Sexual Sorcery by C M Fontana @mystic_erotica #erotic #mystery

Sexual Sorcery: An Erotic Tale of Sex, Mystery and the Occult, in Victorian England by C M Fontana

sexual-sorcery-cover-600wideblurbAn unwitting academic stumbles into the erotically-charged occult underworld of Victorian London. With a cast of characters including an investigator with a talent for seduction, a mesmerist collecting a harem of beautiful ladies, and a woman who believes she has had sex with Satan, Sexual Sorcery is a sizzling story of decadence, conspiracy and carnality.

When a collection of books go missing from the University’s collection, Fredrick Clifford travels to London in search of the likely culprit, an apparently respectable gentleman named Victor Braystone. But he soon finds that he is not the only one with an interest in Mr Braystone, and the manipulative Catherine Wolseley soon draws him into her own schemes.

As he, Miss Wolseley and their seductive accomplice begin to unravel Mr Braystone’s plots, Fredrick Clifford finds himself both confused and entrapped in a shocking world of of sex and duplicity. And as the trail leads him from the seductions of a London club to a Satanic altar in the wilds of the Welsh borders, he struggles to make sense of both the dark uncertainties of the occult, and of an unfamiliar realm of debauchery and sex.

Buy Links:

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1VaaXZC

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OunW9F

bioC M Fontana is a British erotic author, fusing plots of mystery, intrigue, and the supernatural with racy erotica. The first full-length novels, Sexual Sorcery, was published for Kindle in September 2015, with two novellas continuing the series released soon after.

Author Website: http://mysticerotica.com/

Author Twitter: @mystic_erotica

excerptBy Saturday morning, Fredrick had still not had time to visit the agency to advertise for a new domestic servant, and he was becoming heartily sick of bread and marmalade for breakfast – or, indeed, for any other meal that he could not reasonably eat out. It was also an irritation that he had to answer his own front door, and now he found himself greeted at his front step by a small grubby boy, in bare feet and ragged trousers, presenting him with a sealed envelope.

He took the letter, tipped the boy a coin, and closed the door.

The paper was expensive, that handwriting feminine. Inside, a note simply read:

Two o’clock. My carriage will collect you. We cannot have gaps in your education as a gentleman. Please be an attentive student. Such classes are not inexpensive.

And that was all. He assumed that it was from Miss Wolseley, and resigned himself to having to follow her cryptic instructions. In the meantime, he thought, he would finish his newspaper, and then visit the agency to and see if they could alleviate his domestic difficulties.

And so, soon after lunchtime, after a satisfactory visit to the agency he found on returning to his house a familiar carriage parked outside.

“My good man, am I late?”

“Not at all Sir,” the gruff coachman tipped his hat. “I’m early. Take your time, Sir. We aren’t due til ‘alf past.”

Fredrick re-emerged promptly at two o’clock, and climbed into the carriage, and sat back while it bounced and swerved through the city’s congested streets. Out of the window he saw gentrified houses, and, as the traffic moved slowly on the main roads, although the journey was barely two miles, it took over twenty minutes. He was relieved to find that they stopped in a fashionable West End street.

He stepped down from the carriage, and the coachman indicated the door across the road.

He crossed the street and rapped with the brass door knocker.

Promptly, the door was opened, and a short, grey haired maid opened the door.

“Fredrick Clifford,” he introduced himself. “I may be expected?”

“Of course,” the maid curtseyed, with a hint of an accent, perhaps Italian or French, and stepped back to let him in.

She took his coat, hat and cane, and then led him up the stairs, and into a well furnished sitting room. Tall windows let light flood into the room through lace curtains, the room was decked with a range of plushly upholstered chairs and settees, the largest of which, unusually, seemed to be the size of a single bed, but with ornate arms and a high back.

The maid motioned him to take a seat in a plush chair by the window. She assured him, “I will say that you have arrived,” and then withdrew.

As he waited, he looked around. The décor was, the more he considered the details, eccentric.

Not only were the chairs unusually deeply upholstered, and the main sofa far wider than was needed, but there were numerous sturdy hooks, which looked like they might have hung chandeliers before gas lighting was installed, both in the ceiling and also, inexplicably in the skirting board at the foot of the wall. There was also a faint but spicy scent in the air, which he suspected might be incense – an unusual scent to encounter outside of a High or Catholic church.

The door opened, and he turned to see a tall, graceful woman step into the room. She wore a red silk robe like a dressing gown, and around her neck an ornate necklace of black beads. Her brown hair hung loosely in flowing curls, cascading over her shoulders, and Fredrick’s eyes were drawn further down, to the sides of her firm breasts, indecently visible where the two sides of the robe met.

“I’m so sorry!” he instinctively stood up and turned his back on her, to stare fixedly out of the window.

“And why, Mr Clifford, are you sorry?” The voice was soft, the accent unmistakably continental.

“I am… that is to say…” He could barely hear her approach, her bare feet on the carpet. “Perhaps I should return when you are properly dressed.”

Her voice, now just over his shoulder, chided, “Mr Clifford, I was told that you were a gentleman.”

“Well, yes!” he replied, indignantly.

“And is it polite, when a lady enters a room, turn your back on her, and then proceed to criticise her choice of clothing.”

“Well, I… there is a question of what is appropriate!”

“Your lessons today,” she corrected him, “are to deal instead with the question of what is courteous – gentlemanly. You may be quite right about what is appropriate. But this afternoon, that is not our subject.”

To Frederick, what was gentlemanly and what was appropriate seemed intimately connected. But Miss Wolseley had, presumably, some purpose in sending him here.

“I apologise,” he conceded, turning to face her. It would be a shame to argue with such an attractive hostess.

She smiled and inclined her head. “Then shall we start again?”

Fredrick nodded.

The woman turned and walked softly back to the door. He watched her robe sway against her legs, and was impressed by her grace. She left the room, and shut the door after herself. Fredrick sat down again, and waited.

After a minute, the door opened again, and the woman returned.

Fredrick stood up, and stepped forwards to greet her. “Fredrick Clifford, Madam. At your service.”

She held out her hand, palm down, and he took it gently, and bowed slightly as he motioned to kiss it. He could not help, bending forward, but appreciate the gentle curve of her breasts, barely draped in thin red silk.

“Signorina Maria Cenci,” she replied with a hint of a curtsey. “Charmed to meet you, Sir.”

She motioned him across to the wide sofa, strewn with cushions, and when he sat she took a seat next to him. Her robe fell open at the knee, revealing her slender, pale calf, and Fredrick made an effort not to look too intently.

The door opened again, and the elderly maid entered, carrying a tray, which she set down on the table by the settee.

“Milk and sugar, Mr Clifford?” Signorina Cenci asked.

“Please, yes.”

“Tell me Mr Clifford, she asked, as she poured the tea and the maid withdrew, “how should a gentleman behave towards a lady?”

Fredrick considered for a moment, and then, taking the cup and saucer offered to him, replied: “A gentleman should always be respectful.”

“And why is that important?” she asked. And when Fredrick had no ready answer, she clarified, “Why should a gentleman be respectful to a lady, and not, perhaps, to a tree or stone?”

“Obviously, trees and stones don’t have feelings!”

“So when you say respectful, you mean that you should be aware of the lady’s feelings?”

“Quite so,” Fredrick said, taking another sip of tea and then setting the cup aside. “The male is the stronger sex. It is our duty to protect, both physically and mentally, the frailer gender. It shows us to be civilized human beings, and not savages.”

“And so,” Signorina Cenci asked, “you see that, if a man turns his back on a woman as she enters the room, she might be upset. In which case, the gentlemanly response is to greet her courteously, perhaps?”

“I see your point, Madam,” Fredrick acknowledged, not wanting to argue.

“But is it also gentlemanly,” she teased, “as you bend down to kiss her hand, to stare so intently at her breasts?”

Fredrick blushed, “I am so sorry, Madam, I didn’t intend to.”

She laughed, and stood. “Then shall we try again?”

“Of course, if you wish.”

She left her tea cup on the table, walked to the door, turned, paused, and then returned towards the sofa.

Fredrick stood, stepped forward, and took her hand when she offered it. This time, as he bent and motioned to kiss her hand, he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Again Signorina Cenci laughed.

“Mr Clifford,” she smiled, placing her hand on his arm. “Do you really think that if a lady deliberately appears dressed like this – ” she raised her other hand to her neck and let her index finger slowly trace a line along the hem of the robe, down her chest, over the mound of her breast ” – that she does not want to be admired?”

“Really, Madam, I protest,” Fredrick sighed, “You say that I should not stare, and now you say that I should stare. What am I to do?”

“Mr Clifford, you are to be a gentleman. You are to behave with consideration for the lady’s feelings.” Seeing that he was still confused, she continued. “If you stare dumbly at my chest – ” she turned slightly, so that he could fully appreciate the silhouette of her breasts – “I might consider the stare to be aggressive, or I might worry that you are no longer capable of rational thought. You are still capable of thought, Sir?”

He raised his eyes from the curve of her robe, to look her in the eye again. “Yes, of course.”

“But if you ignore me entirely, I might think that I have failed to impress you, or that you consider me ugly. You do not consider me ugly, do you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Then, Mr Clifford, please, stop trying to guess what the rules are. There is but one rule to being a gentleman. Consideration for the feelings of the other person. And so, consider my feelings, and act accordingly.”

“Very well,” Fredrick acquiesced.

“Then shall we try once more?”

She walked back to the door, and again turned to face him. She paused for a moment. “Are you ready, Sir?”

Fredrick nodded.

She ran her finger down the front of her robe, and deliberately opened the gap at her chest a little further, so that the sides of both breasts were quite bare. “Are you certain?”

Fredrick paused for just a second and then answered confidently: “Yes, Madam.”

Signora Cenci walked across the room, her hips swaying, and held out her hand, palm down.

Fredrick took her hand. As he bowed and raised it towards his mouth, he let his eyes glance over her soft flesh, and at the lowest point of his bow he glanced up to look her in the eye. Then he looked back towards her hand as he stood, and looked her in the eye again, keeping a lingering hold of her hand before releasing her.

“Mr Clifford!” she smiled, “Have you not been taught that it is too forward, even impertinent, to look a lady in the eye as you kiss her hand?”

“Signora Cenci,” he countered, “From the way that you adjusted your gown, I understood that you wanted me to be forward, even impertinent.”

“Bravo!” she clapped her hands three times and smiled. “Please sit, and explain to me your strategy.”

As they both sat down, he on her right, she on his left, he explained. “I trust that you wanted,” he glanced again at the curve of her breast, “to be appreciated, but with discretion. And I gathered that you would not mind a little impertinence. When I first looked up at your eyes, you could have looked away, but you did not. And so I inferred that a little more impertinence might be in order before I released your hand.”

“Perfect, Mr Clifford! You considered my feelings, and acted accordingly. One might almost say, appropriately?”

Fredrick smiled, “Yes, I think that you have proved that point.”

“Which is exactly why you are here,” she explained. She put her right hand behind her on the settee and turned her body towards him. “I am told that you are an intelligent, educated gentleman. But you have been taught to be a gentleman by following a set of rules. And now you find yourself in situations where the rules do not seem to work. Situations for which no rules have been written. Is this so?”

Fredrick nodded, “Increasing so, it seems.”

“And you are particularly unsure how to deal, in certain, unusual situations, with ladies?”

“I understand how to make polite conversation,” he admitted, “but there there are things, I find, that I do not really understand.”

“And that is why you have been sent to me,” Signora Cenci smiled. “Because if you are to be a gentleman in these situations, you will be more confident, yes?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“And to be a gentleman you need only two things. You need to act with consideration or the other person. And you need to understand what the other person wants. You see?”

“Theoretically, I suppose.”

“At this moment, yes, quite theoretically. Because you do not know enough about what a woman wants, and so you cannot treat her…. appropriately. So we shall give you a basic understanding.”

She looked at him, saying nothing more.

He felt that he was expected to react in some way, but had no idea how.

“Mr Clifford,” she flicked her long hair over her shoulder, and then lowered her hand to her knee, where she parted her robe a little. “You are alone with a woman who has chosen to greet you in a quite indecorous outfit – so indecorous, that she has not even troubled to put on underwear, but instead has nothing between you and her but a single layer of very soft, very thin silk. And now she has sat mere inches from you, turned her body towards you, and is now waiting for you. Can you not imagine a gentlemanly reaction?”

He sat, confused, uncertain.

“To make this simple,” Signora Cenci coaxed, “you have two options. If you are not sure what I want, then you can construct some witty, sensitive line of conversation to draw me into disclosing my desires. Or you can take action, in such a way that my response will tell you more of what I want…. Do you feel able to engage in witty conversations at this moment?”

He shook his head, mutely.

“Then Mr Clifford, take action!”

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When Will I Be Loved by Julie Lynn Hayes #Interview #Giveaway @ShelleyRunyon @PridePromo

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WhenWillIBeLovedAuthor Name: Julie Lynn Hayes

Book Name: When Will I Be Loved

Release Date: June 7, 2015

Pages or Words: Approximately 115,000 words

Categories: M/M Romance, Mystery, Paranormal

Publisher: Amber Quill

Cover Artist: Trace Zaber

blurbMiller Fenwick wants the kind of happy ending his best friend got, with the hunky werewolf of his dreams. Trouble is, there doesn’t seem to be a Prince Charming on the horizon, and casual encounters don’t cut it anymore. Now that Alexx and Raoul are engaged, Miller is becoming resigned to being the bridesmaid, never the bride. But a chance encounter with a sexy stranger at Charisma has his hopes soaring, and his heart is wide open to possibilities.

Holt Wynne is the head of Helios, the largest vampire organization in the country. He’s a very influential and wealthy man, with a deep-seated hatred of werewolves. His running into Miller at Charisma isn’t entirely accidental. He’d meant to wait, but his emotions got the better of him, and he couldn’t stay away. And now see what he’s done…

Wait until Miller finds out he’s sortof just gotten married to the sexy vampire who hates the people who are Miller’s best friends. Sparks are gonna fly—and not just in the bedroom. One thing for sure—life in Crescent Bay is never dull!

Interview

Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing Julie Lynn Hayes, author of When Will I Be Loved.

Hi Julie, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Good morning and thanks for having me here today!

I come from the Midwest, and have pretty much lived in St. Louis, Missouri, all my life. I live there now with my daughter, Sarah, and our cat, The Mighty Ramesses. I have a job I enjoy with an elevator inspection company, although I’ve had lots of other jobs before this one.

I’ve been married twice, and have five children and three grandchildren. I began writing when I was about nine. During the 90’s, I began publishing in small magazines, none of which exist anymore. Short stories and poetry. It wasn’t until 2010 that my first book, To the Max, was published by Dreamspinner Press. Since that time, I’ve had a number of other books published.

My current book is When Will I Be Loved, with Amber Quill Press. It’s the sequel to When Can I See You Again. The first book was about Raoul Marchand and Alexx Jameson, while this one features Miller Fenwick and Holt Wynne.

List five of your favorite TV shows (past or present) and tell us what you loved about them.

That’s a difficult question. So many shows, so little time. I’ll try to list some of the first ones that come to mind, in no particular order.

  1. Forever – This was on ABC, and only just recently canceled, which broke my heart. Ioan Gruffudd plays Dr. Henry Morgan. He’s two hundred years old, an immortal medical examiner for the state of New York. He doesn’t know why he can’t die, but I suspect it has to do with voodoo placed by him on a slave. He was on a slave ship, and he died defending the slaves from being thrown overboard, except he didn’t die. Judd Hirsch plays Abraham, his adopted son, who was found abandoned in a concentration camp at the end of World War II. While I enjoy the backstory, and the cases Henry works on, his relationship with his quirky assistant, Lucas, and his partner Detective Jo Martinez, what I love the most is the relationship between Henry and Abe, so very loving and tender. I’ll miss it greatly.
  2. Queer as Folk (US) – I didn’t even watch this until after it stopped airing, but I fell in love with these characters from the beginning. A group of gay friends and their families in Pittsburgh. It was realistic and didn’t try to whitewash some of the seamier aspects of male/male relationships. I think the point was these things happen to people of all sexualities. I loved the friendship between Brian and Michael the most, I think. And although I didn’t care for Justin at the beginning, he grew on me, and I was rooting for him and Brian to make it, although Brian swore he didn’t do relationships. However, the ending of the series sucked.
  3. Constantine – This show has only had one season, and it may be canceled, but I fell in love with it, and with the hero, John Constantine, played by Matt Ryan. He is the best thing about the show. I’ve read the graphic novels, and he is spot on in his portrayal of John. The writers did a good job of translating the books into a TV show. It was well done. I even liked Zed, and I certainly liked Chaz. Much better than the movie with Keanu Reeves, although I didn’t realize how much better until I read the books.
  4. Sherlock – I didn’t think I wanted to watch this, but my daughter said I’d like it, and she was right about Jekyll, so I took a chance and fell in love with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. The writers have done a great job with these. They’re clever and fascinating to watch. I could watch them over and over. The best part, though, is definitely the relationship between Holmes and Watson. After that, Moriarity is pretty fun to watch himself.
  5. Deadwood – Another series I didn’t watch until it was done, I gave this a try because Timothy Olyphant was in it. This is an amazing series, which takes place in 1876 Deadwood, South Dakota. The cast is phenomenal, including Olyphant, Brad Dourif, Keith Carradine, and a ton more. But what makes it for me is Ian McShane as Al Swearingen, owner of the Gem Saloon/brothel. My daughter bought me the complete series on DVD, and I’m rewatching it.

There are so many more, of course, including Jekyll, M*A*S*H, I Love Lucy, Perry Mason, and so on.  Just not enough time, right?

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excerptMiller forced himself to take a breath, unaware until he did that he’d stopped breathing.

Quit being ridiculous. Wine going to your head already?

But he’d only had the one glass. And he hadn’t even finished that. He wasn’t such a lightweight, when it came to holding his alcohol, and he knew it.

He told himself it was just his imagination. But just to be safe, he began a slow cautious turn, looking around him, without appearing to be searching for anything—or anyone.

And there he was.

Standing a heartbeat away from Miller was one of the sexiest men he’d ever seen in his life. A man every bit as sexy as Raoul Marchand, although not in the same feral way as the werewolf.

This man was light where Raoul was dark. His hair was a honey blonde which stood out by virtue of being obviously natural, in a place where most blondes were either created by the sun or came from a bottle. He stood a little taller than Miller, exuding a presence that went beyond the merely physical, possessed of the bearing and mien of a veritable god.

But it was his eyes that drew Miller in and held him spellbound. Blue and green, like staring into tropical waves, flecked with bits of pure molten gold. And the way he was staring at Miller was sending the most delicious shivers traveling up and down his spine.

The man took a step toward Miller, his hand outstretched. Before Miller quite realized what had happened, he’d placed his own hand inside of the other man’s, and he found himself being drawn onto the dance floor.

Sales Links:

http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2200-When-Will-I-Be-Loved.aspx

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bioJulie Lynn Hayes first began publishing short stories and poetry in the 1990’s, when it was a different ballgame altogether, and Ebooks hadn’t been dreamed of yet. That changed in 2010 with the acceptance of her first romance novel. She’s come a long way since that first book appeared, and is finding the journey a very educational one.

She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and her cat Ramesses. She often writes of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms, and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She likes to write in different genres, to stretch herself in order to see what is possible. Her great challenge is to be told something can’t be done—she feels compelled to do it.

When she isn’t writing, she enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, needlepoint and knitting, and she loves to cook, spending time watching the Food Network. Her favorite chef is Geoffrey Zakarian. Her family thinks she’s a bit off, but she doesn’t mind. Marching to the beat of one’s own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, eXtasy Books, Wayward Ink Press, and Amber Quill Press.

Where to find the author:

Facebook:   Facebook

Twitter:  https://www.twitter.com/ShelleyRunyon

Goodreads Link: My Goodreads

giveaway4
1 copy of When Will I Be Loved and 1 copy of When Will I See You Again or if winner has that, another book from my backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Stops left on the tour

26-Jun

Decadent Delights

All I Want and More Books

29-Jun

Love Bytes

30-Jun

Bayou Book Junkie

1-Jul

Up All Night, Read All Day

Mikky’s World of Books

2-Jul

Parker Williams

Kimi-Chan

 

WillPride

 

 

 

New Release: Exposed Ecstasy (Psychic Menage #3) by @HoustonHavens

AvailableNowNew

Exposed Ecstasy (Psychic Menage #3) by Houston HavensHouston Havens

Exposed Ecstasy (Psychic Menage #3)

Series Genre: Erotic Romance, Ménage (MFMM/MFM), Paranormal, Fantasy, Futuristic, Suspense, Dystopian, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Mystery.

Themes with a light touch: Voyeurism, Spanking, BDSM, Anal, Psychic, Fae

Release Date: Dec 15, 2014

Published with: Syn Publishing

Heat level: Romantrix #4

Tagline: Words can never express the emotions needed to be heard by the heart.

Keywords: Ménage, Erotic-Romance, Futuristic-Paranormal, Dystopian-Sci-Fi, Psychic-Fantasy, Fae, Post-Apocalyptic, Psychic Ménage Series.

Buy Links:

Amazon – http://bit.ly/ExposedEcstasyAmazon

ARe – http://bit.ly/ExposedEcstasyARe

Kobo – http://bit.ly/ExposedEcstasyKobo

B&N – http://bit.ly/ExposedEcstasyBN

Google Playhttp://bit.ly/ExposedEcstasyGooglePlay

Christmas.lights

blurbDaughter of the Dirt Dweller’s ruler; Tessla Reto attempts to escape the Underworld after the mysterious disappearance of her best friend. She knows her untimely death is also near if her father, Landen Reto discovers her part in forming the rebels to fight against him. The two men sent to help her get away are killed and she’s rescued by a handsome stranger…or is she?

Faerydae returns to Earth in search of an inner peace his soul can’t find after the death of his friend Chandra Lamar. Instead, he finds himself in an unplanned rescue of a woman that stirs everything he’s fought a lifetime to deny. Can Faerydae stay focused on his goal to expose his past and true Fae bloodline, or will destiny play her hand?

Shomar’s uncomplicated world is tossed asunder when his best friend, Faerydae, shows up with a stray puppy and a woman who steals the heart of his soul the moment he looks at her. Only to discover Faerydae and the woman claim they can’t stand each other, yet his intuition tells him otherwise. Will Shomar be able to win the woman of his dreams or will Faerydae always have her heart?

Will Tessla find her freedom? Will Faerydae keep his, or will Shomar succeed in his plan to expose them to their hidden ecstasy?

Christmas.lights

excerptFaerydae proceeded to tether her hands to the post of the captain’s chair with one of the silky ropes. An inflaming need consumed her the second she felt the material touch her flesh. Those were no normal ropes. They infused her body with a demanding desire for the ultimate pleasure.

“Spread her legs apart.” Faerydae commanded Shomar.

He did as ordered and grabbed her ankles, parting them wide to expose her throbbing pussy, making her feel vulnerable. The tawdry revealing of her wet and swollen genitalia uncovered a secret pleasure of hers; exhibitionism. She’d spent a life time covering up her need and the pleasure she got from exposing herself. Until now, her only outlet had been released through fantasies.

Faerydae smirked as if he knew her hidden pleasure. As he tied another one of his transcending ropes around one of her ankles, her needs heightened for more decadent behavior. She clamped her teeth down over her bottom lip, fighting the urge to demand he bind her pussy lips with one of his magic ropes. She wanted to feel the silkiness of the braid slid through her wet slit and rake over her needy asshole. She lowered her head to her chest and moaned as she warred with her need to expose her dirty desires.

“I want to see…” He used the word as if he knew about her need. “…how wet her beautiful pussy is and if she’s ready for us.” Faerydae stood there ogling her, and she felt her clitoris tug at her in arousal. Her nipple hardened as she watched him and Shomar gawk at her wet slit. Faerydae’s mesmerized stare focused on her pussy was making her heart pound with exhilaration. He was studying her feminine part; how her outer swollen lips cover every fold of her inner lips. His gaze seemed to absorb her seductive, innocent pink coloring, but when she saw his tongue move over his bottom lip with a hungry swipe, she just about came. Her legs tensed. Her pussy throbbed. Her heart filled with pleasure. She could see he desired her pussy, be it wrapped around his rock-hard cock or slipping his tongue between her fleshy slit, he wanted her.

“Oh God!” Her mind was on fire with a burning arousal, and her body was in need of their throbbing cocks.

Shomar’s gaze drifted from her pussy up her body to stop at her breasts. She jostled them for his watching pleasure. He moved up, acting as if he were checking her wrist ties, but manage a taunting brush of his arm across her hard nipples several times, as he feigned tightening the knots on her wrists. When he backed away, his let his fingers grazed over her breast then returned to tweak her nipple.

Christmas.lights

bioHouston Havens retired from a successful modeling career and an adventurous jet-set lifestyle to Houston Havensset 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.

Stop by for a visit and leave a comment at http://houstonhavens.wordpress.com

Links:

Website: http://houstonhavensauthor.wix.com/houstonhavens

Blog: http://houstonhavens.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HoustonHavens

Tsu – https://www.tsu.co/HoustonHavens

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Christmas.lights

Interview with author @kimmullican – Thicker Than Water #mystery #suspense

Kim Mullican - Thicker Than Water cover

Thicker Than Water

Kim Mullican

 

Genre: Mystery, Suspense

Date of Publication:  June 15, 2014

ISBN: 978-1500218799

ASIN: B00L1DYI58

Number of pages: 214

Word Count: 59,332

Buy Links: Kindle   Paperback

blurbBlood may be thicker than water, but family isn’t necessarily who you’re related to. In this suspenseful mystery with a romantic twist, we follow Private Investigator Michelle Mott on her most exciting case to date.

Wisecracking Mott has been a loner since her parents died. When Daniel Cardinale walks into her office with her most interesting case yet, his world threatens to turn hers upside down. He needs her to find out who is sending him anonymous money and what the truth is behind his dead fiancé’s demise. If his case weren’t complicating her life enough, local crime lord Gino Salito has taken an interest in Mott.

Mott’s empty life begins to fill up with an unexpected and rag-tag group of people, and she’s afraid her dangerous life will take them away, leaving her alone once again.

In truth, it’s Mott’s life that may be the one at risk. She’ll have to hope that blood isn’t always thicker than water.

interview2

Thank you so much for hosting me!

Tell us a little bit about yourself?

Each morning I run a central line from the coffee pot into my main artery. Once secured with tape, I get the husband off to work, the kids off to school, the dogs fed and watered. If I’m extremely lucky, I remember to brush my teeth before 8 a.m. Then the house is finally quiet and I am usually glued to my laptop until someone pulls me away kicking and screaming.

Also, I researched having a clone and now I’m on the NSA watch list.

 

What 3 words would you use to describe your main character(s)?

1)Stubborn 2)Curious 3)Funny

 

Can you tell us a little bit about Thicker Than Water? Maybe a little snippet?

My MC is Private Investigator Michelle Mott. She’s a loner, which works well with her profession. She tends to land herself in hot water. This time, local crime lord, Gino Salito has his eyes firmly on her.

Sample: I am about to die. I don’t mean in the Sylvia Plath-we’re-all going-to-die-sometime sort of way. In mere moments, the meathead behind the barrel of the handgun held to my temple will pull the trigger. The hammer will come down, igniting a tiny explosion that will send a lead ball tearing through my cranium. My brains, bones and blood will spray on the area beside me. I won’t even hear a click. I won’t feel a thing. Idiots. This is the least creative way to murder someone.

And the suicide note they had me write sounds nothing like me. No one is going to believe I committed suicide. If they watched one episode of one crime show they’d know I needed gun powder residue on my hands, not duct tape residue on my wrists. This has to be the worst faked suicide in history. That’s what you get when you hire steroid induced freaks with the IQ of a cannoli.

 

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

That you define your family. Your family does not define you.

 

What’s the last line you wrote from your current WIP?

It remained a mystery to most, but for Mark, it was his biggest achievement—even if he did run out of time.

 

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

I’m an avid fisher(wo)man. I’d grab the spousal unit, a boat and head to the closest fishing spot.

 

Quickies

What’s your guilty pleasure? Tirimisu

Celebrity crush? Robert Downey, Jr.

Night owl or early bird? Both

Twitter or Facebook? Facebook

Pinterest or Instagram? Pinterest

ebooks or paperbacks? Paperback

Favorite Book? The Winner by David Baldacci (the spine is falling apart now.)

Favorite TV Show? The Blacklist

Favorite color? Black

What are you listening to you right now? The fan. I know, that’s not very exciting, but…everyone is in bed!

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bioImage1Kim Mullican was born in Northwest Indiana, where she was raised on the family farm.  She attended International Business College in Fort Wayne before continuing on at Indiana Wesleyan University.

When she’s not writing, she’s probably cooking a meal for her rather large family.  An assortment of children and pets keep her on her toes.

On the rare chance she and Mr. Mullican can pull away, you can find them on a quiet body of water, fishing poles in hand.

She’s a cross-genre writer offering, paranormal, mystery, suspense, thriller and more.

https://www.goodreads.com/kimmullican

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Kim-Mullican/200009130049700?ref=hl

http://kimmullican.wordpress.com

http://kimmullican.com

 

Thank you Kim for stopping by today and answering our questions.

 

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