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Wolf Around the Corner Tour and Giveaway

 

 

Wolf Around The Corner

By Aidee Ladnier

 

 The Giveaway!

Aidee is giving away a $5 Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her backlist. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Don’t forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

 

About Wolf Around the Corner:

 

Frank’s family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart.

 

Settled in the small town of Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if Tom is only acting.

 

Tom ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast. Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed.

 

Wolf Around The Corner, a paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold!

 

Genre: M/M Paranormal Shifter Contemporary

 

Buy Links:

Amazon  | B&N| iBooks| Kobo| Smashwords| 24Symbols| Indigo| Angus & Robertson| Mondadori

Wolf Around the Corner Excerpt:

 

The first thing he always did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him, his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any longer. He sprang into the woods.

 

Frank ran, crashing through the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood.

 

His paws skidded on a pile of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor.

 

Dry twigs snapped beneath his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and fungi cradling him as he panted.

 

As he caught his breath, the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And the still of twilight calmed him.

 

When he’d rested enough that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain.

 

But his clothes weren’t there.

 

The sky darkened into night.

 

Frank knew Mrs. Anderson was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs.

 

Or he could stay in wolf form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog.

 

Or wait, a third option. There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human and sprinted across the yard.

 

He leaped for the lower boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on the side that faced the apartment house.

 

Frank balanced upright, his arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself. The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window.

 

Using the taller branch as a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more.

 

An ominous crack sounded beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it.

 

Frank jumped. And missed the house, falling into the azalea bushes.

 

Just as his hunky new neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the front steps.

 

Frank had seen Tom in the hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank wished had happened. What went down was:

 

“Need help?” Frank barely got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze. God, the man was gorgeous.

 

“Naw, man. I got it.” Tom shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.”

 

Frank wiped a clammy hand on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot.

 

Tom tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this time of year.”

 

Frank didn’t dare correct him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse.

 

“Okay, well then, see you around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment.

 

Meanwhile Frank beat it down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran over the exchange fail again and again.

 

So yeah. That was the less than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes.

 

“Are you okay?” The gleam from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet.

 

Too bad Frank was a naked man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract Tom from looking at his hairy backside.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure?” Tom leaned closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?”

 

Frank racked his brain for some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.”

 

“Oh my God. Did you fall from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?”

 

Frank sighed. This conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank rose from behind the bushes.

 

“I’m okay. Just need to get back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security door.”

 

Tom’s eyes widened when Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out.

 

“Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods.

 

Frank took the stairs two at a time to escape.

 

After a shower and shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and approachable. He could do this. He had game.

 

“Hey, I know you don’t know many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a loser.

 

“Yo, you want to watch football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports?

 

“I ordered two large pizzas by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni for a week.”

 

Lame. Frank’s own gaunt features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse.

 

Galen’s syndrome was rare, only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree. Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology.

 

All Frank knew was the recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children.

 

It had gutted him. They turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid, lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family. So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult things he still hadn’t figured out.

 

Like how to ask out a guy who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side.

 

But on the plus side, small towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He should take his clothes with him

 

About Aidee:

Aidee Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, believes that adventure is around every corner. In pursuit of new experiences she’s worked as a magician’s assistant, been a beauty pageant contestant, ridden in hot air balloons, produced independent movies, hiked up a volcano, and is a proud citizen scientist. A lover of genre fiction, Aidee’s perfect romance has a little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a zing.

 

Social Links:

Website:http://www.aideeladnier.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6570769.Aidee_Ladnier

Amazon: amazon.com/author/aideeladnier

Tumblr: http://aideemoi.tumblr.com/

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/aideelad/

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

Instagram: http://instagram.com/aideelad/

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Introducing Debut Novel Gumshoe Girl by Andi Ramos (@andiramosauthor)

Blurb:

Sheagan O’Hare got more than she bargained for when her newly inherited detective agency lands its first case; a missing person, embezzlement, and murder. Sheagan’s out to prove she can hang with the pro’s, despite the constant reminder of her amateur status from an annoyingly attractive FBI agent, Colin ‘Mac’ MacEvine, who’s forced himself into her life.

How does she feel when an old high school friend hopes to ignite a new romance?

Will she be able to discover if detective work and love can mingle before someone gets hurt?

Buy Links:

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2I9M30G

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Kxo5um

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/gumeshoe-girl/id1376902448

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/820388?ref=cw1985

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/gumeshoe-girl

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/gumeshoe-girl-andi-ramos/1128555736

*****

Excerpt

Sheagan blinked back the sting in her eyes as sweat drizzled from her forehead. Her shoulders and forearms cried out as determination inched her body forward through the tin walls that framed her slender figure. The narrow shaft rendered her legs useless as they dragged behind her like dead weight. She made a vow to start working out as she approached her destination, the metal grate that looked down into the sweetheart suite of the Eliot Hotel.

She shimmied her binoculars out of her bag and clutched them in her sweaty palms as she readied herself to delve into the world of private investigating. The friction of her movements caused her mahogany mane to cling to all the surfaces of her temporary confinement. Perched behind the filigree frame, peering like a caged animal, she was a mere 20 feet from her target. Her target? The Rat Bastard, who up until this very moment she’d called boyfriend.

She wasn’t there to kill him, even though the thought had crossed her mind; no, she was there to catch him in the act. She suspected he had been cheating on her for some time, so proof would end her suspicion or the relationship. Spying on her significant other through an air-vent of a swanky hotel room was hardly a promising start to her so-called glamorous career as a private detective. But it snapped her back into the reality that her new chosen profession would often be messy and difficult.

She peered through the grate and envied the spacious room below, but her viewing angle was no good for the task at hand. She could feel the heat in her cheeks rise along with her anger as she scanned the room and soaked in the extravagance–the hardwood tables, the Italian marble fireplace, the opulent sheen of the fabric on the overstuffed furniture that glimmered in the soft candlelight. The Rat Bastard was not known to overindulge on frivolous expenses, unless it was on her dime. Thoughts of killing him resurfaced.

What is wrong with me? Why did I wait so long?

She immediately regretted the fleeting question. She knew why. The answer brought back the pain and significance of her father’s sudden death. He had been the only family she had left, and he was gone. All that was left behind was his detective agency. She had thought about giving it up, but she couldn’t; it was her only connection to him, to her family.

She closed her eyes briefly, realizing that now she was facing more loss–even if he was a lying, cheating Rat Bastard.

No! Its better this way, stay focused.

She choked in a breath and turned her attention back to the room. His secret love nest was finished with soothing tones on the walls and thick, plush carpeting.

What is that on the end table?

Her gaze was drawn to the bottle label as it bobbed upside down in the melting ice. She sharpened the focus of her binoculars, and her eyes widened in recognition.

Her cheeks flushed. Cristal, she scoffed. Who is this Bimbo, anyway?

As if she had room to criticize this girl’s intelligence, when Sheagan was the one sweating her makeup off in a four-by-four-foot air-duct.

Yeah, whos the stupid one?

She heard passionate sounds coming from the right of the room and recognized his tone. Leaning sideways, Sheagan pressed her face to the grate, but her limited

view revealed only a portion of the bed and unable to make out major details, like faces.

Crap, I cant see anything. Damn! She needed to get a better look

As she shifted her weight, the metal walls started to reverberate and Sheagan stifled a gasp, willing the rumbling to cease. Her breathing became labored as the musty air stole the aroma of the sweet perfume wafting up waft from the suite below. She stilled her movements and did the only thing she could think of… nothing. Nothing but stare at the heap of blankets and wait.

Come on, bimbo, come up for air. I know he doesnt last that long.

Her discomfort increased as the noise from their passion became more intense. Ugh, thats it, Ive had it!

She mashed her cheek and upper body against the grate.

I just need a peek to confirm.

She pressed harder, ogling the bed. Finally, she caught a tiny glimpse.

Just a little further.

She pushed and heard a chirring sound, then a scraping. She froze in place, but the grate gave way with a creaking groan and crashed to the ground. Time stood still as Sheagan realized there was nothing between her and the floor except air.

*****

Author Bio: 

Andi Ramos is a debut author from central Massachusetts where she lives with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.

Website: http://www.andiramos.com

Blog: http://www.andiramos.com/blog

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/andiramosauthor

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Out Now—Mia’s Wedding (The Heiress’s Harem #2) by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose

Blurb:

Planning a wedding is stressful enough, and that’s without a harem of gorgeous men to deal with.

Mia Harrington has had a difficult time of it lately—her father’s illness and subsequent death, then finding out she must get married if she is to inherit what’s rightfully hers. Fortunately, she’s tough and resourceful, and has emerged relatively unscathed from this period, as well as finding herself a suitable husband.

However, things are far from simple. Mia might be planning to marry investment banker Elias Pym, but she’s also having a relationship with his best friend, Doctor Alex Cartwright, and is in love with her gardener, Thomas Walker. Add to that broken dates, flashy proposals, a sexy Asian tech billionaire, and a nosey housekeeper, and you’ve got a situation hectic enough to drive even the most capable person to distraction. Can Mia juggle her men, her job, and the wedding arrangements, or is her happily ever after over before it has even begun?

Mia’s Wedding is the second book in The Heiress’s Harem reverse harem romance series.

Buy from Amazon or read in Kindle Unlimited: http://mybook.to/miaswedding

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38588135-mia-s-wedding

*****

Excerpt:

Mia locked up and put the key in her bag, then took Elias’s arm. They walked down the steps and out into the chilly January night to the waiting black cab.

“I’m afraid,” Elias said, once they were settled into the back of the car, “Alex isn’t coming.”

“What do you mean, he’s not coming?” she squeaked.

Elias looked apologetic, but gave a one-shouldered shrug. “There was an emergency at the hospital—as their nearest surgeon, he got called in. Couldn’t very well say no, could he?”

Mia shook her head and sagged back into the seat, her heart sinking to her stomach. “No, of course not. I’m very sorry he won’t be joining us, but although we’re scintillating company, we don’t count as a life or death situation.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand, then kept hold of it. “No, we certainly do not. I hope, though, that I’ll be entertainment enough for you by myself this evening.”

She squeezed his hand back, then leaned over and kissed his cheek, pulling in the scent of his delicious cologne at the same time. “I’m sure you will. Besides, this was part of what you two meant when you were talking about being able to give a woman the attention she deserves between you, wasn’t it? Alex unfortunately can’t make it, but because I’m dating—or whatever the hell we’re calling this—both of you, it means I’m not left high and dry. I’m sure at some point you’ll be the one who has to cancel. These things happen.”

With a smile, Elias said, “They sure do. Though I don’t really get emergencies at work—and if I do, they’re all about which person gets to line their pockets the most, rather than saving lives. But enough of that!” he added brightly, clearly eager to change the sore subject of his chosen career. Though she still didn’t understand why he was so embarrassed about it. And if he hated it so much, why was he still doing it? She wasn’t going to broach that particular topic, though, not tonight. She already had one potentially hairy subject to discuss.

But then how could she, now? How could she talk about the situation with Thomas without Alex present? She stifled a sigh. Fuck it. Looks like it’s going to have to wait.

“So,” she said, “where are we going?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he replied with a smirk.

She jabbed him in the ribs. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Patience, woman! We’ll be there in…” he peered out of the window, presumably to check where they were, “in less than ten minutes, traffic permitting.”

“Hmph.” She folded her arms and pouted. “Guess I’ll just have to wait, then.”

“Don’t sulk.” Elias tapped the end of her nose. “We haven’t seen each other in a little while, so I want smiles and laughter, not pouting. Even though I know you’re faking it.”

She gasped. “I never fake it!”

“I should hope not,” he shot back, his grin turning wicked. “My future wife deserves nothing but the best, and that includes orgasms. Real ones.”

Her tummy flip-flopped. Bloody hell, she’d almost forgotten about that. She’d been so focussed on working up to telling Elias and Alex they weren’t the only two men to be sharing her that there hadn’t been much capacity left for thinking about her impending wedding. But then, technically speaking, she wasn’t engaged yet. They’d discussed it and informally agreed to it, but there’d been no proposal, no acceptance, no ring.

There was plenty of time left for all that, though. If she and Elias had to grab a couple of witnesses and go to a registry office at the last minute, it would still count—her father hadn’t specified a type of ceremony, thankfully. But that wasn’t how she wanted to do things, and she suspected Elias wouldn’t be too keen on that idea, either.

“Ooh, your future wife, am I?” she teased, figuring that since the topic of Thomas was off the table, she might as well put the topic of their engagement on the table, instead.

Elias frowned. “Of course you are. I know we haven’t sorted a ring yet, but we still know we’re engaged…”

She shrugged, hoping it appeared more nonchalant to him than she actually felt. “Well, not exactly. We never made it official, did we? More of a loose verbal agreement.”

Elias groaned and screwed up his nose. “When you put it like that, it sounds bloody awful. I know to all intents and purposes it’s a practical arrangement, but I want it to be much more than that, Mia.” He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin. “I’ve missed you.”

Warmth bloomed where he touched her, and radiated across her entire face and down her neck. She smiled and placed her hand over his. “I want it to be more, too. And I’ve missed you, as well. It’s been a long month, hasn’t it?”

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Madelon Smid Launches Fatal Flight with a Tour and a Giveaway

Fatal Flight

Sisters in Peril Series Book 1

By Madelon Smid

 

Madelon will be giving away 1 ebook copy of Fatal Flight, 1 ebook copy of Climbing High, and 1 ebook copy of High Seas. 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 Fatal Flight:

 

When he finds Sky Stravinski, Adam Hamilton becomes enmeshed in a world of danger. Did he bring it with him, earning an enemy as chief engineer and test pilot, or find it along with her? Fulfilling his commitment means persuading Sky to meet the grandmother she never knew she had. Recovering from an airplane crash, torn between opposing forces, and caught up in the attacks on Sky, Adam fights for the fascinating pilot, determined to keep her safe, and win her love.

 

Everything Sky owns comes under attack, from her airplanes to her airfield and her life. Combatting a hidden enemy and Adam Hamilton’s intrusion, Sky feels trapped by circumstances outside her control. As her sponsor, he earns her trust. But Adam wants things Sky won’t give. Meeting her grandmother and developing a relationship with Adam will pull her back into their world of wealth and entitlement. Sky won’t become a rich man’s plaything again. Will the threats that bring them together convince Sky Adam deserves a place in her life?

 

Buy Links for Fatal Flight:

Amazon US| The Wild Rose Press| Amazon CA

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fatal Flight Excerpt:

“You consider going to Max behind my back being upfront?”

“Max came to me. I was interested and after crunching the numbers, researching your top notch standing on the circuit and talking with my father, thought this was a great PR opportunity for our corporation. I didn’t know you were against the idea. My experience is that as soon as someone knows what I’m worth, they want something from me.”

“And you assumed I was sticking my hand in the pot.” She stopped at the entrance to the big tent, where oceans of food were served all day. “Okay, I see where you were coming from. Pax.” She offered her hand.

She took quiet satisfaction in the fact he looked like she’d turned him on his head. Good, keep him off balance, and he couldn’t do the same to her. He took her hand, his long fingers warm and dry, just the lightest of squeezes. He’d never used his size and strength to intimidate, she realized. He was a true alpha male, for only the strongest, fastest and smartest protected the vulnerable. A weaker male, took advantage of them.

 

About Madelon Smid:

 

Madelon Smid has the pioneer spirit of a true prairie woman. She seeks inspiration from the rolling hills and river coulees that surround her home; creating characters as intriguing and beautiful as the ever changing skies.

As a successful non-fiction writer, she co-authored a best seller, Smart Women, published Chronic Challenge: Living Well with Chronic Disease, and many articles in national and regional magazines.

She taught writing classes for adults at her local college, ran a successful online writing course, and edited five anthologies for the Prairie Quills Writers’ Group, before returning to her true love – fiction. The six romantic suspense stories in her Daring Heights series have received glowing reviews.

While she continues searching out the best in nature, exploring new stretches of water in her kayak, and seeking new mountains to ski, she sees every adventure as fresh material for the next story she will create in her home by the river.

 

 

 

Madelon’s Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.madelonasmid.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/madelonsmid

Blog: http://www.madelonasmid.com/my_blog/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

The Retreat: Book 2 of Kay Jaybee’s Perfect Submissive Trilogy Now Out

 

 

 

A Twisted Fairytale-ish…

 

Continuing the story of Miss Jess Sanders journey through the world of the professional submissive, The Retreat takes her away from the life she has only just been getting used to in The Fables Hotel, Oxfordshire (see Book One: The Fifth Floor).

 

Not only is Jess being taken further out of her comfort zone…she has to face life through the haze of a mangled fairytale…

 

The Retreat Blurb:

Just as Jess Sanders is adjusting to her new life as the submissive in residence on the fifth floor of The Fables Hotel, her employer, Mrs Peters, makes a startling announcement. She has agreed to loan Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.

Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, a house hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching a new submissive how to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.

As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat’s overpowering dominatrix, Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem. Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?

In order to get back to the fifth floor, Jess is going to have to be far more than just a perfect submissive…

 

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(The Perfect Submissive Trilogydoes not have to be read in order, but you will get more out of Jess’s story if you read The Fifth Floor before The Retreat)

 

 

The Retreat Excerpt:

 

…Still held by the back of the neck, she was frogmarched along a narrow corridor by a slim young man Jess hadn’t been
able to see clearly in the dark. Whoever he was, he had kept purposely behind her as they strode through the castle. She had almost dared ask him where she was going, but Jess’s words died on her lips when she saw the spiral staircase of bare stone ahead of them.

Two minutes later, at the top of the stairs, they’d reached an open wooden door. With no corridors to either the left or right, there was no other way to go but through it. Jess was suddenly reminded of Rapunzel; who’d been imprisoned in a room at the top of a tower with nowhere to run.

The guide held her by the shoulders. His unspoken instruction that she should not look at him was made clear by the increasing intensity of his grip. With an unexpected burst of speed, the man then took a step back, while at the same time urging his charge firmly forward. No sooner had she stepped into the room than the door was snapped shut behind her. Jess found herself alone in a circular space which had curtains drawn all the way around it.

Five minutes later, she was still taking slow, deep breaths in an effort to keep calm. Whatever was happening would be for a reason, and if she knew David Proctor like she thought she did, Jess was sure that somewhere in the room there would be a camera observing her every move, gauging how she was reacting to this enforced situation.

Stood still, Jess cast her eyes around the room. If life at Fables had taught her anything, it was that the more detail she took in about her surroundings, and the more attention she paid to every word spoken to her, the more she’d learn, and the better her chances of survival and erotic contentment would be.

‘So, I’m inside the turret I saw from outside.’

In the centre of the room, a spindle-backed wooden chair sat next to a matching table. ‘All that’s missing here is a spinning wheel. Forget Rapunzel, this is Sleeping Beauty!’ Jess muttered to herself as she walked around the rug-covered stone floor, skirting the very edges of the room as if she was a tiger patrolling the surrounds of its cage. She ran her hands across the floor to ceiling dark purple velvet curtains. Unsure if she wanted to see behind them or not, Jess drew each one back.

The majority of the room’s walls were constructed of large blocks of bare granite, but as she threw open the third curtain, Jess stepped back in surprise. A wooden door, about four feet high, and two foot across, had been built into the curve of the stone. ‘OK, so maybe this isn’t Sleeping Beauty or Rapunzelafter all. Maybe it’s Snow White.

With her heart thumping, the submissive placed her hand on the brass doorknob and bent to see what was through the doorway. ‘Oh thank God!’

It was just a washroom. A modern shower cubicle, sink, and toilet were plumbed into the exquisitely tiled carpeted semicircle. Making use of the facilities, Jess wondered if this was to be her room; where she was to spend all her time when she wasn’t doing whatever it was that Proctor expected her to do.

Returning to the larger room, she continued to explore behind the curtains, wondering if any other cubbyholes were secretly attached to this turret. No more doors appeared but, drawing back the last pair of drapes, Jess jumped as she came face to face with her own bedraggled reflection.

A huge, round mirror stared at her. ‘So maybe this is Snow White! Complete with the scary mirror on the wall and the dwarf-sized door. Which means, I only have the Wicked Queen left to meet.’

As soon as she’d spoken the words she slammed her hand to her mouth. Why had she said that out loud? Until that point she’d considered herself to be doing well. She’d shown whoever was watching her via the camera she was convinced was installed in the turret somewhere that she was capable of acting calmly, and was brave enough to explore, not merely sitting and cowering on the chair awaiting her fate. Now she’d blown it. I might as well have laid back on the bed and wanked without permission, Jess thought crossly. Instantly, she wished she hadn’t had that thought either, for some solo comfort from her fingers over her ever-damp clit would been have more than welcome.

Beginning to shiver, realising that the curtains hadn’t been there to hide things, but to keep the heat in the room, Jess put the heavy velvet drapes back in place, starting with the one over the mirror. She’d never liked looking at herself, and the sheer size of this particular mirror, along with the brilliance of its shine, unnerved her as it reflected back her dishevelled red hair and tired eyes. ‘Not exactly the fairest of them all!’

Sitting at the little desk, Jess reasoned that this couldn’t be her bedroom, as there was no bed. That meant that, despite the fact it was almost one o’clock in the morning, she was being kept there for a reason other than to get some sleep. The idea of a wicked queen came back to her mind. No one had mentioned a mistress equivalent to Mrs Peters. Until now Jess had assumed that David would run this place, but now, as fatigue took a firmer hold, Jess saw how unlikely that was. Hot shot businessmen don’t run places like this; they get other people to run such establishments for them while they sit back and get off on the results. Surely though, she thought, allowing her eyes to close for a few seconds, if I can survive Mrs Peters’ regime, then whoever runs this place will be no problem. She snapped her eyes back open. Or could they be worse?

 

Many thanks.

Kay xx

 

About Kay Jaybee:

 

 

 

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy(KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1;The Perfect Submissive Trilogy(KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector(KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation(Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type(1001 NightsPress), 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook -http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

 

 

 
© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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