#99cent Sale Blitz THE TUTOR by K D Grace @kd_grace

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I’m very excited to announce that for the first time ever, The Tutor is on sale for 99c in all ebook formats. Go ahead, have a sizzling Spring fling! Find out why when touch is impossible, intimacy can become a powerful work of art.

For an entire month, beginning April 4th, Lex and Kelly’s story is on sale for your reading pleasure. So go ahead and enjoy a journey to an intimacy that will totally surprise you.

The Tutor Blurb:

thetutor_800Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.

The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.

Buy Links:

Totally Bound Publishing

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon Canada

Barnes and Noble

iBooks

Google Books

Kobo

Excerpt:

Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.

It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”

The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”

He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”

With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”

Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”

Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.

The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”

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Reviews:

I was amazed at how well the author fanned the flames without the characters even touching. From well-detailed interactions to the steamy interludes, this is a story that is blazing hot.” 5 out of 5, The Romance Reviews

Between helping each other, find themselves, exposing secrets and of course, some seriously steamy steamy situations, I fell hard for these characters. It’s really hard not to. Each one has their own secrets and darkness, but they learn from each other and feed off that. As much as this book is steamy and sexual, it’s just as emotionally driven. Yes, I shed a few tears, but they were happy ones.” 4 out of 5, The Jeep Diva

This was a very different take on an erotic romance. I really enjoyed this story. The banter between Kelly and Lex was fun and interesting. Even without touching this book sizzles. The pacing was pretty fast. I don’t think I put the book down until I finished the story. Yes I loved the HEA ending. I also enjoyed the detailed character development and how the past events were slowly revealed.” 5 out of 5, Alpha Book Club

Sale blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

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Out Now—Sexy Just Got Kinky: Kinks to Make you Think by The Brit Babes @8britbabes

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Blurb:

Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage, there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your fancies and heat up cold nights.

Featuring stories by Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse, Marissa Farrar, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee and Tabitha Rayne.

Available from:

Amazon

All Romance eBooks

Barnes & Noble

iBooks

More buy links (including print)

sexyjustgotkinky

Excerpt from The Anonymous Life by Marissa Farrar

It started with a photograph.

A single, crazy, adrenaline-filled moment of madness.

I’d had enough of being ignored, of being the maid, the chef, the chauffeur to my unappreciative family. I dreamed of the days when men used to drop to their knees before me in the streets. They’d beg to buy me drinks, just to get me to spend a little time in their company, and, if they were lucky, snatch a kiss and take me home to their bed. Now, I was invisible. A mother, a wife, a housekeeper. I longed to be seen as something sexual again, and so I took the photo.

I made sure not to include my face. I didn’t want to be identified. Instead, I held the camera on my phone with one hand and cupped my breasts with the other, squeezing them together so the tops lifted and rounded in globes. My nipples peeped between my fingers, crinkled and hard. The lighting wasn’t perfect, and I had no idea what filters to use, but that didn’t matter.

I posted it online.

It was on one of the popular social media sites, known more for its raunchy posts than some of the others. I’d used the site to watch porno GIFs often enough, but I’d never had the guts to comment or post something of my own.

Until now.

I gave myself an online name—theanonymouslife. All one word.

It was only a single picture, but already my emotions surged up inside me, making me feel alive—a mixture of excitement and guilt, and horniness.

Already, I was addicted.

I stayed on the computer, checking for comments and reblogs. People liked my tits, it seemed. More than my husband, who hadn’t laid a finger on me in forever. There were a couple of negative notes, but I brushed over them in favour of the positive ones. Damn trolls were everywhere.

I don’t know why I got such a thrill from posting my picture online, or why I’d even felt the need to do it at all. Maybe there was anger in me, a resentfulness I couldn’t shift, and posting the photo felt a little bit like revenge. Or rebellion. I resented my husband for plunging me into a life of celibacy that I’d never asked for. I’d always been a sexual person, and still was, but now sex was denied to me. My children stole my body away, though they never asked to do that, and I would never hold them responsible. I love my kids. They are the one thing that keeps me walking the straight and narrow when all I want to do is run, screaming, throwing off my clothes and frustrations as I do so. I dream of a future alone, where I can pick and choose men as I please, allow them in my life for a short while, only to continue alone once more. Sometimes now, I feel like I barely have enough time to have a thought to myself without being interrupted. I can feel the years slipping away, knowing I’ll never get them back. I’m only in my early thirties—too young to be this dried up person already—and the thought of the rest of my life as a sexless woman terrifies me. I love my husband, I do, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in me anymore. He’s always too tired from a long day at work. I don’t know if he has no interest in sex in general or if it’s just me that no longer excites him. I can’t say I blame him. After seeing the births of two babies, I’m not sure I’d excite me either. But I can’t bring myself to break up our home, can’t stand the thought of the hurt in our children’s eyes if we separated. Plus, he’s a good guy. I like his company, most of the time. We’re just missing that important element.

So, instead of dealing with the real problem at hand, I took the photograph.

It was harmless. I wasn’t hurting anyone. But quickly I discovered one picture was not enough.

About The Brit Babes:

So who are the Brit Babes? We are eight UK based authors who spend our days writing steamy tales of love and lust. Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind, we aim to please in every literary fantasy department. Our heroes are strong, determined and soul-achingly divine and our heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure are the name of the game, romance and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink.

With a whole host of awards, bestsellers and accolades between us, we just know you’ll find something to keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Visit the Brit Babes’ home on the web which acts as a library for the hundreds of books published by us and hosts special guests every Monday. You’ll find links there to our FREE anthology too. Tell your friends, spread the word, because one thing you can be sure of, is when the Brit Babes arrive, sexy has arrived!

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