Cover Reveal! Sinful Pleasures: An Anthology of Erotic Tales by Sinful Press @sinfulpress

coverrevealbutton_SP

Release date 20th August 2017.

Sinful Press welcomes you to lose yourself in Sinful Pleasures.

Join us as we weave our way from mainstream erotic romance to surreal sex-filled dreamscapes and everything in between, created by some of the best new and established voices in the erotica genre.

Janine Ashbless
Ella Scandal
Sonni de Soto
Jo Henny Wolf
Lily Harlem
Lady Divine
Gail Williams
Samantha MacLeod
Tony Fyler
Ellie Barker
Lisa McCarthy

9781910908143

Pre-order links:

Amazon

iBooks

Google Play

Add to Goodreads

Note: Sinful Pleasures will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.

Excerpt from The Pier By Night by Janine Ashbless:

“What do you want to do now?” James asked, as they came level with another set of concrete stairs leading back up to the promenade. The question was lightly posed, but it seemed to carry an unconscionable weight. Maz looked sideways at him, rearranging the tickling strands of her hair back from her face one more time. Her body knew exactly what it wanted to do. Her body seemed to belong to some other person—someone with no memory, no ties, no guilt. Somebody who had lived all her life here, in the sun, on the beach, far away from any home or husband.
How easy it would be to do something irrevocable. Something that would tear down their carefully ordered world.
“Do you think they’ve got an aquarium?” she heard herself ask. “I like them.”
“It’s a seaside town. Of course they’ve got an aquarium.”
They did.
***
Indoors, it was surprisingly quiet and empty. The sun must be keeping everyone else outside. After the blaring pop music of the pier and the excited children on the beach, the dimly-lit faux-rock tunnels, with their windows onto pellucid underwater landscapes, seemed like another planet.
Maz and James took their time. She hadn’t been kidding about how much she enjoyed displays like these. The glowing pools drew her, and the fact that James was beside her only heightened the sense of dreamlike intensity. He would touch her occasionally—a hand on the small of her back, a finger brushing her wrist, the gentlest of clasps upon her upper arm as he pointed out a delicate seahorse among the reed grass. There was a quiet intimacy to it that made her shiver and blush and lose focus.
She could feel her whole body thrumming, as if she were lambent with arousal.

coverrevealbutton_SP

Cover reveal organized by Writer Marketing Services

Guest Blog – Monique Roffey @moniqueroffey13 – Author of The Tryst #erotica #psychologicalthriller

Bill and Jane

Guest blog

By

Monique Roffey

Author, The Tryst (Dodo Ink)

£8.99

tourbutton_thetryst

Click on the button above and follow The Tryst Tour

Couples like Bill and Jane are everywhere. Heterosexual, well matched, or so it seems to the outer world. Happy and iconic in their coupledom, the kind of couple others watches, aspire to, like to have in their life. Couples like Jane and Bill are the brick and mortar of the whole system of hetero-normalcy. They keep the planet spinning, hold the status quo in place. They are the real deal, the idea of a hieros gamos, a sacred vanilla marriage: twined souls who’ve met and committed to the sacrament of hooking up for life. How happy they look! How happy they are. Let us look at them with respect and awe and let is honour them. And let us try to be them, too.

And yet, like so many couples, for Bill and Jane, something is wrong. Something they keep secret, and something which troubles them a lot.

Their bed is cold. Cold and unfucked. There is no fire between them. Yup. Common, oh so common, and yet many of these common couples cover this up. Sex carries so much shame and taboo, but there’s nothing like the shame of a celibate marriage or relationship. The ‘no sex’ marriage isn’t a kink or a fetish; it’s something else, especially for younger couples, and yet it’s so so hard to speak about, or it was for me, long ago, when I was a younger woman. What was wrong with me, I used to rail. But back then, I was so invested in patriarchy, I was too meshed in, that I didn’t know where to start or who to go to for help. I only knew PIV (penis in vagina) sex, thought, then, it was the only real sex to have. I was an Innocent, just like Jane, in my new novel, The Tryst.

Therapists say there are always four other people in the bed with the couple, two sets of parents. Creepy idea, eh? Getting it on with Mummy and Daddy watching. Euhhh. And yet there is something here, maybe there is a silent watcher, a judge, and maybe this is one of the problems in the unfucked bed: the parents who crippled us and shamed us at a very young age. For sure, this is true of Bill and Jane in The Tryst. They have sexual instincts, but they are repressed; if you read carefully, the words father and mother weave in and out of their stories. Their marriage is dead till Lilah shows up; Lilah has been living in Jane’s consciousness for some time. Eventually, it’s as if Lilah is actually part of Jane and she is made manifest from Jane’s erotic imagination.

The Tryst, blurb – By Monique Roffey

Tryst cover

London, midsummer night. Jane and Bill meet the mysterious Lilah in a bar. She entrances the couple with half-true, mixed up tales about her life. At closing time, Jane makes an impulsive decision to invite Lilah back to their home. But Jane has made a catastrophic error of judgment, for Lilah is a skilled and ruthless predator, the likes of which few encounter in a lifetime. Isolated and cursed, Jane and Bill are forced to fight for each other, and, in doing so, discover their covert desires.

Part psychological thriller, part contemporary magical realism, The Tryst revisits the tale of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, to examine the secrets of an everyday marriage.

Praise for The Tryst

“What makes The Tryst an unexploded virus isn’t just the quality and brightness of Roffey’s writing on sex, even as it uncovers inner glades between flesh and fantasy where sex resides – but the taunting clarity of why those glades stay covered. A throbbing homewrecker of a tale, too late to call Fifty Shades of Red.”

DBC Pierre, Booker Prize winner

Book Trailer:

Extract from The Tryst 

LILAH

Bored. I could see she was bored the moment I entered the bar. Withdrawn, watching but not seeing much. Bored and unfucked. I could tell that every time, could see it in every fibre: the way the flesh was dead and the eyes were unglowing and the face looked a little doomed. I could read the prig like a book. Always could. The unfucked always watch, looking out for someone else, for they know they’ve made a fundamental error. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I have chosen wrong. I used to see married human females like this all the time, who’d chosen a man who loved them, who was right in all the other ways, a man who didn’t rock the boat, which was why the relationship floated, worked.

The English never knew what to make of me, my forwardness, my daring ways. It was like taking candy from babies. It was always so easy to get laid. I took what I needed from whom I wanted. Easy. But mostly from those couples like Jane and Bill, who had nothing going on down below, no desire between them. It’s not a crime or a sin, to fuck a man till he faints, to release some dumb stupid bitch from her own constraints. They never saw me coming, couples like Jane and Bill; they never believe predators like me exist even though plenty of tales of me, and my like, can be found in the ancient books. Modern humans have forgotten them, the impure woman, the insubordinate. I’m the one who ran away. I am there, in their history, those books the moderns no longer read. I often went to bars alone, hunted alone. The English are such hypocrites. Fuck them and fuck their tight-ass Queen. I saw Bill and Bill saw me. Immediately. He already had the memory of me, all men do. But she didn’t notice him noticing me. Didn’t see him glance at me several times over by the bar, didn’t hear him cough, blush, try to cover himself. Amazing how much a so-called second wife can miss. When the wife-pussy isn’t happy, there’s nothing to safeguard, nothing to lose. I could never infiltrate a fuck- happy couple. But so few of these exist.

She thought it was all her idea! That she set up the entire thing, that it was all her doing. Silly little prig. She had been a looker once and some of that was still there. I could see she once turned heads. Great tits. Nice ass. Good legs. She had a kind of grace she did, Miss Repressed, a kind of – ha ha, impenetrable-ness, little Miss Unfucked, an unused sexiness in her polo neck, her hair tied back. But she was beginning to lose what she’d had and never used, beginning to regret this, I could tell, beginning to fantasise she could have it all back, do it all again. I had it over older women: my pearly taut skin, my edible flesh, my curves and humpable bumps. I had all this forever and ever amen. God I turned myself on looking in the mirror!

I liked the look of Bill, a big-boned voluptuous tree of a man, a mature and bearded oak. All generous with himself, I could tell by his loose and supple boughs, the curve of his stomach, the girth of his thighs, his broad arms. His skin was sun-browned, the colour of heartwood. Our eyes clashed in that bar and he was ashamed and then he was uncertain and tried to look away. But I was taken and determined and knew I’d snare him with all my tricks. Another man sat with them, a different type who saw me too, a fellow predator who appraised me quickly and knowingly. He leered. I smirked with disdain.

I watched and waited.

Yes, Bill. We’ve met. I’m the First. I exist in the loins of all men, including yours.

When Little Miss Polo Neck got up to go to the bar I didn’t have to make a move. Both men looked over and smiled at me. Different smiles. Bill’s was tentative, a despite-himself smile, curious, intense, unsure of himself. The other man gave me a well-known-to-me, broad and welcoming grin. ‘Hello, there, Miss Lady Pussy.’

This with an open-armed gesture.

I slid off my barstool and appeared before them, all radiant four foot ten inches of me. Both men were shocked, impressed. My shortness never fails to make men want to fuck me. My girl-womanliness is a fateful mixture. A fantasy. A child with a whore’s smile. The girl-next-door with a cleavage of rare and captivating beauty. Both men gazed at me. I smiled and sat down on the stool the dark-haired man drew up for me. I wriggled, thrusting my tits upward, twiddling my hair. Bill was uncomfortable, I could tell. He squirmed. I loved it all, loved the attention, wanted to take them both to bed, take off my clothes there and then. I opened my legs, just a crack, spreading my scent.

“Greetings, my friends. This is a kind invitation.”

“I’m Sebastian.” The dark-haired man glowed. “This is Bill.”

“Am I at Elysian Fields?”

“What?”

Blanche DuBois, of course, a tragic Southern belle of American literature, so pathetic, always made me laugh. I would make these men nervous.

“Oh nothing, just a little joke with myself.” I batted my eyelids. The man called Sebastian openly ogled my chest; the alpha human males are so easy to capture.

“I mean I feel fortunate,” I gushed. “To make your acquaintance, I’m always so happy to receive the kindness of strangers.”

The men stared. My cunt scent had already intoxicated them.

BIO

Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian-born writer. Her novels have been translated into five languages and short-listed for major awards including the Orange Prize, Costa Fiction Award, Encore Award, Orion Award and the OCM Bocas Award for Caribbean Literature. In 2013, Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature. Her memoir, With the Kisses of his Mouth, was published in 2011. She is a Lecturer on the MFA in the Novel at Manchester Metropolitan University. She divides her time between the East end of London and Port of Spain, Trinidad.

Buy at Amazon:

UK: http://amzn.to/2snABX2

US: https://www.amazon.com/Tryst-Monique-Roffey-ebook/dp/B072BX51PV/

Twitter: @MoniqueRoffey13

Facebook: @MoniqueRoffeyAuthor

Instagram: @MoniqueRoffey

Website: www.moniqueroffey.com

mon canal still

Out Now – Anthem of the Sea – Thom Collins @thomwolf @realthomcollins

anthemofthesea_9781786515681_email

Blurb:

An ocean of possibility. For love, revenge and murder.

anthemofthesea_800[10312]Daniel Blake, a handsome young singer, boards the Atlantic Anthem in Portugal for the final voyage of her maiden season. The state-of-the-art ship is the jewel in the Royal Atlantic cruise fleet. For Daniel, a one-time boy band member and TV talent show winner, it’s an honor to perform aboard such a vessel. Daniel loves the freedom and adventure of the sea. He began his solo career as a cruise ship entertainer and returning to the ocean as a headline act brings him full circle. He isn’t looking for love.

Neither is comedian Elijah Mann. Working at sea has given Elijah’s career the boost it desperately needed. Often considered too good-looking and sexy to be funny, work has been hard to come by since his TV show was canceled. With a potential new career opening up, he must remain focused. But when Elijah meets Daniel the attraction is mutual and instant. As the ship sets sail for England they have three days to get to know each other. Elijah can’t let that opportunity pass.

The voyage home is far from smooth. Also on board is a figure from Daniel’s past. A man who’s been holding a grudge for years, waiting for his moment. As a storm builds in the North Atlantic, Daniel and Elijah discover that the trip of a lifetime could be their last.

LINKS:

Pride Publishing

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Kobo

Barnes and Noble

 anthemofthesea-outnow[113568]

EXCERPT:

The taxi collected Daniel Blake from the hotel on time. He liked that. Punctuality, efficiency and professionalism—three things he valued in all areas of his career. Be on time and be prepared—that had been his motto since he was fourteen years old. Fifteen years later, he continued to live by it.

He helped the driver load his gear into the trunk. There wasn’t much of it. When on the road, he traveled light with just a medium-sized case, a holdall and a suit carrier. He’d arrived in Lisbon the previous morning, disembarking from a cruise ship, where he’d performed for two nights. His shirts would need washing and his suit pressing before his next show. There was plenty of time.

He gave the driver directions to his designated cruise terminal and climbed onto the back seat. Thankfully, the air conditioning was running. Though it was late October, the outside temperature remained in the mid-eighties and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock. Last night he had heard some of the hotel staff complain about the weather turning cold, but for a boy like him, born and raised in the northeast of England, these climates were well above average. Back home, this would be a hot day in June or July.

It was a short drive to the port. Early in the day, but the streets were busy. Three massive cruise ships were anchored in the harbor, discharging thousands of eager tourists into the city. British, American, German, Japanese, they scurried through the streets, clutching backpacks and maps, keen to explore as much as they could of the historic Portuguese city in the few hours they had here.

Daniel smiled at their faces as they zipped by.

Lisbon, his last stop before home.

The car arrived at the port and within ten minutes Daniel stood beside the gangway with his luggage, waiting for the necessary security calls to be made that would allow him to board the ship. The enormous vessel towered above him, casting a huge shadow across the dock. The Atlantic was one of the biggest and most spectacular cruise ships in the world.

There were a lot of criticisms for super ships such as this. He’d heard them described as floating shopping malls, grotesque monstrosities and budget hotels at sea, but for Daniel there was something quite majestic about the craft and its design, to say nothing of the engineering that went into the construction of such a huge vessel.

“Those things are so top heavy,” a jobbing magician once had told him in a bar. “I hear they roll right over in high seas.”

Daniel had laughed at the man’s ignorance. “And when did you last hear of that happening?”

The man had floundered. “I’m just saying that something so uneven can’t be safe, can it? You won’t ever catch me on one of them things. Mug’s game, isn’t it?”

“It’s your loss,” Daniel had told him cheerily. He felt safer at sea, even in the roughest weather, than he ever had on a plane. Motorways too. It might not be the quickest, but without a doubt it was the most luxurious and extravagant way to travel. He loved being at sea.

Waiting for the security guy to return with his passport, Daniel realized he’d drawn some attention.

A slow stream of passengers was returning to the ship. They couldn’t have seen much of Lisbon, coming back already. Among them was an English family. While the parents lit cigarettes before joining the embarkation queue, the daughter, who looked around fourteen, stared directly at him.

“Hi.” He smiled. “Good day out?”

The girl was plump and pretty with wavy brown hair that fell around her shoulders. She wore a sweet, flowery sundress and red Converse shoes. She blushed as she realized she’d been caught gawking.

“Are you…? Oh, my God, you are, aren’t you? You’re Daniel Blake.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Don’t shoot me.”

The girl nervously stepped forward, looking at him with wide, hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting to join the ship. I’m performing on board.”

Her jaw fell. “The Anthem? You’re coming on the Anthem?

He nodded. He didn’t mind being recognized like this. Daniel was famous enough in the UK, but not so much that it ever became an inconvenience. His fame came from a TV talent show. The public had made him and he appreciated all the support he got.

“Oh my God.” The girl’s face became highly animated. “Mam! Dad! Come here. Oh my God, you won’t believe it. Daniel Blake. It’s actually him.”

Her bemused parents stubbed out their cigarettes and came over. They were an attractive-looking couple of around forty. The girl looked a lot like her father.

“I hope she’s not bothering you,” the dad said, looking cautiously between Daniel and his daughter.

“Not a bit,” Daniel assured him. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Daniel is going to be singing on the ship. Can you believe it? How cool is that?” She grinned a mile wide.

“Starting tomorrow,” he said. “Make certain you get yourselves a great seat down front. I can use all the support I can get.”

“I will, I will. I voted for you every week on The One. You were my favorite from the start.”

“So it’s you I need to thank for winning. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Julieann.”

“Well, thank you, Julieann. Your votes changed my life.”

The girl blushed violently.

The security officer came back to escort Daniel onto the ship. Before boarding, he posed for photographs with Julieann and her family.

“The girls at school will have a fit when they see these on Instagram,” Julieann said proudly as they took a selfie together.

“See you at the shows,” Daniel said as he walked on board. “And don’t forget—front row. Be there. I’ll look out for you.”

“We’ll definitely be there.”

Once on board, he passed his luggage through the security scanner and was equipped with his sea pass ID, the plastic card that would enable him to move around the ship, access his accommodation and run a tab in the bars and shops. He was greeted on the far side of security by a young woman in a blue shirt and khaki shorts. Her soft blonde hair was tied back from her round, attractive face. She was vaguely familiar from his engagement earlier in the season. He checked her name badge to refresh his memory. Belle Hodges, entertainment crew, from South Australia.

“Hi,” Belle said cheerily. “It’s wonderful to have you back on board.”

She extended her hand and he shook it. “It’s great to be back. Honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this since I left in May. How has your maiden season gone?”

“Over too quickly and totally ace. I can’t believe it’s been that long since you were here. Yikes, the time has flown. Let me give you a hand with your stuff.”

“That’s okay. I can manage. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll find my way.”

Ignoring his protests, Belle took up the suit carrier.

“You’re in real luck,” she said. “You’ve been allocated a large stateroom on one of the passenger decks. Balcony and all.”

“You’re joking? Wow. Am I sharing with the house band or a football team?”

Belle giggled, wrinkling her nose. “Silly. You’ve got the whole place to yourself.”

“Seriously? What gives? I never get accommodation like that.”

Belle looked around cautiously and lowered her voice. “We had a family thrown off the ship in Gran Canaria so you’ve got their room. They caused a fight in the martini bar and punched an officer who tried to intervene. Captain Rassimov put them off at the next port. No second chances.”

“Good to know we’re in such firm hands.”

“Captain Rassimov is the best,” Belle gushed.

Daniel didn’t doubt it. He’d met the dashing captain on his last trip. Tall, dark, handsome and extremely charismatic, he sent hearts beating fast among the passengers and crew. If he wasn’t so straight, Daniel would fancy him too. Rassimov was the perfect man to master such a grand vessel.

Launched in May, with a rumored cost of over one-point-five billion, the Atlantic Anthem was coming to the end of its inaugural European season. It was the newest and biggest vessel in the Royal Atlantic fleet. Daniel had spent two nights on board when he’d performed a headline set on the maiden voyage. He’d worked for cruise companies all over the world, but he couldn’t fail to be impressed by the Anthem. It was billed as the ship with everything. From his own experience that was certainly true.

As he walked through the decks with Belle, his sense of excitement increased. The interior was truly splendid. Not a penny had been spared, from the lush carpets to the paintings and sculptures that graced every deck. Before coming on board, he’d read all the specs—about the spa and fitness center, two swimming pools and a solarium, the Royal Theater with nine-hundred-sixty seats, the bars—eight of them across the ship—the main dining room plus three specialty restaurants and a twenty-four-hour café. Several public entertainment areas were situated on Decks Four and Five around a jaw-dropping central staircase. Knowing all of that in advance, he still had been blown away when he’d came upon the ship for the first time. And he felt it now, all over again.

Only the most jaded, spoiled and hard-to-please traveler could fail to be inspired by the Anthem.

They rode one of the glass elevators to the tenth floor where Belle led him down a long corridor to his stateroom in the forward section of the ship.

“Last time, I had an interior cabin in the crew quarters.” He laughed.

“Yep, that’s where they like to cram us in. But now you’ve got this.”

Daniel swiped his sea pass card to enter the room. A major step up from crew class, the room was bright and contemporary, to the standard of any good hotel. He had an enormous double bed all to himself and a sitting area with a long, cream leather sofa. There was a dressing table, minibar, TV, private bathroom and balcony.

“I hope I don’t get lost in here,” he joked, dumping his luggage by the wardrobe.

“As long as you’re on stage for your shows tomorrow night, no one will mind what you get up to in here,” Belle said.

“You can put your mind at ease on that count,” he said. “I’ve been performing since I was fourteen and I’ve never missed a show in my life.”

Belle left him to settle in. Daniel unpacked his clothes first and filled a plastic bag with stuff that needed washing immediately—shirts, socks and underwear. Another great thing about working on a luxury cruise liner—everything was to hand. If he left the bag out today, all the items would be washed, ironed and returned by tomorrow.

He went into the bathroom next, laying out his razor, toothbrush and skincare products. He brought everything with him when he traveled. Though he wasn’t particularly vain, it was important to look good in public.

He didn’t have to worry. At twenty-nine years old—five months shy of thirty—he was in prime condition. He’d never looked better. For years he used to hate the way he looked. Everything about him had been out of proportion, especially his face. Eyes, teeth, nose, chin, they were always too big. But throughout his twenties, the rest of his body had caught up. He’d filled out and gained muscle and his face, which had seemed so awkward in his teens, had developed an extraordinary handsomeness. He had a strong jaw with a cowboy cleft, while his mouth was wide and masculine. With sky-blue eyes and thick brown hair, he had become a good-looking man. Very good-looking.

His confidence hadn’t grown to match his looks. A part of him would always be that skinny, peculiar kid. But only he could see it.

Finally unpacked, he relaxed and walked onto the balcony. He had a great view of the city and the people below, streaming like ants around the port terminals. Daniel took a moment to enjoy it all. He loved just about every part of the cruise experience.

Every ship, every voyage, was a new adventure.

The Atlantic Anthem promised a greater adventure than any other.

He couldn’t wait to get started.

Thom Collins Bio

Thom Collins

Thom Collins is the author of the novel Closer by Morning, with Pride Publishing. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

The novellas Gods of Vengeance and Silent Voices were published by Pride in early 2017, followed by the novel Anthem of the Sea, the first book in the Anthem Trilogy. He has recently finished writing the second book in a series and is working on the third.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age. Since taking his first cruise in 2013 he realized that sailing is the way to go.

Links:

Blog

Twitter:   @thomwolf and @realthomcollins

Email: thomcollinsauthor@aol.com

releaseblitzbutton_anthemofthesea

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now – The Billionaire Shifter’s Secret Baby – Diana Seere @dianaseerebooks

The Billionaire Shifter’s Secret Baby

(Howls Romance #4) (Billionaire Shifters #4)

by Diana Seere

TBSSB FB Banner

Description:

A masquerade ball in Malibu led to a single night of passion under the stars… and set the wheels of fate in motion.

Three years ago, waitress Kara Jablonski gave in to her wilder side with a fellow weretiger, the rock star billionaire Lars Jensen, a sun-kissed blond drummer with a viking’s build. Six weeks later, the pregnancy test came back positive.

Knowing Lars’ powerful, overbearing mother would be able to take the baby away, Kara did what she had to do.

She hid him.

Now chance has brought Lars back into her life, his touch making her pulse beat like the old legends. So strong, so loud, so bold.

So right.

But can she trust him to want more than another night under the stars? Can she trust him to claim his son as his heir… and Kara as his mate?

Fate responds with a roar…

The Billionaire Shifter’s Secret Baby is a novella that stars Lars Jensen, a member of a shifter family with viking blood featured in earlier books in the series, and is part of the Howls Romance series as well: http://howlsromance.com

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2nB6juA

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2otYJ8A

Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2mMPSPi

Amazon Australia: http://amzn.to/2mMPVL8

iBooks: http://apple.co/2nfhmtd

Nook/BN: http://bit.ly/2mMMqEl

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2odcZQb

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2o2rIjH

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2nrfhuZ

About the Author:

Diana Seere was raised by wolves in the forests outside Boston and San Francisco. The only time she spends in packs these days is at romance writing conventions. In truth, Diana is two New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors who decided to write shifter romance and have more fun.

Sign up for her New Releases and Sales email newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/beUZnr

Website: https://www.dianaseere.com/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/beUZnr

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/dianaseerebooks

TBSSB Cover.jpeg

Excerpt:

Under normal circumstances, Kara Jablonski would’ve been happy to pause and admire the towering blond god as he strode across the elegant lobby below the Platinum Club. His expensive black suit was obviously custom-made, cut perfectly to his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and powerful thighs. Above the impressive physique, thick hair swept away from his forehead in loose waves, gleaming like gold in the sunlight pouring in through the Boston skyscraper’s high windows. His eyes were a piercing cobalt blue. And even more stunning than the rest of him, one perfect dimple indented his chin as if kissed by a naughty, slutty angel.

Right… there. She could almost feel it under her lips.

Under normal circumstances, she would’ve taken the time to drink in every inch of him, knowing he’d never notice a girl like her even if she were openly drooling like a starving stray cat.

Meow.

But this was not a normal circumstance.

Heart thudding against her ribs, Kara lifted her bag in front of her face and scurried behind a row of potted ficus trees. After a moment, she risked peeking through the leaves at the god.

No, not a god.

A weretiger.

The breath seeped out of her, leaving her limp. How dare he look so good, so beautiful, so… unchanged?

Two years, almost three. But he hadn’t aged a day. Of course, shifters had exceptionally long lives, even shifters from the poor, forgotten branches of the breed—like her.

But she was certain she had aged a lifetime in the past two years, almost three. Everything had changed since that night.

Everything.

What was he doing here? If she’d ever thought he would show up in Boston, let alone this building, she never would’ve taken the waitressing job at the Platinum Club. So far as she knew, he wasn’t even an American. He was a globe-trotting playboy, he and his brothers loaded with as much old money as the Stantons, the powerful family of shifters who owned this building.

Well, she assumed they did. When Eva called her about working here, she’d implied as much. Eva, also a shifter of modest means, although not as modest as Kara’s, managed the Platinum Club. Eva was always looking for good waitstaff, she’d said, especially lately since there had been unusually high turnover.

He should be out in the world, enjoying his wealth, prestige, and gorgeousness—in both man and tiger form. He shouldn’t be parading around Boston when she was just figuring how to get through her life without him, not that she’d ever had her life with him, except for that one night. She and Nana had just moved into a two-bedroom apartment, and this job had an elite clientele with a salary to match. A salary they needed desperately.

Where’d he go? She peered through the branches again, an uncontrollable sigh drifting out of her.

He was out of sight and out of her life.

Again.

Another sigh.

Seeing him wasn’t only painful, but dangerous. However, as tempted as she was to turn and run out of the building and never look back—perhaps even shifting to speed her escape—she straightened her spine and held her ground.

She couldn’t leave. She needed this job. They all did. The days of only thinking of herself had passed.

After waiting another minute, she stepped out from behind the potted trees and walked to the elevator. Although the waitresses had a dressing room they could use before their shifts, Kara preferred to work as she’d arrived, in her favorite black dress and ballet flats. She liked how it made her invisible—or maybe she liked an excuse for why most people didn’t notice her, and even men she’d danced with, men she’d kissed, men she’d— Well, even they seemed capable of completely forgetting her. Easier to blame it on her boring clothes than on her face, body, or personality.

He’d walked within five feet of her and hadn’t even blinked. Neither one of his golden-lashed eyelids over his sapphire-blue irises had flickered a millimeter. She’d even gasped a little when he’d stepped in front of her. All morning, in fact, she’d been as jumpy as a cat at a pool party, sweating too much, breathing too fast—she’d thought it was nerves about starting the new job.

But it was nerves about him.

The father of her child.

And he didn’t even know her name.

releaseblitzbutton_TBSSB

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

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

TEG_KDGrace_TheTutorOffer_Twitter_final

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.”

TEG_KDGrace_TheTutorOffer_Facebook_final

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.

saleblitzbutton_thetutor

Release Blitz ~ Canadian Muscle Book 2 ~ Guarding His Anchor by @KaceyHammell #erotic #RomanticSuspense

Guarding His Anchor

Series: Canadian Muscle (Book 2)

by

Kacey Hammell

 

 guardinghisanchor

Genre: Contemporary/Suspense/Erotic Romance

W.C.: 57,400

Warning: Includes biting (Odaxelagnia) during sex

ISBN: 978-1-77339-185-4

Release Date: February 21, 2017

Publisher: Evernight Publishing


Canadian Muscle …

When Desires Need Protecting.

Charlotte Weber is no stranger to heartbreak. FBI agent Frank Shaw has swept in and out of her life as though she’s a revolving door, stomping on her heart in the process. Now that she’s finally had enough, he’s back again and seems determined to spin her life out of control.

Frank knows Charlie is the anchor for his lost soul, even though he can’t risk settling down. The demons of his past are too great, and he won’t run the risk of hurting her. This time, his only objective should be locating Charlie’s brother, Sean. But Charlie’s a complication, and not just because she refuses to believe Sean is guilty.

As Frank and Charlie fight for what they believe in, they also try to resist their powerful connection. The future is unclear, but when danger surrounds them, they are each other’s only anchor.

Reviews:

“…fast paced suspenseful romance to enjoy, if you like a high heat level! There is a beautiful chemistry between Charlotte and Frank! They can’t live together, however, they cannot stay away either! Their relationship is complicated! Frank is a complex character, and because he suffered a terrible childhood, he is still fighting his demons…Guarding His Anchor is very well written with an amazing plot and story line! I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an erotic read! ~Nicole, Amazon


frank
Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2017

Charlie closed her eyes and leaned against the door. Tonight had resolved nothing. She’d tried to let Neal down easy, but everything she’d said had gone over his fucking head. Confusion rioted in her skull, throbbing non-stop.A shift of movement caught her attention, startling her. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, standing tall, on the defense.Oh, for crying out loud!

All she needed tonight was Frank Shaw in her house, staring at her with anger spitting fire from his eyeballs.

But there he was, eyeing her open collar and cleavage, fists bunched at his sides.

Frustration, sexual and otherwise thanks to him showing up when she least expected, curled around her like molten lava spilling from a volcano.

If he wanted a fight, he’d come to the right place.

“What the hell are you doing sneaking into my house?” she demanded, stomping toward him.

“Calm down. Vikki called, asked me to hang some fucking curtains. She said you were at the bar.”

“Can’t you think up a better excuse than that?”

His eyes roamed over her from head to toe. Damn that spark in his eyes when he gazed at her like that. Anger turned to potent hunger in seconds flat, watching her as if she were the prey and he the hunter … She swallowed hard.

“If I’d known you were home and … busy, I wouldn’t have bothered. Vikki said the back door was open.”

“I’ll talk to her about that.” Charlie sighed, then walked into the kitchen. “Her room is across the hall, last door on the right.”

Undeterred, he followed her. “Hot date, huh?”

“None of your business.” He was the very last person in the world she wanted to discuss Neal with.

He leaned on the island in the center of the room. “I guess Vikki wasn’t even aware you had a date tonight.”

No doubt Vikki didn’t cared anyway. She was Team Charlie and Frank, and Charlie wouldn’t be surprised if her pal had planned the whole thing. Hang curtains, indeed. At this time of night? Without running it past the owner, her roommate? Charlie suspected Vikki was up to no good.

“Doesn’t matter.” Charlie put the last of the wine in the fridge, grabbed a cloth, and cleaned the counters. “You can do it tomorrow when I’m at work. Good-night.” Focused on one spot, she scrubbed hard, hoping he’d take the suggestion.

“You look beautiful.” His soft comment skimmed along her ear as he moved in behind her.

“Frank, don’t. I just had another guy here, for heaven’s sake.”

“Doesn’t matter. It sure didn’t end the way he thought. I know when you’ve been fucked good and satisfied and when you’re not.”

Buy Links:
Book Page

Evernight Publishing

Amazon US
Amazon Canada
Amazon UK

Universal Link

Bookstrand

Soon available at bookstores…
Smashwords / Kobo / B&N (Nook) / iTunes

Goodreads

And for a LIMITED TIME ONLY, get book 1: Guarding Midnight on sale for .99 Cents >>

Amazon


99cent
Author Bio:

 

Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters. These days, as a multi- published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres she writes.

Mom of three, Kacey lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada.

Readers can find all my titles on my Website

Please consider following me onTwitter
Facebook
Facebook Reader Group

And sign up for my newsletter

releaseblitzbutton_gha
Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services

Doctor’s Orders by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #mm #kink bdsm, erotic romance

A Kinky M/M Erotic Romance Novella by Lucy Felthouse,

Doctor’s Orders

Blurb:

doctorsorders

Hospital porter Aaron Miller isn’t expecting a very exciting birthday. He and his doctor boyfriend, Blake Colville, are working opposite shifts, leaving Aaron to go home to an empty house and the prospect of another shift the following day. Just as he’s leaving work, however, an unexpected sexy encounter in a supply cupboard leaves him feeling in a much more celebratory mood. And an impending dirty weekend away with Blake just puts the icing on the non-existent cake. But who needs cake when you’re dating a dominant doctor?

Note: Doctor’s Orders has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/doctorsorders

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2h1nfXa

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2hH8kFl

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hc3lgM

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hT1zye

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2h1lKIo

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33278227-doctor-s-orders

teaser_doctorsorders

Excerpt:

Aaron hummed contentedly as he walked along the white-painted corridor towards the locker room. He was happy in his job as a hospital porter. He might not be saving lives, like his doctor boyfriend, Blake, but he liked to think he was improving them. He made the effort with the patients he transported around—or the ones that were well enough to hold a conversation with him, anyway. He chatted to them, showed an interest, tried to make them laugh, always remained positive, even when things were bleak. That was his way of spreading a little cheer, or helping someone forget their worries, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was a small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless, and it made him feel good.

The corridor stretched on, and Aaron thought for the umpteenth time that it could do with some artwork on the walls—something other than doors to break up the interminable expanse of white paint and grey dado rail. But patients never came to this area of the building—unless they were lost—so there was no need to spend any more money on it than was absolutely necessary. Aaron understood that, but boy did it make for a dull walk to the locker room.

As he continued his journey, he saw that a supply cupboard door on the left hand side of the corridor was ajar. It was nothing unusual—people often propped doors open with their feet if they were just leaning in to grab something, or used something as a door stop if they needed both hands to carry what they’d come to collect and therefore couldn’t open the door again to let themselves out.

Reaching the door, he’d just opened his mouth to call out and ask whoever it was if they needed help, when the gap grew wider. A white-clad arm appeared and the accompanying hand grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him roughly into the cupboard.

“Wha—”

Aaron didn’t even get chance to finish his exclamation, as he’d been slammed against the now-closed cupboard door, and hard, demanding lips were pressed to his. Lips, he realised, as his brain caught up with the turn of events, that belonged to Doctor Blake Colville. Lips that were allowed to kiss his, thank God!

The fresh, spicy scent of Blake’s cologne invaded Aaron’s nostrils, and he relaxed into the kiss, returned it with enthusiasm. Blake’s tongue sought entrance to Aaron’s mouth, and he gave it willingly, moaning as their tongues slipped and tangled together sensuously, and Blake’s firm, lithe body pinned his slightly-more-muscular one against the cool wood of the door. He stifled any further moans that wanted to sneak out, remembering that, hot as the situation was, it was also pretty precarious, and both of them could get into serious trouble if they were caught. Patients may not frequent this area of the building, but the staff sure did.

Reaching out, he gripped the lapels of Blake’s white coat and pulled, so their bodies were crushed together and their kiss grew bruisingly brutal—in a good way.

The move had clearly fanned the flames of Blake’s lust, because he began grinding his crotch against Aaron’s, teasing their already erect cocks and pushing them both rapidly towards the point of no return.

But could there be a point of no return, given where they were? How on earth would they get away with making love—or, in this case, should it be fucking?–in a supply cupboard in the hospital? Granted, it was one of the quieter areas of the building, but bloody hell…

*****

Author 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), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

releaseblitzbutton_doctorsorders

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.