The Woodsman (Lust in the Woods #1) by Alexa Sinclaire (@AlexaSinclaire)

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Blurb

SAM
That long blonde hair, sexy hippy-style and a laugh that makes me want to fall to my knees and worship her body– Katy Williams is slowly driving me crazy. I moved out to the woods to get away from everything, including women with ulterior motives. But now she’s living next door to me, inviting me for dinner and giving me blueberry muffins. And she’s all I can think about. But can I trust that behind that smile there isn’t a woman just waiting to get her claws into me? After all, I’ve been fooled once….

KATY
I’m done with men. Well, at least done with men who happily take my money and my heart and suck me dry. Sam Hess, with his man-bun and wild woodsman look, is a whole other matter. I can’t stay away from him, no matter how much I try and when he needs me, there’s no way I won’t stand by his side. But what happens when he doesn’t need me anymore? I don’t think I can survive having my heart broken again. And they always stop needing you, don’t they?

Purchase Links

Evernight PublishingAll Romance eBooksBookstrand | Amazon.comAmazon.co.ukAmazon.ca

*****

The WoodsmanExcerpt

Handing her the drink, I sat down next to her and threw back the vodka in one go. She did the same and put her drink on the wooden coffee table. Leaning back, she exhaled slowly.

“That’s better.”

I should have gotten up then. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to make sure she was all right. I wanted to sit here next to her, feel the heat from her thigh so close to mine. If I moved just an inch, I’d be touching her. I wanted to undo her braids and see how that light hair fell around her breasts. I wanted her to say my name again, like she had before.

I pictured her all breathless and panting. But this time it wouldn’t be from fear. It would be from heat. My fingers twitched with the urge to plunge them into that hair and make her beg for my mouth.

I startled as I felt her sit up and lean close to me as she ran her fingers through my hair.

“I thought it would be longer.”

I’d taken my hair out of the bun when I got home. And thank fuck I had because now she was touching me. The woman was touching me and I couldn’t take it. Turning to face her, I wrapped a hand around the back of her neck to hold her in place and pressed my mouth against hers.

The softness of her lips with a hint of strawberries that didn’t seem like strawberries at all and more like sex and something else hit me. The desire to find out what else she tasted like elsewhere fueled my lust and channeled straight to my cock. Without giving her a chance to even respond, I licked her lips and delved in as she opened her mouth, just a small gap, but enough for me to slip my tongue into. And we groaned in unison.

Leaning against her more, I lowered her to the couch. Propped on one elbow, I grabbed her breast with my free hand. Warm and heavy against my palm, the hint of soft flesh I could suck and nibble spurred me on. Her nipple hardened and she let out a gasp when I released her mouth.

But only for a second.

I couldn’t stop.

The taste of her, the wet heat of her tongue against mine, drove me crazy. As cliché as it felt to admit, even to myself, Katy was provoking a need in a me I’d never felt with any other woman.

I was never going to stop.

One of her hands remained grabbing my hair. She rested the other on my shoulder. I shifted our bodies and pushed between her thighs, grinding against her core. Her body. Her heat. Soft noises escaped her mouth as I touched her.

It all felt so damn good.

I moved my mouth to the side of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, the vanilla shampoo she used tickling my nose. I was about to move lower when she whispered my name.

“Sam.”

It was barely a whisper, a breath, a hint of my name. But it was there. And I couldn’t ignore it.

I sat up and looked at what I’d done to her.

Jesus, I’d mauled her.

Her mouth was swollen and red from my rough kiss, her shirt disheveled where I’d manhandled her tit. Her thighs were spread, evidence of the dry-humping I’d fully intended to turn legitimate had she not said my name. I wanted her to look like a woman who needed me, full of a burning lust she needed me to fuck out of her.

Instead, she looked traumatized.

“Lock your door when I leave.” I stood and turned and stomped out, slamming the door behind me.

*****

About Alexa Sinclaire

Alexa Sinclaire writes erotic romance: the hotter the better. Originally from the East Coast, she now lives in England with her very own Alpha male British husband.

Social Media & Contact

Email: alexasinclairewrites@gmail.com

Website: http://www.alexasinclaireauthor.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlexaSinclaire

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

Tumblr: http://alexasinclaire.tumblr.com/

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Prude (Labeled #1) by Jordan S Gray (@JordanStephanie)

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Blurb:

Rebecca Washington is a girl in control. Well, at least when it comes to acing her college classes. The rest of the time, she seems to be at the mercy of everyone else. Like when she’s dumped in front of her peers, hit on right afterwards by a jerk for some stupid bet, and then paired up with the jerk for a lit project.

In order to maintain her perfect GPA, Rebecca will need to give a stellar presentation while ignoring the prying eyes that will be staring at her. When her partner, Derek, starts to ease her fears of public speaking with his laidback attitude, she’s forced to confront her new feelings about him and his charming smile. Rebecca knows falling for a guy who teases her for being a prudish nerd can only end badly, but what if it’s just another thing out of her control?

Purchase links:
All Romance eBooks | Amazon USAmazon CAAmazon UKAmazon AUBookstrandEvernight Publishing

*****

Excerpt:

PrudeDerek grinned. “What do you think about your ex’s girlfriend?”

“Obviously that she’s annoyingly beautiful and, apparently, fun.” The word left a bad taste in her mouth.

“I could say the same about you right now.”

Rebecca felt her face redden even more. She pushed her bangs behind her ear, trying to find something else to stare at other than Derek’s mischievous eyes. Nothing seemed worthy.

“I know we’ve been doing well with the whole friends’ thing,” Derek started.

Rebecca cocked an eyebrow. “What now? Are you going to make fun of me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I was just wondering if, as a friend, I’m allowed to ask you to dance.”

She let out a choking laugh. “Here? We’re at a party.”

He gestured to the several groups of people who were dancing. “People dance at parties.”

“I don’t think we should.”

“Because you don’t want to, or because you don’t want to draw attention to yourself?”

“Maybe the latter,” Rebecca mumbled to the ground.

Derek took her hand, pulling her to the center of the living room. At first, their position terrified Rebecca, until she realized it was the most popular dancing spot. In the crowd, she felt shielded from prying eyes, like it was just the two of them.

There’d been times, when Rebecca was home alone and listening to music, where she’d danced. But she had never done so in a public setting or with someone else, and in heels too. She bit her lip nervously as Derek guided her hands around his neck.

“Relax,” he muttered. “It’s just a dance.”

His statement didn’t reassure her at all. Her heart beat faster as she realized that she could feel every inch of him. They were so close. Her head was practically resting on his shoulder, and her body was pressed firmly against his.

The feel of his hands on her waist made her shiver, her crop top inching up slightly as they began to move. Rebecca tried to focus on the beat, but it was really no use. Her fingers clasped together as she mentally reminded herself that playing with Derek’s hair was not a friendly thing to do—even if it looked really soft.

They swayed together, his hands staying rigidly in place. Rebecca wondered what he was thinking about and why he’d decided to dance with her, but it was no use. Derek was likely someone she’d never fully understand.

The song switched to something with a faster pace and erratic rhythm, but Rebecca hardly noticed. Derek moved a hand away from her hip, leaving Rebecca feeling a little colder, until he used it to brush a piece of her fallen bangs behind her ear.

She had no idea how her legs and hips were still moving because, on the inside, Rebecca was totally, completely still. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his breath on her neck. Every single one of her nerves were on fire, zapping around in her body like lightening. Rebecca had never felt more alive … or scared.

One of her hands drifted down to Derek’s chest, and she pressed against it. She hoped that he’d know she was trying to get away, but he only pulled her closer to him. Rebecca let out a gasp, clutching his neck and shoulder tightly.

“Are you having fun?” he asked softly.

Rebecca nodded once, unable to muster up anything coherent. Her brain was shutting down, and she wished it was from embarrassment or anger. No, this was something entirely different. So often Rebecca felt like two-halves of her were always in disagreement, but now, every part of her felt the same. She didn’t want him to let go.

*****

About The Author:

Jordan S Gray is a full time mother, college student, and writer. She never did quite grow out of that emo stage, and considers coffee, punk music, and Taylor Swift to be the necessary fuel for her writing. PRUDE is her debut novel, and you can find her on Twitter @JordanStephanie where she procrastinates most of her adult responsibilities and all of her schoolwork.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jordanstephaniegray
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JordanStephanie
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32035169-prude

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Irrefutable (Tortured Love #2) by Ravenna Tate (@ravennatate)

***Click HERE to purchase directly from Evernight Publishing***

IrrefutableBLURB

Ex-con Carolyn Lucchesi receives a shock nastier than another prison sentence when she discovers she inadvertently lied to the police. Uncle Tony had sworn to her the man in the photo taken from the video footage of a robbery at an art museum was none other than infamous ex-con and jewel thief Jagger Tyrell. But when Jagger confronts her in the park, he tells a different story. One that, if true, means her uncle lied to her and set her up for a parole violation.

Jagger has spent nine years avoiding his former associates, and anything to do with prison or the police. When Carolyn’s lie thrusts him back into the spotlight, he uses everything at his disposal, including Carolyn’s body, to find out who is trying to frame him for a crime he did not commit, and why. But falling in love with Carolyn is not in the plans…

*****

EXCERPT

They stared into each other’s eyes before he kissed her again, probing her lips with his tongue until she parted them. She moaned softly into his open mouth, but when her hands pushed against his chest, she broke the kiss again and shoved him away from her.

“Carolyn, what the hell?”

“Oh, right. Just because you kiss me, I’m supposed to fuck you?”

“You’re so full of shit. You want this as much as I do.” Jagger grasped her hair again and kissed her once more, sliding his tongue in and out. Her moans intensified, spurring him on.

Kissing her was everything he’d imagined it would be, plus more. She tasted like wine and the avocado dressing from the Grand Lux Café, which was just fine with him. His dick was so fucking hard now it was painful. He ground it against her abdomen, but her damn hands came up again, pushing him away one more time.

“Oh, this is bullshit.” He forced her head up again. “Look me right in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to fuck me.”

“We can’t do this.”

“Carolyn, do you want to do it? Yes or no?”

“We can’t!”

“Why the hell not? We’re adults. We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

“It will complicate everything.”

Even though he agreed with her, they’d gone too far to stop now. Jagger stroked her hair, gazing into her eyes. The lust in them was unmistakable. “How long were you standing there watching me?”

A small sound, almost like a plea, came out.

“You watched the whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Tiny whimpers escaped her throat as Jagger brushed his finger along her collarbone. The sound sent shivers down his spine. When he ran his thumb across her left nipple, she cried out softly.

“Please … please don’t.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No. I mean I do like it, but this is wrong.”

Even through the tank top, he could see how swollen her breasts were. He was dying here. Jagger flicked the other nipple. He had to see them and taste them. “Why is it wrong?”

“Because … because of who we are.”

“We’re just people. A man and a woman who are hot for each other. Tell me you don’t find me as attractive as I find you.”

“You’re gorgeous. And sexy. Not the point.” Her voice betrayed the fact that her willpower was caving fast.

“It is exactly the point. You’re fucking beautiful, and I want to fuck you. You want to fuck me. We might as well have some fun while we figure this out.”

When he brushed both hands between her legs, Jagger grinned as he realized how soaking wet her pussy was. “I knew it. Can’t fake that, Carolyn. You do want me.”

Her eyelids fluttered as he rubbed her clit. She sighed. “Oh … please…”

“Please what?” Jagger nuzzled her neck. “Tell me what you want me to do.” He pushed harder on her clit.

“Oh fuck…”

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can smell it on you.”

“Yes.”

When Jagger took his hands away, her eyes flew open. “Why did you stop?”

He cupped her face. “Tell me you’ll let me fuck you, anyway I want to, as long as I want to, and in every room of this apartment if that’s what I want, and I’ll let you come.”

*****

***Other Buy Links***

Amazon UK | Amazon USAll Romance EbooksBookStrand

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The Hotter the Love by Lea Bronsen (@LeaBronsen)

Hi and thank you so much for hosting the third and last book of the Hot Model Mine trilogy!

The Hotter the LoveBlurb:

After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea’s sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons’ girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea’s young and very handsome fiancé…

On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher’s offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new “Cover Photo of the Year”. Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?

*****

Excerpt

We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space.

Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object.

The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere.

Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction.

I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame. Jekaterina?

My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated.

Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery.

I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them. He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again?

I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet.

She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove.

Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked. He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid.

I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable.

My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us?

Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved.

Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?”

I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.”

She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?”

“At an author conference.”

Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.”

“Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it.

“Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse?

She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?”

Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.

*****

Book trailer: https://youtu.be/ho7fOUvnFfw

Book links: Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Bookstrand / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / All Romance eBooks / Goodreads / Pinterest

*****

hotmodelmine

About the other books in the series

The Perfect Shoot (book #1)

When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits…

Get The Perfect Shoot at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-perfect-shoot-by-lea-bronsen/

Mine to Love (book #2)

The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future?

Get Mine to Love at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/mine-to-love-by-lea-bronsen/

*****

Lea BronsenAbout the author

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.

I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:

Website / Lea’s Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon

Ruler’s Concubine by Peri Elizabeth Scott #scifi #erotica #romance

Thank you for having me! Ruler’s Concubine represents two different species attempting a connection, and proves that regardless of distinct differences, love will carry the day.

Rulers-Concubine-evernightpublishing-2016-3DrenderBlurb:

Meridia is headed for extinction, unless a compatible species can be found. The backward planet, Earth, the one the Meridians stripped of technology now holds the only promising species in the Galaxy. As Ruler, Lysett Daboort will do his duty and choose a royal concubine from those women ‘liberated’ from Earth, but that is all it will be—until he meets Celeste Raynor.

Celeste is barely subsisting on Earth and isn’t enamored with becoming one of Meridia’s concubines, despite the esteem afforded their females. But there is nothing left for her at home and she isn’t averse to having a child to love, not to mention a caring, supportive partner. Until she meets the Ruler himself.

The Ruler resists Celeste’s appeal and she refuses his arrogant approach, yet they must somehow come to terms. Lysett rules supreme, or does he? Because love has the most power of all.

Buy Links:

Evernight PublishingBookstrand | All Romance eBooks | Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

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Excerpt:

This isn’t happening. This is not happening. If she kept repeating those words then surely it would be true and she’d miraculously wake up from this erotic nightmare and in her own bed. Except it wasn’t a nightmare and she most certainly wasn’t in her assigned bed—or even on her own planet. Although her imagination was fertile—and she’d seen pictures of him—it was unlikely to manifest the enormously good looks and incredible physique of the alien male who was stripping right before her very eyes. Yes, stripping. Removing all of his clothes, not five feet from where she lay on a bed constructed of some otherworldly material that both cushioned and restrained her. Had it only been yesterday when Bast told her today would be the day? No wonder she hadn’t slept well, thinking about this. And why did this Ruler look even better in person?

Once he’d overcome his reticence to speak so frankly with her, Bast had prepared her with stories of his Master’s need, of his sexual prowess and all the pleasures he would bestow, not to mention that cup of elixir she’d swallowed down.

Being assured it was the planet’s best aphrodisiac had her quaffing the liquid as though it were a life saver. Its effects were marked almost immediately as she cataloged an increase in her body temperature and a definite aching in her private parts with embarrassingly obvious lubrication accompanying the throbbing. Even her breasts had ached, the nipples tightening and beading in reaction to the potion.

But the effect had worn off because Lysett had been detained for a considerable period. The delay had given her too much time to reflect on her decision and the strange glowing feelings throughout her body had diminished—until he walked through the door. His good looks stole her breath, and when he began to take his clothes off, she wanted to do shocking, sexual things with him. The emotional and physical swings made her stomach lurch.

Her uninfluenced sexual-self recognized the potency of such a male, and to say she wasn’t naturally aroused would be untrue. Her body acknowledged a male suited to her, awash with chemistry and basic animal instinct. It was simply the circumstances that brought her here, and the stark implications of the contract that spoiled their first interaction. Why hadn’t he deviated from so-called royal tradition and spent some time with her beforehand? Surely Bast had relayed that even an initial chat would be optimum.

Celeste’s heart rate doubled, then tripled, when Lysett’s erection sprang forth as his lower garments were yanked down, and dark spots swam in her vision. That part of him was a duskier gold than the rest of his burnished skin, and freaking huge.

“Shhh, Lady.” Bast’s caramel tones spoke soothingly in her right ear, and one of his hands tentatively patted her shoulder. She’d very nearly forgotten he was still in the room with her—with her and his Master, although he had handled the process clinically and indicated he would leave before… “You are prepared for this union, as we discussed. It will be over before you know it, and if you get with offspring this first time, there will be no need for further joinings. Unless you wish them. And to beget other children.”

Well, didn’t that make her feel special? No pressure either. Merely a vessel out here in space, far away from home, to be used. She blinked away the tears that welled in reaction. Where was her voice? She could still say no…

The Ruler paused in his approach to the bed and glared at Bast after he spoke, though that look encompassed her as well. Celeste had never felt so naked—or so vulnerable. She knew what was supposed to happen. She thought she was ready. Not. And to think she’d scoffed at the wait, chuckled about others procreating before this man. No one would dare. Shocking need warred with apprehension.

“You assured me she was prepared, Bast.” Lysett’s perfect features set in angry lines and those remarkable green eyes now appeared as cold and frozen as that small pond at her home place in the winter months. She tried to use the memory of Earth to distract her, and it caused a homesick shudder to take over her entire body, the gentle clasp of the bed’s fabric undulating to keep her in place.

Lysett’s attention snapped fully to her in an instant, his orbs now glowing with green fire as the vertical slash of his pupils elongated. His gaze raked her body, lingering on her breasts and the apex of her thighs. Despite her limited experience with men, let alone alien men, Celeste recognized lust and desire and her body responded. Or maybe it was apprehension.

“She is prepared, Master. I do assure you. It is merely that a period of time has passed since we expected you to attend her, and it is no surprise that your concubine is experiencing a trifle of anxiety.”

Even with the translator chip, Bast’s wording felt off to her, and she decided to add her own voice. This was going to happen, this attending to her, no matter how she second-guessed her decision, and she believed Bast when he promised she’d be safe here. Having sex—joining—with his Master until she conceived was something she could do. Women did it all the time, had done it over the eons. It wasn’t like she was being forced or anything. And she wasn’t a prostitute, although that profession got a bad rap as far as she was concerned when one considered women had to survive somehow.

She was, according to the contract, a revered commodity, a virgin concubine—who wasn’t going to be a virgin much longer—a concubine who would bear a child for the alien ruler, right? And if the baby was female, she too would be cherished and Lysett would try again to beget a son. And again… All of Bast’s teachings slipped through her brain with lightning speed. Celeste shivered and quit thinking about all those possibilities and focused on what she’d been promised.

She would want for nothing, be well taken care of, and ultimately, kept safe. The presenter’s words and those of Bast rattled around in her head. Given her past circumstances, it was a no-brainer, and she couldn’t go home. Her body was up for it, and her mind had accepted it was the best out of all her choices. So it must be her heart throwing up the roadblock, looking for romance, all because of his pictures and the wonderful things his first servant had said about him.

That was nonsense. Just look at the agony love caused a person. Her stupid heart must be masochistic. This was the best deal she’d get and it was time she said something. There was no way she could go through this process again. Humiliation drowned her common sense. She moistened her lips and addressed Lysett, who was busily engaged in a staring contest with Bast.

“I am prepared, sir. Sir. Ruler. I won’t give you any trouble.”

His eyes froze through to their depths again and his dark brows drew together. She noted his erection didn’t flag at all, though. He might be annoyed, but it didn’t affect his arousal. The wide head glistened in the well-lit chamber, with his natural lubricant beading at the tiny slit. She had timidly asked if her deflowering couldn’t take place in the dark, but Bast refused, saying that tradition didn’t allow it. Spread eagle as she was, there was little left to the imagination, and she flushed again with embarrassment and no small shame. Lysett was superbly made, muscled and lean, with broad shoulders, long thick legs, and narrow hips. She was … well, she was short, and small and round, now that she’d had enough to eat. So not like the remaining Meridian females on this planet. And certainly not the cream of the crop of the human females either.

“You were not given leave to speak.”

Celeste didn’t much care for the way he snarled at her, Ruler or not.

*****

3551b (2)Author Bio:

Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She recently closed her part time private practice as a social worker and child play therapist. Her love of children extends to the animal world, and her most recent rescue includes a one-eyed cat with an Elvis smirk.

Peribeth and her husband have a seasonal business and pretend to work well together, so she will always have a job.

Writing for years, mostly short stories and poetry, she has published dark erotica under another pen name and reads everything she can lay her hands on.

http://www.perielizabethscott.com/

 

Three Reasons Manchester is a City for Romance by Victoria Blisse (@victoriablisse) #tirgearr

Photo credit: Darren McGinn

Photo credit: Darren McGinn

Why on earth would I write an erotic romance set in Manchester?

Well, I’m practically Mancunian myself and I’m proud of my city. It is beautiful. I talk about a few of its landmarks in One Night in Manchester but I couldn’t fit all the beauty in one novella. When you visit be sure to look up, some of the frontages especially around Piccadilly are breathtaking.

The people are sound. That’s brilliant to anyone not up on their Manc lingo. Caring, fun loving and often up for a chat. People from the north west of England make amazing lovers too you know… No, I have no stats but take it from me, I’m born and bred in the north west 😉

It rains a lot which sounds bad but wet clothes and stripping off can lead to sexy times! Also when the sun is out flesh comes out so we northerners can enjoy it whilst it lasts!

And that’s just 3 reasons Manchester is so awesome! Here’s another – it is home to the best football team in the world (yes, I’m biased), Manchester United. Here’s an excerpt from One Night in Manchester which happens inside the hallowed ground of Old Trafford.

*****

OneNightinManchesterbyVictoriaBlisse-500Excerpt:

Everywhere we look there are people.

I’ve been to the Theatre of Dreams before, but only ever to look at the merchandise store. I’ve never been here when the huge pathways are covered with people as they are now. The atmosphere is electric with expectation and hope. My whole body tingles with excitement, and not just because Grant’s hand is in mine as we walk past the iconic statue of Sir Matt Busby.

“This place is huge,” I declare, eyes wide with awe.

“Meh, it’s not bad, I suppose.” Grant shrugs.

“Oh, don’t tell me, everything’s bigger in America, eh?”

“That’s correct, Miss Sassy Pants.” Grant grins. “It’s the American way.”

“To be offensively boastful?” I scoff.

He stops suddenly, causing the group of guys behind us to shuffle past giving us sideways glances and huffing loudly. As I look up at Grant, my stomach swirls with nerves. He’s giving me a particularly stern stare.

“That was rude, Jessica.”

“Yeah, I guess it was. Sorry.”

“Sorry what?” he growls. It’s amazing how his soft lilt becomes so hard and threatening and how fucking sexy that is.

“Sorry, Sir.”

“Better. Just be grateful the match starts soon or I’d be taking you off for a spanking. Come on, let’s get to our seats.”

“Yeah, sure.” I walk on with him until we reach our gate. As we queue to go through the turnstile, my anxiety bursts forth. I hate the idea that he’s angry with me. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Grant, I was just teasing.”

“I know, honey. I’m not upset, just taking every opportunity available to add to your punishment tally.” He squeezes my hand.

“Oh, good, I was worried,” I sigh, letting out the upset that had been bubbling up inside, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I feel a bit silly for getting so worried over nothing. We push through the turnstile and once we’ve moved away from the hustle and bustle he embraces me.

“If you ever really upset me I’d let you know. I’m just eager to spank you again and will use any excuse to get my hand on your ass.”

“Oh.” I blush and squeeze him tighter. “That’s good because I want to feel your hand on my arse again.”

“Arse,” he mimics and chuckles, then runs his hands down to cup my bottom and moans. “God, I love your arse.”

“Cheeky,” I giggle, not totally opposed to the feel of his hands cupping my buttocks, but very aware of the crowds of people around us.

“You started it. Now stop distracting me and let’s go watch some soccer.”

“Football,” I laugh and pull him towards the steps leading out onto the stands.

“Minx, that’s another spank!” he exclaims.

Any further words are drowned out by a loud cheer as we walk out of the tunnel to the stand. It’s breathtaking. The size, the brightness, the sheer number of people. Down below us is the famous, bright green pitch, dotted with red-shirted figures. My football team right there in front of me.

For a while we’re both totally taken up by the excitement of being inside Old Trafford watching Manchester United. We gabble on like excited teenagers, taking selfies and pointing out the players we love on the pitch. When the whistle blows and the game starts we’re completely absorbed, watching every kick, gasping and moaning and cheering in unison with seventy-five thousand other fans.

We are close enough to the pitch to be able to smell the grass, but far enough back to have to dance to see over other fans’ heads. We’re meant to be seated, but spend most of our time on our feet, only sitting when directed to by the yellow-coated stewards.

“This is amazing,” I whisper into his ear, “Thank you.”

“Isn’t it?” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in to a side-on hug. We stand like that for a while, then his hand slides lower to my waist, and lower still to rest casually over my bottom. My breath hitches. There are thousands of people around us and someone could see. But of course, no one is looking at other people in the crowd, they’re straining to see what’s happening on the pitch.

*****

Blurb:

After a flirty online relationship, Grant meets Jessica in Manchester.

He works in TV and he shows Jessica around the set where he’s filming. Their relationship quickly escalates and they have sex…on one of the sets! As things develop, so does their love play. In public places! And a little spanking never really hurt anyone.

Will Jessica be able to say goodbye to Grant when his work is done?

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q/

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q/

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-night-in-manchester

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/648625

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-manchester/id1131686070?mt=11

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-manchester-victoria-blisse/1124074104

*****

11731759_10154039766657786_3868193766871696713_oBio:

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all round Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut AlfrescoSmut by the Sea (Vol.1)Smut by the Sea (Vol.2)Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.

She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut NightsSmut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.

Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest