Tag Archives: new release

Out Now – Something Different by Nia Farrell #erotica #menage #mfm #bdsm

SOMETHING DIFFERENT coverSOMETHING DIFFERENT (The Three Graces Book Two) is a standalone MFM ménage BDSM rock star erotic romance by Nia Farrell.  Only $2.99 for a potty mouthed gamer girl and triple platinum indie artists who are about to rock her world.

 

REVIEWERS:

“Sexy and sultry”  “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.” “Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”

 

BLURB:

Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate.  Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways.  No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner, Anna’s alter ego AJ McPherson.  From the first, it’s clear that the triple-platinum indie rock stars want more than her music, but does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twin brothers who perform as No Mercy?

 

Buy links to Something Different:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes and Noble | Allromance | BookStrand | Smashwords | Dark Hollows Press | Goodreads

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The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell

SOMETHING ELSE August 25, 2015

SOMETHING DIFFERENT September 29, 2015

SOMETHING MORE October 15, 2015

from Dark Hollows Press

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Excerpt:

They’re staring now, trying to reconcile reality with my stage name and with how I look in the cheesy publicity photo I use, shot four years ago when I turned eighteen and my mother wanted the whole glamour thing captured for posterity. She’s never forgiven me for refusing to let them tease and torture my hair. In the shot, I’m looking over my shoulder like I’m caught in a fucking daydream, while my thick, straight hair drapes my back like a black silk curtain.

I wear my hair shorter now, streaked with red and purple. Those splashes of color and my asymmetrical cut keep it well this side of boring.

My eyes, on the other hand, are the same. Unlike my hair, they wouldn’t improve with the enhancement of colored contacts. They’re purple. Fucking Liz Taylor purple–one of those anomalies of nature that my mother can’t explain. Hell, I’ve caught my dad looking at me sideways, like I might be the spawn of an incubus, ‘cause there’s no way that I belong to the Chinese-born mail man. I guess my wild ways haven’t given him any peace of mind, either. Shit, when I met Grace, she didn’t screw, didn’t swear. Now she goes to bed with two strapping men every night and has a mouth that could make a biker blush. As far as I’m concerned, my corruption of her is complete.

Right now, she’s staying blessedly silent. The Thomason twins are, too.

When the intensity of their stares shifts from kind of rude to downright disconcerting, I’m tempted to stick out my tongue and tease them with the surgical steel ball I’ve sported since I turned twenty-one last year. Right now Jacob’s looking at the diamond stud adorning my left nostril, and Jackson’s staring at my C-cup breasts, his own nostrils flaring as my responsive nipples tighten to hardened nubs.

Enough of this shit.

“Guys.” I drop my voice to a husky whisper that could earn six figures at a 900 number. “I might use an outdated picture to throw people off, but my eyes–they’re fucking purple, for Christ’s sake.”

Yep, the eyes have it. Recognizing them, both men sit straighter and exchange a look that makes excitement thrum in my veins. They’re here to see Nico, but why? I remind myself to breathe, tell myself to slow down before my imagination runs too wild. They wouldn’t be the first major artists wanting to lay tracks with the American Indian artist and his native flutes.

“So…AJ–Anna James.” Jackson says it likes he’s tasting my name, tasting me.

I swear my pussy’s gushing. Okay, so they might not have come looking for me, but they know my work. They’re big fish in my small pond, and their recognition means everything to someone like me.

“Yes, but please, guys, call me Anna. Jax. Jake.”

Recognizing them as individuals, and not just as No Mercy, earns me a brownie point. I rack up more for not going all fangirl on them.

“You work with Nico White. Motherfucker.” Jackson eyes his brother, then turns back to Grace. “Nico’s expecting us at eight. I suppose we’ll see you both then?”

Eight? Shit. That’s–

“You’ll see more of Anna,” Grace tells them. “I make myself scarce on music writing night. The energy’s too intense for me.”

I’ve suspected as much, but the lake where she lives with her lovers is really conducive to creativity. So, rather than meet at the apartment I rent above a vintage storefront on Main Street or somewhere else, Nico and I have our songwriting sessions at their house. Grace, bless her, doesn’t complain, since it means she gets to have some alone-time with J.T., the half-Puerto Rican member of their threesome.

While Grace starts a review of local businesses that would make a Chamber of Commerce proud, I’m thinking of tonight. I might be working with these two men, writing for them. Fuck, maybe we’ll be writing with them. The possibility makes me wet. I know how Nico and I work. Our collaborations are so natural, so organic. We’re comfortable with each other.

These two make me anything but.

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Author Nia FarrellAUTHOR BIO:

Nia Farrell has been writing for pleasure since junior high. Now that she writes about pleasure, she can share the fantasy worlds she visits and introduce readers to characters who remain with her long after their tales are told.

When crafting a story, Nia draws upon a rich diversity of life experiences, which include singer/songwriter, prize winning needle artist, private pilot, Reiki Master/Teacher, crystal healer, psychic fair reader, jewelry maker, physician’s assistant, factory worker, waitress, genealogist, period reenactor, and children’s author. If this life isn’t enough, there are plenty of others to choose from. Otherwise, she devotes hours of research to subjects outside her realm, determined that her stories ring true.

Nia lives on a farm in Southern Illinois (far, far from Chicago, in the heart of “Little Egypt”). A seventh generation Illinoisan, she is descended from Mayflower Pilgrims, American soldiers from the Revolutionary War to World War II, and Scottish nobility. She enjoys playing in the past and visits Ren fairs and historical reenactments in period attire, sharing her love of history and her passion for music. While her husband and two grown daughters may only read her nonfiction work, she appreciates their support in pursuing her dreams, one of which is being published in erotic romance.

Nia Farrell’s Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/?q=#/pages/Author-Nia-Farrell/1678898589004941?ref=bookmarks

Nia Farrell’s Tumblr page http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/

Nia Farrell’s Twitter page https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Amazon page http://www.amazon.com/Nia-Farrell/e/B014HAAWLK/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1441506277&sr=1-2-ent

Nia Farrell’s Author page at Dark Hollows Press http://www.darkhollowspress.com/#!nia-farrell/c1mop

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New Release – Girls Will Be Girls by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #lesbian #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

Girls Will Be GirlsBlurb:

Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection contains a variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: http://mybook.to/girlswillbegirls (universal Amazon link)

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26218151-girls-will-be-girls

*****

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Excerpt:

She was now mere inches away, but the thickness of the bushes meant she could still only see the boots and now a bit more of the green trousers. Stepping onto the mud, she crouched down beside the feet, carefully pushing the foliage aside so she could see what the hell was going on, and figure out what she was going to do about it.

The view opened up, and Verity, far from seeing a helpless person lying on the soil, was presented with a green-clad arse reversing hurriedly in her direction!

“Hey!” she said, letting go of the branches and shifting back so abruptly she ended up on her own arse on the grass. “Be careful! Are you all right?”

As the body continued emerging, Verity slowly came to realise her mistake. Dirt-covered trousers, a filthy black waterproof coat, gloved hands, and a head topped with a floppy hat were soon visible. Slim white cables trailing from each ear and disappearing into the collar of the coat explained why she hadn’t been heard calling out, or received a response.

This woman hadn’t hurt herself. She was a fucking gardener!

Frozen in her uncomfortable position, Verity wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Perhaps as revenge for her landing on it so hard. But she had no such luck. Instead, she heard, “What on earth are you doing down there? Are you all right?”

Struck dumb, Verity nodded and took the now glove-free hand that was offered to her, allowing the other woman to pull her up off the grass. “I—I’m fine,” she finally forced out, breaking the brief eye contact and making a show of brushing herself down, though it was probably only her bottom that was dirty. Her cheeks blazed, and she took a step back, hoping to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’m glad. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there.” The ear buds now hung down the woman’s front, and she was apparently poised, awaiting a reply.

Verity shook her head. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Narrowing her eyes, the gardener said, “Try me.”

Christ. Just to add insult to injury, it seemed she was now suspected of some kind of wrongdoing, too! “I—I was over there,” she pointed to where she’d come from, “and I saw your wellies poking out from the bushes. I panicked because I thought someone had fallen and hurt themselves. I came over to try and help. I did call out to you, to see if you were all right. But all I could see was the boots and a little bit of your trousers. I had no idea what was going on. Much less that you were the bloody gardener and remained oblivious to what I was up to because you had headphones in! I crouched down and pushed the bushes aside so I could see you better, and the next thing I know you’re shuffling back towards me. I shifted out of the way and ended up tumbling over on my bum.”

It seemed her story was too amusing to be anything but true, because the gardener grinned widely, then clapped a hand over her mouth momentarily. “I’m so sorry,” she then said, “I didn’t hear you, honestly. But I guess I can see why you thought that. Thank you so much for coming to check on me, but it really wasn’t necessary. All I was doing was fighting with a particularly vicious weed.” She pointed down to an uprooted plant at her feet, then widened her eyes. “Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Twisting to try and look at her bottom, Verity brushed again at the seat of her jeans. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit of muck and grass stains, I think. Nothing that won’t come out in the washing machine.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I feel bad enough as it is without thinking you’ve hurt yourself or ruined your clothes, too.”

“No, I’m good. And I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Then Verity took another step back. “Right, well, I’d better get going, anyway. Nice to meet you.” She turned to go, but the other woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, wait. No need to rush off. I’m just about to go on my tea break. Want to join me? Perhaps a brew will make up for it?” Her green eyes—apt, for a gardener, Verity thought—sparkled with humour and intelligence, and for the first time, Verity realised that, underneath the grubby gardening gear and large hat was a very attractive woman.

Still, an excuse was on the tip of her tongue—she had come here to be alone, after all—but fate intervened. Or the British weather did, anyway. A handful of fat raindrops fell onto her, followed by a few more. Then, the heavens truly opened.

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*****

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

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Rebecca Black Talks about Her New Release, LET’S RIDE!

Hello!

Thanks for having me today so I can give my new book Let’s Ride a shout out.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I really love a good, quick read. Busy lives often don’t leave as much time as we’d like for reading, do they? I’m not always so bothered about the backstory, I just want to live vicariously for a moment through the characters as they experience that first rush of lust and desire in a new relationship – I want to get a little hot and tingly 😉

Well Evernight’s Romance on the Go range is all about fulfilling this reading need and my new release Let’s Ride is a part of that.

 

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Let’s Ride started life as an erotic short that I wrote for Masturbation Monday (a meme that I write for most weeks). I saw a black and white photograph of this gorgeous, androgynous woman sat on a kick ass motorbike in just a pair of knickers and this piece of flash fiction just fired out of me. Talk about inspiration!

She looked like she wouldn’t take any crap and she looked very capable of sweeping someone off their feet. It got a lot of great feedback so I decided to extend it and lucky for me, Evernight liked it too.

I’ve read some great books with well written dominant male characters, both straight and gay, but I really wanted to write a recognisable archetype with a twist. There isn’t one good reason on this earth why the hero has to be male. Let’s Ride completely rejects that assumption. Jo is confident, self-assured and has a dominant streak a mile wide, but she’s also a beautiful woman, inside and out. She rides into town and sweeps Mary-Beth right off her feet and into her bed. I love her (I know I’m not supposed to say that because I wrote her, but I really do!) and I hope you do too.

 

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Let’s Ride Blurb:

“I would do just about anything to be on the back of that bike when she leaves this place.”

Trapped in a small town life, Mary-Beth always knew there was something better out there. Then Jo rides into town and walks straight into the diner where she works. Sexy, dominant and self-assured, Jo is everything Mary-Beth wishes she could be. Their hot, intense meeting crashes through Mary-Beth’s small world and offers her the promise of a new start.

Will Mary-Beth leave everything behind and ride with Jo towards the chance of a new life?

 

Let’s Ride Excerpt:

Standing by the window, I’m trying to take a lunch time customer’s order but my attention is caught by a bike riding into the gas pump out front.

I hold my breath. She is pretty much everything that I wish I could be. Tall and lean. Enough fuck you attitude to tame a horde of marauding Vikings. She straddles that bike like she was born to it, like she never rode a trike. Like she just stepped right onto all that horsepower and with a flick of her wrists rode off into the sunset, giving everyone the finger as she went.

I would do just about anything to be on the back of that bike when she leaves this place.

She kicks the stand and moves the bike smoothly into its stationary position, slinging her long leg over the back wheel.

I jump a little when our eyes meet through the window. I’m supposed to be taking this guy’s order but I got distracted, seriously distracted. She smirks when her eyes roam over the redness in my cheeks.

Heat has suffused my body; a fine sweat has broken out on my skin and I know I’m in trouble. So much trouble.

I manage to scramble my brain sufficiently to take his order and drop it off at the kitchen. Moving around the bar, I grab the coffee pot to do refills. I can’t stop looking at the door.

Will she come in? Or has she just come for gas?

Please let her come in.

I want to see her up close—I want to see her eyes—that flawless skin. I want to run my fingers over the black shaved hair on the sides of her head, run them through the longer top that she has greased back. I want to watch her eyes close with the pleasure of it.

I hold my nerve when I hear the bell ring over the door. I’m pouring coffee—it really wouldn’t do to spill it and burn a customer. I’m bent over slightly to reach the cup, and my skirt brushes against the back of my legs when she walks past me.

I smile distractedly as the customer thanks me, turning my head to see she has taken a seat at the bar.

Walking over on shaky legs, I smooth my damp palms down the front of my uniform apron.

She sits tall, resting her elbows on the counter. Her legs are open, one heel of her heavy black boots hooked higher on the stool than the other. Her jeans are tight, riding low on slim hips, well worn with a small rip over one knee. A tight white t-shirt stops a few inches from the waistband of her jeans, showing smooth lightly tanned skin that I desperately want to touch.

Her knowing gaze follows me as I move around the bar to face her. I can almost feel a pressure on my skin where it touches me.

“What can I get for you?”

“What have you got?” she asks in a low, husky voice. Her eyes lock on mine. Her eyebrows are like a raven’s wings, perfectly shaped, drawing my attention across her arresting face.

“Pretty much anything, as long as it’s deep fried and unhealthy,” I say wryly.

She laughs. The sound is low and rough and strokes over my nipples.

“Always tastes good, though, don’t it?” she replies. That smirk plays across her mouth again as her gaze drops to my lips. “I’ll just take a coffee for now. Think I’ll get something sweet in a little while…”

 

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Thanks for reading!

Purchase Let’s Ride Here:

Evernight | Amazon | All Romance | Bookstrand

 

About Rebecca Black:

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Rebecca Black is a Yorkshire girl born and bred. She is first and foremost a voracious reader and lately an author of erotica and erotic romance. She believes that the hottest sex scenes are the ones where emotions are involved (plus lots of dirty talk, lots of spanking, licking and sucking and well… you get the idea). She is the author of A Taste For Three (m/m/f) from Evernight and has several short stories due to be released in erotic anthologies. Rebecca is a regular contributor to the fantastic Cliterati magazine.

 

Find Rebecca here:

Twitter | Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Tumblr | Goodreads |

 

 

Happy Release Day! Shopping for a CEO (Shopping for a Billionaire series Book 7) by Julia Kent now available

Shopping for a CEOBlurb

I’m thrilled to be the maid of honor in my friend’s wedding, but the best man, Andrew McCormick, is a chauvinistic pig with a God complex.

And I can’t stop kissing him in closets.

(Don’t ask.)

He’s the brother of the groom and the CEO of my biggest mystery shopping account, but suddenly he’s refusing to be in the wedding. He won’t talk about it. Won’t see reason.

He’s such a man.

And he still won’t stop kissing me in random closets.

(Thank goodness.)

I’m a fixer. That’s what I do. I can fix anything if given the chance. But when the game is fixed there’s only so much I can do.

The ball’s in his court now.

Game on.

* * *

Shopping for a CEO is the 7th book in the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Shopping series. When CEO Andrew McCormick and mystery shopper Amanda Warrick find themselves in the unlikely position as maid of honor and best man in the Boston society wedding of the year, an undeniable attraction and dual stubborn streaks add fuel to the fire in this romantic comedy from Julia Kent.

 

Buy links

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MyMNVv
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1HDYXsO
iBooks: http://apple.co/1BTcs5l
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/1IaHf5I
Print: http://amzn.to/1M1Zc3W
BN: http://bit.ly/1fR0CV9
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1OkyPaX
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1J5zEV6

 

Excerpt

“Will the guys go commando?” Marie calls out. “True highlanders don’t wear underwear.”

“The wedding is in July, Mom,” Amy calls back. “In Massachusetts. If you’re going to make all those men wear wool kilts and socks, they’ll probably gratefully go without underwear just to prevent heat exhaustion.”

Marie nods. “Good point.”

“But then there’s the issue of ball sweat,” Amy adds.

Marie frowns and jots down notes on a sticky pad. “Ball sweat? That’s a real thing?”

Amy nods. “They make a special product for it.”

“There’s a product to cure ball sweat? Balls have sweat glands? Where do they hide the pores? And how do you know this?”

“Venture capital project at my internship. They’re coming out with a new product for breast sweat.”

“Now that I know about first hand,” Marie says with a knowing nod. “Breasts do more work than people appreciate. The Girls work up a sweat on a regular basis.”

Considering the fact that Marie hasn’t been pregnant or breastfed in well over two decades, I don’t really want to know what kind of ‘work’ her chest girls have been up to.

Shannon walks in. Chuckles runs to cuddle with her ankles, then rubs his butthole all over her calf.

“Hi to you too, Chuckles. That’s exactly how Declan greets me most nights.”

“Ewwwww,” Amy says, plugging her ears. “I hear enough about Mom’s sex life. Don’t need to know more about yours.”

“Honey, does Declan have a problem with ball sweat?”

“Huh?” Shannon gives Amy an evil look. “What have you been telling her?”

“Amy says the groom and groomsmen will need testicle powder if I ask them to go commando for the wedding.”

“Testicle powder? Is that going to be a wedding favor?”

“Do they make such a thing?” Marie asks, interest piqued.

“Sure,” Amy says. “Personalized bottles and everything. Think of the possibilities. Shannon and Declan, Dry Forever, with the date stamped on there and a logo of a dove. People will forever associate your wedding with smooth sacs.”

 

releaseblitzbutton_shoppingforaceoAuthor bio and web/social media links

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor@gmail.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor . Visit her website at JKentAuthor.com.

Website: http://www.jkentauthor.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jkentauthor

Newsletter: https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/p5h7j7

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jkentauthor/shannons-sane-wedding-planning-board/

https://www.pinterest.com/jkentauthor/maries-scottish-themed-wedding-board-for-shannon-a/

What’s your Secret Desire? – Secret Desire by Jan Graham (@jan_graham)

Secret DesireBlurb

When Jake Munroe moves into his new apartment he has no idea the woman of his dreams is literally right next door. She’s beautiful, sexy, and frustratingly elusive. Finding the right time to make his move seems like it will never come, until she walks through the doors of his nightclub.

Sally isn’t looking for a new relationship but when Jake appears in her life, she grabs the opportunity to partake in some sexual healing. Her ex-husband left her convinced she could never sexually excite or satisfy a man, but those rule don’t seem to apply to Jake. He wants her—at least for now.

Desire rules us all and Jake’s desire for Sally is unequalled to anything he’s experienced before. He wants her in his life and is determined to have her, no matter what it takes. When he thinks he’s finally made Sally his own, he discovers a horrible truth. Sally has kept their relationship hidden from everyone she knows and Jake refuses to be anyone’s secret plaything.

Buy links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon AU

Smashwords

Also available from iTunes, Barnes and Noble, Nook, and Kobo, just type in the book or author name to acquire the listing.

hard and fast

Excerpt

Something icy cold pressed against Sally’s arm and she felt another chill run through her. She raised her head and stared at the large glass of water in front of her.

“You’re probably dehydrated. You hardly stopped dancing all night.” The deep, smooth voice washed over her, causing her body to begin to heat once more.

Sally turned her head toward the warmth and when she finally managed to focus her eyes, she wanted to moan in ecstasy. If there really was a God then he had truly out done himself. The man smiling down at her was perfection. He sat on the bar stool next to her, leaning against the wall. His hair was dark, almost black and hung just below his broad shoulders in long tantalizing waves. It sat brushed back from his face at the front, except for one stray curly strand that had worked its way loose to kiss up against his cheekbone.

His eyes were dark like his hair and conveyed the same warmth as his voice. His lips were thick and lush, ideal for kissing. As her gaze roamed down his body, she was taken by the hard chest and abs that were defined under his tight T-shirt, his legs were a lengthy example of perfection, muscular thighs under dark denim, and a bulge—Sally snapped her eyes back to his face and hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Drink.” He leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear.

Oh, how could a man smell so divine? She had never smelt a man like him before. Sally’s pussy started to tingle, as he watched her bring the glass to her lips, and take a refreshing drink. She inhaled deeply. Accents of cinnamon and spice tantalized her nostrils. Talk about olfactory heaven.

“I just thought I’d sit here while I waited for my friends.” Sally had no idea why she felt the need to explain her presence to him and couldn’t understand why he looked at her with a wry smile as she spoke.

“I think they’ve left.” He gestured toward the dance floor.

“Oh God, I fell asleep didn’t I?” Sally was horrified once she realized the house lights were on and the dance floor empty. In fact the whole club was empty except for a few bar staff who were cleaning up.

“We cleared everyone out and closed the club about forty minutes ago.” He was smiling at her as he spoke. “You looked so peaceful I thought I’d let you sleep until I was ready to leave.”

Sally gasped when his body brushed against hers as he bent forward, a blaze of heat stroking her body where he touched. She noticed how his gaze roamed along her stockinged legs as he bent to pick up her shoes. As he returned to an upright position, his lips brushed against her leg and he planted a kiss on the lace that sat mid-thigh. She wanted to move, to push her wayward hemline back in place. Instead she just stared at the heated point where his lips had been, feeling the warmth spread upward toward her quickly moistening pussy.

“Nice stockings.” He stated as he took her hand and assisted her in stepping down from the stool. Sally wasn’t sure how she did it, but she managed to pull the hem of her dress back into position as he led her through a door and down a hallway to the club’s back entrance.

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About the Author

Writing a bio that lets readers know who you are is tricky at times because I describe myself in so many ways. Like my books, I fall into different genres, all of which depend on my mood and inspiration at the time. I am a writer, a submissive, an orphan, a widow, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and sometimes, a wild child.

I live in Australia and writing is my passion, although finding the time to do it on a consistent basis is always a challenge for me. Life sends you curve balls when least expected them and I’ve had my fair share over the last few of years.

My writing currently falls under a variety of genres including BDSM, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense but who knows where my literary future will lead. That’s going to be the next exciting chapter of my life.

releaseblitzbutton_secretdesireMore information about what I’m up to, and general nonsense, is available by checking out my online hangouts.

Website

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