Sunday, 28 February 2016

Sweet Couples Erotica Romance with Storm Chase on Kindle Unlimited

When Master Byron makes a pass at Charlotte the housemaid, and some unexpected visitors turn up, the cupboard beckons. A sweet erotica romance short story.


Lady Charlotte, the only daughter of Henry de Maine, Count of Summerville, is a law onto herself.Unlike the other gently bred maidens of Plantagenet England, Lady Charlotte does exactly what she wants, when she wants. She also has a reputation for rejecting suitors. However, when Lady Charlotte meets Sir Byron, the gallant knight just returned from the Crusades, she may have met her match…

Charlotte loves her part time job as stringer but yearns to be a full time journalist. When her boss tells her the promotion hangs on interviewing the famous musher Byron Keenainak, Charlotte is determined to deliver the story. There’s only one problem: Byron is a notorious recluse. Undaunted, Charlotte resorts to every trick in the book to trap and interview her handsome quarry. 


Friday, 26 February 2016

Deadly Betrayal by Lee Anne Jones

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Synopsis
Country music star January Winters knew the rise to fame would be hard. She never expected her arrival to be met with danger. But when a stalker’s attempts go from creepy to deadly, even the fearlessly independent Jan gives into her producer’s demands that they hire a bodyguard. But that was before she realized who would be guarding her body…
A knee injury might have ruined his football career, but it didn’t stop Dino Machiavelli from becoming the best bodyguard in Vegas. He can literally pick and choose his assignments—and he never picks guarding diva celebrities. At least not until his boss makes one assignment impossible for him to refuse and he finds himself too close for comfort with the one girl that ripped out his heart fifteen years ago.
When the stalker’s actions escalate, Dino and Jan fight their sizzling attraction as they come to the shocking realization that the stalker may be closer to Jan the either of them ever imagined. And it might be too late to show each other their love again with a maniac intent on murder.
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AboutTheAuthor
Lee Anne Jones is the more romantic alter-ego of USA Today Bestselling Author Leighann Dobbs. As Jones, she writes heart thudding romantic suspense guaranteed to keep you up all night.
She lives in the lakes region of New Hampshire with her fishing obsessed husband, her feisty and loyal chihuahua and a cat that thinks she's the boss.
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Thursday, 18 February 2016

Our Man Friday by Claire Thompson

M/M/F ménage - What’s the old adage—sex ruins friendship? When best friends Cassidy and Ian give in to their conflicted passion, Ian pulls back. Cassidy, heart breaking, lets him. Enter Kye McClellan, the sexy Scotsman who heats things up to the boiling point. The sex is scorching hot, but can three hearts truly beat as one?
Cassidy fights the lingering feelings for her ex, Ian. Still secretly, desperately in love with him, she settles for sharing a house and a business. Their lives are intertwined in every way--except the way she wants most.
Fear of commitment drove Ian to push their romance into the friendship zone. But things become decidedly uncomfortable when sexy Scotsman Kye McClellan enters the picture. Ian is faced with the sudden prospect of losing the thing most precious to him.
As both Cassidy and Ian succumb to Kyes charms, Cassidy begins to wonder if she can have all she's ever wanted...plus one. Then, just as things get white-hot, Kyes takes to his feet to avoid the burn. Ian and Cassidy are left with each other...and an even bigger missing piece than before. All they can do is trust that love will somehow bring their gypsy-hearted lover home again.
 

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Excerpt

 
She looked down at his large hand covering hers. Her arm tingled as she imagined him sliding those fingers along her skin, moving upward toward her shoulder. Her nipples were erect and probably showing through the thin material of her lacey bra and tank top. She pulled her hand from beneath his and crossed her arms over her chest.
She thought suddenly about the condition of the house, about the disarray in the huge living room they’d commandeered for Ian’s studio and her work area. They were both so focused on getting the business up and running, neither had the time nor the inclination to do much housekeeping. Despite their best intentions, though most of the boxes were unpacked, pictures had yet to be hung and there were no curtains on the windows.
Oh well. There were worse things than a messy house. Somehow she didn’t think Kye would mind too much. The spare bedroom was clean. It just needed sheets on the bed.
Though she hadn’t intended to pry, she found herself saying, “So it was an amiable split? No broken hearts?”
Kye shrugged. “Maybe cracked a bit. In retrospect, I guess it was just one of those flings—you know, you connect with people when you’re traveling in a more immediate way than you would otherwise. Sometimes when people return to their home turf, they realize they were just kidding themselves. They return to ‘the real world’, I guess you’d say. I apparently was not part of that real world.”
He looked so sad she wanted to lean over and hold him. Why were things always such a mess when it came to relationships? Inwardly she sighed, thinking of her own confusion and longing when it came to love. Aloud she said, “Was she American?”
“Actually it wasn’t a she,” Kye answered, his cheeks dimpling. “It was a guy.”
Gay? Had she misread his cues, comments and body language so completely? Cassidy’s stunned reaction must have shown on her face. “Not what you were expecting to hear, I’m guessing?”
“No, it’s not that, I mean, well, yes.” Cassidy struggled to recover. “I usually have a pretty good read on that sort of thing.”
Kye again put his hand over hers, his touch warm and firm. “Your read was quite accurate. It just so happens I’m attracted to men as well. That’s not so unusual, is it? You give me the impression of someone who’s open-minded about such things.”
“Yeah. I’m totally cool with it.” In fact she wasn’t sure what she was with it, at least in regard to him. What was her problem? Had she already planned to seduce the guy, when on the surface they had only bartered business advice for a bed?
Yeah, she admitted, she had. She could almost feel his hard, strong body covering hers, her nipples mashed beneath his chest, her sex soaked with desire as he eased himself into her heat…
Kye shook her out of her mini-fantasy. “Would you like another beer?”
Forcing the fantasy from her mind, Cassidy glanced at her watch. It was already after eight. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. Say, have you had dinner yet?” When he shook his head no, she continued. “I was going to stop and pick up some tamales. Then I could take you home and introduce you to Ian.”
“Sounds like a plan, though I have no idea what tamales are.”
Cassidy grinned. “Then you’re in for a treat. Do you want to follow me?”
“I’d have to run awfully fast, I’m afraid. I have no car.”
“No car in Houston? How do you get around?”
“I’ve only been here a few weeks. Until today I didn’t need one.”
Cassidy sensed the subject was a sore one. “No problem. You can come with me.”
As they left the bar, Cassidy could feel the eyes of some of the regulars on her. She waved toward some gay friends of hers, George and Paul, who waved back. George, who was always telling her what a great catch Ian was and how foolish she was not to ensnare him, lifted a thumb approvingly into the air. She fervently hoped Kye hadn’t seen the gesture.
Kye put his few possessions in the back of Cassidy’s car and climbed into the passenger seat beside her as she started the engine. She pulled out of the parking lot, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. Picking up a stranger, taking him in her car, bringing him home to Ian? Was she certifiably insane? Yet she didn’t feel panicked, nor did she really question the decision, though admittedly it wasn’t like her to bring someone she’d just met home. Instinctively she knew she could trust this man. There was something about him that put her at ease, once she got past his devastatingly good looks.
They picked up tamales, enchiladas and refritos, and a six-pack of beer to go with it, before heading home. Kye insisted on paying.
Cassidy pulled into the driveway of the old house, with its sagging wrap-around porch and small yard, the grass of which was in desperate need of cutting, bright yellow dandelions peeking here and there through the green. She was embarrassed at the place’s bedraggled appearance.
She turned to offer her excuses, but Kye beat her to it. “What a fantastic old house. I love all the turrets and towers. This must be one of the older houses in Houston. This is really yours?”
The admiration was evident in his voice, and Cassidy’s embarrassment was replaced, or at least mitigated, by pride. “Yeah. Well, the mortgage is ours.” She flashed a rueful grin. “It was a foreclosure and we got it for an incredible deal. It’s still a hefty monthly payment though. Sometimes I think we rushed into it.”
“This house will return its investment tenfold, you can count on it. You made the right decision. It’s a sound old place, I’m willing to bet. A few nails and a bit of paint will smarten it up nicely. Have you got a lawn mower?”
“Yes, though I guess you wouldn’t know it from the looks of the lawn. That’s Ian’s job but he’s been so busy…”
“That I can well understand. Perhaps in the morning I can give the yard a quick mow. I wouldn’t mind a bit. I like to be occupied.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you—”
“And nor did you. I offered.”
They climbed out of the car and walked to the front door. She opened the door, calling, “Hi, Ian. I’m back. I brought Mexican food and a new friend. Come out and meet him.” She held her breath, waiting for Ian to appear. What was she nervous about? Kye wasn’t her date, and anyway she didn’t need Ian’s permission to bring someone home.
After a moment Ian came into the large front hall, running his hands through his short blond hair so that it stood on end, making him look like he’d just woken up. It was a habit he had when he had been concentrating on something for a long time and was trying to return to the world, as he termed it. She had always found the gesture endearing, and her heart lurched at the sight of him.
“Ian. This is Kye McClellan. He’s visiting from Scotland.”
A flicker of a scowl crossed Ian’s face though it was quickly replaced by a pleasant smile. They moved toward one another and shook hands. She knew Ian was wondering if the term friend was code for lover.

About The Author

I've been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don't create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don't want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.
 

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Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Two to Wrangle by Victoria Vane

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TWO TO WRANGLE (HOTEL RODEO #2) BY VICTORIA VANE


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A COUNTRY BOY...Maybe having a hot and heavy affair with the boss’s daughter wasn’t the smartest move. But Ty Morgan didn’t regret a moment with city girl Monica Brandt…until she left Las Vegas to return to her life in New York.  When devastating news sends her running back, Ty can’t help but open his arms.  His heart, however, is another matter.
AND A CITY GIRL...Now that Ty has what he’s always wanted—controlling interest in Hotel Rodeo—Monica is certain their time together is at an end—until Ty asks her to come on board as a partner.  Maybe it’s just her money he needs, but the chance to stick close to the sexy wrangler sure could make work a whole lot more interesting.
GET READY TO TANGO.. Their partnership doesn’t come without a heap of problems. The two can’t agree on anything—except their iron-hot attraction.  As the hotel’s grand opening approaches, the truth is all too clear: Ty and Monica must find a way to mix business with pleasure if they have any shot at dancing off into the sunset together…
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TWO TO WRANGLE EXCERPT

“Do you have some kind of wrap or shawl you could wear with that dress?” Ty asked, wanting a moment to set things straight for the intruding asshole. “You might get cold later in such a little bitty dress.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll look for something,” Monica replied.
“Sure thing, Sugar.”
Evan scowled at the pet name.
Both men watched her departing ass. Hot damn that dress was about to give him a heart attack. “You’d best stop looking at her like that. And I better never see your hands on her again either,” Ty murmured with a smile.
“She’s way out of your league, cowboy.”
“Is she now?” Ty remarked, stretching his smile.
“Are you actually implying she dumped me for you?” Evan asked with a snort.
“Apparently she knows a good thing when she see’s it. You didn’t.” Ty shrugged. “Guess that means I win. You lose.”
“Who says the game’s over?” Evan replied. “I never lose, cowboy. I’ve got more money and more influence than you could ever imagine. I always get what I want.”
“Is that right, Evan?” Monica stood in the doorway, wrap around her shoulders and bag in hand. “Did I just interrupt some kind of pissing contest? If so, I can end it now.” She looked from one man to the other, and then added with a smile, “For the record, Evan, Ty’s is bigger.”
***
“You’re welcome, Ty,” Monica replied tightly as they exited the hotel.
“I know you meant well, but that was emasculating as hell.”
“For you or for him?” she asked with a laugh. “You came out the clear winner.”
“That’s not the point. I didn’t want or need your interference, Monica,” he grumbled. “I can handle arrogant assholes like that. Been doing it my whole life.”
“So what did you expect me to do? Stand there and let him insult you? The way you two were eyeballing each other, I was beginning to think I might see some blood.”
“I doubt it would have come to that,” he said.
“So it was all just ridiculous male posturing?”
“Pretty much,” he confessed.
“He really does have more money and influence than you, Ty,” Monica said. “He made Forbes Top 100 mogul list just last year. There’s no way you could ever top him in anything related to business, but you are in fact much better endowed. That shut him right down, didn’t it?”
“Sure did. He may never get it up again.” He signaled the limo. “I miss my damned truck.”
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Other Books In the Series:

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PRE-ORDER BUY LINKS:

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About The Author

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Victoria Vane is a #1 best selling author of of smart and sexy contemporary Western romance and an award-winning author of erotic historical romance. Her books have received more than twenty awards and nominations to include the 2014 RONE Award for Treacherous Temptations and Library Journal Best E-Book romance of 2012 for The Devil DeVere series. Look for her scorching hot Hotel Rodeo series coming from Kensington/Lyrical Shine early 2016.
Contact info:
Email: victoria.vane@hotmail.com
Twitter: @authorvictoriav

Friday, 12 February 2016

Fatal Submission by Nicole Austin


Fatal Submission
By Nicole Austin





On edge, body humming with arousal, Claire aches to have her desires sated. And ruggedly handsome Dominant Mason Burke is the man she wants. But for Mason work comes first and Claire’s tired of waiting.

Mason’s loss is Dr. Carl Skinner’s lucky break. The bonus—Carl’s a rich, drop-dead gorgeous Dom with a real dungeon in his basement.

Getting what you want isn’t always a good thing and the game takes a drastic turn Claire never saw coming. According to the Dungeon Master’s victims who still haunt his torture chamber, submission has fatal consequences and she’s running out of time.

Note: This scary tale contains graphic scenes of erotic torture and violence that may cause the reader to stay up late reading with all the lights on. 

*This previously published title has been re-edited.*





Excerpt from Fatal Submission

Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2016

Ever the gentleman, Carl held the door and allowed her to precede him down the stairs.
Second thoughts stopped her for only a few seconds before stepping through the strange entryway. Nothing ventured…
With her heels clicking on the wooden steps she couldn’t be certain, but Claire thought she’d heard the soft snick of a lock being engaged. Every hair on her body stood on end and her muscles tensed.
Why the hell would he lock the door? Weren’t they alone in the house? If she ran back up the stairs and turned the knob, would it open?
Taking a deep breath, she descended the stairs and shoved her crazy fears aside. She’d gone into this with her eyes open and she would not freak out. Carl was a Dom. Her Dom—at least for tonight. If she went into this without trust, limiting her submission, they might as well not even bother.
When she safely cleared the last step, she lifted her gaze and looked around the room in awe.
An actual dungeon.
Heat washed through her body as her nipples puckered and her panties grew damp. Lord, she felt as if she’d waited her whole life to submit in a real dungeon
Gray cinderblock walls and cement foundation. Track lighting fixtures on the ceiling cast a soft glow yet left areas in shadow. A pegboard held a wide variety of floggers, whips, crops and paddles. There against one wall was a strange chair with a padded V-shaped seat to spread the legs open and leather cuffs attached in strategic locations. She noted the familiar shape of a St. Andrew’s Cross looming in the shadows next to an ancient-looking stockade. The dungeon was well-stocked with various padded tables and spanking benches, each one equipped with built-in restraints.
A small part of Claire hadn’t believed Carl had a dungeon in his basement. But the proof surrounded her. At that very moment in time, she stood in the middle of a private, subterranean, fully equipped dungeon.
Anticipation supercharged her blood, sending it zooming through her veins. Her abdominal muscles fluttered and she wasn’t sure if the cause was excitement, fear or a combination of the two. She hadn’t thought this far ahead or even got around to wondering how it would feel to be in a dungeon. To know that soon, Carl would restrain and dominate her.
She shuddered as slender fingers skated over her shoulder and down her spine. Carl. How had she forgotten she wasn’t alone?
“Go ahead. Take a look around. Check out the equipment while I fix a drink.” He nodded toward a small wet bar. “Would you like anything?”
She had to pry her tongue from the roof of her dry mouth to respond. “Water.” A strong drink might help bolster her courage, but Claire didn’t want anything to dull her senses.
Carl turned to the bar and she moved about the room to get a closer look at things. Hanging from a sturdy chain in the ceiling was some kind of contraption with thick, flat metal vertical slats and horizontal bands. It was elongated, rounded at the top then broadening before tapering again toward the bottom. She estimated it at six to six and a half feet tall.
Her hand flew upward, covering her mouth to hold back a gasp.
It couldn’t be? But it was. The damn thing was some kind of cage, roughly in the shape of a human.
Moving past it quickly, she came to a standing device, shaped like the one hanging from the ceiling but solid. An iron maiden? The device had hinged doors, one of which had been left open, revealing an interior lined with spikes. When a person was shut inside, those spikes would press into their flesh.
Shooting a nervous glance over her shoulder, she located Carl, still at the bar with his back to her.
Lord, had she made a mistake believing in this man? If he went too far and she asked him to stop, would he?
Kind of late to get nervous.
Skirting around a gynecological table complete with stirrups, she approached the center of the room and the least threatening apparatus she’d seen so far. Similar to a padded massage table with thick wooden legs but oddly canted, as if the maker cut one set of supports shorter than the other. The table surface itself was short, perhaps two-feet long. At the higher end the padding curved over the rounded edge. She noticed a cut out section at the lower end and off to each side were wide, hinged metal cuffs that would lock someone in place. She stepped around the table and saw similar cuffs toward the bottom of the taller legs.
Just as she stepped forward, hand extended to test the thickness of the leather padding, a scraping sound had Claire turning her head toward Carl. The toe of her shoe caught on something and her forward momentum threw her off balance.
Several things occurred at once. She felt herself moving through the air as if she’d been pushed, practically flying with her arm extended, her pelvis slamming into the curved table edge.
Her hips folded and her upper body continued, coming to an abrupt halt on top of the table, knocking the breath right out of her. The material of her skirt flapped up, bearing her panty-clad ass to the chilled air.
She heard the scrape of wood on the concrete floor as the heavy piece of furniture was shoved by the hard impact of her body. This was followed by the loud clang of metal on metal.
Claire struggled to draw air into her abused lungs and make sense of what had happened.
After several painful, wheezed breaths, she pushed with her hands to lift her upper body but was stopped short, her right wrist held firmly in place. Horror dawned as she turned her head to see the cuff had snapped closed over her wrist.
Her palms were sweaty, her heart pounded against her ribs and her ears were filled with the loud swish of her galloping pulse.
Lord, she wasn’t sure what won out, her mortification over the indignant position or fear that she’d had help getting into this mess. Had Carl pushed her or had it been an innocent trip and fall?
“Umm…Carl. Could you help me up?” A burst of nervous laughter passed her lips.
Catching movement in her peripheral vision, Claire arched her neck to watch Carl’s slow approach. Too slow for her comfort. Apparently the jerk was enjoying the view of her bared butt sticking up.
Men, ugh!
She blindly reached back with her free hand, trying to catch the hem of her dress and push it down. As she grasped at material, hard fingers closed over her wrist and forced her left arm toward the open cuff. Claire kicked, bucked her body and struggled against him but Carl had strength on his side. Within moments he had her left arm and both ankles locked down to the table. As she continued to struggle, he fastened a wide leather strap over her hips, severely limiting her movement.
“Carl, let me go. We haven’t talked about my limits yet.”
Oh God, this couldn’t be happening. Nobody knew where she’d gone and Carl had turned into a complete psycho. He had her immobilized in his basement dungeon, far from any other house. No one would even hear her scream.
“Carl,” she screeched, “this isn’t funny.” Claire put all her strength into trying to break free knowing the effort was wasted but unable to stop fighting for her freedom.
“I will allow no limits, Claire. You will take what I give you and thank me for it.”







Nicole Austin lives on the sheltered Gulf Coast of Florida, where inspiration can be found sitting under a big shade umbrella on the beach, sipping cold margaritas. A voracious reader, she never goes anywhere without a book, but started looking for something more. Something hotter.

A passion for erotic romance led to Nicole's creation of sizzling characters and boundary pushing stories. Now she lives in an incredible world where fantasy comes to life in bold, vivid detail. Well, until real life intrudes and she has to share the computer with the rest of the family.

Visit Nicole's website: http://nicoleaustin.net
Email Nicole: nicole@nicoleaustin.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNicoleAustin







Friday, 5 February 2016

BOY (Book 2) by Eden Bradley

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Synopsis
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Eden Bradley~the continuation of her tale of ultimate surrender found in Book One of The Training House Series, GIRL Being broken has never been such beautiful torture… I am Christopher. I am most specifically not called Boy in this exclusive slave training arena where every submissive male is known as ‘Boy’. They don’t let me retain my identity—they make me. They keep me in my head, in my body, no matter what they’re doing to me, because they know I require it. They call me brat. They call me rebel. These terms are far too bland to describe what I really am. I am anger in chains. I am seething sexual animal. I am the worst kind of f*ck-up. The Master loves me. Maybe only because the level of my misbehavior challenges him to come up with new and terrible punishments. Do I sound proud? I am. I also love him, in my way. It’s a strange dynamic, one that has never been disrupted by anyone. Until I saw the new Girl. Fresh-faced and indescribably lovely. Burning alchemical reaction that threatened to consume me the moment I saw her. I will call her Aimee. I refuse to play the Master’s games. Because for reasons I don’t understand, she is instantly more to me than any of the other Girls. What will she think of me? The ultimate anarchist. The keeper of secrets. The unbreakable one. Why do I even care? All I know is that I do. And that this Girl could ultimately be the one who finally breaks me. WARNING: These books contain material that may be difficult to read about and/or cause triggers for some readers. Do NOT try this at home! BuyNow
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Eden close up sable 620New York Times & USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Eden Bradley aka Eve Berlin writes dark, edgy erotic fiction. Her work has been called ‘elegant, intelligent and sensual’. Her debut novel, THE DARK GARDEN, has been praised as ‘a masterpiece’, and was a Romantic Times Top Pick. Her novels and novellas have been translated into German, Romanian, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Polish and Japanese.
As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences. Eden speaks regularly on BDSM psychology and practice, as well as sex positive culture for women.


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Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Helpless, a dark romance by AJ Adams - more satisfying than chocolate!


Helpless, a dark romance by AJ Adams
A self-standing novel
First in the Belial Disciples series

Fracas Macintyre has been in and out of trouble all her life but this time it’s worse than ever. In debt to a loan shark, she’s caught up in a war between the Alistairs, nicknamed The Irish Mob, and Belial’s Disciples, England’s nastiest MC. Kidnapped and at the mercy of Caden Winslow, Fracas is convinced that life is going to get very nasty indeed. 

Caden Winslow is an ex soldier used to taking care of business. When an Alistair henchman steals his beloved Busa, he simply takes one of theirs hostage and expects a simple trade will solve the problem. However, Caden is about to be pulled into a war.

Note: Helpless is a dark romance and there’s lots of violence, but it’s also a love story.  It’s not a “lock her up and rape her till she loves him” plot so if you’re not sure, give it a go. 

Excerpt
I opened the boot, and at the sight of the girl, Crush began grinning. “Hey, is that for me, too?”
“You can go fuck yourself!” The little tart blew up instantly. “You evil bastard, let me go!”
“Whoo! I like her!”
Crush is a man who enjoys performing to the stereotypical outlaw biker image. This time I could see he meant it, and so did the girl. She opened her mouth, spotted Crush’s cut and went very quiet.
“You can’t have her. She’s my collateral.” I pulled her towards me, snapped through her ankle ties with the box cutter and threw her over my shoulder. She muttered furiously, but she’d stopped fighting. I could feel her raise her head and look over the crowd of gathering Disciples. She shivered and went limp. I guess she didn’t like the look of the party.
Crush was still curious. “Collateral for what?”
“Alistair’s man took my Busa.”
“You’re shitting me!”

Helpless - more satisfying than chocolate!

For international buyers: buy from Smashwords
If you're in the US and have a Kindle: buy from Amazon.com
If you're in the UK and have a Kindle: buy from Amazon UK
If you are a Nook person, buy from Smashwords because it's not out on Barnes and Noble - yet!

Monday, 1 February 2016

Schemes Gone Amiss



 






SCHEMES GONE AMISS
Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper, Book 2




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Intrepid and outspoken, Blythe Culpepper is dragged against her will to London for a Season. To her dismay, her guardian enlists the devilishly attractive Lord Leventhorpe, the one man she detests, to assist with her Come Out. Since their first encounter, hostile looks and cutting retorts have abounded whenever they meet, yet she cannot deny the way her body reacts when he’s near. So perhaps it’s no surprise that upon overhearing another woman scheming to entrap Tristan into marriage, Blythe risks all to warn him. 
Haunted by childhood trauma, Tristan, the austere and controlled Marquis of Leventhorpe, usually avoids social gatherings. So why, against his better judgement, does he agree to aid his closet friend in presenting the Culpeppers to the ton? Might it be because one Culpepper stirs more than his interest? Blythe taxes him to his limits with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Yet, he cannot deny the beauty fascinates him. However, when an old enemy comes calling, using Blythe to settle old scores, Tristan must decide if protecting his honor is more important than winning the heart of the woman he has come to love.




Publisher: Blue Rose Romance in partnership with Windtree Press




Excerpt:
His gaze riveted upon her mouth, tension tightened his lips.
He had the most beautifully sculpted mouth she’d ever noticed, and that included the Greek gods from last night’s ball. Were Lord Leventhorpe’s as warm and firm and tasty as they appeared?
What the blazes did Mr. Burlington’s lips look like? Did he have lips? He must, of course.
A wheel sank into a hole with bone-jarring force, abruptly interrupting Blythe’s mental rambling and pitching her and Lord Leventhorpe headfirst. His hat flew from his head as he tumbled from his seat onto his knees and reflexively wrapped his arms around her to keep her from plunging to the floor.
With a yelp of outraged surprise, Freddy bumped into Blythe’s back, somehow managing to scramble onto the seat.
Their faces mere inches apart, Blythe couldn’t haul her gaze from the glinting specks in Lord Leventhorpe’s eyes. His focus sank to her lips, and his pupils shrank to pin pricks.
Would he kiss her?
Did she want him to?
Illogically, yes.
Breath suspended, she remained perfectly motionless. Waiting.
Lowering his head, he tightened his embrace an instant before his lips whispered across hers.
They taste even better than they look.
A brilliant light burst behind her eyes, and every bone in her body turned molten. She clutched his lapels certain if she let go, she’d slither to the floor.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and sighing, she readily capitulated and parted her mouth, eager to taste more of him.




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