How I Came to be a Writer – Guest Post by Freda Lightfoot (@fredalightfoot) #giveaway

by | May 30, 2018 | | 1 Comment

Thank you so much for inviting me on your blog. I’ll tell you a little about myself.

How I came to be a writer.
I longed to become a writer but this was considered rather an exotic ambition so my parents encouraged me to get an education first. No one in my family had ever stayed on for further education before, so I was elected to blaze the trail. I qualified as a primary teacher and worked for a number of years. I married in 1969 and a few years later we moved to the Lake District with our two daughters. I then ran a bookshop for ten years and secretly wrote late in the night.

Later, when I sold my bookshop, I tried anything and everything. Short stories, serials, a children’s novel, picture scripts and a few Mills & Boon contemporaries, although I gained more rejection slips than cheques. The aim was to send material out faster than it came back, which wasn’t easy. We had a brilliant postal service and all the rejections would come bouncing back with remarkable speed. But at last the day came when I sold my first short story to D.C.Thompson. It was a red letter day indeed. That was also the name of the magazine, now defunct. Following this breakthrough I seemed to develop the knack for I went on to sell many more stories. With renewed confidence I tried again for Mills & Boon, this time with a historical, Madeiran Legacy, which was accepted. I wrote five historical romances as Marion Carr for Mills & Boon which greatly taught me my craft. Only later did I have sufficient confidence to try for the mainstream fiction market, selling my first saga, Luckpenny Land, to Hodder & Stoughton in 1993 on a three book contract.

I was fortunate back in 2010 to get the rights of many of my backlist reverted from a couple of publishers. Hearing about ebooks in the US I set out to learn how to produce them, finally achieved that and regularly self-published some. Sales began quite slowly, which didn’t trouble me as I was also writing for another publisher. But once Kindles arrived in the UK in Christmas 2011, I must say my sales shot up surprisingly well and I was amazed by my success. As a consequence in 2013, I was contacted by Amazon Lake Union for an interview, then later offered a contract by them. My first book with them, The Amber Keeper, soon sold over a hundred thousand, and has now sold more. Such a thrill. Selling ebooks is now much higher for me than print books. My second book was Forgotten Women, which is also doing quite well. Now comes publication of Girls of the Great War, which I loved writing too.

This book was such fun to write, if sad and heartbreaking when Cecily lost the love of her life. She was concerned for herself, and also for her sister Merryn, who was engrossed with a young man Cecily did not approve of. He was not an easy young man.

*****

Excerpt from Girls of the Great War:

Later that afternoon Merryn eagerly hurried over to the Palace Theatre just a short distance away. The young drummer was fully engaged in rehearsal, the bandleader constantly hammering his baton to stop the musicians playing while he issued more instructions to them. She knew she would have to wait a while before he was free, so taking a seat she watched him. He was a cheerful young man with reddish hair, soft grey eyes that were constantly alight behind his spectacles, a slightly gap-toothed smile and a chiselled chin. Being a bit of a joker, Johnny Wilcox was great fun. When finally he was allowed a break, Merryn offered to buy him an afternoon tea at a nearby café.

‘There’s something I’d like to discuss with you over a little tiffin,’ she said with a smile.

‘That sounds good,’ he grinned, his expression filled with curiosity.

As they sat enjoying tea and biscuits, Merryn told him of her sister’s plan to create a small concert party and entertain the troops in France.

He looked a little taken aback. ‘Blimey, that’ll be a challenge. I wouldn’t want anything dreadful to happen to either of you two girls.’

‘I don’t think we’ll be anywhere near the front line where the fighting is going on. We just plan to entertain the soldiers at their bases. I know you appreciated how Cecily discovered her talent to sing. Oh, and by the way, I can play an accordion.’

He gave another wide grin. ‘What a brick you are, a real sport. As you know, I play drums and cymbals, so can I come too?’

Merryn blinked in surprise, amazed by this instant offer, having fully expected she’d need to persuade him. ‘You most certainly can. I was about to ask if you’d be interested, as we’d welcome your support. I doubt there’ll be any wages paid since we’ll be volunteers fed and accommodated by the army.’

He creased his lips into a pout then gave a little smirk. ‘I’ll do my best to accept that fact. You’re a girl with great talent, as is Cecily. I’d love to work with you both.’

The weather being sunny he walked with her to the beach, talking about the music they loved to play and how long it had taken each of them to learn these skills. ‘I’ve been playing drums all my life, ever since Dad bought me one for Christmas when I was ten. It kept me sane when I was suffering his loss.’

‘Oh, how dreadful. How did that happen? I know very little about your past.’

‘I was born in Barnsley in Yorkshire; part of a working class family who became even poorer after Dad was tragically killed in a mining accident. Such bloody bad luck. Following his death my mam worked as a cleaner, earning barely enough money to feed her six children, all of them younger than me. I eventually was able to help by getting myself a job playing my drum kit at a local pub. I was so thrilled with Dad’s present that I was determined to improve it and learn how to play well. Thankfully I succeeded.’

‘Good for you, Johnny, I’m glad to hear that. My father sadly drowned in the Thames when we were quite young, although how that happened has never been explained to us and we have little memory of him. Queenie refuses to say anything on the subject, not even explain why her marriage went wrong.’

‘My mam didn’t talk much about her early life either. Far too distressing for her.’

Merryn decided that they had a great deal in common and could be well suited to work together, both being musicians. ‘I’m delighted to hear that you wish to join our team.’

‘Why would I not, when you’re so attractive?’

Merryn rolled her eyes in amusement, having no belief in her own looks. She saw herself as quite plain, a little too round and simply practical, interested mainly in fashion, sewing, make-up and hairstyles. Cecily had always been the pretty one with talent and plenty of young men falling for her, whereas she’d never found a boy who really took a shine to her. Merryn adored her sister and felt quite proud of her famous mother too, readily willing to deal with Queenie’s problems. His next words startled her out of those thoughts.

‘Can I give you a little kiss of thanks,’ Johnny murmured.

‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea,’ she stuttered. He was a most pleasant young man, if a little flirtatious.

‘I must confess that I’ve always felt the need for more closeness between us.’ Taking hold of her hand he gave it a gentle little kiss.

*****

Blurb
Cecily Hanson longs to live life on her own terms—to leave the shadow of her overbearing mother and marry her childhood sweetheart once he returns from the Great War. But when her fiancé is lost at sea, this future is shattered. Looking for meaning again, she decides to perform for the troops in France.

Life on the front line is both rewarding and terrifying, and Cecily soon finds herself more involved—and more in danger—than she ever thought possible. And her family has followed her to France. Her sister, Merryn, has fallen for a young drummer whose charm hides a dark side, while their mother, Queenie—a faded star of the stage tormented by her own secret heartache—seems set on a path of self-destruction.

As the war draws to a close and their hopes turn once again to the future, Cecily and Merryn are more determined than ever to unravel the truth about their mother’s past: what has she been hiding from them—and why?

Buy links:

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2wKaX2y

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2rGc528

*****

My Biog
I was born in a small mill town in Lancashire. My mother comes from generations of weavers, and my father was a shoe-repairer. I still remember the first pair of clogs he made for me. After several years of teaching, I opened a bookshop in Kendal, Cumbria. And while living in the rural Lakeland Fells, rearing sheep and hens, I turned to writing. I wrote over fifty articles and short stories for magazines such as My Weekly and Woman’s Realm, before finding my vocation as a novelist and became a Sunday Times Bestselling author. I’ve now written over forty-eight novels, mostly sagas and historical fiction, my three latest books, including Girls of the Great War, out in May are published by Amazon Lake Union. I spend warm winters living in Spain, and the rainy summers in Britain.

Website: www.freda@fredalightfoot.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Freda-Lightfoot-Books/149641371839646

Twitter: @fredalightfoot

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/448774.Freda_Lightfoot

My Blogspot: http://www.fredalightfoot.blogspot.com/

If you wish to be kept up to date on new titles and contests, sign up on my website http://www.fredalightfoot.co.uk  to subscribe to my Newsletter: I only send out 4 or 5 a year so your inbox won’t be flooded.

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here:  http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/freda-lightfoot-3/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

To My Muse by Nicola M. Cameron (@YesItsNicolaC)

by | May 29, 2018 | | 1 Comment

Hello, and thanks so much for having To My Muse on your blog today. If I’m being honest with everyone, the tagline for this book should be, “Loosely based on a kind of true story!”

Back in March 2017, I pinged the extremely talented, kind, and tolerant actor Louis Herthum on Twitter and told him that he’d helped to inspire my new dystopian SF romance novel Degree of Resistance with his performance in Westworld. This resulted in a brief but lovely chat, at the end of which I asked if he’d like a print copy of Degree. To my delight, he said yes and told me where to send the book. The next day I signed a spandy new copy to him, packaged it up, and mailed it off, happy as a clam.

Six hours later, I had a nervous breakdown.

See, since I write romance novels that tend towards the explicit side of things, sex scenes don’t shock me. They’re just another part of the plot, and not even the most interesting part a lot of the time. But I forget that civilians don’t always share that view, and I had just sent a perfectly nice stranger a book that had some rather hot (well, no—extremely hot) scenes in it. Worse, I’d told him that he had inspired the plot. I was belatedly but absolutely convinced that he would put two and two together and come up with, “Note to self—make sure this pervert never comes within 50 yards of me.”

Panicking, I called my friend T. As she tried to talk me down, pointing out that 1) Lou’s a guy, so it was highly unlikely that 2) he would read a romance novel, even one with heavy SF themes, and 3) would probably just stick it on a shelf as a nice piece of egoboo, I was busy coming up with an insane plan—I would fly to LA, break into his agent’s office, steal back the book, and nobody would be the wiser. Brilliant! It would work!

Why, yes, I’m a little neurotic when it comes to my writing, why do you ask?

Needless to say, I was talked out of this. But after I calmed down I did have to admit that it was a hell of a funny idea. And when I decided to try writing a contemporary romantic comedy, it popped back into my head and waved its little hands, saying, “Me! Use me!” Seeing as I’d already lost some of my sanity and a largish patch of stomach lining on the concept, I figured why not. To My Muse is the result.

By the way, this book? No sex. Lots of comedy and banter between my leads, but no sex. Yes, I’m shocked as well. But boy, it was a ball to write.

*****

To My MuseContemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, MF

Word Count: 67,000

Heat Level 2

Published by Belaurient Press

ISBN: 978-0-46-328424-7

BLURB:

Ever do something really, really dumb?

When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.

With the help of a strategic lie and a charismatic knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?

BUY LINKS:

Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

*****

EXCERPT

Giving Theresa a thumbs up, I closed the door and turned my attention to the hotel room. It had already been cleaned and the bed was neatly made. A suitcase sat on the valet stand next to the TV, and the dresser and desk held various pieces of paper, notes, and a couple of plastic shopping bags, all the usual stuff when you’re stuck in a hotel room for a couple of weeks.

Of course, the fangirl part of my brain was screeching like a gibbon at me that I was in Tom Morrison’s hotel room. He’d slept in that very bed last night. Sat at that desk to check his email and Facebook. Took a dump behind the closed door of what I assumed was the bathroom. The prosaic nature of that last bit helped me regain some self-control, and I tiptoed (why, I don’t know, I’m an idiot) over to the desk. There was what looked like a script for GearShifter on it, as well as a MacBook Pro, but no Feast of Lovers. Bad Tom, no leaving your expensive computer equipment out where people can steal it.

I wanted to leaf through the script so badly, but I ignored it and kept looking for Feast. Not on the desk top, not on the dresser, not on the TV. I was starting to worry that he’d taken it with him to the location when I noticed the suitcase. I truly, honestly hated the idea of going through his personal stuff, but he might have stuck it in there. I could just lift the lid, take a peek, maybe it was in plain sight—

I had the lid in hand when the bathroom door swung open and a tall, beautiful blonde in a towel strutted out. “I thought I heard you—” she purred, before she saw me. Both face and tone iced over. “Who the hell are you?”

I let out a noise that could have been used as a sound effect for a creaking vault door. The blonde stalked closer, looming over me. Up close, I could see some fine lines around her eyes, but she was still ridiculously gorgeous. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Oh. Oh, shit. My brain informed me that I was currently sharing a room with Claudine Ellery, the actress playing Tom’s antagonist/love interest on the show. What the hell was she doing in his bathroom? Were they dating in real life? Why was I asking stupid questions when I should be turning and running for my freaking life?

And then Fate decided that she needed an even bigger chuckle because the room door opened and Tom Morrison walked in. I caught a glimpse of an apologetic Theresa hovering in the hallway before she was eclipsed by Tom, who was staring at Claudine and me.

Oh, God. He was even better looking in person. Not all actors are, but Tom—he was edible. Curly black hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, and lips that I’d wanted to kiss since the first time I saw him on screen. With faded jeans that fit him perfectly, a dusty white button-down with rolled up sleeves, just the right amount of chest hair peeping out of his collar, and the cutest smudge of dust across one laser-sharp cheekbone, he was every one of my fantasies come to warm, tall life right in front of me.

And I had broken into his hotel room.

That was it. I was going to jail, assuming that the cops didn’t just see “brown person” and shoot me when they got here. At the very least I’d get fired from Golden State. Mom and Dad would disown me, Dada and Dadi would die of shame, and Derek would probably take out an ad in the LA Times saying that I was adopted. My only hope was that Theresa had gotten the hell out of here. There was no reason for both of us to go down for my stupidity—

“Lilian, darling, what are you doing here?”

My brain skidded to a halt. Words had come out of Tom Morrison’s mouth. Friendly words. While he was staring directly at me. Looking, if I may say so, as if he was talking to someone he knew. Which he didn’t, because I may not have remembered sending him my book but I would definitely remember meeting him.

“Um. Hi?” I waved weakly.

“I thought you decided not to come out this weekend.” He crossed to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders as he stared at Claudine. He squeezed my shoulder once, kind of hard, then did it again.

Even with my brain in fangirl vapor lock I can take a hint. I had no idea how he knew who I was, but he wanted me to play along. Plastering a grin on my face, I slipped my arm around his waist and squeezed back. His torso felt like warm rock, and he smelled so good.

“Well, I figured I needed a road trip,” I extemporized, giving him a bright smile. “And I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all, angel,” he purred. Up close, I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. It disappeared as he turned to Claudine. “Claud, why are you in my room wearing a towel?” he asked politely.

She planted hands on slim hips, cocking her head to the side. “Seriously? You have to ask why?”

“Yes, because if I remember correctly, I told you that I had no interest in going to bed with you. In fact, I’m quite sure I informed you of this on numerous occasions. And when I walk into my hotel room and see you wearing nothing but terrycloth while my girlfriend,” this time his squeeze was gentle, “is standing there looking gobsmacked, I have to wonder what the actual fuck you’re up to.”

My face went rigid as it tried to hold onto my smile. Girlfriend? Eeeeeeeee…

*****

BIO

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in romance and sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to speculative romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

Nothing in my Heart by Peri Elizabeth Scott

by | May 28, 2018 | | 0 Comments

Nothing in my HeartBlurb:

Feeling trapped into marriage, Beckett Kilmer doesn’t hide his disdain for his young wife, although he certainly wants her physically.

Grace didn’t deliberately trap the man she loves, but ignorance is no defense, neither in a court of law nor the law according to Beckett.

When she loses their baby, he is kind and supportive but remains distant. Grace despairs, also trapped—but by the skeins of love that bind her.

Mysteriously finding herself capable of resisting him, she plans to assert her independence when Beckett comes to his senses, recognizing his reprehensible behavior. He strives to make amends and convince Grace to reconsider.

Still determined to leave, she then finds out she is pregnant again and Beckett redoubles his efforts to repair their relationship. Can Grace find it within herself to forgive and trust him again?

*****

Excerpt:

Beckett’s big form blanketed her far smaller one as he increased his thrusts, driving her toward that cliff of mindless insensibility her orgasms always conferred. He braced his weight on his forearms, head tucked into her throat, lips tight against the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder.

He’d slipped into bed, naked and urgently erect, stripping off her nightgown with a muttered imprecation before bestowing a hard kiss that caused her to open to him, his mastery of her senses chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.

Her body instantly responded, the flush of arousal dampening her core, nipples tightening with desire as his big hands cupped and molded her breasts. There was no need for additional foreplay although he tested her readiness with a finger before settling between her thighs and entering her.

It was a vastly familiar, nightly routine, one she desperately anticipated—to her shame—and their coupling tonight should have culminated the same way. With a climax, the sensation giving her the connection she craved, however fleeting, because that was all Beckett would give her.

Buy Links:  

https://www.evernightpublishing.com/nothing-in-my-heart-by-peri-elizabeth-scott/

https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/nothing-in-my-heart

https://www.amazon.com//dp/B07D4KPLM8

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/nothing-in-my-heart-peri-elizabeth-scott/1128717845?ean=2940155258322

http://www.bookstrand.com/nothing-in-my-heart-mf

*****

About the Author:

Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She closed her part-time private practice as a social worker and child play therapist and now pretends to work well with her husband in their seasonal business.

Writing for years, along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has published over 52 novels and reads most everything she can lay her hands on.

http://www.perielizabethscott.com

https://www.facebook.com/Peri-Elizabeth-Scott-author-468074056571357/

Return to Me by LM Spangler (@authlmspangler)

by | May 25, 2018 | | 1 Comment

Return to MeBLURB:

Her secret tore them apart.

Naida Bouche foolishly thought she could live as if she was only human. Her true nature hung over her like a thunderhead, driving a wedge between her and her husband.

Cooper Martin had no idea why his ex-wife divorced him. He’d treated her like a goddess. And they had no problems in the intimacy department.

Fate brings them together again. Old emotions flare to life. Can Naida see beyond her self-perceived faults and allow the flames to reignite the love she and Coop feel for one another?

*****

EXCERPT:

Water cascaded off her nude body. Small rivulets ran over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach, disappearing into the surface of the lake.

She was one with the water.

She could, literally, become one with it.

Moonlight reflected off the mirror-smooth surface, adding a soft glow to the night.

Crickets serenaded her with their chirping song. The cicadas added their buzzing to the symphony. There were a lot of cicadas, hence the name of the lake. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.

She grinned and dove under. Liquid embraced her, still heated by the sun’s rays from earlier in the day. Her body became insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left her bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her, and the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.

The moon slid across the sky. Hours had passed. Her body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her human form, she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface in a rush of bubbles.

The night air chilled her damp skin, raising goose pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of hair from her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed the lake. Soon the leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. In would come the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease, and then winter would set in and freeze her out.

When that happened, she’d resort to the swimming pool located on the basement level of her large home. Even with the greenery she had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration of the lake, the feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the wilderness.
She repeated the cycle, year after year. The monotony had long since worn short on her nerves.

She had someone in her life, someone to break the monotony.

More accurately, she would only have him until the end of the day.

Tonight would be the last night they would be together. She’d tell him that they were over and done with. The sad part of the whole shitty deal was she couldn’t really give him a reason why.

How could he understand? Hell, she’d have trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.

The root of their problems were otherworldly, as her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.

The nymph side of her heritage presented two problems. First, she needed daily contact with water. The more the better. Like her pool in the basement. Second, she also needed sex … a lot. Preferably once or twice a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a nymph’s sex drive.

They had a lot of sex, but there were times when their hectic lives interfered with his libido. He was human and his sex drive was human.
She couldn’t guess how he’d react if she said, “I’m a nympho which means we have to have sex all the time. Day and night. Over and over and over.”

He wouldn’t understand it and she’d allowed it to build a wall between them.

No, he had never known the truth of her desires.

She had pushed him away, afraid of exposing her real self.

And that fear, that uncertainty, would leave her alone … and needy.

Buy Links:

Available at your favorite e-book retailer! https://www.books2read.com/ap/nlvm5x/LM-Spangler

*****

Author Bio:

LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.

She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.

Social Media:

Website- www.authorlmspanglerwrites.wordpress.com

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/authorlmspangler

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authlmspangler

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlmspangler/

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LMSpangler

A Thorned Rose in the Sand by Lea Bronsen (@LeaBronsen)

by | May 24, 2018 | | 1 Comment

Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog!

I got the idea for this story after watching a video of French “globe cooker” Fred Chesneau visiting nomads in the Moroccan desert. They generously shared their food, home, and wisdom with a stranger, and I thought it would be cool to write about a female rally driver having the same experience.

A Thorned Rose in the Sand is set in the beautiful, quiet dunes of western Sahara where the sun is so hot you can’t walk barefooted and you could go miles and miles without seeing a single soul. In this story, you’ll meet a badass 450cc rally motorcycle, an opiniated but gentle dromedary, and two highly strong-willed young persons from opposite sides of the planet who get off to a bad start then can’t keep their hands off each other 😊

*****

A Thorned RoseWhen life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a motorcycle rally across Morocco. But the real excitement is found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert.

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. He dreams of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty biker stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

Available from Evernight / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Barnes & Noble / Bookstrand / iTunes / Kobo / Smashwords

Add the book to your shelf on Goodreads

See photos that inspired me to write the book on Pinterest

*****

Excerpt

The girl screamed behind him. “Eeeeee!”

Too hard to resist. Until now, Ragab had had a difficult time respecting her privacy, but surely, a scream called for attention. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he didn’t check on a woman in distress?

He spun and found her kneeling on her jacket, nude and wet, arms outstretched in shock. He bit down a laugh. Yes, the deep well water was cold, but one got used to it, and in the extreme heat of the desert, it was a blessing.

She turned, caught him staring, and even though he couldn’t see anything inappropriate, she hurried to cover her breasts and pubic area. “Look away!” she shouted, voice panicky.

The laugh bubbled inside him, but he obediently turned back to the motorcycle—then stood in such a way he could see her reflection in one of the side mirrors.

Oh, it was like watching a porn scene. Her long, red curls hung wild over her back and round, white butt cheeks. Every time she moved, a portion of her breasts appeared in the space between her ribs and arms. Such perfect feminine curves, all over. Imagine if he saw the front…

Blood rushed to his groin. Stiffening, bothered, he tore from the sight, walked over to the well, and leaned against its waist-high wall, hoping the hardness of the bricks and coolness from the water below would temper his arousal before it became a full-blown erection.

So silent…

He strained to hear.

Splashes. Muffled squeals. More splashes.

He turned slowly and stole a glance from the corner of his eye.

She washed her panties and black top in the bucket and leaned forward to spread them in the sun. Her position exposed the dark pink lips of her sex, from the tiny hole in her butt to the end of her slit, where her clitoris hid.

Ooh!

Shocked to his core, he turned back and groaned low, his cock hardening again.

He closed his eyes, drew long, slow breaths to calm the painful throbbing and counted minutes, trying to think of something else.

His dromedary, for example. It would be cool to show her how to ride it. What if he rode another one, and they both galloped on the dunes together, she laughing, ecstatic…

Then they’d roll in the sand, and he would tease her thighs apart and slide his hungry hardness into her dark pink lips, to the wet bottom of her. Oh, yes.

She called, “Ready?”

He risked a glance in her direction.

Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean—she strolled to the motorcycle, carrying a bag and her clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tanks, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor.

Not once looking at him.

*****

About the author

Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.

Meet Lea Bronsen on Website / Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Goodreads / Amazon / Pinterest

Spotlight on Accidentally Again by Sydney Lea (@AuthorSydneyLea @romancerebels69) #downanddirty #getdirty

by | May 21, 2018 | | 0 Comments

Down and Dirty

Coming May 22!!

Published by: Romance Rebels Publishing

Cover Artist:  Sinfully Sweet Designs

BLURB:

Get in, get down…and get filthy with these sexy, hardworking, blue-collar heroes who don’t mind when things get a little dirty at work or at play.

This collection of 22 brand new stories from USA Today and International Best-Selling authors is full of scorching hot romance tales that will be sure to leave you breathless for more. These men work hard and play even harder.

From cops to mechanics, miners to brewmasters, they aren’t afraid to go all in. At the end of the day, when they find the woman who completes them, they learn love and life can be as messy as their day jobs…and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Featuring stories from: Lori King, Maia Dylan, Sarah Marsh, Elena Kincaid, Cecile Tellier, London Saint James, Bella Settarra, Rose Nickol, RL Merrill, Ashley Malkin, Lucy Felthouse, Scarlett J Rose, Sydney Lea, CR Moss, Samantha A. Cole, Danielle James, Ava Campbell, Eva Moore, Kimberlie L. Faye, Sabrina Sol, Nikki Prince, and Mia Hopkins

PREORDER LINKS:

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*****

Accidentally Again By Sydney Lea

BLURB:

She wanted to stay. He knew she needed to go.

Police officer Gabe Hannigan had always done the right thing and followed the rules. With the exception of one night with the girl he had always craved, Billie Shannon.

When Billie returns four years later to care for her sick father, she comes home with a secret she knew she couldn’t keep forever, leaving the pair with no choice but to come to terms with the consequences of their night together and the actions Gabe took to try and protect Billie’s future.

Can this lawman make things right with the woman he should never have let go? Will they overcome their past in order to fall in love accidentally again?​

*****

EXCERPT:

“I’m sorry.”

Billie tensed in my arms, pulling away enough to meet my eyes, her gaze unwavering as she read my face. Something inside me broke as I witnessed her withdraw and close in on herself. “Sorry?”

Shaking my head I tried to reach for her only to have her step further back. “Billie. I…”

“You what?” She clenched her teeth, anger building in her stormy blue eyes.

I sat up quickly, tugging on the sheet to keep myself covered in some ridiculous and far too late attempt to stay in control. “We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.”

As soon as the words left my mount I instantly regretted them. They sounded all wrong and not how I wanted to explain myself. I tried again. “I just mea—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snapped, cutting me off. I remained silent as I watched her consider her next words. Her body was tense and rigid even as she slid from the bed and reached for the nearest clothing. When she was dressed in pyjamas, she turned to me and wrapped her arms around herself as though placing a barrier between us. I couldn’t fault her for that. Honestly, I doubt I could have fucked up the situation more if I had been actively trying to come off as a selfish, uncaring dick. “I think you should leave.”

“Bi-”

“I said leave,” she ground out, glaring at me. “I didn’t ask for an excuse. I don’t want to hear another apology. I want you gone. It’s very simple, Deputy Hannigan.”

I winced at her formal address of me. She was putting up walls and while a large part of me knew I could break them before they fully formed, could try to fix this at least somewhat, another side realized this might be the perfect exit strategy. Cowardly sure, but effective. She needed to go, and she needed to have no hesitations in doing so.

Maybe it was more selfish to want to fix things and the best thing I could do for her was leave and not come back. I could be selfless, right?

Dressing quickly, I moved around her to leave and her flinch at my nearness was like a slap in the face. I forced myself to walk out of her bedroom and down the hallway, taking the final steps to the front door.

Opening it, I turned to her finding her already shaking her head. “Just go.”

I made it halfway done the path to the street where I had parked the patrol car, feeling her eyes on me the entire way before I broke. I had to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind, wouldn’t think there was a chance. I couldn’t be why she gave up her future. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am sorry. It was an accident, one that can’t happen again. You and me? We can never be something, we can never be what you want. You’ll be better off moving forward and never looking back.”

I glanced back to see her expression. Hurt warring with frustration. Not giving her a chance to respond a hastened my pace and slipped into the car, starting up the engine and pulling away from the curb even as I saw her move towards the vehicle.

“Fuck!” I shouted to myself, slamming my palm on the steering wheel. “I’m a selfish bastard.”

I should have just left. Selfish and a coward. Right then I knew, Billie would be better off without me.

*****

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sydney Lea is a married mother of two and an avid reader who enjoys falling in love with one book boyfriend after another. After years of dreaming up Mr Perfect, she has finally put pen to paper and created him herself. Whether your ideal man is a ​bad boy, law enforcement, shifter, vampire, cowboy or alien, she has something for everyone.

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