Tag Archives: military

Out Now – Desert Heat by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #gay #mm #military

Blurb:

Their love is forbidden by rules, religion and risk. Yet still they can’t resist.

Captain Hugh Wilkes is on his last tour of duty in Afghanistan. The British Army is withdrawing, and Wilkes expects his posting to be event-free. That is, until he meets his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, who awakens desires in Wilkes that he’d almost forgotten about, and that won’t be ignored.

Please note: this book was previously published as part of the Unconditional Surrender bundle.

Buy links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself for the heat he was about to be subjected to, though he already knew all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t help. Darkness had fallen on Camp Bastion, in the notorious Helmand Province of Afghanistan, but there would still be residual warmth left to seep away throughout the small hours. Then the sun would rise, and it would start all over again. It was a damn desert, after all. But, all being well, it would be his last ever tour of the godforsaken place. The British Army was already preparing to pull out. The manpower had been reduced drastically over the previous months. It was time to leave the Afghans to get on with it. They weren’t being abandoned—far from it—they would still receive aid, training and money for years to come. But the British Army was no longer needed, apparently. It was still a volatile place, which would no doubt be monitored very closely, in case strategies needed to be reconsidered.

None of that was down to Wilkes, though. He was here with his platoon for six months, doing whatever they were ordered to do by their Company Commander, Major Hunter. It was unlikely they’d be doing any fighting—they weren’t here for offensive operations. More probably they’d be accompanying their vehicles, weapons and ammunition across the country as it was transported to the air base to be sent back home, or patrolling towns and villages as a show of presence, to reassure and protect the inhabitants.

There was only one way to find out. Grabbing his kit, he headed toward the ramp of the huge C17 aircraft with his colleagues, and followed them out onto the airstrip. Immediately, he was hit by the overwhelming smell of aviation fuel. As he moved away from the airplane this was replaced by the dry atmosphere.

Wilkes imagined he could feel the grains of sand coating his throat and tongue. He’d soon get used to it—he always did. Plus, on the bright side, he’d end up with a nice tan at the end of his deployment. Mentally, he crossed his fingers for a nice, event-free tour of duty. Letting his guard down wasn’t going to happen, naturally, he just hoped it wasn’t necessary. Hoped the insurgents would play nicely. The country was completely different to how it had been when Allied forces had gone in after 9/11. Some fantastic progress had been made, but it still wasn’t completely safe. But then, where was? People died in picturesque villages in the English countryside—though generally not courtesy of IEDs, AK-47s or suicide bombers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“Melodie?”

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

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Letters to a War Zone by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

Letters to a War ZoneBlurb:

When lonely insurance broker, Bailey, gets himself a new hobby, he ends up exchanging letters with a war zone. But he’s not expecting what happens next…

Bailey Hodgkiss is lonely and dissatisfied with his boring life as an insurance broker. In an attempt to insert some variety, he signs up to a website to write to serving soldiers. He’s put in touch with Corporal Nick Rock, and over the course of a couple of letters, the two of them strike up a friendship. They begin to divulge their secrets, including their preference for men.

Nick encourages Bailey to add more interests to his life. As a result, Bailey picks up his forgotten hobby, photography, and quickly decides to team it up with his other preferred interest, travel.

Booking a holiday to Rome is his biggest gesture towards a more exciting existence, and he eagerly looks forward to the trip. That is, until Nick says he’s coming home on leave, and it looks as though their respective trips will prevent them from meeting in person. Is there enough of a spark between them to push them to meet, or will their relationship remain on paper only?

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/letters-to-a-war-zone/

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20722128-letters-to-a-war-zone

*****

Excerpt:

After clicking all the available links on the website to find out more about it, Bailey decided to go ahead and sign up. He’d never know what it was really like unless he gave it a go.

He’d read about the site in an article somewhere, about how it linked people with serving soldiers, pilots, marines and sailors in order to write to them. It had been proven that receiving mail—even from someone they didn’t know—improved military morale. It sounded like a damn good use of time to Bailey, and it would be interesting, too.

He began typing his details into the online form. Of course, the chances were that he’d be paired up with a man, given the ratio of males to females in the forces. It didn’t matter, though. He could still exchange letters with a guy, become friends. It seemed like such an old-school way to communicate with someone, given how technology had come on over the years, but at least it was different. Perhaps it would give him something in his life to look forward to, something other than getting up, showering, going to work, coming home, eating, watching television and going to bed. The watching television—and even the eating—were occasionally replaced by nights out with friends or seeing family. Weekends were spent cleaning, washing clothes, gardening and odd jobs. Dull stuff, in other words.

He had an utterly mundane life, and Bailey knew it. It wasn’t even as if his job was exciting. Insurance broking was hardly thrilling, game-changing, or going to save the world. He didn’t expect having a pen pal to change his entire life, but it would certainly break the monotony. Hopefully.

He went through the various steps to fill in his details and create a profile, then continued right through to the information on actually writing and sending the letters. It looked straightforward enough.

His mind made up, Bailey immediately went in search of a pen, some nice paper and an envelope. Armed with a print out of exactly what to do when the letter was finished, he settled down at the kitchen table. Instantly, his mind went blank. What the fuck was he meant to say? He didn’t know any soldiers or other military personnel, didn’t know anything about their lives, other than there was a great deal more to it than shooting people and being shot at. His own existence was so fucking boring that he didn’t want to write about it. Unless there were any insomniacs in Afghanistan—telling them about his day would solve that particular condition right away.

After chewing on his biro until it broke, covering his lips and chin with ink, Bailey replaced it, resolving to try harder. He’d tell his pen pal the bare essentials about himself, then ask lots of questions about them and their work. That was bound to rustle up some conversation.

That decided, he began to write, absentmindedly swiping at his inky skin with a tissue. He’d have to scrub it off when he was done with the note. His wrist and hand had begun to ache before he was halfway down the page. He rolled his eyes. He sat on his arse at a desk all day, using a computer. As a result, even writing something short by hand was hard work! There was no way he was going to divulge that particular piece of information to someone that was willing to lay down their life to protect their country.

He just about managed to fill a single side of the A5-sized paper. And that was only because he’d formed large letters and spaced his words and lines out plenty. But he tried not to worry—at least he’d finished it, his first letter to a war zone.

He read through it carefully, relieved to find no mistakes. He’d forgotten how much more difficult—and messy—errors were on the written page. Computers let you edit and rewrite to your heart’s content. No correction fluid or crossings-out necessary.

Finally, he addressed the envelope. It felt like the longest address ever. The area and country was bad enough, even without including the soldier’s name and BFPO address. But it was done—Bailey Hodgkiss had penned a missive to Corporal Nick Rock, currently stationed at Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan.

Now he’d just have to post it and wait for a reply. The website had said his missive would take between one and three weeks to reach Corporal Rock. Then he had to allow for time for him to read it and send a reply. It could be around six weeks before he heard anything. If he heard anything at all.

*****

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, and is book editor for Cliterati. 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

Who Dares Wins by Lily Harlem (@lily_harlem)

Who Dares WinsWaiting for my SAS husband Jack to come home safe and sound is always a gut-wrenching, heart-twisting time. I have no idea where he is, what jungle swamp he may be lying out in or desert he might be marching across.

So naturally when he returns to me, our emotions can’t fail to run hot and our lust for each other cranks up to sky-high levels. But the one thing about Jack is he lives for the extreme and seizes the moment. I really should have known what would come of me telling him my wildest fantasies.

Oh, yes, he’s a guy who gets results…and when he brings home his colleague Slider, equally tough, equally rough, the pair of them can’t fail to hit the target. That target happens to be lucky old me and I head off on the ride of my life…

Reader Advisory: This book contains D/s scenes and a MMM ménage.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Totally Bound

*****

Excerpt:

It’s the dreams that are the worst when Jack is away. They start off pleasant enough—me riding a bike in the woods, a picnic spread on a blanket with the sea breeze ruffling my hair, my handsome soldier-lover talking of our plans for the future—but they always turn dark, these dreams. Before I wake there’s a plunge into blackness, an abyss, like falling from a plane without a parachute and flailing for something to hold on to—reaching out and finding nothing.

When I do wake I’m left with this gut-wrenching breathlessness, my heart is racing and my limbs are heavy. Often it’s this one section of the night that lingers with me, it’s a sensation of running but not getting anywhere, putting all of my efforts into reaching Jack, battling uneven terrain, steaming uphill, fighting enemies. But my limbs are leaden, my efforts not rewarded.

I’m standing still.

It doesn’t take a psychologist to decipher the meaning. I’m just a deputy manager of a small town garden centre and I can figure out the symbolism.

When my partner Jack is away on a mission and I’m left at home in our little Cornish cottage, I’m utterly helpless. Oh, not that I can’t get up in the morning and get on with my day. That’s fine. I’m just not part of his terrifying world. If something happens to him, then yes, they’ll tell me eventually, but not until it’s too late, not until it’s over for him. If he needed me, was shot by enemy fire, captured and tortured, I’d never know until his ordeal was history.

Until he was history.

“Morning, Ken,” Mary said, rattling a trolley of begonias past me.

I glanced up from the vegetable seed stock chart I was double-checking. “Hey, Mary. How are you?”

“Great, thanks. Busy though, boss. We’ve just had another delivery.”

I grinned. “Good, now stop slacking and go and earn your money.”

She stuck her tongue out, then smiled and carried on towards the aisle of sweetly scented border plants.

Working at Bedding Beautiful was a godsend. Not only did it take my mind off the scary times when my gorgeous Master was away on duty, it also provided me with a kind of pseudo family. Everyone knew and accepted that I was gay and that I was sometimes teetering on the edge of my nerves. They didn’t know what Jack did exactly, that was confidential information, but they knew he worked away and I was left home alone.

Stock check complete, I headed to the cold drinks machine, slipped in a coin and watched a can of Coke rattle to the bottom tray. I then grabbed a muesli bar from the shelf—I’d never have Jack’s honed physique, if anything I was a little on the skinny side—and flipped open my wallet to pay for the shop purchase.

An image of Jack stared back at me.

The Basics of Martian Seduction with @eva_lefoy #scifi #romance

WMS_blogtourThe Martians are coming. But there’s a catch. They’re not coming in flying saucers. They’re invading your pants.

Yes, your pants!

It’s kind of hard to concentrate with Martians coming in your pants!

The problem isn’t an easy one to fix, either. See, with Martians in flying saucers, you at least get to shoot them. Or try. Think of all the great alien vs. mankind movies where they’ve done just this. How about Independence Day with Will Smith? Remember that one? The aliens are big and mean and scary and there are plenty of spaceships to shoot at. In the end, mankind prevails.

But when the Martians aren’t massing an exterior attack but an inside one, who’s to help you? No, you can’t shoot yourself to get rid of the alien attacker. For one, that’s bad manners and two, you won’t like the ending. This kind of inside-your-head sneak attack is quiet, painless and can have a whole host of other endings.

  1. You can be made to attack the Mars Base. That’s what happens to Captain California Sykes, who falls under the influence.
  2. You can be turned into a Martian. Cal’s girlfriend – ex girlfriend at the start of the story – has a bit of a rough time with this. Every girl knows red hair and green skin don’t go together unless it’s Christmastime!
  3. You can be turned into a Martian mating machine! Yep! I said it. A Martian DNA magic wand of lovin’. That’s Fennik’s fate at the end of this book, and his story is coming – pun intended! – in book II.

And if you don’t think that’s bad enough, consider that Martians are dead. Long dead. We know NASA is checking over the planet quite thoroughly looking for any evidence there was once a civilization there. But why? What will they do with the evidence once they find it? If I were them, I’d stock up on condoms!

I think Martians just make everybody a little paranoid and really, who’s to blame them? They’ve got a super-powered viral DNA and a libido with more oomph than Dallas City Light. Yeah. A million watt libido really gets a guy – or girl – noticed. Sometimes, not in a good way.

 

TheTroubleWithMemoriesHere’s the blurb for The Trouble with Memories, Cal and Lucy’s story:

Helium toads!

Lieutenant Lucy Borasco has her phase pistol ready and her ex-boyfriend in her sights. She has every intention of making him pay for choosing his career over her. But she hadn’t factored in a Martian sneak invasion, Cal’s incessant need to save the universe, or the risk of permanent damage to her complexion. Getting Cal back will cost her more than she thinks, leaving her changed forever.

Captain California Sykes’ memories are gone, his career is in ruins, and his ex-girlfriend nearly kills him with a kiss. Can he overcome the Martian invasion, save the rest of the team and win Lucy back again in the process? Or will his seat-of-the-pants plans and the canned fish rations cost him everything he holds dear, including his sanity?

 

And here’s a super-smexy secret excerpt. Shhh! Don’t tell the big green dudes!

imageShe laughed and leaned back. Little by little she undid the zipper on her suit and watched Cal’s eyes for a reaction. To be honest, she hadn’t had time to explore the changes in her own body yet. She’d have to rely on Cal’s assessment to form her initial opinion.

His eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring. He arched his hips up, pressing his manhood harder against her damp sheath. Fragg, she wanted him in there, to be a part of her once more. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”

She looked down at her breasts. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra. The greenish firm globes now boasted Naobi melon-pink nipples. The contrast made them especially stand out, like succulent Ozon Prime berries. Excited, she bounced them, then pinched them between her fingers. “You like them?”

Cal groaned and sat up, capturing one with his mouth as he rolled her onto her back.

She squealed in delight, but as he sucked harder her desire fanned hotter. About to burn up, she ripped off the rest of her suit. He sat up, and she tore his off, too. “Get back here.” Hands behind his head, she pulled him down.

With his full length on top of her, their warm skin at last meeting, she still wasn’t satisfied. She bucked her hips up. “Inside me, now.”

He took himself in hand, preparing to enter her. She couldn’t wait. She took the initiative, wrapping her legs around his tailbone and pressing her hips up, snugging her entrance around his tip. With a loud cry she grasped his shoulders and lifted her pelvis, impaling herself so he slipped inside her. Her body tingled. Every sensation was new, different.

He grasped her ass and braced them both with his other arm. “Lucy,” he murmured into her neck, “you’re on fire.”

 

I hope you look forward to more Martians in your day. They’re quite charming, and they are rather fond of tea. But don’t take them home to your mother….

Eva

 

Buy Links:

Decadent  l  Amazon  l  Amazon.UK  l  AReCafe  l

 

Bio:

Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eva-Lefoy/344907072265234

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Eva_Lefoy

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/elefoy/

Blog: http://writery.wordpress.com/