Billionaire with Benefits by @AnneTenino ~ @RiptideBooks

Hello, and welcome to the Billionaire with Benefits Blog Tour! *fanfare, etc*BillionaireWithBenefits_150x300

You might have noticed this book took me a while to write . . . or maybe you didn’t notice, but take my word for it, it did. That might be why it ended up longer than it needed it to be. Ultimately we trimmed over 15,000 words from the original Billionaire manuscript, so posts from me (as opposed to spotlights and reviews) are all going to be cut scenes from the book. Sort of like the extras on a DVD, but, you know, not.

A list of stops on the tour can be found here. Why would you want to follow the tour? Well, because I’m giving away a fabulous, one-of-a-kind Voodoo Ken Kit, which the winner can use to seek revenge on any or all of their exes. How do you win? Check the bottom of each tour post for details.


BillionaireWithBenefits_400x600Billionaire with Benefits

It’s just a friend thing

Before confessing his gayness to his best friend, Tierney Terrebonne’s sex life is strictly restroom. After confessing his gayness to his best friend . . . it doesn’t improve much. Why bother trying when the man he’s loved for fourteen years (see: “best friend”) is totally unattainable? Good thing Tierney is an old hand at accepting defeat; all it takes is a bottle of bourbon. Or fifty. Repeat as needed.

Dalton Lehnart has a history of dating wealthy, damaged, closeted, lying, cheating, no-good, cowardly men, so of course he’s immediately attracted to Tierney Terrebonne. Fortunately, Tierney is so dissolute that even Dalton’s feelings for the man would be better described as pity. Which becomes sympathy as they get to know each other. Followed by compassion, concern, caring, and hopefulness as Tierney struggles to change his life. When the man comes out very publicly and enters rehab, Dalton finds himself downright attached to Tierney. And as everyone knows, after attachment comes . . .

Uh oh.

But post-rehab Tierney can’t handle more than friendship, so Dalton should be safe from repeating his own past mistakes, right? Right?



excerptChapter 1

Present Day

Sunday was a day to play a game commonly called “rugby” but which Tierney thought of as “bloodletting and beer with a ball.” Sometimes he remembered the ball. Tierney’d always looked forward to Sundays, but when Ian had moved to the city and started playing on Tierney’s team, Sunday became the best day of Tierney’s week.

For a couple of months. Until Tierney figured out that, while he’d always thought of Ian as his closest friend and backup plan, Ian pretty much saw Tierney as not much more than an old college buddy.

Then, last week, when Tierney’d gone to pick him up for their scrimmage, Ian had been freshly showered and seemed too fucking loose. Relaxed.

Sated. As if he’d been banging some chick all night long.

A chick he had, like, feelings for.

Knocking on Ian’s door this particular Sunday afternoon, Tierney couldn’t shake his foul mood. So foul he was ready to quit playing rugby if his friend was going to be a dick. Last week, Ian had taken forever to answer. If that douche took too long to answer this week, Tierney’d—

Ian opened the door. “Hey man.”

Tierney’s anger switched gears. “Nice of you to show right away this time.” Stepping forward into the entry, he started forming his plan of verbal attack. “You ready or—”

A nearly naked guy stood in Ian’s bedroom doorway, blinking like he’d just woken up.

Christ. Tierney’s mouth was an uncharacteristic beat or two behind. “Dude?”

“Just a sec,” Ian said from the end of an echoey tunnel. “Almost ready.”

Sam. That was his name, the guy in Ian’s place. That skinny, flaming waiter Ian had met a few weeks ago. Tierney couldn’t breathe, blackness creeping into his vision from the sides, narrowing his focus down to a pinprick. Until all he could see was his closest friend in the world, the guy whose image he’d jacked off to a million times and who he’d fucking been holding out for, walking up to that emaciated pale twink on the other side of his living room and—

Jesus fucking Christ. Tierney’s palm hit the wall, holding him steady.

—Ian kissed Sam.


Want a chance to win Voodoo Ken? Well, keep looking, because this isn’t the post with the magical question. FYI, I’ll ship worldwide, so anyone can enter.




bioRaised on a steady diet of Monty Python, classical music and the visual arts, Anne Tenino was—famously—the first patient diagnosed with Compulsive Romantic Disorder. Since that day, Anne has taken on conquering the M/M world through therapeutic writing. Finding out who those guys having sex in her head are and what to do with them has been extremely liberating.

Anne’s husband finds it liberating as well, although in a somewhat different way. Her two daughters are mildly confused by Anne’s need to twist webvatarKen dolls into odd positions. However, other than occasionally stealing Ken1’s strap-on, they let Mom do her thing without interference.

Wondering what Anne does in her spare time? Mostly she lies on the couch, eats bonbons and shirks housework.

Check out what Anne’s up to now by visiting her site.



Dreamspinner Press





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New Release: Kissin’ Hell by @jodiredford


A brand spankin’ new That Old Black Magic spin-off series.

Oct. 15th

Goodreads Link:

Buy Links:

unnamedblurbThere are two certainties in life soul collector and hellhound Jericho Stryker knows too well—Death never takes a holiday, and women are typically more trouble than they’re worth. That goes double for his personal nemesis and regular pain in his backside, Lola McKenna. Sure, the luscious little hellcat gets his blood boiling in more ways than one, but some scratches are best left un-itched. That determination is strained to the max when a botched soul acquisition job lands him on the same case as Lola.

Fetching a stubborn soul from a haunted bordello should be a piece of cake. Unfortunately for Lola, she has to deal with Jericho horning in on her bounty. Attempting to keep her cool and her wits around her sinfully sexy adversary? Easier said than done. Especially when she finds herself locked overnight with Jericho. Not strangling him before sunrise? A faint possibility. Ignoring the lusty, depraved sexual fantasies he awakens in her? A snowball’s chance in hell of happening. But worse of all is the very real possibility that he could steal the one thing she most fears losing to him—her heart.


excerptJericho gave the ceiling one last baleful glare before shifting his focus to Lola. She was staring straight ahead, her succulent, glossy lips parted in awe. Frowning, he followed her gaze. And blinked.

The sofa and subdued antique furnishings of Dahlia’s apartment had vanished. In fact, he wasn’t even certain they were in her suite anymore. Across from them stood an enormous canopy bed. In addition to the sinful depictions of erotic sex acts carved into the bed posts there were velvet ropes that he suspected had nothing to do with tying back the curtains. The nearby night table held an intriguing assortment of bottled oils, dildos, and a feather tickler. He panned his attention back to Lola and noticed she was also gaping at the accoutrements. Her cheeks adopting a pretty rosy-pink hue, she peeked at him before quickly looking away.

He stalked to the bed and poked at the lace spread covering it. “Where in the damn hell are we?”

“My guess—one of the bordello rooms.”

Yeah, he suspected as much too. Still didn’t explain how they got there. Okay, maybe he didn’t know precisely how, but he sure as shit knew who was responsible for the change of scenery. “I’m going to wring that fucking ghost’s neck.”

He waited for Lola to add her agreement to that plan. When she remained mute he turned his head to see why she was giving him the silent treatment. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the vision greeting him.

She stood stock still in front of him, gaping down at the eye-popping carnal red corset and garter set adorning her mouthwatering body.

A strangled sound attempted to make its way from his throat but croaked out as a “Gah” instead.

Lola’s head jerked up and she stared at him. “I have no idea how she did this.”

That made two of them. Though truthfully, he was feeling infinitely more charitable toward Dahlia than he had a moment ago. “That color looks good on you.”

She double blinked. “What?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m just sayin’, she picked the right outfit for you.”

Lola’s mouth twitched. “I guess she would know. Being an expert and all. I wonder why she didn’t do anything with your clothes though?”

“I’m a guy.”

“So? A nice pair of leather assless chaps would fit right in here.” She waved to their erotic surroundings.

He grimaced. “Don’t say that out loud.”

She chuckled. “Worried Dahlia might overhear?”

“Hell yes.”

Lola pivoted and sashayed toward the door. His eyes nearly fell out of their sockets as he took in the seductive jiggle of her heart-shaped ass. Day-um, mama had back and then some. His hound salivating, Jericho imagined massaging those gorgeous globes while he rode her from behind. Cock thickening in his briefs, he wiped the drool from his chin.

Lola tried the door again before sighing in defeat. “I don’t think we have any option but to teleport.”

He arched his brows. “You’re going to go ghosthunting in that getup?”

“Trust me, not my first choice,” she replied wryly.

He certainly wasn’t against the idea of getting to see her prance around in her wicked skimpies, but he didn’t want to subject her to any embarrassment or a chill. Plus there was the small fact that he’d be a walking boner advertisement every time he looked at her. He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. She accepted the garment with obvious surprise and a dazzling smile.

He had a moment to mourn the lost view of her knockout tits before she tugged the jacket in place and grabbed his hand, twining her fingers with his. Recalling the unsteadying turbulence she’d experienced on their last flight, he wrapped an arm around her waist. His hand ghosted to the small of her back, tucking her closer to him. His fingers rested in the dip of her tailbone, barely brushing the top of her bikini bottoms. Sticky sweat rolled down his back. They stared at each other, their ragged breaths mingling. Several seconds ticked by. She licked her lips and he tracked the motion with rapt interest.

She swallowed hard. “Nothing’s happening.”

Not entirely true. Something was definitely happening behind the fly of his jeans, and his hound was whining to be let out to play as a result.

“I-I think she somehow disabled our teleport links.”

He nodded. “Told ya ghosts are nothing but pains-in-the-asses.”

“We need to find another way out of here.”

He nodded again. “Fuck yeah we do.”

“That portal isn’t going to close itself.”

“Nope.” He shivered a little bit when Lola curled her arm around his neck and sifted her fingers through his hair.

She bit her lip. “We should—”

“Fuck.” He spit out the word, both as a curse and a desperate suggestion, right before he crushed her mouth under his.


bioAt the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.

When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.


Author links:



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Guest Post: Sotto Voce by @eringofinnegan {#Giveaway} @GoddessFish


On Wine and Mythology in Sotto Voce, Or Why Dionysus Is the Hot God of Wine

When I first started writing Sotto Voce, it was inspired by two things: a hot guy in a topless pickup truck and the Greek and Roman gods of wine. Oddly, the two converged.

Long before I had even outlined the book, I had written a short story in a fan community about a wine critic who decided to crash a secret harvest celebration by winemakers, a bacchanalia. According to legend, bacchanalia were Roman festivals of Bacchus, the god of wine, freedom, intoxication and ecstasy. They were based on the Greek Dionysia—festivals honoring the Greek god of wine Dionysus and celebrating the harvest—and were held in strict privacy, and initiates were bound to secrecy. What little is known of the Bacchanalia is often depicted as torrid, debauched, drunken rites.

In this story, the wine critic is spotted by a toga’d winemaker playing Bacchus for the secret party—a hot, toga’d winemaker playing Bacchus.

And that’s where, I realized later, the wheels fell off the story. Because Bacchus, as a Sonoma winemaker once told me, is “not the guy you want to be. Bacchus is old, and the mileage is showing. He’s let himself go. Dionysus is young and hot.”

Technically, many will argue that they are one and the same, that Bacchus is the Roman name for the Greek God of the grape harvest, Dionysus. I think the better interpretation is that Bacchus is Dionysus after 50 years of hard partying.

Before (Dionysus):










After: (Bacchus):








Source: Wine Appellation America

That’s right. Every time you see depictions of that cherubic, balding guy hoisting a glass of wine, you’re celebrating the wrong God of Wine. It’s young, hot Dionysus you should be celebrating.

I got a chance to remedy that in Sotto Voce, to briefly revisit that moment when the lovers, Greg and Tom, attend a private bacchanalia party to celebrate the end of the harvest in Napa and Sonoma. This time, the winemaker Greg turns down the opportunity to play Bacchus.

“I would have liked to have seen you in a toga,” Tom, the wine critic, tells him. “But I think you’re more of a Dionysus.”

And as for the guy in the topless pickup truck? What’s his role in all of this?

Well, the mystery man in the International Scout—who I don’t know, but occasionally see around the neighborhood—is the original visual inspiration for Greg Kennedy.

His code name?



blurbNew York-based wine critic Thomas Baldwin can make or break careers with his column for Taste Magazine. But when his publisher orders him to spend a year profiling rising stars of California’s wine country and organizing a competition between the big name wineries of Napa and the smaller artisan wineries of Sonoma, his world gets turned upside-down by an enigmatic young winemaker who puts art before business.

Sotto Voce is the story of love and wine, and how both require patience, passion, an acceptance of change—and an understanding that sometimes, you have to let nature take its course.


excerptTom set down the drink and found his way to Greg, locking eyes with him until they stood face to face. Without a word, he took Greg’s hand, entwined their fingers and led him down the hall and away from the noisy crowd.

“We might need another bottle or two,” Greg said, his voice shaky.

A hint of a smile crested Tom’s face. He nodded, just slightly, just enough for Greg to see. He backed down the hall, leading Greg by his fingertips. They reached the cellar door, and Tom rotated, turning Greg like a partner in a waltz so that he stood alongside the door.

Greg tried to lean into him, as if to embrace him, but Tom stepped back slightly and shook his head as if to say not here.

Greg reached into his pocket, pulled out the cellar key and opened the door. Then he reversed roles, taking Tom’s hand to lead him down the narrow staircase.

He flicked a wall switch to light the stairs, casting the rest of the space in soft shades of amber. Each step down revealed more of the stone-walled room, more utilitarian than decorative and lined, floor-to-ceiling, with racked bottles of wine. An alcove built into one wall doubled as a bar, and in the center stood a wine barrel table and two chairs.

Tom took both of Greg’s hands in his and guided him across the room in their own private dance until Greg’s back rested against the wall. He stopped, eased in close and let his face bloom into a full smile.

“I just wanted to stop by and say congratulations,” he said. And then he leaned forward, tilted his head and pressed their lips together.


bioErin Finnegan is a former journalist and editor. She was born and raised in Southern California, where she lives with twoAuthorPic sheep dogs and grows, ferments and drinks Syrah and Zinfandel in the foothills outside Los Angeles.

Sotto Voce is her first novel.

Connect with Erin at, on Facebook at, on Goodreads at and on Twitter at @eringofinnegan.



Erin will be awarding a Multi-format Sotto Voce eBook to 10 randomly drawn winners and a Grand Prize of a $25 B&N gift card will be awarded to one randomly drawn winner, all via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Follow the tour.The tour dates can be found here:

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Guest Post and New Release: The Sticky Cowgirl (Lone Star Sweets #2) @lissamatthews

So, this is a shameless promo piece. Totally and completely shameless. See, I have a new book out tomorrow called The Sticky Cowgirl. It’s all about sticky buns and a boot wearin’ woman and the suit who falls in love with her less than polished ways. It’s about growth, change, compromise, and what one man will do when he never even realized he had a choice.

It’s the second book in my contemporary foodie romance, Lone Star Sweets series, which, I have to say, is a hoot to write. If you know me, you know I love food. If you don’t know me, you’ll soon figure out that I love food. Sweets, definitely. Oh and coffee.

My heroines are strong and independent, have curves and fluff, and my heros are handsome, stubborn, yet devoted to the soles of their shoes, whether Italian leather or with holes worn in. I’ve set the series in one of my favorite cities, San Antonio, Texas with it’s bright colors and busy downtown atmosphere surrounding the river that winds through it.


Lone Star Sweets, Book Two

Life is about to get sticky for by the book businessman, Samuel Stevenson.

Raised in Texan society, groomed to take over his stepfather’s company, and the hope of every debutante mama this side of Dallas, he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a thorn in the company’s side: Samantha Dawson, owner of The Sticky Cowgirl.

But, fall in love he did.

Now, his job is in jeopardy, his mother is beside herself, and Samantha won’t budge an inch.

Will Samuel lose everything, or will the boot wearing, sassy mouthed rancher’s daughter show him exactly what he’s always wanted?

Amazon | All Romance eBooks

For the next 10 days, The Sticky Cowgirl is on sale for $.99 along with the first book in the series, The Cupcake Cowboy. Get them while they’re hot! After the 10 days is up, the prices goes up, too!


excerptSamuel Stevenson gazed down at the white flour now coating the front of his gray suit. His incredibly expensive gray suit. His incredibly expensive, custom tailored gray suit. “Was that really necessary?” he asked softly as he met the angry gaze of the woman standing on the other side of the large worktable. He composed himself, but the urge to reach out and strangle her was strong and it took everything he had to resist it.

It would, in fact, be wrong for him to do so, though it would make him feel so much better. It would solve part of his company’s problem, too. She’d been the biggest pain in the ass since the beginning. She was the last holdout. She was the last obstacle blocking his path.

And she’d just flung pastry flour at him. He sighed and curled his fingers into his palms.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Store.” Her words were measured, spoken low, and held back a temper that probably rivaled his. He couldn’t deny the attraction he’d felt for her the first moment he walked into her little bakery. But while the physical attraction to her blonde wavy hair she liked to wear in pigtails and her cute little sundresses that always drew his eye to the V between her breasts, her dark chocolate eyes and feet always clad in cowboy boots was strong, her less than willing attitude to listen to him and his proposal, left a lot to be desired.

“Miss Dawson,” he started again calmly, barely holding his anger in check while he brushed at the flour, which only made the stain worse. He gave up. “If you’d give me five minutes I know I could make you ―”

“There is nothin’ in the world you have to say that I want to listen to. You’re not gettin’ my business.”

Samuel glared at her. “With the money you would make by selling me this…this hole in the wall store, you could open a bigger one. You could afford to build one to your specific needs and design, state of the art. You ―”

“I don’t want any other store front or location. I want this hole in the wall and I’m not selling it to you.”

“Why are you being so difficult about this? It’s a good offer.”

“Maybe for you. I’m still not moving.”

“How did you end up being able to purchase it anyway? Most of your neighbors leased, yet you own. You’re also a start-up.”

“What? You can’t do your own research?” When he didn’t answer, she gave a frustrated growl and he had to bite back a smile. She was ladylike, but she was also a mama bear and the bakery was her cub. He might not like her tenacity, the difficulty she was causing his company’s project, but he had to admire her.

The building was just sitting here. The owner was behind on property taxes and it was going to go up for auction. I wanted it. It was a candy store years ago. All kinds of homemade candies and whenever we’d come into town, my parents would bring my brother and me here. My father paid the taxes and helped me set up shop. And now you…” She pointed at him. “You want to take it away from me.” She slapped her wooden rolling pin down on the dough in front of her and began rolling, moving it smoothly back and forth until the ball took the shape of a flattened circle. The more she rolled this way, then that way, the circle reformed into a rectangle. “It has sentimental value to me. It’s more than just a building. Besides, it wouldn’t set too well with the people around here.”

Her words mirrored and confirmed his thoughts and he nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “I know, but you can open up a new place. I’m offering you more than enough to buy into a bigger and better location.” He knew the answer though. No matter what he offered or said, she wouldn’t change her mind. He couldn’t let her sentiment cloud his objective.”

“I don’t want a bigger or better location. I want this one. Right here. The one you’re trespassing on all the damn time. We don’t need any more riverfront condos that no one in this economy can afford anyway.”

“It brings work to the area.”

“For a little while, sure. And then what? Half of the units sit empty and those who built it are out of work again? No. You’re not getting my store just so you can tear it down.”

“I’ll add another twenty thousand to my offer. That’s considerably more than any of the other owners have received. They were happy to sign on the dotted line. You’re the last one, Miss Dawson.”

“Then I’d say they were too damn easy.” She wiped her brow with her arm and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “The answer is no. I lucked into this little piece of property and it’s been perfect for me and my business, so I’m not giving up without a fight.”

“What are you making?” Samuel blurted. He hadn’t meant to ask, but ever since she rolled out the dough, then brushed it with butter, he hadn’t been able to look away from her hands. They weren’t exactly the prettiest ones he’d ever seen. The nails were short and there was stuff caked under them. He suspected it was the sugary mixture she was currently sprinkling across the dough from one end to the other and back again. She moved quickly, efficiently, but she was precise in her movements. He imagined she could do her job in her sleep and whatever she was making would turn out as perfect as if she were wide awake.

“Sticky buns. My grandmother’s recipe. Don’t you know anything about the businesses you’re buying out?”

Samuel shrugged. “It’s simpler to ―”

“To bury your head in the sand? To see numbers instead of people?” she finished for him.

“Something like that,” he murmured. “I ah… I don’t believe I’ve ever had a sticky bun.” Her eyes suddenly lifted and met his. He smiled at her surprise.

“Never?” He shook his head as her eyes widened. “But how is that possible?”

“There weren’t a lot of sweets allowed in my house growing up and I guess I’ve never felt the need to change that. Sweets like what you make, while they look good and smell good, aren’t good for you.” Her gaze narrowed as the words left his mouth. Great. Now he’d just insulted her business even further. Way to score points there, buddy.

“There are a lot of things that aren’t good for you, but if you’ve ever stopped to look, some of those things bring the purest joy to someone’s face and my sticky buns happen to do just that.”

“I didn’t mean ―”

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant.”



Lone Star Sweets, Book One

Raised to be a rancher and filled from boots to hat with stubborn determination, Jackson Dawson has chosen a career path no one saw coming. Cupcake baker.

The hitch in his plan? His equally stubborn, former pastry instructor Cass, who cautioned him even as she stole his heart.

Cass is willing to yield, but will Jackson bend, in this battle of wills where sugar and spice make everything naughty and oh so nice?

Warning: Uses of frosting that frosting was never intended for. A dirt road showdown. A lesson in milking cows. A whole truck full of mouthwatering cupcakes (some with liquor). A little family drama. And dreams on their way to coming true…

Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Barnes and Noble

I hope you’ll give this series a try!

If you’d like to find out more about me, I can usually be found on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest

And a special thank you to The Smutty Hussy for letting me stop by and say hello!



Unconditio​nal Surrender Box Set: Rhi Etzweiler Interviews Her Characters #Giveaway @musefodder


Hello everyone! I’m author Rhi Etzweiler, and I’m here today with the main characters from my short story titled “Blood & Peyote.” Gentlemen, thank you for joining me today. Let’s start with a general introduction: name, rank, job title, that sort of thing.

[A great deal of eye contact and nonverbal communication takes place as they decide who’s going to go first.]

A: Hi, I’m Specialist Apisi Howling. I’m three generations pure Kainai, and ten years a medicine man apprentice under my father. I’m a game warden in Glacier National Park. I track the movements of tagged wolf packs on the eastern slopes. As a Guardsman, I’m a Designated Marksman and Master Gunner. They tried to get me sniper qualified, but the slot didn’t open up before our last deployment.

C: I’m Specialist Chartreuse Beaudrou. And since we’re doing ethnicities, my father was French Canadian and my mother was German. And I’m the platoon medic for our Guard unit. Out of uniform, I’m a large animal vet. I have my own practice and a string of local ranchers in northern Wyoming and southeastern Montana as clientele. Mostly beef cattle.

[They share a glance.]

A & C: [in unison] We’re both practicing heathens.


Where did you grow up?

A: On Blackfoot Nation lands.

C: Uh, Toronto and Boston, but Billings, mostly.

[Laughter from both men.]


Does that mean you’re both Canadian born?

C: I am, yeah. My parents moved to Boston as expatriates when I was still in elementary school. But, uh, Api here—

A: Technically, I’m a Kainai citizen of the Blackfoot Nation, not Canadian or American. We don’t really observe the national borders of other countries through our lands. My parents relocated south inside American borders about two decades ago, when my mother took a seat on the tribal council.


Tell us about the first time you met. Was it love at first sight?

A: No.

C: Yes.

A: [grimaces] Ah, yes? I didn’t realize there was a…such thing.

C: [laughs] We’re supposed to be talking to the interviewer, not arguing semantics. You looked hot in that PT uniform. I would’ve fucked you in a heartbeat.

A: Except for the whole “it’ll get you court marshaled and dishonorably discharged,” you mean, right? And nobody looks hot in a PT uniform.

C: [shrugs] I might’ve risked it anyway. You won’t ever know, will you.

A: That doesn’t qualify as love. It was hormones.

C: There you go with semantics again. [grins] He’s too smart for his own good most of the time.

A: [growls and shoves Char in the shoulder] Beats being a smartass.

C: You’re just jealous of my sharp wit.


You two definitely have an interesting dynamic going on. What drew you to each other?

C: Solidarity. We got paired up as battle buddies during out first OIF deployment. Been that way ever since. Usually veterans are assigned with first-timers on ensuing deployments.

A: Our unit is small enough, that wasn’t necessary. We got lucky.

C: And on each other’s nerves.

A: A lot.

C: You liked every moment of it.

A: [laughs and grins] You did make for a good distraction. Like that time we pranked the lowlife that sent you a Dear John letter? River’s still hunting for that snapshot, by the way.

C: What snapshot?

A: The one of them from the party.

C: Oh, when they lost that bet with Handler and had to wear those fishnets and seven inch stilettos. I didn’t send that one, it was too good.

A: But you didn’t give it back, either.

C: F… no. Of course I didn’t. That thing is art.

A: Blackmail material, you mean.

C: That too.


An interesting story, you should definitely share the details another time. From the sounds of it, you both thrive on challenges?

C: Definitely. We’re usually at each other’s throats when we’re not making dares.

A: Understatement. We’ve bother been sergeants at least twice.

C: The last NJP was your fault, so you know.


Non-judicial punishment? They took rank stripes, from both of you at the same time?

C: Yes. We were performing a religious ceremony. Rather ill-timed it turned out, and the commanding officer didn’t see it as such.

A: Neither did the chaplain.

C: Yeah well. Arterial spray stains don’t really ever come out of clothing, not even combat uniforms.

A: Especially not when the Afghan summer sun bakes it to their skin.


What’s your favorite vacation spot?

A: The Rockies. I enjoy hiking along the eastern slopes during my downtime.

C: Can I use his bed as a valid answer?

A: No, you cannot.

C: Why not?

A: Because I said so.

C: Yeah well, I was asking them, not you. Besides, I can’t think of a single other place I’d rather kick back and relax in my free time. You should see his bed. It’s a work of art, let me tell you.

A: I’m sure you shouldn’t tell them. They don’t want to hear about my bed.

C: I’d beg to differ.

A: And if you do, I’ll shut you up real fast.

C: [eyes narrowing] Is that a threat or a promise?


Well, I understand how you’ve managed to lose your sergeant stripes twice. Care to share future plans? Do either of you intend to stay in the military?

C: I intended to renew my service contract with the Guard for another six years.  I doubt I’ll get the option, not after the rough time I’ve had with reintegration. Which is fine. I’m getting too old and battered to keep up with the spring chickens.

A: I wanted to, until after this last tour. When my contract comes up next year, I’m done. I’ve more important things to focus on. Like my apprenticeship.


Thank you for taking the time to join us today, gentlemen. And welcome home, we hope retirement treats you well!

C: Thank you for having us. Let me tell you, it’s great to be home. And I intend to abuse my retirement to the full extent of the law, too.

A: Oh great. That means running me ragged? No more naked snow angels in the dead of March.

C: Hey, wait just a second!

A: I will not! I’m completely serious! I’ll make a mountain of coconut shavings in the greenhouse for you to roll around in. That’s as much as you get.

C: My frostbite wasn’t that bad!

Check out the exclusive “Blood & Peyote” soundtrack, on 8tracks and Spotify!


UnconditionalSurrender2DblurbApisi Howling and Chartreuse Beaudrou returned from their Guard unit’s deployment almost a year ago. His battle buddy requested space and Apisi complied, limiting contact to phone calls. When their sergeant calls in a code black, Apisi throws out all the rules. Can they find a way to live with their demons, including their mutual attraction?


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bioRhi enjoys creating characters and worlds with a speculative mixture that defies easy genre labels. For Rhi, storytelling is an artistic medium, and there’s rarely such thing as a short one. “Sometimes luring or bribery of muses is required. Once they realize I’m listening, they don’t stop.”



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Phantom Desire (Psychic Menage #2) by @HoustonHavens #Excerpt #erotic #romance #dystopian #futuristic


Houston Havens

A multi-genre story: Erotic Romance, Ménage (MFMM), Paranormal, Fantasy, Futuristic, Suspense, Dystopian, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Light BDSM, and Psychics.

Release Date: Sept 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-1500952563

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Published with: H.A.W.K. PUBLISHING –

My review for this book can be found here:

My review for Book 1 in this series, Sinful Surrender can be found here:


Mini Blurb

Mind traveler Chandra Lamar is on the run, not only from her post-catastrophic dystopian government but from a past she can’t remember. Will Chandra go through with the vengeance in her heart or give it up for love in the arms of the Nodin men or does her Phantom Desire forever own her heart?

blurbMind traveler Chandra Lamar is on the run, not only from her post-catastrophic dystopian government but from a past she can’t remember. A psychic vision pushes her to recall her purpose for being, but it’s a ghost that awakens her desires for a life she fears she’ll never have. Both push her to remember the past because it threatens what she wants in the now; the Nodin men.

Andonis Nodin battles to accept his failures. The heavy burden nearly breaks him when he can’t save a loved one from the grim reaper’s grip and questions his desire for Chandra, the woman he blames for the death around him.

Nikias finds true love with Chandra in his arms, but is desperate to stop her from seeking revenge on a mission he knows is a one way trip.

Ortello knows for them to recapture the love they once felt for each other, he must be willing to let her go. But overcoming his obsession to make Chandra his and his alone isn’t easy.

Will Chandra go through with the vengeance in her heart or give it up for love? Who is the powerful woman in her haunting visions and will those revealing apparitions crumble her world with the Nodin clan? Does Chandra find true love in the arms of the Nodin men or does her Phantom Desire forever own her heart?


excerptErotic: Chandra

She’d developed a liking for spanking when she was sixteen. By chance she’d gotten in trouble at the Mind Traveling School for making a travel without permission of the location and was taken to task by the faculty head. He happened to be a very distinguished looking man but sexually deprived like most Dirt Dwellers.

The moment she entered his office he demanded she bend over and slowly remove her underwear. He positioned himself so he could see her exposed pussy. In that moment of brief eye contact between them she felt the power she had over him. She wasn’t the victim, he was, and that changed the experience for her.

To this day she could remember how he squirmed when she separated her legs, bent over, and shifted her weight from side to side making his hungry stare sway with her ass movement. When he demanded she lay across his lap, she purposely raised her skirt so his hand would meet her flesh. She did it to weaken and torture him further. At first her purpose was to get back at him for punishing her for something so simple. On subsequent times, she did it to get rid of her own sexual frustrations. The day he came looking for her with some made-up charge against her was the day she knew he was at her command. By confession, she decided how many times he’d swat her rump and if she’d let him get an erection or not before she promised to be good.

Because everything was monitored, the faculty head never dared stroke her pussy, but he sure did a lot of touching, bumping and resting of his hand over that area while scolding her.

She ended up getting into trouble a lot, and it was the reason she wasn’t promoted like Fay had been. Unknown to her at the time, to cover his ass the bastard had filed bogus reports of her disobedience so those watching couldn’t charge him with unlawful sexual stimulus.

“Go on. Ask me.” Andonis’ voice drew her back from her memories.

She just didn’t have to guts to say it. They’d think she was mentally sick. After all Andonis already used a soft whip on her breasts and nipples, if she requested more punishing behavior Nikias was sure to think she was a freak. Andonis, well, he was like the faculty head, he was getting off on it just as she was. Her gut told her he was very much like Ortello. Andonis instinctively knew she liked the wild passion of tempestuous sex. Even now, the devilish twinkle of comprehension in his eyes told her he knew she was looking for a strong outlet like a spanking to get her off at the highest level.

Without pushing her to voice it, Andonis handed his brother a knife. “Cut her loose. Cut only the green and blue ropes. Leave the red bindings on her.”

Nikias released her restraints and removed the spreader bar before bringing her over to where Andonis sat in a high-back chair, stroking his cock.

“Put her on her hands and knees, three feet in front of me.”

Nikias placed his hand on her shoulder. She followed his silent commands until she was stationed on all fours with Nikias standing behind her. Her limbs shook with anticipation.

“Does this position excite you?”


bioHouston Havens retired from a successful modeling career and an adventurous jet-set lifestyle to set the world on fire with her erotic romance books. A tenacious Irish lass, she strives to entertain with seductive stories created from her decadent imagination and traces of a provocative lifestyle she may or may not admit to.

Her interest in the paranormal, fascination with quantum science, passion with myths, and the lure of her mysterious Celtic Irish-Druid bloodlines are combined with generally unknown truths, strange facts, and questionable fiction. Her novels reflect a mix of the past, present, and future, with sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, western romance, and always love everlasting. An author of six romances, a seven book erotic romance series and numerous articles in literary magazines.

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A Taste for Poison by @aleksandrvoinov {#Giveaway} @RiptideBooks



ATasteForPoison_200x300blurbEven a king gets stung when he reaches for a scorpion.

After barely surviving an assassination attempt, King Adrastes is a changed man—one who mistrusts even his allies and friends. He readies his empire for war against an enigmatic enemy, the Elder of Vededrin, but not everyone approves. While courtiers dare only to whisper dissent, an outrider called Death foments rebellion in the mountains, aided by a prophecy that promises he’ll stop the Black King.

Kendras—former lover to Adrastes and leader of the Scorpions—is sent with his elite mercenary force to bring Death to justice. But when Kendras learns who’s hiding behind the mask, he must choose between his lover Graukar, newly-appointed general to the king—and King Adrastes himself.

With no man to call master, the Scorpions could flee the danger and intrigue. But Kendras cannot abandon the man he once loved—or the man he’s growing to love—without first uncovering the real threat to the Empire. divider3

bioAleksandr has been published for twenty years, both in print and ebook. He has ten years’ experience as a writing coach, book doctor, and writing teacher, and until recently worked as an editor in financial services.

After co-authoring the M/M military cult classic Special Forces, Aleksandr embarked on a quest to write gritty, edgy, sometimes literary M/M and gay fiction (much of which is romance/erotica)—the only way he can use his American Literature degree these days.

He’s been published with Heyne/Random House, Carina Press, Samhain Publishing, and others, and is an EPIC Awards winner and a Lambda Awards finalist.

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Hell’s Bounty by @KaydenClaremont {#Giveaway} @GoddessFish



Cover_HellsBountyblurbRaven Hart, a succubus bounty hunter for Hell, is on a hunt. With her query in sight, she hits a brick wall, or rather the very hard chest of a giant sexy man. She might have lost the prize for now, but she’s a winner when the hottie wants to get physical.

Marcus Dionysius, a Nephilim working for Heaven, has one mission—to prevent Hell’s beauty from stealing souls meant for the higher plane. But he soon realizes he’s met his sexual match. She’s naughty enough to tempt his senses, but her innocence means he can’t walk away when she needs him most.

Working together to discover who’s snatching souls from Heaven, they realize the true danger is falling in love.


excerptRaven looked over at him. “Marcus, this is the coroner, Doctor Hill. Doc, this is my new partner, Detective Marcus Dionysius.”

Marcus extended his hand to the doctor, but he just paced back and forth, ignoring the proffered handshake. “Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t see this.”

“Doc, I’m a detective. There isn’t much I haven’t seen.” Raven’s no-nonsense tone had no effect on the doctor. “No, dear, not this time.” He took her by the elbow and led her a few feet away from the body. Shaking his head, he continued, “This time it’s too personal. You don’t need to see this.” He pointed at the body on the ground. “It’s Stephen, my dear.”

Marcus watched shock flash across her face for a moment before she got control again. She wasn’t expecting to see her late partner. She hadn’t done this, but that didn’t clear her of the other attacks.

The captain was sleazy. Everyone in heaven and hell knew it. And everyone thought that because Raven worked so closely with him, she was part of his plan. Marcus hoped the sexy succubus wasn’t connected with hell’s mess. He moved closer to the body.

Doctor Hill glanced at him and stopped talking.

Clearing his throat, Marcus said softly to Raven, “I’ll handle this if you’re not up to it. The captain can assign another detective to work the case with me.”

Raven looked up at him, anger flaring in her eyes as she answered, “What do you think I am? Some fragile female who can’t do her job?”

bioKayden loves sexy, well-crafted stories of lust and love. Her sensuous style drives the characters in lustful romps.AuthorPic

Her paranormal erotic novella, Hell’s Bounty is published by The Wild Rose Press.

She is a member of Sisters in Crime International; Sisters in Crime Toronto; Sisters in Crime Toronto Executive;  Romance Writers of America, Toronto Romance Writers.

When she’s not at her day job she’s crafting more tales of love or spending time with her husband and children.


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Release Day Event and #Giveaway: Finder Fees (A Trouble Maker Novel) by @KelGendron


finderfeesebookFinder Fees by Kelly Gendron

Genre: Adult/ Erotic Contemporary Romance

Release Date: October 14th, 2014

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions


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blurbWhen you find her, there are a few things you need to remember. She’s smart and manipulative. She knows how to protect herself. She’s beautiful and she’ll use it to her advantage. But, Mr. Renton, the most important thing to remember… is that she’s mine.”

J.T. Renton is worth millions. He wants for nothing. When he finds Sloan Mathis, he has to have her. Problem is she belongs to another, and J.T.’s not about taking another guy’s girl. But the idea that he can’t have her. Well, it just makes the challenge driven, J.T. Renton want his latest find that much more.

Finder Fees ~ A TroubleMaker Novel

J.T. Renton is what you might call a Finder. But the one thing this former bounty hunter no longer finds is people. That is until he’s offered a finder fee he just can’t resist. What J.T. doesn’t know is his latest find comes with a hidden fee, one that could end up costing J.T. his well-guarded heart.

Sloan Mathis is on the run from her dangerous ex. So when she encounters J.T. Renton, it takes her a second to realize the arrogant, sexy, and oh-so-frustrating Finder has actually mistaken Sloan for her twin sister. And to uncover what’s going on with her gone missing sister, Sloan lets J.T. believe that he’s found what he’s been looking for.


excerpt“I-I can’t believe you just walked out here butt-ass naked.”

“Why?” His eyelids lift. “What do I have to be ashamed of?”

“Uh…” Does he really want me to answer that?

“Besides,” he says, the side of his mouth turning up, “it ain’t like you haven’t been imaging what I look like butt-ass naked.”

“In your dreams,” I hiss. Powerless, I steal another glimpse of the muscles rippling down his arms, his flat stomach, and his strong legs. Hot damn, he’s perfect.

“Precisely where I’ve been, huh?”

“Yeah, right.” I stand up from the bed, my strength weakening.

“That’s not what you were mumbling in my ear last night,” he says, readjusting the towel around his sculptured waist.

“Hey, I was perfectly fine on the floor. You didn’t have to pick me up and put me in bed with you.”

“Just as I thought.” He shakes his head and takes a few steps toward me.

“What’s that?” I turn a bit to the left to move away from the unsafe bed.

“You were awake when I did that, and you still had no fight in ya to stop me. Admit it. You wanted to sleep with me. Those sexy legs of yours wanted nothing more than to wrap themselves around my body, and as for your hands…” His eyebrow curves. “Are you gonna deny where they were wandering to—”

“Now I know you’re full of shit! My hands didn’t wander anywhere.”

“No, but mine did, and there was no fight in ya to stop me then either.”

“Ew!” I don’t remember sleeping with him. But, hell, if I’d been awake, my frisky hands would’ve been all over him. “Fuck off,” I lurch, utterly frustrated.

“Now let’s not start throwing that word around, ‘cause standing here in nothing but a towel with you wanting what you want…” he says, shaking his head. “Well, I can’t promise that boyfriend of yours will be too happy to hear about you, me, and the eff word all summed up into one.”

“You’re an—”

“Yes, I know.” He waves me off. “I’m an arrogant ass, but hey, I get it. You want me, but you belong to someone else.” He shrugs and grins. “It happens.”

My hands ball into tight fists at my sides. “I belong to no one!”

“You do, Sloan, whether you want to admit it or not. You’re his.” He presses closer, and my back hits the wall. “And be thankful for it.” He lifts his hands and places them on the wall, trapping me. “See, the fact is…” His eyes roll down my body, then slowly saunter back up, “That’s the only thing stopping me from stripping your clothes off, slamming you against this wall, and fucking you hard.” He leans in, and my entire being shakes from the inside out. “It’s all that’s stopping me from making every bone in your body ache for me, and every muscle ache because of me. And let me tell ya, by the time I got through with you…” He pauses again, his lips slightly parted, his head tilting closer. “You’d certainly belong to someone, because I’d make you completely mine.”




bioKelly resides in a quiet suburb somewhere between Buffalo and Niagara Falls, NY. Her day job? Kelly’s worked in the Kelly-Gendronhealthcare field for years, representing a group of reputable nursing facilities in the WNY area. She’s been faithfully writing for three years. However, she wrote her first book ten years ago but had to put it down to raise her son as a single mom. When her son got a little older, she was able to pick it back up. That’s when she settled into her newly married life and started to seriously write again. She’s dabbled with Romantic Suspense stories, but recently she’s been on a contemporary kick. The recipe for the men in her stories: a dash of bad boy attitude, a cup of strong and confident and, of course, besides being packed with magnificent bodies, and doused with shameless aptitudes, they must have a tender heart you want to rip out of the pages (or your e-Reader) and take to bed with you at night.


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Come Together (Rock Hard #2) by @MadelynneEllis Book Blitz and #Giveaway @DarkWorldBooks


Come Together

(Rock Hard #2)

blurbDaniella Fosbrook can’t believe she’s dating a smoking hot rock star, now all she has to do is hold onto him.

Bad boy rockers, Black Halo, have reunited and have hit the road. Dani Fosbrook has never experienced life on the move, now she’s squashed onto a tour bus with five horny rock stars and her lover’s ex, and there’s no room for mistakes.

If threats from jealous fans and warding off unwanted press attention isn’t difficult enough to handle, Dani has to battle her own personal insecurities. Xane says he’s committed, but with so much on offer to tempt him, can she trust he won’t stray?

When sabotage puts both the tour and everything Dani and Xane have built together under threat, can the band and their entourage come together to make the tour work, or it is time for everyone to part ways?

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excerpt‘Who are you talking to, Spook? I thought I told you to get out.’

Dani’s grin stretched even wider at the sound of Xane’s voice.

‘I’m just saying hello to your lovely lady.’ Spook leaned forward again and gave her another kiss, this one on the cheek. ‘He’s grouchy and irritable, see if you can cheer him up.’

‘Over what?’


‘Life?’ she queried, but Spook was already gone.

‘Dani?’ Xane was right there in front of her instead, wrapping his arms around her, bowing his head, and drinking her down like a man desperate for water. ‘It feels like eternity since I last set eyes on you.’ He didn’t seem irritable to her, only desperately pleased to see her. More pleased than she’d ever imagined he would be. ‘I thought you’d be here before the sound check.’

‘I was, Ulf made me wait with him. He didn’t want me distracting you.’

‘Bastard,’ Xane hissed. ‘I needed distracting.’ His lips found hers again and he drew her tight against his body. He’d already dressed in his stage-outfit, so that his dark, ragged shirt was open to the waist, and easy for her to slip her hands inside. All that was missing to transform him into the demon he was on stage, were his yellow cat’s eye contact lenses. Dani was glad they were missing. Without them she could see right into his soul. There was a great big gaping hole there caused by Steve Matlock’s death, that he was desperately trying to fill by clinging on to her.

‘So, you have a new drummer,’ she said, hoping it would prompt him to talk. He’d experienced a massive loss. He needed to talk, but every time she tried to prompt him to open up, he side-stepped the subject. The only way he seemed to express his grief was through his lyrics.

A shadow passed across the surface of Xane’s eyes. ‘Apparently.’

‘That must have been a hard decision to make. I know you loved Steve, and—’

He cut her off by covering her mouth with his fingertips. ‘Don’t. I have to go out there and sing. I can’t do that if you make me think about stuff. Yes, we have a new drummer. He’ll do. He’s not my choice.’

Given the mournful look in his eyes, she doubted he’d have chosen anyone.

‘OK,’ she agreed, though it was hard not to try and dig deeper and attempt to console him, when his sadness rolled off him in such tangible waves. ‘Did the others choose him?’

‘Tell me how you are. I’ve been worried sick about you facing those bitches alone. I wish you’d let me come with you.’

If she’d done that things would have got out of hand very quickly. ‘One of those bitches is my mum. And I needed to do it alone.’ Despite dreaming for years that he’d ride up and rescue her from captivity, she’d realised that the only way to truly be free of her past was to sever the links for herself. The final showdown between her and her mum hadn’t been pretty. And lord help her, there’d be no going back. ‘Besides, you had plenty stuff of your own to sort out.’ Such as tour preparations and grieving, and finding a way forward for the band. All those things were more important than having him hold her hand while she dealt with her screwy family.

‘Will they leave you alone?’

She nodded. Rather more permanently alone that she’d really wanted, but her mum wasn’t prepared to see reason. She wasn’t interested in Dani finding happiness, only in keeping her on a very short leash. She wasn’t about to discuss it with Xane, but she had about sixty quid in total to her name now. The sisterhood had reclaimed everything that was official theirs, which pretty much accounted for everything she owned that wasn’t jammed into the suitcase she’d left with Ulf. ‘Let’s discuss it later, eh? How long until the show starts?’

‘Not long.’

‘Long enough for me to wish you good luck?’ They both needed to push past events aside and to start living in the present again.

Xane eyed her thoughtfully, while he rotated the ring piercing at the centre of his lower lip. ‘What did you have in mind?’ The way his eyes suddenly glittered told her exactly what he was envisaging. In some ways he had the ultimate one track mind. Her problem was that she couldn’t resist reacting to him. She could never get enough of his hands on her skin, or the feel of his warm body pressed tight to hers, coupled with that was the fact that he was the most beautiful man she’d ever met—all long inky hair, hard body and wicked as sin smile. If she stared at him too long, she sometimes forgot to breath.

She rubbed a hand across the band of scars that girdled her hips, determined to ground herself a little. ‘Good luck.’ She lifted both her brows and shoulders.

‘That’s it?’ Xane quirked one eyebrow. ‘You come dashing into my dressing room right before I go on stage and all I get is two words.’

‘Would you rather I made it three?’

‘Depends on the words.’ He fixed on his prince of darkness mask. The one the fans went wild for and made the girlies panties wet. It made her pretty giddy too, but then everything about him called to her. She moved closer to him, drawn as though he were magnetically charged, tilted her head up towards him.

‘Is there time?’

‘Always, for this.’ His tongue met hers and slipped teasingly between her lips. It was barely any sort of step at all between that and being so slippery with need, that she was grinding her hips against his body in a hungry imitation of coitus. Xane had always been able to unmake her with her kiss. The man had a tongue so wicked he’d could probably overcome the Queen of Darkness with it… Oh, hang on, he had. Elspeth was his ex.

Xane slid one hand down her back and rested it at the base of her spine. Then both his palms skimmed over her bottom. He pulled her closer. ‘When you were late, I started thinking maybe you weren’t coming back. That those dreadful women had got to you and poisoned you against me.’

It still amazed her that he feared she’d leave him. She’d follow him to the ends of the earth and beyond. Dani pushed her hands inside his shirt again, traced the contours of his steely abs, while with her lips she sought his nipples. They were both pierced, though he appeared to have removed one ring.

‘Xane, they couldn’t stop me from loving you even before we met, they’ve no chance now.’ Their arguments were stupid and their logic flawed. Besides, even if it all ended tomorrow, it’d still have been worth it for the time they had spent together.

‘We’ve about ten minutes before they’re going to want me backstage.’

‘Yeah?’ Dani teased one of his nipple rings, sucking it into her mouth, so that she left a darker patch on the midnight blue fabric of his shirt. Xane hissed and arched against her, so that she could feel the growing swell of his erection pressed tight to her pussy. For all the horrors in his life, his ability to get turned on never seemed to diminish.

‘I just want you to know that’s not nearly enough time to do all the things I need to do to you.’ He cupped the side of her breast, rubbed her already tight nipples with the heel of hand. You’re so mine when this show is over.’


About Come Undone (Book #1)

On stage he’s dynamite. Off stage he rocks her world.

When red-hot, Goth-metal band, Black Halo, split live on stage, fate throws Daniella Fosbrook into the path of sexy vocalist Xane Geist. Initially, Xane’s only looking for a ride home, but Dani tempts him in a way a thousand other women haven’t. Determined to explore their heady chemistry and avoid hashing things out with the band, Xane whisks Dani off to Monaco for a steamy weekend.

There, Dani tries her best to hang onto her heart and some clothing, while Xane soon loses both. However, Xane isn’t being entirely honest about the reason for the band’s demise. When the truth comes out, can Dani accept the facts, or will everything come undone?

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bioMadelynne Ellis is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of erotic romance. Her novels and short stories have been published by a variety of houses Madelynne-Ellisincluding HarperCollins, Harlequin and Random House, and have been translated into several languages. She lives in the UK, not far from the Welsh border with her partner of 20 + years, their two adorable children, and a crazy cavachon puppy. Madelynne drinks decaf out of preference, and has a healthy obsession with a certain Japanese rock star. Her aim is to deliver scorching, character-driven stories that enchant, torment and don’t shy from darker aspects of life.

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