Out Now – The Psychology of Dreams 101 by K D Grace (@kd_grace)

by | Jan 16, 2017 | | 0 Comments

The Psychology of Dreams 101Blurb:

What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

Buy Links:

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

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2j3KOUv

iBooks: http://apple.co/2i5xBGu

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2iDA7r6

*****

Excerpt:

“Now then, let’s see if we can’t ease the pain in you lovely little bottom before we get on with the spanking, ” Dr. Clyde said before Leah could ask what he meant by his remark about them never getting out of the dream. He rummaged and rattled through the surprising abundance of the desk drawers until he came up with a tube of something she couldn’t see in her bent-over position, but as he unscrewed the lid, she immediately smelled peaches. There was the sound of something squirting, and then she felt the doctor’s large palm spreading cool lotion against her burning butt. She sighed and clenched at the pleasure of it. “There now. That feels better, doesn’t it hon? Just what the doctor ordered. We don’t want that lovely ass of yours too wounded just yet. Your punishment has hardly begun, after all.”

“Peach? Seriously?” Al said, coming closer to observe and sniffing as he did so.

“Yup! And it’s edible too,” Dr. Clyde said. “Taste. Not like that, Dear God, Al, put the tube down, and use your imagination. You’re in a dream for fuck sake! And you,” he turned his attention back to Leah, “you lie still. You’re being punished. You don’t get to see what’s happening. You have to trust the dream, trust that what happens next is all a part of the experience.”

“Enough of the psycho-babble, already, Derrick. We get it,” Al protested. There was a shuffling of male bodies behind her, and Leah felt a different set of hands, clearly Al’s hands. They were not quite as large as Dr. Clyde’s, but they were slightly calloused. She wondered how someone who taught courses on dream psychology got calloused hands. He gently cupped her hips, careful not to touch her wounded left ass-cheek. Then she felt the humid heat of his breath just before his warm wet tongue pressed against the place where her thigh met her left buttock.

“Oh God!” she managed, as the unexpected, but delightful, sinuous lap of his tongue up the rounded contour of her ass cheek moved inward, closer to the cleft that she knew would taste nothing at all like peaches. Meanwhile the doctor droned on that though at one point in our evolution, we liked the scents and odors of the body, at present that was less the case, and scented and flavored lubricants and lotions for sex often made the partners more comfortable with their personal smells.

“I like her smell,” came Al’s muffled reply. “It’s her I want to taste, not fucking peaches.”

“Wait a minute, you can smell me? I mean I’m sure you can smell me now, but … before?”

“I ha’ a ‘en’ative nothe,” came the slurped reply against her ass, and she decided right then and there that she was just fine with that.

“I fail to see how eating her out is going to help ease the pain at all,” Dr. Clyde observed as Al licked and slurped and nibbled ever closer to the ache at the center that had nothing to do with the spanking.

“It’s my dream.” Leah protested, wriggling and squirming to open her legs against the restraint of the panties around her knees. “If I want him to do … that, then surely he should do that.”

“It’s hardly a punishment though, is it?” the doctor said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest observing Al’s efforts from the edge of Leah’s peripheral vision.

“Who the fuck ca —  res?” she managed with a little gasp as Al fingered her open to make room for his very talented tongue.

She was just getting into it, just beginning to think that maybe Al’s tongue was prehensile when she heard a grunt and opened her eyes to discover the good doctor had moved closer, and he was now observing with his trousers open, his gaze locked on what Al was doing to her bottom and his fist locked around his heavy erection, which pointed accusingly at her ass as he shifted his hips to free his balls. Not that she wanted him to stop or anything, but she was just about to comment that she failed to see what his cock stroking had to do with her punishment when the sudden absence of a warm tongue from her nether region and the sound of a zipper opening told her that, in solidarity with his fellow male, Al had just freed Simba. She pressed her legs tightly together and wriggled just enough for the binding panties to drop to the floor. Then she kicked them aside and she was free too, opening her thighs anticipating more than Al’s tongue when the damn doctor called a halt to all activities.

“Now what?” Both she and Al growled at the same time.

“You’re not supposed to fuck her, Al. You’re supposed to spank her, punish her, make her repentant.”

“Oh I am,” she managed breathlessly. “I’m very repentant. I’ll never write down fake dreams again.”

Dr. Clyde ignored her. “Look, in the dreams, you’re both being punished. No one gets satisfaction until the punishment is complete.”

“Seriously?” Leah said, and Al cursed profusely. Under different circumstance to hear such foul language from the mouth of her mild-mannered instructor would have shocked her, but at the moment, she was inclined to agree with him completely.

“Well, I suppose I could have some satisfaction,” the doctor added with a little shrug of his broad shoulders, and the movement made his dick look like it shrugged too in its anxious agreement. “After all it’s not my dream and I’m not being punished.” Cock in hand, he insinuated himself between Al and Leah and with a quiver of anticipation, Leah wriggled against the table as he fingered her open.

“Wait a minute,” Al said. “This is Leah’s dream. What if she doesn’t want you to fuck her? What if she just wants to get on with it?”

“No, no! That’s all right. I’m good with it. I’m fine.” Leah just wanted someone to fuck her and soon! Since it was her dream, why not the good doctor? He was certainly ready.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t put your cock in her mouth if you want,” Dr. Clyde said to Al. “I suppose that could be considered punishment. It could certainly be considered humiliation in most BDSM circles, if done under the right circumstances, or so I’m told,” he added quickly.

“What if I put my cock up your ass instead,” Al said, shocking both Leah and Dr. Clyde as he yanked at the waistband of the man’s expensive trousers.

Before the doctor could protest, Leah added her own bit of profanity to the blue language hanging in the air. “It’s my dream, damn it! So just put your fucking cock in his fucking hole already! I don’t see how that can affect my punishment. And when you do, I want to see, so Doc, if you’ll just hand me the mirror.”

“Wait a minute, Al’s the Dom, not you.”

“Shut up, Doc!” both she and Al said at once.

“It’s my dream,” Leah repeated, “Besides,” she added quickly, “I’ve never seen a man fuck a man before.”

“Come to think of it, neither have I,” Dr. Clyde said. “Do you think you can angle the mirror so I can see too.”

*****

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. Find Grace’s novels here.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now—Two of Clubs by J.A. Armitage (@armitagebooks) #NA #newrelease #fantasy

by | Jan 13, 2017 | | 0 Comments

Blurb

Fifty-two weeks, four royal families, one war. Week one – January 1st – January 7th Rose (The Two of Clubs) is the youngest of all the Royals of Vanatus, and she has a lot to prove. Born a princess, but with the heart of a warrior, she struggles to keep her two lives separate. By day, a perfect princess, but in the dark of night, she slips out to practice being all she ever wanted to be, a warrior like her brothers. When a dragon kidnaps some children from the royal castle, she must act quickly, but the snap decision sets off a chain of events that lead to the first war in the history of Vanatus, spelling disaster for both her and her family. Follow the lives and loves of the fifty-two members of The Houses of Club, Heart, Diamond and Spade in real time as they struggle to maintain peace in the world of Vanatus. This is a New Adult fantasy series set over the course of one whole year. This particular book is the first in the series and is set over the first week from New Year’s Day to 7th January from the eyes of Rose Club. Each book in the series will be shown through the eyes of a different character, all within the world of Vanatus. Each book can be read as a standalone book (no cliffhangers), but the overall arc of the war will play in the background throughout. This is New Adult so there will be some swearing, mild violence, and sexual references.

Buy links

http://amzn.to/2e5gHKH

https://www.books2read.com/u/bOrJD9

Excerpt

The Hearts, Diamonds, and Spades were supposed to be kept to the nicer parts of the castle. No one was supposed to see the kitchens. Not that I suspected the sleeping Heart girl currently wrapped around my elder brother actually cared what the state of the kitchen was. Still, our father, the King, would be upset that someone from one of the other clans had seen that we weren’t the perfect royal family we proclaimed to be and that we did, in fact, have messy kitchens – very messy this morning. Who would get the blame for this? Not Tarragon, that’s for sure. Tarragon was only the Four of Clubs, but he was one of Father’s favourites. I, on the other hand, was the lowliest of all. As the Two of Clubs, I ranked only slightly higher than the mice that sometimes frequented the kitchen despite the hard work of Fluff, the palace cat.  And it was I who would get the blame for this.

I glanced at the Heart woman. Usually, you could tell a Heart from the clothes they wore, the most ridiculous ‘high fashion’ which usually consisted of a lot of lace, tulle, feathers and leather, but as I couldn’t see the rest of her, I guessed that she was completely naked under the heap of coats. She was unmistakably a Heart, though. Even with a lack of clothes, I could tell. Red hair fell in waves down the flawless porcelain skin on her naked back. She looked perfect and sensuous in every way, another rather annoying trait of The Hearts. They just didn’t have bad hair days!

“Oy,” I whispered to my wayward brother. The drill-like snoring turned into a grunt so I stuck a toe in his side.

“Wha…? Oh, it’s you!” He actually closed his eyes again, pretending to fall right back asleep. He was in for a shock if he thought I was going to leave him here.

“Will you get her out of here, please? I have to clean the kitchen to get it ready for the cooks.” I might have been the lowest member of the family, but I’d developed into someone my mother described as ‘a wilful child’ and my father called ‘a pain in the ass’. Tarragon knew he had no chance of being left alone with his new plaything.

“What time is it?” He opened his eyes again. His chin was damp with dribble, and he had streamers still weaved through his hair like a multicoloured wig. I couldn’t resist giving him an eye roll.

“It doesn’t matter what time it is. If father catches you with her, there will be hell to pay, and I don’t want to be involved. Why did you bring her down here anyway? She could be a spy.” Unlikely, as she’d actually been invited to the castle along with the rest of her family. And unless The Hearts had a secret desire to learn how much kitchen cleaner we used (not a lot it seemed), then the chances of her being sent down here to spy were slim. Still, Tarragon didn’t need to know that.

“Why do you think I brought her down here? Can you not see her? She’s gorgeous.”

I scowled. His complete disregard for the rules irritated me. It didn’t matter how beautiful the woman was, she was still a Heart and therefore completely untrustworthy. If her father caught them together, well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

“She’s a Heart!” I stated the obvious, knowing that Tarragon was fully aware that she was a Heart, and that was more than likely the reason he’d bedded her in the first place.

“Isn’t this whole party thing to get the clans together so we can cooperate and live in a peaceful land? This is why we all come together at this time of year.” He gave that leisurely grin that women of all races seemed to fall for. It wasn’t going to work on me, though. I was mad!

“Yes, but I don’t think that you are supposed to come together quite so literally!”

“Or quite so many times,” grinned Tarragon.

Author Bio

Born in a small town, J.Armitage longed for adventure and travel.
Age 20 she moved to Dublin, then to San Diego, then Sydney and back to California where she did a brief stint working at Universal Studios being a minder to Sponge Bob.

Once back in Britain she got married, had babies and decided to write about the adventure she was now missing out on. She works full time, is a mum to three kids and has had a surrogate baby.

She has skydived twice (and survived), climbed Kilimanjaro and hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. She has also worked as a professional clown and banana picker amongst other jobs.

Somehow she finds time to write.

Reviews for J.A.Armitage’s work.
Endless Winter is a unique story that takes place in a beautiful world. J.A. Armitage’s writing is lyrical and almost poetic. Janelle Fila for Readers’ Favorite

I devoured this book like a rich box of chocolates. Sara C Roethle

If you’d like to get my books for free, sign up to my mailing list here http://www.subscribepage.com/v7o8k4

 

Social Media Links

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

Twitter: @armitagebooks

Mailing list: http://www.subscribepage.com/v7o8k4

ARC readers: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1611969385769159

 

The idea behind Two of Clubs

There are fifty two weeks in the year and the same number of cards in a deck. I thought it would be crazy to write one book for every week of the year. Each one is a different character, named after a playing card, living in the same world and through the same war that plagues the fictional world of Vanatus. Each chapter is a day. Eventually, I hope to have 52 books released comprising of 365 chapters so you can read a chapter a day for the whole year 🙂

I don’t think anything like this has ever been done before. If 52 books sounds daunting, each book is a separate story and has an ending. They are standalones, if you will, but with the arc of the war playing in the background throughout.

I hope you enjoy 🙂

Here are the links to Two of Clubs, plus some of the following books which are available on pre-order

Two of Clubs: http://amzn.to/2e5gHKH

Three of Clubs: http://amzn.to/2ejXAJx

Four of Clubs: http://amzn.to/2ejVrSt

Five of Clubs: http://amzn.to/2f4z5D7

The Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set (Books 1-5) by Maggie Marr

by | Jan 12, 2017 | | 0 Comments

Blurb Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set Books 1-5:

For a *LIMITED* time Get five Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires for one ultra low price! Meet Cole, Tristan, Nick, Ryan, and Trevor. Jet set from South America, to L.A. from the exotic resort of Mesquale to France, with a media mogul, corporate raider, real estate tycoon, resort owner, and restaurant heir. Each Bad Boy Billionaire is shockingly sexy both in and out of the bedroom. Enjoy all five of the Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires!

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/eligible1to5

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eligible-billionaires-box/id1167094956?mt=11

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-1-5-maggie-marr/1124918311?ean=2940156874484

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/eligible-billionaires-box-set-books-1-5

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Maggie_Marr_Eligible_Billionaires_Box_Set_Books_1?id=ssZJDQAAQBAJ&hl=en

*****

Excerpt from Can’t Buy Me Love (Eligible Billionaires Book One)

“Is it always this hard?”

For Cole Jackson only one response answered Meg’s question: Yes. Every conquest was the outcome of a hard-fought battle, every win the results of a decimated other side, every challenge more difficult than the last. Otherwise, what was the point? With ease came softness and with softness a swift defeat.

Cole yanked at the knot of his cobalt blue tie, tired of the daylong stranglehold. On the far side of his office window, night sucked away the last light of day as the sweltering orange sun surrendered to the Pacific. The streaks of pink, orange, and fuchsia that decorated the sky failed to captivate Cole. He could witness such displays of color on any horizon, in any city, on any night—so why waste time with this sunset?

Cole reached for the crystal decanter stationed on the bar in his office. His pour was generous and neat. Amber liquid shimmered in the final rays of the sun. He sipped the bourbon. Heat slid down his throat, but the liquor didn’t scorch him nearly as much as the woman who, after a six-month absence, now stood in his office.

“There are cell phone towers up and down the entire California coastline and the one spot in Los Angeles where I can’t get a signal is your office?”

Meg Parson’s voice was brighter and lighter than the curves of her body would suggest. She shifted her weight and her hip teased forward against her suit skirt. The outline of bone against taut fabric taunted Cole with hints of lace panties. In a careless moment his gaze roamed over her legs, caressed her skirt, and brushed over the outline of her breasts.

Hunger for Meg clutched his belly and twisted hard. Cole turned toward the ocean and the unwatched sunset—away from Meg. Better to feign interest in the blossom of color on the horizon than to indulge his desires to stare at his colleague and former assistant.

“Hello? Hello?” Meg said into the phone.

In the window, Cole caught Meg’s reflection as she flipped her long sable-colored hair over her right shoulder. She tightened her jaw and closed her eyes.

His stomach clenched as Meg’s tongue caressed her pout of a mouth. Cole took another slug of his drink, hopeful that the liquid heat burning down his throat would distract him from his desires.

No. Luck.

He set his jaw in opposition to his craving and pulled his gaze away from Meg’s indelible imprint on the glass. He didn’t need the reflection; her every sinew was seared into his mind but Meg was off-limits.

In the three years she’d worked for him, Meg made herself indispensable, and he had been fool enough to let her become a necessity. She knew everything about him—from the way he took his coffee down to his shoe size. She ran his business affairs seamlessly. He leaned on her. Depended on her. Cole even began to need her and needing anyone was intolerable. To need a person was to appear weak. Need allowed vulnerability to take root. Need was the end of strength. No, to need Meg was completely unacceptable.

“Yes, hi. This is Meg Parson. I have Cole Jackson for Stan Morton,” Meg said.

With the sound of his name on her lips he faced her. This was a business deal, nothing more.

“Of course I’ll hold.” Meg covered the mouthpiece and her blue eyes sparkled with the thrill of the deal. “Why didn’t we use your landline?”

Cole’s heart quickened as Meg’s excitement spilled over to him. Cole sipped his drink and watched Meg over the top of his glass. This time, her proximity, and not the bourbon, seared through him.

“They’re getting Stan,” Meg whispered, still covering the mouthpiece.

Stan Morton owned one of the two things Cole wanted most in the world: TBC Studios.

And the other thing?

Cole’s eyes traced the porcelain curve of Meg’s neck as she twirled a piece of hair between her thumb and pointer finger. Well, the other thing wasn’t for sale, nor was it negotiable. Office dalliances weren’t Cole’s style and neither was a long-term commitment. Meg was the type of woman who required he break both rules, and Cole preferred his relationships exactly as they’d been for the past decade: hot, fast, and disposable.

This deal was Meg’s baby, and once it was consummated Cole would have to promote Meg. If he waited any longer another company would swoop in and grab her. One of his competitors might already be trying.

“How will you celebrate?” Cole rarely asked Meg anything so personal. A dusty pink flush crept over Meg’s ivory-colored cheeks.

Protectiveness surged through Cole.

“I’m thinking Bali.” A smile started in Meg’s eyes and quickly encompassed her whole face as she thought about a luxurious and well-deserved beach vacation.

“Nice choice.”

“And you?”

*****

Author Bio:

Maggie Marr is the author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She writes smart, sexy, women and the men they love. She got her start in Hollywood pushing the mail cart at ICM, but quickly rose through the ranks to become a motion picture literary agent. As well as writing, she maintains a boutique legal practice dedicated to the needs of creatives & entrepreneurs. She is the current President of Los Angeles Romance Authors (LARA) and legal adviser to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA). Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn’t taking care of her clients or writing she can be found reading, chasing kids, or exercising her rescue pup

Social Media:

Website:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/

Newsletter:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/about/newsletter

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/maggiemarrbooks

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/maggiemarr

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30741954-a-forbidden-love

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

They must both learn to trust again in order to save her ranch and her life. @TeriLRiggs #westernromance #ColtraneCorners #OldWestRomance

by | Jan 10, 2017 | | 0 Comments

Coltrane CornersBlurb:

Elizabeth Coltrane has given up on finding a man who will love her in spite of the physical and emotional scars she carries thanks to a mountain lion attack. When her father is murdered, she inherits Coltrane Corners. The only man she can trust to save her cattle ranch is the foreman she just fired…and the man she’s loved since she was a child. But can Elizabeth keep her desire for Chase under control and her heart safe as they work side by side every day?

Chase Cameron is determined the bad blood of his abusive pa will end with him and vows to never marry. When Elizabeth needs his help getting her cattle to market, Chase has to decide if he can do the job while fighting the strong attraction he has to her.

When accidents begin to happen, threatening Elizabeth’s life, Chase discovers he is willing do whatever takes to keep her safe. They must both learn to trust again in order to save her ranch and her life.

Available from Amazon: http://mybook.to/coltranecorners

*****

Excerpt:

Chase stepped past her and stood next to the buggy. “Everett sent me to fetch you home. Now if you’d be so kind as to step aside, Miss Elizabeth, I’d be happy to load your trunk in the back of the buggy.”

Although she deserved his sarcasm, she cringed at the way he said ‘Miss Elizabeth.’ “I’d rather stick a cactus needle in my left eye than ride anywhere with you.”

“I think that can be arranged, but I imagine a poke in the eyeball would hurt like the dickens.”

“I’ve been gone six years, and you haven’t changed a bit, have you? Everything’s a big joke. You’re more infuriating than ever.” What was wrong with her? She couldn’t keep the hateful words from tumbling out. “I’d hoped you might have learned a few manners and social graces. But here you are, still a simple cowpoke.”

“What can I say? Once a donkey’s behind, always a donkey’s behind.” He threw her words back at her. “You know how things go when you spend your days chasin’ after cattle and ridin’ fences. A man can’t be expected to learn much in the way of social graces when he’s out mucking through pastures full of cow patties and horse dung.”

She’d finally pushed him too far, gotten a reaction from him that wasn’t served up with a smile. Elizabeth saw the hurt in his eyes, heard the anger in his voice. Her face heated with guilt.

“I may have been overly crude when I called you simple and a donkey’s behi… Well, you know what I said.” She let her eyes drift down. She shouldn’t have spoken in anger. The insults weren’t very ladylike, but considering the way he’d treated her in the past, she’d truly thought he deserved the words…until she saw the hurt in his gaze.

“I accept your apology—such as it is.”

Her head jerked up. “I wasn’t offering you an apology.”

“No kidding.” His voice was low. “I’ve tried to ignore your bad behavior since this is your first day back, but damnation, Elizabeth, when did you turn into such an uppity snob?”

“Pardon me?” She tilted her head to one side. “I’m not a snob.” Well, maybe she did sound a little snooty, but he was the one to blame for that. He brought out the worst in her. “I don’t—”

He cut her off. “Never mind.”

Her eyes followed Chase as he sauntered back to the stagecoach in that don’t-rush-me cowboy way that always looked so darn good on him. Oh yes, years of hard work had definitely added plenty of muscle and strength to his broad shoulders. He picked up her heavy trunk as if it weighed less than a barn cat and carried the chest on one shoulder to the carriage without even breaking a sweat. He made quick work of securing the trunk, then he was back at her side, standing a bit too close for her liking.

“You gonna let me escort you home or are you planning on walking?” He glanced down at her feet and shook his head. He looked up, tipped his hat back, and scratched his forehead. “I can tell you right now, the fancy city boots you’re wearin’ aren’t gonna carry you very far.”

Elizabeth weighed her options and wondered how she’d managed to back herself into a corner so quickly. Of course she wasn’t going to walk all the way to the ranch, but she sure as heck wasn’t about to admit that to Chase. She couldn’t very well rent a horse from the livery—she wasn’t dressed suitably for riding. Maybe she’d hire a carriage instead.

“Damnation, Elizabeth. Either you’re comin’ or you’re not.”

“I’m still thinking. There’s no need to raise your voice at me.”

“If you’re gonna be noodling on your decision much longer, I’m gonna march my boots over to Burt’s Saloon and have a drink.”

“What a good idea. You go have your drink, and I’ll noodle on the subject a while longer. I’ll give you my answer when you return.”

He was grumbling under his breath as he walked away. She heard him anyway. “Well, if this don’t beat all. Damn fickle woman.”

Fickle? She’d show him fickle. “Oh, Chase, before you go, would you be kind enough to give me a lift up? I’d just as soon sit while I noodle.”

He stomped back in her direction, kicking up small clouds of dust.

She liked—perhaps a little too much—the warm, confident feel of his large hands wrapped around her waist as he gave her a boost up.

“Ten minutes, Miss Elizabeth. Then I’m comin’ back and you’d best have an answer for me.”

Elizabeth busily tucked her skirt’s mountain of material into the carriage.

“I promise. You’ll have your answer when you return.”

For the first time since she’d stepped from the stagecoach, she graced him with a smile.

***

Chase swung open the saloon doors, still riding high on the smile Elizabeth had offered. A smile more brilliant than a Texas sunrise and more embracing than a Texas sunset, he marveled. Instead of the braids she’d worn as a child, her blonde hair was now pulled back in a tight chignon. Several whisper-thin tendrils had escaped, caressing the smooth looking skin of her face. His fingers itched to tuck the flyaway wisps of hair back behind her ears. Better yet, he wanted to toss the stupid hat, free the hair from its tight bun, and run his hands through the loose curls.

Elizabeth confused him. He was drawn to her, yet she’d been nothing but pure mean since she’d stepped off the stage. But damned if a certain one of his body parts wasn’t about to embarrass him in the middle of Burt’s.

What was he thinking? Elizabeth was off-limits. She was right. He was nothing but a simple cowpoke. She deserved better. Hell, for all he knew, he’d turn out like his pa a few years down the road. And what would her father think? Everett was not only Chase’s boss and mentor, he’d become his closest friend over the years. He’d definitely want more than a simple cowpoke with bad blood in him for his daughter. Maybe when Chase’s ranch became successful, he’d finally feel respectable. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Nope. Wasn’t gonna happen. Even when the ranch began producing, his past would haunt him. He’d stick to his plan, one which didn’t include Elizabeth, or any other woman. Now all he had to do was convince his unruly body part of the fact.

He ambled to the bar, ready for a drink, and hoping to put all thoughts of Elizabeth out of his mind. The piano wasn’t playing. Then again, it seldom was until evening when things livened up in town. This time of day, the only noise came from the loud voices and laughter at the table where a group of men were playing a rowdy hand of poker. The place smelled of stale tobacco and cheap perfume. Only two of Burt’s saloon hall girls were strutting their assets around. They were dressed in colorful, flesh-baring costumes and cheap boas. Chase thought of Elizabeth’s feathered hat and smiled. She’d probably paid a fortune for the damned thing. He saddled up to the bar, with a grin still plastered across his face.

Burt brought him his usual shot glass full of whiskey and set it down in front of him with a loud thwack, then did a double take.

“Damn, Chase. What’re you all gussied up for and smiling like an idiot about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy old geezer. Been dippin’ in the barrels a little too much today?”

“I don’t drink this piss-water. I just sell the stuff to fools like you.” Burt leaned in and sniffed. “So come on and tell me, what’s the pretty smell? You’re wearing cologne, ain’t you? Kinda reminds me of cloves.”

“It’s called bay rum and it’s none of your business how I smell.”

“You’re all shaved, bathed, and wearing clean duds.” Burt stared at him for a moment. “Hell in a handbasket, you done gone and dusted off your Stetson. Something’s up.”

“Well, if you gotta know, I’m escorting the boss’s daughter home to Coltrane Corners. I thought maybe, since she’s been living back East for the last six years, she might not be appreciative of ridin’ alongside a dust-covered, unshaven, cattle-smelling ranch hand.” Simple cowpoke my ass. “Now if you’re done mindin’ my business, I’d like to enjoy my whiskey in peace and quiet, and then be on my way.”

The nosey barkeeper leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “Can I ask you one more quick question?”

“If it’ll buy me a moment of alone time? Sure, ask away.”

Burt stood straight, lifted a glass, and wiped at the rim with a cloth. “Are you picking up Miss Coltrane in the Coltrane carriage?”

“Of course I am. You don’t think I’m gonna toss her over my horse’s back and ride away into the sunset with her, do you?” Chase scrutinized Burt’s face and narrowed his eyes. “Why’re you asking?”

“’Cause if my eyesight ain’t failed me, I believe the Coltrane Corners’ rig took off about the same time you was a-walkin’ through the saloon’s doors smiling like a ninny. And you, my friend, weren’t riding in it.”

*****

Author bio:

As a child, Teri made up her own bedtime stories. When her children came along, Teri always tweaked the fairy tales she told her daughters, giving them a bit more punch and better endings when needed.

Now she spends her days turning her ideas into books. She lives in Marietta, GA with her husband.

Amazon
Decadent
B&N
Kobo
Audible
iTunes
Goodreads
Twitter
Pinterest
Website

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now—A Harmless Little Plan (The Harmless Series Book 3) by Meli Raine (@meliraineauthor)

by | Jan 9, 2017 | | 0 Comments

 

Description:

Turns out there was a second video from that awful night four years ago. Mine wasn’t the only tape.

Too bad mine wasn’t the worst.

Drew can’t protect me no matter how hard he tries, but the roles are flipped now. I have to help him, but I’m not wired that way. Not anymore. That one night changed me more than anyone knows.

More than anyone could predict.

Three men think they’re above the law. They’re right.

But I’m willing to go beneath the law to make sure they never harm anyone else. Their threats don’t scare me.

When you have nothing left to lose because someone took it all away, you create the most dangerous creature imaginable.

Me.

Game over.

* * *

A Harmless Little Plan is the final in this political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine. This series includes:

A Harmless Little Game

A Harmless Little Ruse

 

Buy links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fwWLxE
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2fyBsKD
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2fUQWN8
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2faFJag
B& N: http://bit.ly/2faAWW7
iBooks: http://apple.co/2fauvTb
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2fyAnCq
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2fyAIoV

 

Author Bio:

Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.

Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://meliraine.com/

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/beV0gf

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

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/meliraineauthor

*****

Excerpt:

They have to feed me.

Right?

Unless they plan to kill me in the next couple of hours.

If they’re not feeding me, is that a sign? Or are they just assholes who don’t care about feeding me? My stomach gurgles. Then it makes an epic sound, like wet boulders being dragged through mud with air pockets.

Muffled voices provide a strange background sound. None of their words is distinct, but the accumulation of them stacks up to create a ribbon of sound. Whatever they’re planning for me, they’re not tipping their hands.

I’m left without a voice, without a way to get out, and without Drew.

Time keeps changing. I’m on the bed again, but sitting up against the headboard, my hands in front of me in a zip tie. It’s better than having them behind me. Hurts less.

That’s how I measure time now. Through pain. Less pain = easier to pass time.

Time slows when the pain increases.

I can’t think forward, either. If I anticipate time, think about the future, the pain increases, too.

Mental pain.

Mental pain that will soon convert to physical pain.

What are they going to do to me?

As I move, my hair tickles my neck. Because I’m living with my skin on fire, every nerve quick and ready to react, even a gentle touch like strands of hair against my skin feels horrible. My mind keeps playing through memories of the video I’ve seen of what they did to me.

My gut tightens. I’m close to throwing up.

If they’re going to torture me and kill me, I wish they’d just do it.

But then again, if I draw this out long enough, Drew may have enough time to find me and save me.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now – The Billionaire Shifter’s Second Chance (Billionaire Shifters #3) by Diana Seere

by | Jan 6, 2017 | | 0 Comments

Description:

A wildland firefighter — and mountain lion shifter — Edward is the youngest of the Stanton siblings, and hasn’t touched a woman in a decade, not since his late fiancée was killed in a violent tragedy.

But when he meets the sweet, adorable Molly Sloan, a friend of his new sister-in-law, Lilah… his determination to remain celibate begins to unravel.

Something about Molly is irresistible. Something about her makes him forget the past… and hear the Beat. But Edward will have to fight for her — forces are gathering to use her in ways that might separate them forever.

The Billionaire Shifter’s Second Chance is the third book in the Billionaire Shifters Club series by Diana Seere, the paranormal pen name for two New York Times and USA Today bestselling romantic comedy authors. This book is a standalone *within* a series.

* * *

Welcome to the most exclusive club in the world. The Novo Club. Novo is Latin for “change.” Our members prefer the word “shift” though.

It’s the hottest club in town.

The price of membership is your heart and your secrecy.

All you need to do to join is to be loved beyond your wildest imagination by someone powerful with an…alpha side so primal it’s in their blood.

Are you ready?

Good. Then let’s begin.

The Billionaire Shifters Club is a new series featuring the five Stanton siblings, four brothers and one sister who are all part of an ancient shifter family living in modern America. The subterranean club-within-a-club beneath the streets of Boston, Massachusetts holds secrets only the Stantons and their fellow shifters know.

Amazon US: http://smarturl.it/tbsscamzus

Amazon UK: http://smarturl.it/tbsscamzuk

Amazon Canada: http://smarturl.it/tbsscamzca

Amazon Australia: http://smarturl.it/tbsscamzau

iBooks: http://smarturl.it/tbsscibooks

Nook/BN: http://smarturl.it/tbsscnook

Kobo: http://smarturl.it/tbssckobo

Google Play: http://smarturl.it/tbsscgp

 

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. You can find “her” on Facebook at Diana Seere’s Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/dianaseere.  Sign up for her New Releases and Sales email newsletter here: eepurl.com/beUZnr

 

Excerpt:

“Why are you so twitchy?” Sophia asked.

The art exhibit for their brother’s paintings was quite lovely, but Edward Stanton was beginning to deeply regret being a supportive sibling. Leaving his home in Montana, where the air smelled like freedom and people didn’t glare – because there were so few actual people – and coming to this festering hellhole called Boston gave him good reason to twitch.

His sister’s words made him groan inwardly, though. If he told her the truth, she would belittle him. If he lied, she would smell it on him.

Of course she would. She was a bear shifter, with a nose most vintners would kill to possess. Sophia could smell emotions. She could sniff out subterfuge and intrigue, sex and anger. He was certain she could smell lottery ticket winners, if she tried.

Not that a billionaire heiress would need such a skill.

Edward steeled himself, wishing he could hide scent the way he had trained himself to hide emotion. Even shifters had limits, sadly.

“I’m tired. The jet seats weren’t comfortable,” he lied. A powerful hum from some sort of heating and cooling system kicked in, making his back teeth rattle. How much longer must he stay to be polite? The city was full of too many unexpected vibrations and jolts, sounds like jeers and mockery. His head began to throb, a steady beat taking over.

Sophia rolled her eyes and took a small pastry from a tray as a server passed by, stuffing it in her mouth. “You are the worst liar ever. Didn’t you learn a thing from Derry? You would never guess you’re brothers.”

Half brothers, he thought. Of the five Stanton children, Edward was the only one without a full sibling. He was also the only mountain lion shifter. He needed to roam. Desired space.

Craved land.

Downtown Boston, at an art gallery packed into a gentrified district where people lived in apartments the size of thumbnails, was the absolute opposite of what he wanted right now.

But they were here to support Derry in his art, and by God, he would fake his way through this.

Even if Derry just ditched them to reunite with his human mate, the limo speeding them off to Derry’s loft, leaving his cheerleading squad stuck in this gallery, eating overcooked rumaki and pretending to enjoy the other exhibits.

“I know you hate the city,” Sophia said, her voice dropping into a compassionate whisper. “But that was years ago, a random tragedy. We can help you. It’s sweet of you to come here for Derry.”

Edward’s body went cold. He didn’t want to talk about the past. And he certainly did not want to talk about the last time he was in Boston.

“Super sweet!” Molly, his sister-in-law’s friend, approached him and Sophia, her bright blue eyes overly friendly, cheeks flushed with excitement or wine. Or both.

His body responded to her presence, skin heating up, muscles expanding as blood pumped with a ferocious, almost-unfair speed designed to make him ready for…

For something he’d given up a decade ago.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Important info: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. This applies to any Amazon links you click from this site.

Blog Tours