grabbing her handbag from the floor, she stood and moved to walk out into the aisle but Kane blocked her way. His body forming a human wall as he retrieved her bag from the overhead cabin. Luggage sorted, Kane didn’t move, fixing her in place with his heated gaze.

“I’m glad you think I’m important.” His devilish grin didn’t waver and he spoke in a tone laced with lust. “I’m also delighted to know that when you take off your clothes tonight and get naked, you’ll be thinking about me.”

She was about to burst into flames. Abby raised her hand, placing it on his chest with the intention of pushing him back, only to find her fingers lingered on the defined muscle beneath her touch.

“We’ll see,” she whispered.

Kane placed his hand over hers, gently gripped her fingers and raised them to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles tenderly and smiled. “We will. Now off to your very busy business day, Abigail Devon.” Stepping back, Kane handed over her bag before ushering her into the aisle. “I look forward to receiving your call later today.”

Unsure how she made it to the plane’s exit on trembling legs, Abby breathed a sigh of relief once she made it into the terminal. Allowing the disembarking crowd to carry her forward, she picked up her pace. The more distance she put between Kane Matheson and herself, the better. Today was all about saving her company, not indulging in a quickie with a man she met on a plane.


About the Author: 

Jan Graham is an author of Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense, all her writing is erotic and some includes BDSM elements. She has numerous published titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of procrastination. Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads, feeds her Netflix addiction and drinks coffee with friends.

For those who enjoy labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a blogger, a submissive, an aunt, dyslexic, a lover of all things erotic, naughty, a participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and a member of The Australian Sex Party (no it’s nothing kinky, they are a legit political group).

In short, she is generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center. You can find out more about Jan and her work by stalking her on the various social media sites where she occasionally hangs out. Alternately you can sign up for her newsletter – Newsletter Sign-up

Jan’s Website
Jan’s Blog


Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


One Night in Manchester by Victoria Blisse Now Available!

Internet romance on the page and in real life!


OneNightinManchesterbyVictoriaBlisse-500One night in Manchester is essentially the story of how two people who met on the internet get to spend just one day and night together.

The story is entirely made up but I was inspired by part of my own life story.

Back in 1998 I met my now husband in a little chat room on the internet. It was affectionately known as Doug’s and a friend from college had given me the link. I spent a lot of my free time at uni there, chatting to people from all around the world.

When Kev first showed up I apparently ignored him, well, I had my own group of online mates and although I’d heard rumours I didn’t think Kev was anything special.

At the end of my chat I was saying my goodbyes and Kev wrote

*pinches your bottom on the way out*

And I blushed all the way home! From there on we got chatting, rang each other on the phone and after a few weeks met for the first time in the flesh. It was amazing.

And now, we’re king and queen of smut living our happily ever after together. Awww.

I won’t tell you if Jessica and Grant get a happily ever after but they do have a scorching hot day and night together. Here’s how they met.


One Night in Manchester Excerpt:

I calm myself while I wait for the door button to flash green. Pressing it, I continue to scan up and down the platform but the only person in sight is the pensioner. Walking through the newly opened doors I step gingerly along the platform, still looking for him. Surely I’ll recognise him. He’s not shy. His Facebook picture is himself – selfies taken on nights out and such. Or at least that’s what he’s told me.

I’m wracking my brain to remember what it’s called when someone pretends to be someone else online for personal gain. Could Grant be a catfish? It doesn’t seem likely—what would be in it for him? I’m not exactly rich and I’m certainly not a celebrity.

Oh, dear God in heaven, it’s not Nigel from Sales, is it?

I’m so caught up in the possible horror of being all pally pally with Nigel the knobhead who hits on me at work in the most skin-crawlingly creepy way, that I walk slap bang into someone.

“Sorry,” I gasp, then realise I’ve walked straight into the supporting pole of a tourist map. I step back and furtively glance around.

“Jess, are you okay?”

Oh great, Grant is here and the first thing he sees is me walking blithely into an inanimate object. Fabulous first impression.

“Grant?” I ask, looking towards the soft, lilting voice.

“The one and only. Are you okay?” His hand is on my arm and I’m looking up into the brightest, bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, surrounded by the face I know from so many party selfies.

“Yeah.” I shrug and giggle, trying to cover my blushes. “Told you I’m clumsy.”

“Yeah, you called it.” He grins and I melt.

Dear God, how can anyone have such a perfect smile? He’s actually hotter than I thought.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks, running a thumb across my forehead and brushing a loose curl off my face.

“Oh, nothing more than my pride.” I chuckle again, my cheeks getting hotter by the second.

“Well in that case, then—hello, Jess, it’s great to finally meet you.”

“And you, Grant,” I reply. Before I catch my breath he’s wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. I cling to him. He’s warm and hard and smells of pine and the great outdoors. I don’t want to let him go. His well-trimmed beard presses against my cheek and his hands rest confidently in the small of my back. Embarrassment and panic melt away and I let myself relax into his embrace.

Standing here all day, just wrapped up in him, listening to his gentle breathing and feeling his strong arms around me would be a dream come true. I could close my eyes and forget the world. I feel safe and secure and content, even if there is a bubbling of something disturbing in the pit of my stomach. It is, in a strange kind of way, quite a pleasant feeling, this one of arousal, but it’s not one I’m allowed to give in to.

He pulls back, leaving his hands resting on my hips, then leans in and kisses my cheek. Now I’m back to full-on flustered, the imprint of his lips burning hot against my skin.

“It’s so very good to see you, Jess. You look amazing.”

“Oh, thanks.” Looking down between us in my shyness, I try to catch my breath, but realise it looks like I’m staring at his crotch so lift my gaze again. He appears decidedly amused at my discomfort. “You’re very handsome yourself.”

“Well, thank you.” He inclines his head graciously like a gentleman of old and I blush even more. My cheeks must look like ripe apples, the heat they’re generating.

“Wanna come see where I’ve been working?” Grant asks, stepping to the side, leaving one hand on me. I’m very aware of its size, its weight, its possessive position on my body.

“S-sure, yeah, why not?”

“Okay then; you’ll need this.” He finally releases me, dipping his right hand into his jeans pocket and pulling it out again, complete with a pass on a lanyard. He pulls it open and slides it over my head, smoothing it down my chest. Anyone else doing something so intimate would creep me out, but it’s Grant. Maybe it’s an indication that he likes me the way I like him. Surely you don’t make an excuse to touch someone’s chest unless you’re attracted to them, or maybe he just doesn’t trust me to do it myself. I did just walk slap bang into a post, after all. That might be a more realistic explanation.


One Night in Manchester Blurb:

After a flirty online relationship, Grant meets Jessica in Manchester.

He works in TV and he shows Jessica around the set where he’s filming. Their relationship quickly escalates and they have sex…on one of the sets! As things develop, so does their love play. In public places! And a little spanking never really hurt anyone.

Will Jessica be able to say goodbye to Grant when his work is done?



Buy One Night in Manchester Here:








About Victoria:

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all 11731759_10154039766657786_3868193766871696713_oround Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut AlfrescoSmut by the Sea (Vol.1)Smut by the Sea (Vol.2)Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.

She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut NightsSmut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.

Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest



© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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