Tag Archives: erotic romance

New Paranormal Erotic Romance Novel by Lucy Felthouse – PACK OF LIES! (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #werewolves

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Pack of LiesBlurb:

Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam all their lives. The villagers know what happens every full moon, and are happy to keep their secret. But their privacy comes at a cost—neither brother has taken a lover in almost four hundred years.

Then at the full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be an animal. A large, vicious animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts. Meanwhile Isaac is smitten by a handsome newcomer to the village, while a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.

As they indulge their lust, they must clear their names and convince their neighbours that they aren’t also letting their baser instincts out to play.

Inside Scoop:  This book contains sizzling scenes of both M/M and M/F sex.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/pack-of-lies/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22756241-pack-of-lies

*****

Excerpt:

As Matthew and Isaac Adams opened the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it, you go and get ready for work.”

Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked toward the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering that the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.

“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again that the last part about the residence was old-fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”

“Yeah, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like a wild animal attack.”

An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”

The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look. You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”

“Isaac has to work, he just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling that it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least inconvenience, for him and his brother.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and toward his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”

Stepping into the room, Matthew looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, ready for his shift at the doctor’s surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. They’ve found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”

Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”

Matthew cut him off. “No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained that you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”

“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”

Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Isaac seemed to have thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”

Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though he realized it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored his older brother.

“Yeah, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”

Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night, before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. Immediately spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted!”

“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since normal wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.

*****

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

Guest Blogger: Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger)

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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

Roman Heat: A Hot Summer Except from To Rome with Lust

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As you all know, I’m putting the final touches on To Rome with Lust, the third novel in The Mount Series, which will be out late this autumn, but I thought with summer travel and summer heat all around, it was time to tease and titillate just a little with some Roman lust. Enjoy! 

To Rome with LustBlurb To Rome with Lust:

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

But sexual exploration takes a turn for the unpleasant when someone steals perfume formulas and lays the blame at Liza’s feet. Together she and Paolo must sniff out the culprit and prove Liza’s innocence before more is exposed – and lost — than just secret formulas.

X-Rated Xcerpt To Rome with Lust:

There was the tinkle of an incoming text. She figured it was Addie and braced herself for a barrage of questions about Carl. But the text wasn’t from Addie, nor was it from Carl. It was from Paolo. Her heart went into free fall.

Did you make it to your hotel OK?

Just arrived. Staying in a flat, actually. It’s amazing! You?

In limo heading home. Have your missing undergarment in my pocket. Stroking it to stimulate your delicious scent. Pretty sure you can guess what I’m stroking with my other hand.

She laughed out loud. The rush of moist heat between her legs made her quiver. She slipped out of her sweater and unhooked the bra she had put back on before the plane landed. Then she gave both her girls a caress as she freed them.

Really, P! Sex in a limo is so cliché.

Really, L! With your scent all over me, and your memento in my pocket it’s more essential than it is cliché.

Ah yes, my missing undergarments. Thanks to you I left the poor cab driver’s leather back seat very slippery.

Where are your hands, you naughty woman?

On my BlackBerry, of course.

Lol! Liar.

Not lying at all. Keys getting sticky though.

You naked?

Still wearing skirt. Nothing! Else!

OMG, woman! What u do 2 me! Pic?

Her heart did a drum roll in her chest and her pussy clenched. Fuck! Had he just asked her to send him a picture? Double fuck! Was she actually considering it? She nearly dropped her BlackBerry as she texted back.

U sho me urs, I’ll sho u mine J

P1010132There was a long pause. Oh god! Had she misunderstood him? Had she offended him? She was in the middle of composing a quick apology when his text came through. Fucking hell! It was a picture of his very large, very thick erection resting in the cupped palm of his hand against the silky red backdrop of her panties. The text simply read:

Your turn.

This was insane. This was not the sort of thing she would ever in a million years do. Was it because she was in a foreign country with a man she’d more than likely never see again after she finished her assignment here? For that matter they might both wake up in the morning too embarrassed to even contemplate further contact. He wasn’t a some backpacker passing through. Fuck! She knew nothing about him other than that he’d been seated in the first class cabin. Maybe he was married. Maybe he was a pervert serial killer. For the briefest moment a picture of Carl’s bare arse shoving and humping at the bimbo on his kitchen counter flashed through her head. She caught her breath, shoved up her skirt and leaned back against the pillows splaying her legs wide and bent-kneed. Then she fingered open her engorged pussy lips and snapped the shot with her other hand.

A peek at it made her stomach summersault. It was just so brazen. Her pussy, center stage, wet and wild and on display between her fingers. Christ, she was insane, and she was so turned on at the very thought of Paolo, stroking his cock with her panties while getting an up close and personal of her love box in his in-box. She wiped her fingers on her skirt and quickly typed:

To Rome with Lust: Cumming soon in a bedroom near you.

There was another long pause, but she was way past thinking of aplogising as she fingered her wet spot and thumbed her clit with one hand while flipping back and forth between the two filthy photos with the other. She was damn near there when the next text came.

P1010427Just came on your panties.

Just came on my fingers, then wiped them on your handkerchief.

There was another long pause in which she imagined both of them catching their breath. Finally another text arrived just as she was drifting off against the mound of fluffy pillows.

Gotta go, Lovely L. I’m home. C u 2morro?

Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to see her in spite of what they’d done!

Have 2 work 2morro. Maybe 2morro eve?

 I’ll text. I no a gr8 Italian restaurant.

Falling by Annabeth Leong (@AnnabethLeong)

Guest Blogger, , , ,

annabethleong_tourbuttonThank you so much for hosting me!

It’s a bit ironic to me that I’ve written some of my best scenes of people falling in love for a book that’s meant to be erotica, not romance. That’s not to say I’ve compromised the erotic elements by doing so—trust and believe that Untouched is wall-to-wall hot.

This is also the book that’s pushed me the farthest as a writer, though, so perhaps it’s no surprise that it led me to a deeper understanding of what happens when people fall in love.

I’ve written romances before, and I’ve had romances in real life, so I’m familiar with the stages of attraction and the realization that a connection is turning from attraction into something more. Untouched, however, made me step back and think about what’s going on in those cases.

I think falling in love feels like a private world is being formed. There’s a sense of wonder, accompanied by desperate hope that the feeling is mutual. There’s a sensation that the other person gets it in a way that’s special and different from most of the world.

When I’m feeling that, a lot of it hinges on the sense that the other person is feeling it, too, and that the other person does in fact get it. It hinges on the feeling that I am creating that same sense for the other person, that they, too, feel I understand them in a unique and important way.

There is a sense of being chosen, of setting each other apart and singling each other out.

To me, falling out of love is the collapse of this private world. It’s the realization that there was something false about it all along, or the admission that foundational pieces of it have been lost.

This private world is so heady and so wonderful to be in, that I think we’re all aware of how dangerous and seductive it can be. I want to see it so badly that I can convince myself it’s there even when it’s very much not there.

So this becomes the challenge of falling in love and then maintaining it—truly recognizing that private world when it appears, and then working to preserve it.

In many ways, that’s what Untouched is about. Celia, the heroine, is cut off from the world by her inability to allow someone to touch her. She doesn’t believe she can have that private world with anyone—until she meets Eli, and that sense of mutual understanding forms. From there, Celia’s plunged into a world of questions. Is this truly what it appears to be? In moments when it feels as if it will collapse, can it be saved? Is there something to rescue, or do those dark moments mean it was never there at all?

I enjoy the romance formula very much when I’m in the mood for it, but there’s a sense of safety that dulls the impact of those questions. In a romance, everyone knows that the characters are fated to be together, that the private world they’re glimpsing is true and right. It’s wonderful to go through that experience with characters, but in real life I’ve never had the luxury of knowledge of fate. For me, love has always felt more like the way I’ve written it in my erotica novel, Untouched. It’s large and scary and uncertain, and at the same time so heady and tempting.

 

UntouchedExcerpt:

The street where Eli had parked was empty except for a sleepy craft store and a few half-vacant apartment buildings. A grocery store circular drifted down the road, propelled by a lazy breeze. Everything contrasted with Celia’s sweaty urgency.

Eli drove an older luxury car, well-maintained, detailed, and cleaned, roomy on the inside. Celia grinned at him. “That looks perfect.”

“You’re sure? You would do this on the street? What if someone sees through the car window?”

“I don’t care,” Celia said firmly. Her pussy was already on the Internet. She could bare herself to Eli now without fear. “How about you?” she asked, trying to gauge his expression.

“Right now, I’d do just about anything.”

Again, tenderness compelled her to look out for him. “Will you be sorry tomorrow?”

“I can’t imagine how I could be sorry. This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Eli fumbled with his keys, shaking too much to fit them to the car’s lock. His hand slipped, and he dragged the point of the key a short distance over the car’s paint, marring it and creating a brief metallic screech. The keys dropped to the pavement.

“Jesus,” he said.

Celia felt brave and capable. “Take two steps to your left,” she said, and he obeyed her without question. When he’d moved out of the way, she knelt and picked up his keys. The metal was still warm from his hand. She cupped the keys in her palm, staring down at them in awe, feeling closer to him than she’d managed with another person in years.

Afraid that he wouldn’t understand, she slowly lifted her eyes to his face. Her fears proved unfounded. He wore a reverent expression that matched her feelings exactly. “That’s a big deal for you, isn’t it?” Eli’s voice was hushed.

“Oh yeah.”

“We have something, don’t we?”

“I think so.”

“We’ve got to get into that car.”

 

Blurb:

Celia Lambent lives in constant conflict. Her sexual appetite is voracious, and yet she cannot bear to be touched. Untouched is a raunchy journey of voyeurism and discovery as Celia seeks the cause and cure for her condition.

 

Preorder now:

Amazon US | Amazon UK 

Publisher site: http://www.sweetmeatspress.com

 

Untouched is also distributed in the U.S. by Consortium, and will be available at many fine bookstores.

 

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking and excellent bass lines. Her work has appeared in more than 40 anthologies and counting, including Made for Hire from Sweetmeats Press. Visit her website, annabetherotica.com, or find her on Twitter @AnnabethLeong

 

Preorder offer:

Preorder Untouched now and forward your confirmation e-mail to annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com. As a thank you, Annabeth will send you a complimentary e-book copy of your choice of one of her other single-author titles (You can see them listed at annabetherotica.com). Please include which e-book and format you’d like in your e-mail.

 

Giveaway:

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An Angel’s Soul (Sins of Wolves: The Safe Mountain Series) by Destiny Blaine and Marc Alice

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motorcycle handle bar against blue cloudy skyBlurb:

The Sins of Wolves bikers prepare for the fight of their lives when special teams storm their coveted home at Safe Mountain. Unable to predict the outcome of a deadly war, Chuck and Robby lead several pack members to the front lines of a battle they cannot win.

Gifted shifters of an ancient breed, Robby and Rebecca are determined to fight for their mountain habitat and the Sins of Wolves. Together they join with Chuck and his mate in hopes of pulling out all the stops and overpowering their adversaries. Still, their efforts fall short of a true victory when one of their own is killed during the first strike. Safe Mountain soon becomes ground zero as the pack faces what is destined to unfold as the beginning of a catastrophic end.

 

Buy Links

Bookstrand

All Romance Ebooks

Amazon

*****

The Age of Innocence continued to gain momentum. According to newswires, armies were closing in and a dangerous rebellion was well underway.

Death was imminent. It would deliver a damning punch. There would be no peace, no shallow death, and murder would come in its most brutal forms—torture, concentration camps, and agonizing persecution for the families harboring their young or protecting mere strangers.

A civil war would only promise a violent end to a senseless beginning. Who would stand as victors and determine the fate of The Age of Innocence? A predicted outcome was impossible but those who left the battlefields at all would indeed be considered among the strongest and perhaps deadliest of winners just by leaving the hostile grounds with their very lives.

 

Excerpt from An Angel’s Soul

What happened next unfolded like a series of events in slow motion. The red circles danced up and down, zipping from side to side, and crossing at strategic points as if to follow a specific pattern.

Laurel stared at the wall ahead now bright with fiery color. “Oh God.”

“No! Laurel!” Romy screeched. “Get down now! Chuck! Do something!”

It was too late.

Robby yelled, but his voice resonated like a reverberating deep baritone. “No!” His haunting scream echoed around them, but none of them could save her.

Chuck turned, but he couldn’t scramble to his feet in time to rescue his dear friend. Rebecca pivoted to the left and extended her arms, clearly prepared to phase and save Laurel’s life.

The shots rang out. One, then ten, then fifteen and then twenty. Pupupupow! Pupupupow!

No one could save the club’s sheep. Death’s henchman had placed its kiss of death on Laurel’s unsuspecting check.

Snipers took their marked deadly shots. And they made them count.

Laurel’s arms flew out to her sides. Her weapons dropped to the floor with a thud. Her body jerked violently as gunmen fired repetitive shots.

“No!” Chuck screamed, his face twisting into an agonized expression as Laurel fell face forward in his lap.

As if he could do something to save her, Chuck dragged her away from the window’s view, covering her head with his arms. He must’ve thought the belated protection would matter.

Laurel’s blood-soaked clothes were probably filled with over a hundred bullet holes. Captain Larry Kellogg had successfully delivered a driven point.

They never had ten minutes, not for one second. They weren’t given a real chance to surrender. This day marked the day of reckoning.

It was time for the Senator and his men to make the true heroes look like vengeful outlaws. The time for persecution was upon them. Their enemies were there with murderous intentions and the weapons to ensure they carried out their orders.

As the pendulum of war kept a tally more than time, the first point was carried down. Sins of Wolves, zero. Senator Brighton, one.

The fight till the death was on.

*****

Author Bios

Destiny Blaine is an international bestselling author writing under several award-winning pseudonyms. A full-time author for over ten years, Destiny loves writing in all genres. Her previous books have been #1 bestsellers at Bookstrand and her titles have captured #1 and #2 bestselling spots in eight different categories at Amazon. She enjoys hearing from her readers and invites them to connect on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/DestinyBlaine or visit her on the web at http://www.destinyblaine.com. If you enjoyed this series, join Destiny and the whole Safe Mountain crew at: http://sinsofwolves.blogspot.com.

Marc Alice set out on a writing journey ages ago and discovered creative freedom at Dark Hollows Press. Working on collaboration projects, Lucifer’s Lunatic and Sins of Wolves: The Safe Mountain series, Marc believes love exists at the root of goodness and evil. He enjoys writing stories where there are clear antagonists and protagonists, and finds it’s always enjoyable when the two work out their differences and reach satisfying, and sometimes intimate, conclusions.