Back in My Life by Marie C.R. #erotic #romance @Mariecrauthor @RABTBookTours

 

Back%20in%20my%20LifeRomance / Erotica
Date Published: February 27, 2016
 
blurbBack in my Life is a story set in the beautiful cities of New York and Chicago. This story is not the typical and simple “boy meets girl, boy and girl get marry story.” This story is a powerful story that shows how real and unselfish love truly looks like. The love between Ruby and Clyde is an amazing and genuine love that survived everything that came in between them—even the most painful experiences that destiny had planned for them.

During a college internship at a prestigious New York magazine, Ruby Sparks (a journalist graduate student from Chicago) meets Clyde Holt, (a fellow intern and a creative photography student from a London based college) whom from day one became Ruby’s obsession and the new reason for her existence. After developing strong feelings for her emotionally unavailable friend, Ruby finds herself trapped in a whirlpool of emotions while trying to earn her friend’s love. What Ruby doesn’t know is that while she is looking for true love, Clyde’s presence in her life came with a different purpose.

Purchase Link

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Back-My-Life-Marie-C-R/dp/150259174X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1456615474&sr=1-1

excerpt

“Clyde, can I ask you a question?” asked Ruby while Clyde was about to open the door of her room to help her in.

“Yes, Ruby. You can ask me a question. But first, I need to get you in your room. You are too drunk to even stand for yourself,” said Clyde managing to open the door with one hand while holding Ruby with his other arm, making sure that she didn’t fall.

“Do you like me?”

“Ruby, please stop. Now is not the time for that,” said Clyde moving both of them inside of Ruby’s room and closing the door behind them.

“Please, tell me, Clyde, do you like me? Because I like you, Clyde. I really do,” said Ruby stumbling across the room still holding on to Clyde’s arm.

“Ruby, please. Let’s not talk about that now. I need to get you safe into your bed. Tomorrow, we can talk.”

“No, Clyde, I want to talk now. I need to know if you like me. I love you, Clyde. I do. And I can’t stand the way you look at me sometimes. The way you look at me tells me that you do like me, that you do feel something for me, but the way you act toward me tell me something else. I am confused, Clyde. I need to know what’s on your mind or I will go crazy,” yelled Ruby, unable to control the tears rolling down her cheeks while sitting at the edge of the bed. “Please, Clyde, I need to know. I need to know.”

Grabbing his hair with both of his hands and walking nervously around the room, Clyde came to the conclusion that it was time to tell the truth. It was time to tell Ruby how he felt. It was time to open his heart to her and let her know how important she was for him.

“Ruby, yes, I do like you. In fact, I love you. I am madly in love with you. But this can’t happen. I am a married man. I have to admit that I am not happy in my marriage. Actually, I don’t even know if I want to be in that marriage anymore, because my wife…she cheated on me, Ruby. Yes, I found her in bed with another man. My wife was having sex with another man in our own bed. There you have it. That’s the truth of my marriage. But you want to know why I can’t be with you? Because I think she is expecting my child. And if that’s the case, I need to be there for that kid, even if it means to stay with my her in a loveless fucking marriage,” yelled Clyde at the same moment he sat next to Ruby on the edge of the bed and while covering his face with both of his hands to cover the tears that were rolling down his face. He had finally told her the truth. At least one truth, the one about his marriage. Unfortunately, the other truth—the one about his job—that one he couldn’t tell. So he didn’t.

After hearing Clyde tell her his story, his secret, she felt bad. She knew something was happening in Clyde’s life, but she never imagined the magnitude of it. At first, she blamed everything on her being drunk and unable to understand correctly, but seeing Clyde’s terrible expression on his face proved to her that she had heard correctly. Clyde had just told her the truth and she felt bad for him, so bad that even in her drunken stage she tried to provide support to him, even when all she wanted, at that moment, was for him to make love to her and to forget about the pain he was carrying around.

“I am sorry to hear that, Clyde. I never meant to—”

“Stop! Please, stop. I don’t want to ruin the night with this,” gently said Clyde finally looking at Ruby with his face covered with tears. “I wanted this night to be special for you. I wanted you to have fun.”

“And I did, Clyde. I did. But I also needed to know the truth. I needed to know the reason of your empty-looking eyes. Now I know, and I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, Clyde. I will always do so. I hope that one day you can find that happiness that you deserve,” said Ruby while bringing her friend close to her and giving him a tender hug. “Everything is going to be okay, Clyde. I promise.”

What happened next was exactly what Clyde was trying to avoid since the moment he laid his eyes on Ruby. Having her there with him made him crave her touch even more, and without been able to control the furious passion that swamped his body, he grabbed her in his arms and with an uncontrollable desire, he started devouring her lips like he had never done to anyone before. In his mind, he knew that he needed to stop, but his body wasn’t responding to none of his commands.

“Clyde, I can’t believe I have you in my arms. Kiss me, please. Kiss me and never stop.”

“Shhh, kiss me, Ruby. I want to taste you, I want to feel you.”

“Made me yours, Clyde. I want to be yours.”

“I am planning to, Ruby. I am planning to. Just kiss me, my dear and I promise you, I will make you mine. All mine.”

“I want to be yours, Clyde. I want to make you forget. Use my body to forget, Clyde, and I promise you that when we wake up tomorrow, things will be different. I promise you, my love. Make me yours. I want to feel you inside of me. That’s all I have been thinking about since the first moment I met you.”

“Shhhh! Stop talking and enjoy the moment. Let the future take its course. But promise me that whatever happens between us tonight, you will never forget me. Promise me, Ruby. Promise me.”

“I promise you, Clyde. I will never forget you. You will always be in my heart. But please make me yours. I can’t wait any longer, Clyde. Make me yours, I beg you.”

So he did.

bioPhoto

I have been writing for pleasure for the past couple of years, but this is the first time I do a book tour so I am very excited for it. Writing is my passion, and I enjoy using real-life stories as the basis for my novels, but giving them a little twist to make them more melodramatic and breath-taking. I am also the author of Pamela’s Confessions and Confesiones del Alma. I currently live in Florida with my husband and three children.

 

Contact Information

Website: www.mariecrauthor.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariecrauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Mariecrauthor

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New Release from Lucy Felthouse – City Nights: One Night in Budapest (@cw1985) #newrelease #erotica #romance #newadult #NA #tirgearr

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OneNightinBudapestbyLucyFelthouse-500blurbHermione’s in Budapest on a romantic weekend break. Or at least it should have been romantic—an unexpected break-up means she’s visiting the Hungarian capital alone. Determined to make the most of it, she goes on a night-time river cruise, the perfect opportunity to see some of the city’s beautiful sights after dark.

On the boat, cute Budapest native Emil serves her cocktails. They chat a little on the journey, engage in some banter, and when Emil asks Hermione out for dinner, she’s seriously tempted. But she’s a long way from home, by herself—is dinner with a complete stranger a good idea? Hermione decides to take a chance, and what follows is an unforgettable night which will transform her life forever.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/ONiBudapest

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-budapest-lucy-felthouse/1123478763?ean=2940152889482

iBooks UK: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/one-night-in-budapest/id1088016111?mt=11

iBooks US: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-budapest/id1088016111?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-night-in-budapest

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/618193?ref=cw1985

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29345184-one-night-in-budapest

City Nights Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/CityNightsbyTirgearrPublishing/

excerpt

Locating the correct pier, Hermione pulled her ticket from her pocket and showed it to the girl welcoming passengers onto the boat. The girl—the badge pinned to her blouse giving her name as Reka—glanced at the ticket, and smiled. “Thank you. Please take a seat inside until the boat arrives. Enjoy your trip.”

With a nod, Hermione gingerly headed along the gangplank and boarded the vessel, wondering what Reka meant. Surely this was the boat? She shrugged, smiling at the other members of staff she passed, and followed the buzz of chatter to find the other passengers. Maybe it had been a misunderstanding, her meaning lost in translation or something.

Heading up a couple of steps to a bar room full of other tourists, she quickly took a seat at an empty table by the window. She’d have a great view of Budapest’s riverside highlights from here—and she was sure they’d look different again once night fell. Already the sky was darkening—it was almost four p.m. on a chilly January day.

She was so intent on admiring the Chain Bridge that she didn’t know there was anyone beside her until someone said, “Excuse me, madam? Would you like to take advantage of our special drinks offer?”

Turning to the source of the voice, her fluttering heart the only indication that she’d been startled, she smiled. “Maybe. What’s the offer?”

Her smile widened as she studied the man who’d spoken. He looked to be around her age—early twenties, and damn cute. Dark, slightly overlong hair curled on his head, deep brown eyes gave him an intensity that increased the flutters in her heart, and the dimpled smile he flashed as he replied lit up his handsome face. “It is happy hour. Two drinks for price of one.” He paused, looked at the empty seat beside her, then glanced over his shoulder as though checking if anyone was coming to join her at the table. “But perhaps you would only like one? Maybe I can see if yours can be half price…”

“It’s okay,” she replied firmly. “I’m going to be on the boat for a while, I’m sure I can manage two drinks. I don’t have to have them at the same time, do I?”

He shook his head. “No. I will be serving on the other boat in a moment, so I will look after you and your drinks to make sure you get special price.”

Immediately following his mention of an additional boat, a loud voice rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now ready for you to board the tour boat. Please be very careful while stepping from one boat to the other. As soon as you are all seated, we will begin the trip. Thank you.”

It was then Hermione realised that as she’d been gazing out of the window to one side, a smaller boat had pulled up alongside the one she was on. Everyone was getting up and moving to the staircase. “Thank you,” Hermione said, glancing at the man’s name badge. “Emil. I would absolutely like to take you up on your offer.”

He smiled, and she returned the gesture, only allowing the grimace to take over her face once she was out of his view. She was glad of any language barriers at that moment—hopefully it had prevented Emil recognising the blatant double entendre in her words, inadvertent though it had been.

As she emerged into the main space of the tour boat, she worried there wasn’t enough room for her and she might have to share a table with someone else. Not that it would be the end of the world, but over the past couple of days in the Hungarian capital, she’d become accustomed to her own company, even begun enjoying it. And the beautiful city had been more than enough of a distraction, in any case.

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bio

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Sweet Spot by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #erotica #romance #lesbian

sweetspotblurbVirginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London, England, to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.

But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy, and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career, or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?

Please note: This is a re-released title with a new cover—the book content hasn’t changed.

Amazon: http://mybook.to/sweetspot

Other buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sweet-spot/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21521972-sweet-spot

excerpt

Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.

“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”

I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.

“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”

My jaw almost hit the floor.

Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine, then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”

He babbled a load of thanks, then jogged out of the gym.

I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”

I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us, anyway. Probably not for Peter.

Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym, she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down, then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.

When I’d read and absorbed the words, I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.

The sign read,

PLEASE EXCUSE THE STATE OF THIS MACHINE. PETER ROSS, TENNIS COACH SUPREMO, “LOST TRACK OF TIME”.

bio

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Love on Location by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #mm #gay #lgbt #erotica #romance #ku

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blurb

When Theo Samuels heads off to film on location in the village of Stoneydale, he’s expecting drama to take place on camera, not off. But when he meets gorgeous local lad, Eddie Henderson, he struggles to ignore his attraction. A relationship between the two of them would be utterly impractical, yet they’re drawn together nonetheless. Can they overcome the seemingly endless hurdles between them? Or is their fling destined to remain as just that?

Note: Love on Location has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: On Boys boxed set.

Buy from Amazon, or read as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription: http://mybook.to/loveonlocation

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28373646-love-on-location

excerpt

Theodore Albert Samuels strode through Stoneydale Hall, barely giving the opulent furnishings, the priceless art or the stunning architecture a second glance. It belonged to him, after all. It was all his, his birthright, his inheritance.

He stopped suddenly. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, hoping none of the film crew were taking any notice of him. Looking over, it appeared they were still absorbed in figuring out lighting, props and where the actors should stand to get the best shots. Good—he wasn’t due to have a camera pointed at him for another two days; plenty of time to get his head around his role. And it was imperative he did—it was his biggest and highest profile part to date. If he got this right, it could truly launch his career. Maybe even into Oscar-winning territory.

Taking several deep breaths, he pulled himself up to his full height of 6ft 4” and adopted a haughty, disinterested manner—channelling Mr Darcy, perhaps? Either the one from Pride and Prejudice or Bridget Jones’ Diary would do.

I am William Arthur Stoneydale. And this property is mine.

They’d pretty much been given the run of the house—the real owners having gone to the south of France for the summer—so Theo continued marching around, upstairs and down, pulling in everything he could from his surroundings to make him truly feel like lord of the manor.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his mop of black curls and headed out into the gardens. They were beautiful; all manicured lawns, parterres, rose gardens, arches and perfectly placed shrubs. Despite the perfection, Theo felt more comfortable here—probably because he’d always been an outdoorsy sort, ever since he was a child. Only the strict yet loving influences of his parents had coaxed him inside to do his homework, study for his exams and eventually land himself a place at The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, better known as RADA.

The latter had been completely his choice—his mother and father had only wanted him to work hard and do his best. His career options had not been chosen by them, only supported.

Slumping onto a bench, Theo reminded himself of his parents’ wholehearted support and belief. That, and the fact he’d graduated from RADA with a first. Following that, he’d gone from strength to strength.

“Come on, Theo,” he muttered to himself. “You can do this. It’s just another role. A role you can play. Can be.”

His solo pep talk was interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel. Then, from behind a line of expertly done topiary appeared a young man, perhaps a few years Theo’s junior.

“Oh,” the other man said, slowing as he spotted Theo, “sorry. Didn’t know anyone would be out here. You’re not filming, are you?” He looked around for cameras. “I was told it wouldn’t be for a few days, give me time to finish—”

Theo cut him off. “Relax, mate, there’s no filming today. Not anywhere. The crew are still setting things up.”

The other man heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s all right then. Gave me a fright, that did. I need to make sure everything’s spot on in the gardens before they get rolling. So, what’s the star of the show doing out here by himself, anyway?”

Theo gave a wry grin. “Oh, I don’t know about star.”

The man made a scoffing sound. Then, “That’s not what I’ve heard. I’m Eddie, by the way. Eddie Henderson.”

Theo took the hand that was offered, and shook it. “Theodore Samuels. Theo. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. So, you never answered my question. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Theo said with a shrug. “Just nerves, I think. I’m struggling to get into the right mindset for this character. But I’ve got a couple of days—so I won’t panic just yet. Actually,” he paused as a bright idea illuminated his brain, “could I ask you something?”

Eddie took a seat beside Theo on the bench, and it was only when they were up close and personal that he realised just how handsome the younger man was. He had a lightly-muscled build, ginger hair, a riot of freckles on his face and forearms, blue-green eyes and a slight gap between his two front teeth. Cute and sexy all at once. Christ, he’s going to be trouble.

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bio

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Cupid by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 @evernightpub) #holiday #christmas #erotica #romance #shifter #paranormal #pnr

Cupid-EvernightPublishing-Jayaheer2015-banner1

Out Now! Cupid by Lucy Felthouse

 

Cupid-EvernightPublishing-Jayaheer2015-smallpreviewblurbAs a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.

One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.

Has Cupid finally met his match?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/cupid/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27255784-cupid

 

excerptCassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.

Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.

He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.

He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.

Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.

Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.

He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.

The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.

The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.

As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.

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bio

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 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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Dying in Pleasure by Lady Ristretto {@LadyRistretto4u} #paranormal #historical #erotica

Dying In Pleasure Banner 851 x 315

dyingkindleDying in Pleasure
Lady Ristretto

Genre: paranormal/historical erotica

Publisher: Lady Ristretto

Date of Publication: April 1, 2015

ASIN: B00VHIM7UA

Number of pages: 385
Word Count: 102,000

Cover Artist: Ebooks Covers Design 

blurbLucia, the daughter of the richest family in Pompeii, disappears one night. The mystery goes unsolved and life moves on. The lives of Pompeii’s citizens intertwine: Ibis, a prostitute running the whorehouse owned by the Aedile, a city official, gets murdered by his wife Lucy. Lucy falls in love with Narcissus, the most treasured gladiator in Pompeii. The Aedile’s daughter, Julia, marries Rust, the man suspected to have murdered Lucia. Maro, Lucia’s slave, holds the families together and eventually discovers Lucia when she reappears in Pompeii twenty years later, and as a witch.

The events in Pompeii converged and lead to its ultimate, inevitable destruction. Only Lucia can help the city and save lives. In a ceremony requiring possession by a god, murder, and necromancy, Lucia discovers what is going to happen. But not everyone manages to get away.

Dying in Pleasure brings to life the long dead city of Pompeii, showing its citizens as vibrant, eccentric pleasure seekers. History, pain, violence and ritual blend in a pansexual orgy that is both exciting and extreme from beginning to end.

Available for Nook and Kindle

excerptLUCIA REFERRED to her patron goddess as Father. It was more respectful, a gesture insisted upon to mirror and mock Lucia’s upbringing: the Roman father is the family’s absolute authority. His power is unquestioned. The lives of his family are to do with as he wishes. In essence, he is the god of the family.

Lucia howled in rage on the hills; it wasn’t a wholly unique incident, but it wasn’t uninspired by Rust and Maro either. Lucia had grown accustomed to venting her rage in loud spectacles in nature. Her Father was pleased and Lucia could hear Her approval. She liked Lucia to explode: to remain pent up, repressed, and quiet not only kept the emotions in, it kept her power in.
Lucia wanted to wander the fields and find Father in the wilderness, but she was nervous to stray too far from the villa. On the edge of the woods, now darkening in dusk, Lucia could smell Bacchus out there; He was running toward her at full speed, like an animal galloping toward its prey. She could hear blood engorge His Penis, and the sound was a storm in her ears. If she stepped into His wilderness, He would fall upon her. Father would think the action, the willingness to enter the realm of another god, as disloyalty, a kind of cheating, and give Lucia up to His angry hunger.

Walking the opposite direction, Lucia started on the road back toward the city, to the necropolis she had visited during the night. The trip had been fruitless—the dead shrinking in terror from her like beaten dogs. She was used to fear, but nothing this intense or reckless. The dead were insulting in their terror, shrieking silent obscenities at her. Rather than taking it badly, and snuffing out what little power their trapped souls possessed, she walked away silently and curious.

Lucia returned to the entombed urns, and felt them quake from her approach. Normally, having received such hostility and unwillingness from the dead to be helpful, Lucia would respond with threats and violence. Perhaps seduction was more in order.

In the language of the dead, Lucia said, “Don’t be afraid. I need your help.”

In their language (with Latin accents from the freshly deceased, who still retained memories of Latin), they replied in an overlapping, echoing gaggle of sounds: “Keep away.”

“I only want to speak with one of you.”

“Away,” they whimpered dusty, silent heaves.

“One of you approached me. One of you has been haunting my dreams. One of you brought me back to Pompeii. I want to speak with her. If you help me find her so I can speak to her, I will do you no harm. I swear by my Father.” Lucia, of course, didn’t use the term Father to the dead—she used one of her goddess’s real name, the name in the language of the dead. It made the dead shake, the necropolis stones tremble. Her seriousness startled them; she was trapped by her oath, and they knew her Father would make her keep it.
They had no choice really but to answer her, for by refusing would bring her wrath down upon them. They echoed and reechoed, chanted one word which became for them a plead for peace: Ibis.

Repeating the name to herself, Lucia let Ibis bring her to her. There was a small entombment on the east side where the dead poor lodged. The tombs were less than tombs, less than places for remembering, inhabited by people who were hardly regarded in their lifetimes; but these were ghettos for ashes also thought too powerful to allow in the city, or cast aside in a rubbish heap. Dead beggars, madmen, slaves, whores, and gladiators there trembled at Lucia’s approach. Her voice thundered Ibis and the souls swept aside as if by a blast of wind, leaving Ibis alone to face her. Invisible, but a clear, solid form to Lucia herself, Ibis stood facing this woman she knew in life only as a legend.

Lucia glared through Ibis’s formlessness and forced the soul of the dead prostitute to assume a physical form. Only so Lucia would have something to look at and speak to. Even Lucia preferred to have a face when having a conversation: Lucia treasured the luxury of normalcy and insisted upon it whenever dealing with the dead—no matter what pain it caused. Ibis winced in the cramped confinement being in her former shape.

“Tell me what you want.”

Ibis’s mouth moved, and Lucia knew it would require a few moments for Ibis to accustom herself to her form again. She sighed impatiently: she had no patience for the dead, and their suffering, struggles, and pain angered and annoyed her. At first, speaking with the dead had been a horror. Repetition made it an annoyance, and sometimes Lucia wondered if her severe irritation was only self-protection.

Ibis was especially bothersome to Lucia. In form and in formlessness, Ibis was stained as murdered souls are.

“Help. Julius,” Ibis said with trembling lips. She spoke not normally, but in a shrieking rage. The stones quivered.

Lucia sighed. “Julius who?”

“The Aedile.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Tell. Him. Go. To. Rome.”

“I have no time to be running errands for you,” Lucia said.

“Please. Please.”

“I have been begged by more pathetic souls than you and if you annoy me more I will extinguish you.”

“Then why speak to me at all?” Ibis asked.

She advanced on Ibis but Ibis didn’t move. Lucia found herself staring closely into the pained face struggling to hold itself together. Lucia could see how Ibis’s pale cheeks swarmed in flesh colors like millions of bees. There was even a small buzz of energy. It was more disturbing that Ibis didn’t flinch. Lucia wasn’t accustomed to seeing the dead this close. Lucia arched her eyebrows. It was rare to find a dead soul with the ability to think quickly. “You brought me to Pompeii for a reason. I thought it was for something more important than carrying messages.”

“I didn’t bring you,” Ibis said. “You came on your own. You wanted to come home.”

Lucia opened her mouth to argue, but couldn’t find anything to say. She felt shame, as it was entirely possible it was true.

Ibis said, “Help Julius. Something horrible will happen to him.”
“I don’t care about the Aedile.”

“Something horrible. Something horrible.”

Lucia stepped back as Ibis began to cry. Ibis’s tears were bloody.

Normally, this would not be enough to move Lucia. She had heard more virulent entreaties and extinguished these souls who asked for less. But as Ibis cried—an unusual occurrence for a soul—the other dead echoed her “Something horrible”. Then it became a chant of “horrible horrible horrible”, not just in this necropolis, but all over Pompeii. As if all the dead were chanting to Lucia.

This had never happened before, and Lucia felt afraid.

bioLady Ristretto spent the beginning of her career writing under her real name and as a playwright. She has aIMG_3888 BA in English from UCLA and an MFA in playwriting from Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. Her plays were produced in Illinois and Texas, and her most popular work, Wonderland in Alice: The Uncertainty Principle was produced in New York off off off Broadway.

Her first book, Dying in Pleasure, had been a full length play that was rejected as her thesis play: the professors on her committee felt it was too misogynistic and violent for undergraduates to stage. Always stubborn and obsessed, Lady Ristretto spent years rewriting the play into a novel and has recently published it as an ebook on Amazon and Nook. Lady has recently become obsessed with cricket and deeply wishes America would form a formidable team which is worthy to compete in the World Cup.

http://www.ladyristretto.com

https://twitter.com/LadyRistretto4u

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https://tablo.io/lady-ristretto

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http://selfpublishersshowcase.com/lady-ristretto/

https://www.goodreads.com/ladyristretto

bewitching tag

 

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

GirlsWillBeGirls_LucyFelthouseblurb

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 
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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bioLucy 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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Interview: Justice for Me by TS McKinney and BJ Grinder (Kindle Fire #Giveaway) @TSMcKinney1 @BJGrinder1 @PridePromo

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Justice For Me 1aJustice for Me

 TS McKinney and BJ Grinder

Release Date: August 13, 2015

Cover Artist – Eden Connors

Pages or Words: 110,700 words

Categories: BDSM, Bisexual, Erotica, M/M Romance, Menage/Poly, Romance

blurbAll Malachi wanted was to forget about the shit-show they’d all just endured with Victor and Nicholas and spend the rest of his life with the love of his life…Megan.  That’s what he thought he wanted.  What he found out was that giving up his desire to be a Dom isn’t as easy as he thought it would be and Megan isn’t about to pretend like she is sexually submissive.  Not gonna happen!  They love each other tremendously but just need another…addition to their party of two.  Malachi needs an obedient, quiet, and trained male submissive to fulfill the Dom inside of him. Megan needs a submissive that has enough experience in the BDSM world that is still new to her.

That isn’t what either of them gets.

Justice Conners.  He’s the opposite of everything they wanted…but is he just what they both needed?

Interview

Welcome to All I Want and More. We’re glad to have you here.

Tell us a little bit about yourself?

BJ and I live in a tiny town in Tennessee – where everybody knows all your business (and if they don’t, they will make it up!). BJ has about a million kids (4) and TS is a non-breeder. We both love all animals and fill our houses with as many as we can scoop up! When peeps we work with question us about the exceptionally naughty things in our books – we blame each other!

In this book, who was your favorite character to write and why?

Justice, for sure! He is adorably sweet and super sexy! I love that he was fearless regarding his sexual relationship with Malachi and Megan but so, so vulnerable with his head and heart.

What 3 words would you use to describe your main characters?

Hot, vulnerable, & courageous

Can you tell us a little bit about this book? Maybe a little snippet?

Justice for Me is the sequel to Wait for Me but can be read as a standalone. Reading Wait for Me would certainly help the reader hate Nicholas with the proper amount of hatred and love Malachi with the proper amount of uzzy, smoozy love (lust)! In Wait for Me, the reader is introduced to Malachi and Megan and how they become a couple. Justice for Me introduces Justice to the mix and gives Malachi and Megan just what they are looking for! It starts out a bit rocky (because Malachi makes it a general rule to dislike everyone on sight) but the reader will most definitely get their happy ending! Our favorite Malachi quote from the book – “I would rather get a root canal through my ass than spend another minute with that brat (Justice)!”

We’re cover hussies..What was your first impression of this cover?

Duh…Malachi is HOT! Justice and Megan are LUCKY to be getting them some of that!

What does writing mean to you?

Writing is a way to escape to a place created solely for our pleasure!!

What do you hope readers take away after reading one of your books?

In Justice for Me, Justice struggles with insecurities created by his rough childhood. He is ashamed of what he considers to be a ‘weakness’ and tries to hide his issues from his lovers – which is dangerous in a BDSM relationship because trust is so very important. I want the readers to realize that none of us have anything to be ashamed of – our life experiences have molded us to be the survivors we are. Secondly, always take chances in life!

If you had a technology free day, what would you do?

Snuggle up with my puppies and kitties – and worry myself silly about what I was missing on Facebook!

Quickie Time

Sexiest feature on a wo/man? Butts – I’m really into the bubble butt!!

What is on your night stand/dresser? Cotton Candy candle, remote, & pic of my hubz

Tattoos or piercings? I wish

Secret talent? Pet rescuer

What’s your guilty pleasure? Cotton Candy

Celebrity crush? Charlie Hunnam

Night owl or early bird? Early bird

Twitter or Facebook? Facebook

Pinterest or Instagram? Pinterest

ebooks or paperbacks? ebooks

Is there anything else you like to add?

We hope everybody enjoys Justice for Me!! Justice and Malachi are about as hot as it gets and Megan is the glue that holds them together! The three of them working together will steam your ebook reader!

excerpt

“Take your sweats off.”

Malachi’s demand came in the sexiest sounding voice he’d ever heard. It was deep and husky, firm and unyielding. Prickling sensations started at his scalp and worked its way down the rest of his body, leaving him humming with the same feeling he’d gotten the minute Malachi had slapped those cuffs around his wrists last night.

“Wh…what? He stuttered like a stupid school kid. Instead of sexy like Malachi, his voice sounded several octaves higher than normal.

“Take. Your. Sweats. Off.” Malachi’s eyes swept the boy from top to bottom, loving the way his exhausted muscles were quivering and coated with sweat. A man’s body was always more beautiful after pumping iron; muscles standing out and begging to be seen.

Violet eyes challenged pale blue eyes. Shyness struggled with desire. Heterosexual battled against…what the fuck am I doing?

Sweat pants came off and were tossed aside. “Okay. Sweat pants gone. What now, Malachi?”

Malachi’s breath came out in a huff. The kid’s body was…

Damn, he wanted to dominate, punish, and fuck this kid so badly. More than that, he wanted Justice to want it.

“I’m going to look at you. Stay still; arms out to your side and legs spread.”

The kid moved into position without the slightest hesitation.

Malachi walked around him, admiring every detail in the work of art formally known as annoying Justice. The boy’s eyes glittered as he watched Malachi watching him. No; nothing submissive at all in that gaze…until Malachi demanded it of him. The defiance was…fetching. He’d never found it attractive in a sub before, but it fit Justice well.

His fingers grazed his shoulders, tracing the length of firmly muscled arms until he reached a wrist. He’d noticed the boy had a tattoo around each wrist, like a bracelet of some kind. Looking closely now, he saw it was decorative letters. FOCUS; on the right wrist. LET GO; on the left wrist. He also noticed the kid tensed up like a man at his first prostrate examination the minute his fingertips touched the first wrist.

“What do these words mean?”

“Nothing of importance,” Justice answered in a clipped voice that didn’t fit the boy at all.

“It must be important for you to permanently mark yourself with it. Private, maybe?”

Justice tried to offer a nonchalant shrug. He thought he’d succeeded, but he hadn’t. Malachi just decided to let it ride for now.

“I got them when I was seventeen. Everything’s fucked up when you’re seventeen so who knows what the hell I was thinking? It was probably the answers to some pop quiz I thought I was going to have to take.”

Malachi seriously doubted it. At seventeen, a parent had to sign off on a tattoo. “Let’s say we’ll revisit that one at a later date, okay?” He kept walking around the kid, admiring, commenting, touching with soft touches that he suspected was lighting the boy on fire. “You asked me this morning about last night; about it being…weird, I believe is the word you used to describe it.” He paused when he stood directly in front of Justice. “Why would you call it weird?”

Justice’s eyes darted to the left and then the right, a carefree smirk on his face. “Eh, maybe because I got turned on by a grown man spanking my ass,” he suggested. “Or maybe it was because I let a man threaten to fuck my ass…while giving me a hand job and I had the best fucking orgasm I can ever remember having?” He shrugged. “The last time I checked, I was totally into the babes. Dudes were off limits.”

A soft chuckle tickled Justice’s ears, making him turn what he suspected was a very feminine shade of fucking pink. The chuckle wasn’t Malachi laughing; it was Malachi laughing at him. Perfect.

“Not into dudes, huh?” Malachi asked. “You could have fooled me.”

“Yea, I get that,” Justice said between gritted teeth. “No need to keep waving that flag in my face, asshole. The fuck knows it has to be your looks because it damn well can’t be your personality that had me going all ‘ass-up’.”

The kid was refreshingly honest. Rarely surprised by people, Malachi couldn’t help but be shocked by how the boy kept surprising him; one time right after another. “Does it bother you? That you might ‘be into dudes’?” He had to ask.

Another shrug. “No…I don’t know. I have a lot of gay friends. I guess I just didn’t know I might be one of them.”

“I’ve seen you chasing skirts, Justice. I’m pretty certain you aren’t gay; maybe not even bisexual. It could be that your body just enjoyed the discipline…the domination, and you responded sexually.”

No, Justice was fairly certain that wasn’t it. Sure, there was no questioning the domination scene had gotten his body, mind, heart, and soul on fire, but it was more than that. It was Malachi. Every fucking thing about Malachi, how totally opposite he was from himself, had caused him to be on edge, hypersensitive to everything the man did from the first moment he noticed his posture and the strong glint in his eyes up until he’d tossed him over his shoulder and tied him up.

It would be easy to take what he would consider the coward’s way out and blame it solely on a physical response from getting what he’d been wanting for oh so long, but he wasn’t a coward. He could be accused of a lot of things, most of them not good, but a coward he was not. He faced outward demons without hesitation. It was the inner demons that always did him in.

If he was gay; he was gay. If he was bisexual; he was bisexual. Those issues didn’t worry him that much or at least probably not as much as they should. What did worry him was how he was going to convince the cold-as-ice man to keep playing with him, like he’d mentioned last night. This lifestyle…this playtime with Malachi was safe for him; his body got to submit and his head didn’t have to get involved. This wasn’t a relationship where he would have to try to maneuver around and read how people felt, what they wanted, if they really cared…

If he understood the little bit of research he had done on the BDSM lifestyle, Malachi was a dominant that wanted him to submit to him; nothing more, nothing less.

He struggled to come up with the right thing to say to the man that would push him into the direction he wanted to go. “It’s no doubt my body responded to what you did physically but I definitely didn’t get turned off by your touching me…sexually.” He cocked a brow at the bigger, much more confident man. “Are you afraid I’ll cry rape or sexual abuse to my daddy? Maybe after you tie me up, spank my ass, and do what-the-fuck-else ever to me, I’ll get the heebie jeebies and instead of admitting I liked it, file myself an FBI complaint?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry old man. It won’t happen. I accept the consequences for my actions.”

Malachi had remained silent as he watched the boy closely; watched all the strange emotions flicker across his face as he contemplated what might lay ahead between the two of them. It was fairly obvious the BDSM lifestyle was something he had considered prior to getting his ass hog-tied and whipped and his cock manhandled. All the signals that he had missed originally were out in the open now. The boy was virtually screaming to be initiated; to take a sample and see if he liked it.

There were other emotions dancing around in those wide blue eyes; things Malachi didn’t understand or couldn’t read. It was somewhat troubling but not enough to make him want to rethink what he and Megan had discussed. Justice seemed solid and self-assured. He had the feeling the kid tackled everything he did, from talking to learning to submit, with every ounce of energy bridled up in that lean body of his.

He would be fun. He would be exciting. He would be frisky. And, if Malachi wasn’t mistaken, he would be an excellent submissive. His body had responded marvelously last night. The sassy mouth on the kid seemed to vanish whenever an order was given to him. Justice, God bless him, looked like he’d be able to handle about anything Malachi threw his way…and follow it up with a ‘thank you, sir’.

“In your mind, Justice, what do you think is going to happen between us? I look at your face, into your pretty blue eyes, and you have all sorts of ideas dancing around in there. Tell me some of them. What do you see happening?” He needed to hear the boy say it with his own lips. For the first time in his life, Malachi wasn’t certain he trusted his own judgment regarding a potential submissive. Unsure of whether it was the fact that he’d met and fallen in love with his un-submissive Megan or maybe he was terrified that he just missed the lifestyle so damned badly that he was creating something that wasn’t really there, Malachi had to hear it straight from those perpetually swollen lips belonging to the boy.

Justice felt his teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he pondered Malachi’s question. Shit; could he even say it out loud? What if the man laughed at him? What if this was some big ‘pay-back’ for sneaking off? What if it wasn’t? “Well, I only know about the shit I’ve read on the internet, so I’m afraid you might not like my answer. I don’t want to say something wrong. I don’t want to say something that might make you decide not to want me…that way.”

Strange choice of words, Malachi thought as his eyes stayed focused on how the kid kept worrying that damned bottom lip. Because he knew it wasn’t purposely used to entice him, it made it one of the sexiest damn things Malachi had ever seen in his life. It was no wonder why the kid’s lips were always red and swollen like he’d just been thoroughly kissed or fucked in the mouth.

“Ah, the internet; the breeding ground for fools,” he said with a smirk but continued, “but it does manage to offer some educational benefit on occasion. Tell me, pup, what have you seen that made you think you might be interested in giving the whole BDSM lifestyle more than a passing glance?”

Justice felt his face burn red but his determination didn’t waiver. Focus on what you want. His fingers itched to touch the tattoo, but he wouldn’t allow it. “I…I liked the pictures of people being tied up; all sorts of ropes and locks.” His voice dropped even lower, as did his eyes, when he added, “In all sorts of positions.”

Not much in the world prettier than a pretty blushing for you, Malachi thought to himself. Justice had blushing down to an art. “So you think you would like being tied up? Is that why you got so calm in the vehicle on the way home last night? When I opened the back hatch, you looked very…peaceful. Was that because of the restraints?”

“I think so.”

A deep breath and another nibble of the bottom lip, followed by a swipe of a pink tongue across both lips, finished the boy’s thoughts.

“Excellent.” Malachi paused, wondering if he boy would have the courage to raise those pretty eyes and face him. No, it appeared he was still incredibly interested in the floor. “I like restraints. I like them very much, as a matter of fact.”

“Ummmm.” Well, fuck, that was an intelligent response.

“Do you want to try it, Justice? Do you want me to introduce you into my world; teach you some things? Let you try it and see if it is what you think it might be? See if your body will enjoy it as much as we both think it will?”

Blue eyes jumped up to meet his. Finally.

“Yes,” he answered softly. Then, more firmly, he said, “Yes, I do.”

 

Sales Links: http://www.darkhollowspress.com/#!justice-for-me/c10m9

bio

TS McKinney lives in East Tennessee with her high school sweetheart/husband and all the countless dogs she picks up from deserted country roads. Her professional career has been in business but her heart has always belonged to the fantasy world found in books. Creating wicked worlds where one can meet the perfect hero – and then do anything to him that you want – has been a hobby that has brought her plenty of hours of fun and naughty entertainment.

When not working, reading, or writing, she loves to spend time with her family and forcing them (because they don’t really have another choice) to allow her to redecorate their houses…and listen to her naughty…sometimes sadistic stories.

BJ Grinder lives in Smalltown, Tennessee where the residents know everything and everyone (not always a good thing). She enjoys writing, zombies, and garage sales. She has an unhealthy relationship with her Kindle, which demands most of her time – at least what her 4 children don’t take up!

 

Where to find the author:

TS McKinney

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006245056875

https://twitter.com/TSMcKinney1

BJ Grinder Twitter

https://www.facebook.com/bjeangrinder

Goodreads Link:

Publisher: Dark Hollows Press

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 Tour Giveaway

Prize: Kindle Fire HD7
 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tour Dates & Stops: August 13 – 19, 2015

13-Aug

Mikky’s World of Books

Love Bytes

14-Aug

Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

MM Good Book Reviews

Book Reviews and More by Kathy

17-Aug

My Fiction Nook

Inked Rainbow Reads

Up All Night, Read All Day

All I Want and More Books

18-Aug

Molly Lolly

Emotion in Motion

Prism Book Alliance

19-Aug

Happily Ever Chapter

Velvet Panic

Jessie G. Books

Rainbow Gold Reviews

WillPride

Fall (Natalie’s Edge #2) by R.B. O’Brien #EARTG #BDSM #romance #erotica

nataliesedgeseries

fallblurbAt the edge of trust often lies a little betrayal…

As Shakespeare wrote, “The course of true love never did run smooth,” and the love between Michael L. Black and Natalie Smith is no exception.

Having fallen deeply in love with one another, Michael and Natalie’s passionate and, at times, tumultuous relationship continues to teeter on the edge of happiness as they explore their deepest and sometimes darkest desires of games, bondage, and sex. Michael’s dominant tendencies thrive as Natalie craves to submit her body and mind to him, bringing her to sometimes excruciating pleasure. Love never felt so right.

But their relationship will be tested. Truths are hidden. Secrets are revealed. And when Michael’s insecurities inflame his penchant for control and punishment, all the trust and love they have worked so hard to build dismantles itself within one split second. Will they forgive and trust one another again? Or will the betrayal leave them on the edge of devastation?

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excerpt

He crouched over me, like a lion over its prey, his eyes burning holes into my body, looking me up and down, undressing me, and fucking me with his now black eyes. I couldn’t help but moan, losing any anger I had towards him. Only lust remained as I squirmed under his gaze. He rolled onto his side.      “Stand up. Take off your costume, Natalie. Let me look at you. And do not hesitate, do not overthink this, or become shy, or let your guilt take over. Obey me this time, would you? I want to see your body. You’ve teased me enough with this outfit tonight, don’t you think?”      Oh my god. I had teased him? What? To think that I had some effect on him, the way he affected me all the time, was liberating, empowering. I slowly stripped as he stayed lying down on the rug, head propped on his elbow, staring up at me. I was embarrassed at how quickly I had lost my anger, how quickly I always lost my anger around him. Only moments earlier, I was ready to tear into him, give him a solid piece of my mind. Now, I was dripping wet and at his mercy. I liked obeying him. Plain and simple. It turned me on.      “Wait. Leave on those tiny, taunting panties of yours, and put your pointe shoes back on. Get up on your toes, Natalie, and stay there for me. Let the fire warm and illuminate your beautiful body.”      My empowerment was lost, replaced with an uncomfortable embarrassment, but I did exactly as he asked. I finished tying up my pointe shoes, got on my toes with my back facing him, the fire warming my front, and looked over my shoulder at him shyly. He just stayed there, staring at me, for what felt like an eternity. But god, I wanted him more than I ever had before. “You are so frustrating,” I whispered. “I was so mad at you.”      “Sssh. No talking,” he said darkly. “Stay right there. Do not move a muscle. Or I will punish you.”      I obeyed, staying on my toes, tightening the muscles in my legs, my ass. It was beginning to hurt.      “You’re beautiful,” he said simply, barely above a whisper.      “Michael. It’s starting to hurt. I can’t hold it much longer.”      “Good. I want you to hurt for me. I want you to feel what I felt earlier.”      I could feel my body weakening. I began to shake. I looked back at him, pleading with my eyes for him to stop, and yet, I loved his control. I had a sick desire to obey him at all turns. Pain and pleasure always felt right with him. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he finally said, “Good girl. Come over here.” He smirked at the power he wielded over me. “Lie down next to me on your stomach. Spread your legs. I am going to grant your wish.”      I held my breath, as again, I did exactly as he asked, lying down on my stomach, inches away from his body. The cramps in my legs slowly subsided. He turned my face to the side to force me to look at him. “Breathe, Natalie,” he instructed as I exhaled into his now probing mouth. He flicked his tongue and sucked my mouth. I moaned and began to grind slightly into the soft, plush rug that tickled my body underneath it. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. There was no other contact between us. I wanted his cock in me.      “Fuck me,” I begged again.      “Yes,” he said, but did nothing but continue to kiss me, holding my swollen mouth to his with his hands tightly gripping my hair. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t move.      “Michael…”      He released my hair. I felt the heavy pressure of his lips against mine. He began to lightly flick his tongue on my tongue, teasingly, sensually. He was dripping in confidence as he smiled and licked me endlessly. I had never been turned on like this from mere kissing. My pussy throbbed, lying on my stomach, waiting in anticipation for him to fuck me.      He stopped all contact with me and stood up, slowly removing his jeans to reveal his throbbing cock. He smoothed a condom over it and saying nothing, he stood over me, removed my soaking wet panties, and spread my legs wide with his feet until I was sprawled out completely in front of him, flat on my stomach. I wiggled my pussy into the rug, and he still said nothing. He didn’t tell me to lie still. He didn’t tell me to be quiet. He just stood there, agonizingly, over me, as I lay there, feeling exposed and helpless and full of want and need.      Slowly, ever so slowly, he got down on his knees and again, just stayed there, tracing his fingers over my pointe shoes, up my calves over the ribbon laces, as my breathing quickened and my chest rose and fell in heaving anticipation. I was starting to lose my mind, panting, squirming, and wanting.      “Please,” I begged.      He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit, exposing its wetness and I moaned, lifting my ass a bit in the air to reach his cock. Again, he said nothing, but he thrust his palms forcefully on my ass and lower back, pressing me into the soft fabric of the rug again. He held me in place, legs spread wide, as he tickled my pussy and clit with the light stroke of his cock. I moaned and started to grind against his cock and he slammed it into me, startling me.

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bioI can’t remember not reading.  Even now, I constantly toggle between two to five books on my Kindle in all genres.  But I have always been drawn to the more taboo side of storytelling, even as a young adult, from hiding books from my strict Catholic parents as a tween, to getting lost in the erotic section of my favorite bookstore for hours as a college student, discovering such greats as Henry Miller and Pauline Réage.

In my own writing, which I can’t describe as anything but a “trance-like compulsion,” I like to explore the darker nature of relationships, those riddled with the reality of insecurities and human folly.  I am drawn to expose the vulnerability, emotional turmoil, and occasional pain that can come from losing oneself in the heat of passion.

I hold a degree in English literature and happily reside in the Northeast. I teach English and Shakespeare by day and write erotica every other chance I get. My writing comes from some hidden, unrecognizable place, very different from the reality of my waking world.  I am in love with E.E. Cummings and try to embrace the philosophical idea of “Since Feeling is First” when I write my stories.

Email:  rbobrien120@gmail.com

Websitehttp://rbobrien.weebly.com

Twitterhttps://twitter.com/rbobrien120

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25542300-fall

 

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Out Now – Multi-Orgasmic: A Collection of Erotic Short Stories by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #erotic #ebook #ku #kindleunlimited

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multiorgasmicblurbFrom the pen of award-winning erotica author Lucy Felthouse comes a collection of short stories and flash fiction sure to hit the spot.

There’s something for everyone nestling between the pages of this sexy anthology. From spanking to voyeurism, bondage to pegging, solo loving to ménage, with a sprinkling of femdom, maledom and magic, fans of M/F erotic stories will soon discover why this book is described as multi-orgasmic.

Enjoy twenty one titillating tales, over 52,000 words of naughtiness packed into one steamy read.

Please note: Many of the stories in this book have been previously published in anthologies and online, but three of the tales are brand new and never-seen-before!

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excerptPrivate Jesse Bagnall glowered and muttered to himself all the way to the mess. He’d just been bawled out by Corporal Roxanne Grey—yet again—and he was getting seriously fed up of it. He knew he wasn’t perfect in the drill exercises, but then nor were any of the other guys. It was like she was singling him out and aiming all her abuse in his direction. Being shouted at was to be expected in the army—it was almost part of the job description—but Corporal Grey’s attitude was bordering on discriminatory, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Especially without looking like a total pussy.

Spotting some of his closest friends at a table towards the back of the mess, he caught the eye of one of them—Matt Kay—raised a hand in greeting, then got in line for his food.

Several minutes later he loaded his cup of tea onto his tray along with everything else and headed over to where he’d seen Matt and the boys. Hopefully they’d take his mind off the Queen Bitch. They were always game for a laugh.

“All right, lads?” he said, sliding his tray onto the table and taking a seat.

There were mumbles of assent.

“Yeah,” replied Ed Patterson. “You?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Ed raised an eyebrow, and the other men turned their attention to Jesse, too. “Well,” Ed said, “that wasn’t very convincing. What’s up, mate?”

Jesse sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the drill instructor.”

His friends exchanged confused looks. “Care to elaborate?” Matt said.

Not wanting to look like a wimp in front of his mates, Jesse changed his tone. But once he had, the anger took over him. “She’s a fucking bitch, that’s what!”

The confused expressions turned to surprised ones.

“I’m fed up of her treating me like a twat. I know it’s her job to bawl us out, but she takes it too far. I do my fucking best, work my arse off, and it’s still not good enough for her.”

He barely noticed the gazes of his friends shifting slightly, and carried on regardless. “She definitely picks on me more than everyone else. As though I’ve seen sitting on my arse when everyone else is killing themselves to get it right. She’s just being a complete and utter bitch. Bitch face fucking Grey!”

Matt cleared his throat, to no avail.

“You know what her problem is?” Jesse continued. “She needs a fucking good shag, she does. That might cheer the miserable cow up. Mind you, Christ knows what man would be brave enough to go there. She’d probably bite your cock off as soon as suck it.”

As the red mist of his anger dissipated, Jesse finally clocked the reactions of the other men around his table. They weren’t at all what he’d expected. Ed and Matt looked mighty chagrined, staring at a point over his left shoulder. Private Graham Pilgrim had actually put his head down and begun to bang it on the table.

A cold trickle of dread ran down his back, and he turned, wondering which of his superiors had heard his rant.

Fuck. It was none other than the target of his diatribe.

Corporal Roxanne Grey stood, her arms crossed, one high-heeled foot tapping on the floor. Her facial expression was as far from impressed as it was possible to be.

Coolly, she said, “Bagnall. Guard room, now.”

Jesse’s heart sunk into his heavy-duty boots, and he had to resist the temptation to drop his gaze to the floor. His buddies would never let him live it down. He had to do as the woman said otherwise he’d be guilty of insubordination, but he was going to do it in the manliest way possible.

Turning back to the table, he sneaked a quick glance at each of his friends in turn, hoping his expression looked irritated, not shit scared, which was what he really was. Standing, he left his lunch tray where it was and followed Corporal Grey out of the mess, across the yard and into the scruffy-looking building that was the guard room. God, the government really needed to put some money into this place—it certainly didn’t give off the air of tough professionalism that the personnel were expected to show.

Opening the door, Corporal Grey stood aside and ushered him in, before following him and shutting the door behind them and twisting the lock. The room was empty. She moved to sit in a chair, and motioned him to take another one.

“I suppose you know why you’re here?”

“Yes, ma’am. My unforgiveable words and actions back in the mess.” Now it was just the two of them, he could grovel as much as he felt necessary without worrying about losing face.

“Hmm. Yes. But actually, it’s more the reasoning behind the words that I’m interested in.”

“W—what do you mean?”

“You mentioned that you feel like I pick on you, more than I do anyone else during drill instruction. As though you’re sitting on your arse, I do believe were your words.”

Jesse fought the colour coming to his face, and failed miserably. “Y—yes, ma’am.”

“Do I really make you feel that way? Or were you just having a whinge to your mates? Tell me honestly, please.”

The anger had gone from her tone, and her expression was open, expectant. She really and truly wanted him to be honest. He opened and closed his mouth—not unlike a fish—a couple of times, before clearing his throat and attempting to form an answer. It didn’t help that, now she’d stopped screaming at him and was actually being quite pleasant, he’d come to the conclusion that she was hot. Even in her army uniform, she looked feminine, as though she was hiding a delicious body underneath all that olive green.

“O—okay then. Yes, you do. Ever since you turned up to drill us in preparation for the parade, you’ve made me feel like a useless sack of shit. I know it’s important, God do I know, and I want to get it right, but I really am trying my best. I’m giving this my all, and it seems as though it’s just not good enough for you. Some of the other guys are worse than me, and you don’t come down on them like a ton of bricks. Maybe just half a ton.” He smiled weakly, hoping she’d realise he was joking.

A tiny smile played at the corners of the corporal’s lips. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you why I’m doing it? Shouting at you more than the others, I mean.”

“Um, I guess it depends on what you’re going to say. I’m really not as shit as some of the other guys.”

“I know. But…” She got to her feet and moved to stand in front of Jesse. Leaning down and placing her hands on the arms of his chair, she continued. “Let’s just say I’m trying not to let my true feelings show. If people found out how much I want you, I don’t think it would go down too well.”

“W—want me? You want me?” His heart pounded, and his brain raced to keep up with what she was saying. Did she really mean what he thought she meant? Was there a way he could have misunderstood her words? He didn’t think so. “You mean, like, want me in the sex way?” He knew his phrasing was ridiculous, but he couldn’t think of anything better right at that moment. His brain was too fried.

Corporal Grey laughed, her blue eyes sparkling as crinkles appeared in their corners. It was adorable and sexy all at once, and Jesse’s cock surprised him by hardening.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean in the sex way. But I guess you know now why I’ve been behaving the way I have? Can you forgive me? I didn’t mean to make you feel like a useless sack of shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I can forgive you. But only if you make it up to me.” It seemed his cock had taken over control of his mouth now, because as the words floated into the air, he realised he had no idea what he actually meant.

“Oh yeah?” Moving her hands to her hips, Corporal Grey adopted a saucy stance. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

Jesse cast his gaze about the room rapidly, hoping for inspiration. Thankfully, he spotted something that would serve his purpose perfectly. Standing, he gently pushed past her and retrieved the pace stick that was propped up in the corner. Designed for marking time in parades and similar, when it was open it formed a ‘V’ shape; closed it was just a wooden stick. One he could use to get his own back on Corporal Grey. And he really had to stop thinking of her as Corporal Grey, especially considering what he was about to do. She was Roxanne.

Turning back to her, he stifled a grin when he saw the look on her face. She obviously hadn’t been expecting that. Pointing to a nearby table, he commanded, “Pull your skirt up to your waist and bend over.”

“O—okay.”

She sounded nervous, and he didn’t blame her. Frankly, he was surprised she’d agreed. He was wielding quite an interesting weapon, and she was going to allow him to use it on her. Perhaps she was into a bit of pain. He’d soon find out.

Following her to the table, he waited while she summoned her courage, then lifted her skirt. His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his close-cropped hairline when he saw the skimpy black thong that had been hidden beneath her drab skirt. It bisected lovely pale, round bum cheeks, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pull the material aside and bury his cock in her warm depths.

First, though, Roxanne had some making up to do. “Ready?”

Pressing her hands to the surface of the table, she nodded quickly.

Jesse moved into the position he thought best and waved the pace stick around a little, to get used to the way it moved and balanced. He’d never spanked a woman before, never mind with one of these things. God knows why he’d even suggested it. She probably thought he was some kind of kinky bastard, now. Never mind, it was just a bit of fun.

 

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bioLucy 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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