Susana and the Scott by Sabrina York (@sabrina_york)

by | Jan 8, 2016 | | 0 Comments

Susana and the ScotBestselling author Sabrina York carries readers back to the wild Scottish Highlands, where the bravest of men surrender to no one-except the boldest of women…

Scotland, 1813.

A SCANDALOUS TEMPTATION
Andrew Lochlannach is famous for his conquests, on and off the battlefield. When a fellow warrior challenges him to a kissing contest, he wastes no time in planting his lips on ninety-nine lovely lasses-an impressive feat of seduction that gets him banished to the hinterlands. Still, Andrew has no regrets about his exploits-especially his embrace with the most beguiling woman he’s ever met…

AN UNDENIABLE PASSION 
With flaming red hair and a temper to match, Susana is not some innocent farmgirl who gives herself over easily to a man, even one as ruggedly handsome as Andrew. The wicked Scot may have won a kiss from the headstrong beauty in a moment of mutual desire, but Susana refuses to be just another one of his conquests. Andrew must convince the fiery lass that even though he is not playing a game, losing her is not an option…

“You can’t go wrong with a Sabrina York story.”-Desiree Holt

*****

READ AN EXCERPT!

Susana was annoyed. There was no doubt about it. The swish of her hips as she led him across the bustling bailey was a dead giveaway, that and the dark glowers she shot over her shoulder. But Andrew couldn’t help but be amused. For one thing, she was damn alluring with she was annoyed.

Hell, she was damn alluring altogether. The curve of her waist alone could drive a man insane, much less that silky tumble of hair. He wanted to wrap it is his fist, wind it around his body. A certain part of his body.

At the thought, his cock rose.

It was difficult to remind himself that he’d vowed to eschew seduction, but try as he might, he couldn’t banish the fantasy of stripping those breeks from her lovely body and laying her down in the heather. Visions of that twitching backside—bare before him—danced in his head.

But he’d made a vow. A sacred vow. And as tempting as she was, he would control his baser urges. He could. Probably.

These thoughts whirled in his head as she led him into the stables, past his men—who were unpacking and seeing to their horses—and through the kennels. Though he was perplexed, Andrew followed. He would probably follow anywhere she led. It was a fact that should have scared him to death or at the very least, concerned him. But it didn’t. However, when she started up a staircase at the very end of the long hall, he had to stop her.

She glared at the hand he set on her arm. He tried to ignore the sizzle that raged through him at their first touch. It was ridiculous how much that touch affected him. And how much he enjoyed her glare.

He edged closer. “Where are we going?” he asked in a purr.

Judging from her frown, his tone irritated her. He rather enjoyed irritating her, he found.

She ripped her arm away and continued up the stairs. He followed and found himself in a narrow loft that ran the length of the kennels. It was dim and a little dusty. Motes danced on the air. The roof was so low he had to duck his head to miss the rafters.

“Your men will stay here,” she said.

Andrew gaped at her. The room was swept clean and empty. A thin shaft of light from the far window illuminated it with a murky light. But the yipping from the kennel and the stench of excrement wafted up from below. For some reason, all thoughts of alluring backsides dissipated. Disbelief gushed through him. “Here?”

She crossed her arms and offered what could only be described as a smirk. “Here.”

He tipped his head to the side. “This is a kennel.”

“I am aware of that.”

“I have twenty-five men.”

“The room is quite large.”

“There are no beds.”

She blew out a breath. “We’ll bring in pallets.”

Andrew blinked. He set his teeth and tried to remain calm. His men were warriors. They did not sleep on pallets. In a kennel. “This will not do.” Surely she saw that. Surely she understood… He caught a glimpse of her smug expression and it dawned on him.

She did. She did understand. She knew damn well what she was doing. Her response only verified his suspicions.

“I’m sorry, but you have descended upon us with no warning whatsoever with a large group of men. I’m afraid this is all we can offer you at this time.” Her smile was deferential, but hardly sincere. The light dancing in her eyes lit a flame in his belly. “Of course, if our accommodations are unacceptable, you can always return to Dunnet…”

Oh, she’d like that, wouldn’t she?

The minx.

Rather than the exasperation her self-satisfied look should have sparked, Andrew found himself filled with another emotion entirely. Anticipation. Exhilaration. The thrill of a challenge.

For that was what she was, Susana Dounreay. A challenge.

And it appeared she reveled in provoking him.

A pity she didn’t understand he was a dangerous man to provoke.

The tumult her presence sparked within him flared again, burning the edges of his resolution; his inconvenient lust blossomed, and with it, an unruly resolve.

He wanted, very badly, to kiss her.  He wanted to wrench her into his arms and cover her sweet mouth with his. He wanted to taste her, consume her, possess her.

And he would.

Clearly he wasn’t the kind of man who could swear off women. Clearly he wasn’t the kind of man who could keep a vow.

So be it.

Damn to hell his ridiculous vow.

Damn to hell the fact that she was his sister-in-law.

He was going to seduce this vixen, and he would start right now.

Desire, like a snarling, snapping beast, rose within him, and he stepped closer.

 

Susana’s eyes flared as Andrew advanced on her, like a skulking fox that had spotted a plump rabbit. She didn’t mean to retreat, but she had to. She’d seen that expression in his eyes before and she knew what it meant. Something within her howled: Run.

Perhaps it was the expression in his eyes, or the knowledge that she was playing with fire, or the sudden realization that she’d foolishly come here, to this deserted loft with the most dangerous man she’d ever met, but she couldn’t still the urge to whirl and pace to the far end of the room to peer out of the smudged window. She was aware he followed. She felt his presence like a fire in a forge.

Desperation prompted her to continue their conversation, to put some space between them, to raise a shield. “The room is perfectly habitable,” she proclaimed. “And once we have pallets brought in, it will serve you well.”

“Will it?”

His voice was low in her ear, a whisper almost. And far too close. She wanted to turn, to confront him, but she knew, if she did, they would be face to face, perhaps lip to lip and she could not allow that. She could never allow that.

The last time he’d kissed her, it had been her undoing.

A pity he didn’t remember.

“My men willna like being housed with the dogs.” Holy God. Was that his hand on her hip? His thumb tracing her waist? “Nae doubt they will all want to find…other beds to welcome them.”

Susana stilled as his words sank in. The threat was clear. And it was rather horrifying. A horde of randy warriors set loose on the innocent maidens of Dounreay? That his hand had slid over to toy with the small of her back, to tangle in the skeins of her hair, didn’t help.

Her pulse thudded and her knees went weak. She couldn’t have it. She couldn’t have this man touching her. She sucked in a breath and slipped to the side, out of his grasp. When she was far enough away for some measure of safety, she turned to face him, a reproachful look fixed on her face. “Are your men so lacking in discipline?” She hoped her frown, her reproving tone, would bring him to heel. She should have known better.

He grinned and stepped closer. His eyes glinted, as though needling her was an amusing sport. “They are verra disciplined…when their needs are met.”

She crossed her arms, as though that could protect her, and pretended to study the room. Pretended she wasn’t aware of his thrumming presence, his heat, his intent. “Well, I shall hold you responsible for any…improprieties.” She took a step toward the staircase, only a tiny one—surely not an attempt to escape.

He chuckled—chuckled, the bastard—making it clear he recognized her cowardice for what it was. And he paced her.

“They’re all good men. They all volunteered to come with me. Each and every one of them is dedicated to the cause of protecting Reay from the villains who have been plaguing you. However…”

The way he trailed off derailed her retreat. She stilled. Glared at him. “However, what?”

“However, they do have…needs. Surely you can find better lodgings.”

She blew out a breath. “In time.” In time.

In time, he would be gone, God willing.

He stepped toward her again, although nonchalantly, as though he were not chasing her across the room. It occurred to her they were engaged in something of a macabre dance. It set her nerves on edge. She hadn’t realized what a long room this was, or how far it was to the stairs.

“Doona leave it too long.” His smile was heinous. It made all kinds of shivers dance over her skin. “My men are…restless.” She had the chilling sense he was talking about himself.

“I shall…do my best.” Like hell. “And now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”

His brow quirked. She tried not to notice what a perfect brow it was. “Ah, but I thought you and I could…talk.”

“Talk?” She didn’t intend to squawk, but she could tell from his predatory stance, a conversation was not the primary urge on his mind. At least, not one with words.

He nodded. Though his features were patently earnest, the sincerity was patently affected. “About the defenses you have in place…so I can decide what needs improvement.”

Aggravation rippled. It displaced her concerns about being here, with him, all alone. Fury did that, she’d often found. Overrode common sense and led one into dangerous waters. Her hands curled into fists. She strode toward him until they were nearly nose to nose. “Nothing needs improvement,” she snapped. They didn’t need him. Or his men. Or his stupid ideas.

“Nonsense. Now that we’re here, we intend to make a statement to Stafford, or whatever miscreants are lurking out there thinking Dounreay is an easy target. But before I set my plans in motion—”

“Your plans?” He already had plans? Och! He was so exasperating.

She barely noticed that he stepped closer…until their chests brushed. He was hard and hot; the touch made her tingle. His voice, low and luring made her tingle as well. His gaze skated over her face, then stalled on her lips. “Let’s meet and discuss—”

Her pulse skittered. “I doona have time to meet with you. Not today.” She took a step back. He followed.

“Nae?” A whisper. And his caress over her shoulder, that was a whisper as well. Like a panicked fawn, Susana eased back again. And again. He matched her, step for step.

She swallowed heavily. “I… You have descended upon us with no warning—”

“My brother sent a letter.”

He was too close. Far too close. She swallowed heavily. “Twenty-five men that now need to be housed and fed. On top of that, I have many other duties that need attending.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Which duties?”

“Many duties.” She frowned and glanced toward the staircase. Ah, lord. It was so far… He was too warm. Too broad. Too alluring. Though she didn’t intend to, she took another step back and—

Oh hell. He’d backed her against the wall. That he couldn’t stand straight in the low-ceilinged room was a small consolation.

“Susana,” he said as he leaned closer. His breath was a tantalizing trail over her face.

An unholy thrill snaked through her. Surely that wasn’t anticipation? Hunger? Need?

She could not allow him to kiss her. She could not—

Her knees nearly melted at the touch of his lips. His warmth, his taste, his scent made her mind whirl. Thank God he had his hands on her waist and was holding her steady, or she might well have collapsed.

It occurred to her that she should push him away, fight him, but she couldn’t. Something, something deep within her resisted. Something deep within her needed him. Needed this.

And ah, it was glorious. As glorious as she remembered.

His lips were soft, gentle, questing as they tested hers and then, with a groan, he pulled her closer, melding their bodies together. He deepened the kiss, sealing his mouth over hers and dancing his tongue over the seam.

She opened to him. She couldn’t resist. He filled her senses with his presence, his heat. With tiny nibbles, sucks and laps, he consumed her, enflamed her. All sanity fled. All logic and resolution and anger flitted away as Andrew tasted her, tempted her.

His hands were not still. They roved over her body from her shoulders, down her arms to her waist. They tangled in her hair and stroked her cheek and chin.

Heat blossomed, skittered through her veins. Her body softened, melted, prepared for him.

She should not have responded the way she did. She should not have pressed against him, rubbed against the hard bulge on his belly. She should not have explored the hard flesh of his back, cupped his nape, raked his silken scalp. She should not have moaned.

Surely all these things would only encourage him.

He lifted his head and stared at her, an odd mixture of befuddlement and awe in his eyes. His tongue peeped out and dabbed at his lips, snagging her attention. Surely she didn’t lean toward him in a mute plea for more.

Was she truly so weak?

Aye. She was.

Available from: Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT SABRINA YORK’S UNTAMED HIGHLANDERS

Bold and steamy—Publisher’s Weekly

A stunning tale from beginning to end—Love, Life and Booklust

Top Pick—Night Owl Reviews

York turns her talent for sizzle to men in kilts—and the women who love them—in her newest sexy romp—RT Magazine

 

Untamed Highlanders Series

Hannah and the Highlander

Susana and the Scot—Coming December 29th

Lana and the Laird—Coming in May 2016

 

Want More Highlanders by Sabrina York?

Laird of her Heart–Highland Time Travel

Tarnished Honor–Waterloo Heroes Romance

*****

Sabrina_head_logoAbout Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance.  Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Get updates and alerts from Sabrina here: HotSheet Sign Up.

 

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A Scarlet Christmas by D.L. King (@d_l_king)

by | Jan 7, 2016 | | 0 Comments

A Scarlet ChristmasHi Lucy and thanks so much for having me on your blog! I’ve got a new novella out, which is kind of unusual for me as I mostly edit anthologies and write short stories. But this one is special, at least to me. It’s a femdom retelling of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

I started writing this years ago, but put it down and forgot about it. A few months ago, I was going through my bits and pieces (sometimes they give me ideas and sometimes, I decide I need to work on one of them) when I came across the two or three paragraphs I’d written. Evidently the time was right because I actually started dreaming about the story. I’d wake up and want to write down what I’d been dreaming about.

I have to say, I really love this story. It makes me laugh and brings tears to my eyes. And, of course, it makes me hot, too.

It’s a book as much about New York at Christmas time, as it is about learning to care for fellow humans on the planet and lead a good life—and maybe even have fun while you’re doing it.

I do want to warn your readers, though, it isn’t a romance, as stated on Amazon. There really isn’t any love match at all. It’s all about learning a hard lesson and getting on with your life. That’s not to say there isn’t plenty of sex, because there absolutely is! I don’t think anyone can say I don’t put enough of the good stuff in my work.

I thought I’d add a little excerpt, just to give you a taste. This little clip doesn’t have any sex in it. It’s just a bit of an introduction to what you might expect to find. Of course, I think you should buy it now, so you can read it on Christmas, but that’s me.

Excerpt:

Ebenezer looked from side to side. Nothing that could be used as a weapon. He got out of bed and, as he stepped onto the floor, the board he landed on squeaked. The door was locked, buying him time. Where was his phone? Just as he realized he must have left it downstairs, a voice on the other side of the door spoke.

“Eb, are you in there? I don’t want to frighten you. Do you mind if I come in?”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Ebenezer barked, though his voice wavered a bit.

“Eb, it’s me, Sherman. Look, do you mind if I come in? It’s really cold out here.”

“Sherman? Sherman Tindall? Sherman Tindall’s dead. I’m calling the police!”

“Look, Eb, I’m really sorry, but I’m on a tight schedule, you know. I don’t have time and it really is cold in your hallway.” As Ebenezer watched, a gray mist issued from under the door, eventually coalescing into a somewhat transparent, 3D image of his old friend, Sherman Tindall.

“Sherman, it is you. What the devil are you doing here?” Ebenezer asked. “I mean, how did you… what did you do to… I mean, you’re dead—aren’t you?”

“My god, man, don’t you heat this house? Well, this room’s a little warmer than the hall, but really. You’ll catch your death. Mark my words. And I know what I’m talking about,” and he put his semi-solid index finger against the side of his semi-solid nose and tapped twice.

“Heat costs money, Sherman, and why am I arguing with a ghost? You’re not even here. I’m still asleep and having a nightmare—probably from that substandard Chinese food I had for dinner. That’s the last time I order from those guys.”

“You’re not having a nightmare,” Sherman said, “and you have more money than God. Spend a little. That’s what it’s for. You can’t take it with you and don’t I know it? And actually, that’s why I’m here. I can’t stay long.”

“Pity,” Ebenezer said.

Sherman’s ghost huffed and mumbled something about drawing the short straw. “Look, you’ve got to change your ways before it’s too late. I learned too late and look what my afterlife is like. I counted you as a friend in life and I don’t want to see you follow in my footsteps.”

“Why, what’s so bad about your afterlife? You’re out, visiting friends—whether they want you to, or not—what do you expect?”

A high-pitched scream issued from the ghost and then a low moan. He opened his coat and Ebenezer could see a host of tiny creatures pulling and tearing at Sherman’s insides. His organs were ripped to shreds and the walls of his stomach were torn and bleeding. “An eternity of pain, that’s what awaits you.”

Ebenezer shrank back. “Sherman, that’s terrible. Let me call someone, a doctor or something.”

“There’s nothing that can be done. Not for me. I’m dead, remember? I’m only here to warn you.”

“Warn me about what, Sherman?”

“Three spirits will come for you tonight. Do not mock them or it will go worse for you. Trust me on this. They are powerful and they know what you need.” Ebenezer opened his mouth. “No. You must do as they tell you. They are come to help you and that’s all I can say.” Another scream ripped through the silence that followed and was almost immediately cut off. Sherman was gone, leaving Ebenezer standing at the foot of his bed with his hand against his heart.

He added wood to the fire and banked it, then poured another two fingers of scotch and crawled back into bed. That was crazy. He knew he was awake, but that couldn’t have happened. There were no such things as ghosts. He took a drink of scotch and leaned back against his pillows. “Must have been a dream,” he muttered before falling back asleep.

 

Available from: Amazon UK | Amazon US

 

And, if you like it and want to review it, or tell people about it, well, I wouldn’t tell you not to. I’m just saying…

D. L. King
http://dlkingerotica.blogspot.com
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Out Now! Crossroads by Gale Stanley @GaleStanley #MMRomance @EvernightPub

by | Jan 5, 2016 | | 3 Comments

CrossroadsHi! Thanks for letting me stop by to talk about my new book – Crossroads.

The story was inspired by a recent trip to New Orleans. We stayed at the historic Omni Royal Orleans in the heart of the French Quarter and we were able to walk to all the fantastic restaurants, shopping, and entertainment. We toured the area hit by Katrina, the cemeteries, and the voodoo museum. In movies and TV, voodoo is usually shown as a dark and scary practice. In reality, it’s a religious practice in which the followers have direct contact with the spirits. And that’s the story I wanted to tell.

The events in Crossroads take place around Christmas, a season of miracles, but really, it could happen any time of the year. All you have to do is believe…

*****

Blurb

Long time lovers, Louis Abellard and Jesse Trudeau work in a Voodoo shop in the French Quarter. Jesse is a believer, but Louis turned his back on the spirits when they allowed his mother to die of cancer.

When Jesse is hospitalized with leukemia, Louis is desperate to save him. He’ll do anything—except ask the spirits for help. Then one night an unlikely ally makes contact, and Louis finds himself at a crossroads. Maybe it’s time to revisit his past and confront his inner demons.

*****

Crossroads-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2015-banner2

Teaser

Three years ago, Jesse walked into the voodoo shop and asked for a job. It was love at first sight—for Mawmaw and Jesse. They hit it off immediately. Jesse is a believer, the grandson she should have had.

I was smitten, too, but for other reasons. Jesse looked so damn hot, all long blond hair and golden-brown skin like he should have been riding a surfboard instead of a skateboard. His cutoffs were stretched tight over the bulge at his crotch, and being the slut I was back then, I wanted to fuck him. I gave Mawmaw a thumbs-up, and she hired him on the spot.

Jesse stayed for dinner. My grandmother filled his head with ghost stories and his stomach with her spicy shrimp gumbo. I took him to bed later and filled him in other ways. It didn’t take long for lust to turn into the real thing. Fortunately, I didn’t screw things up, and Jesse moved in two weeks later. Jesse is easy to love. I’m not sure what he sees in me, I’m just grateful the feelings are mutual.

Available at

Evernight | Amazon US | Amazon UK | All Romance

*****

Gale StanleyAUTHOR BIO:

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

A Contract for Christmas By Lisabet Sarai #bdsm #eroticromance #menage #holiday #christmas #mfm #polyamory

by | Jan 1, 2016 | | 0 Comments

A Contract For ChristmasI really didn’t have time to write a holiday story this year. The deadline for my next novel is December 31st, and I’m at least half a dozen chapters from the end. As usual, the holiday season means lots of social events, not to mention end-of-year work responsibilities. Then there were gifts to buy or create, cards to send, decorations to hang, cookies to bake—all the lovely, but time-consuming, activities associated with with December.

Once I’d conceived the idea for A Contract for Christmas, though, the story wouldn’t let me go. I’ve been writing about Isabella, Greg and James for a couple of years now. Every time I sit down to pen another episode, I learn more about who they are and what they want. In this case, I realized how emotionally dependent Isabella was on her dominant husband Greg. I started to wonder whether this was a good thing. Apparently, given the ending of the story, Greg was thinking along the same lines.

So anyway, I stole the time for writing this. I devoted two solid eight-hour days to the process, deferring everything else that I could. I ended up with a massive headache and a stiff back—but I had my Christmas story!

I hope you like it.

*****

Blurb:

Isabella plans to surprise her husband and master Greg with an intimate Christmas Eve dinner for two. She’s left with only her fantasies of Greg’s dominance to keep her company, though, when a blizzard strands him at an airport a thousand miles away. Then her husband’s best friend James shows up at her door. Over the past year, Greg has invited James to participate in some of their kinky scenes, but Bella has never been alone with the sexy entrepreneur. Should she let him in and risk surrendering to his quiet authority without her master’s permission?

Greg resolves her doubts in an unexpected phone call, ordering her to fulfill James’s every desire. Ever obedient, Bella complies, and James rewards her with a night of soul-searing pleasure. When Greg returns on Christmas morning, he appears unfazed by her powerful new connection to his friend. Instead, he offers Bella an outrageous gift, one she’s not sure she dares accept.

Buy Links
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords

*****

Excerpt

I thought he’d kiss me—I even closed my eyes—but instead he forced me toward the floor. “Crawl to the bedroom, Bella. Now.”

He landed a swat on my upturned butt. The sting set me moving, though obviously not fast enough for James, since he continued to spank me the whole way.

The wall-to-wall carpet in the hallway rubbed my knees raw, and the parquet in the bedroom bruised, but I didn’t care. My only goal was to satisfy my new master. On my hands and knees by the side of bed, I waited for his next command.

James switched on the recessed ceiling lights, which provided a dim, soothing illumination. He surveyed the room. “As I recall, you keep your toy box in the guest bedroom. But I’d be surprised if you didn’t stash a few restraints and such in here, too…” He rummaged in the drawer of the bed table for a moment, then held up a set of fur-lined leather cuffs. “Just as I expected. Up on the bed, Bella. I want you on your back, with your arms over your head.”

I was in position—one of my favorites, to be honest —almost before he’d finished speaking.

“You seem commendably eager to obey,” he commented as he cuffed my wrists and clipped them to the curlicue brass headboard. “Greg certainly has you well-trained.”

Considering the circumstances, I didn’t think that observation required any response.

He captured my feet in matching restraints, then forced my thighs apart so he could bind each ankle to a corner post with Velcro straps. It took no more than sixty seconds for him to immobilize me. As he stood back to admire his handiwork, I wondered for a moment where he’d acquired those skills. Had he and Greg trained as dominants together, or was their mutual interest in kink only a happy coincidence?

Either way, I was the lucky beneficiary.

“Are you comfortable, Bella? No pain?”

In fact my hip joints protested a bit from being spread so wide, but that was a small price to pay for the luscious sense of exposure enforced by this position. The pose elevated my breasts, brazenly presenting my erect nipples. My pussy gaped, displaying my slick, swollen labia and engorged clit. Juices leaked out to drip down the crevice between my ass cheeks, flowing over my still-stretched rear hole. Helpless and horny, I was ready for anything he might want to dish out.

“None that I can’t handle, James.”

“Oh really? Guess I’ll have to ramp up the volume. Just a minute…”

Stripping off his shirt with typical economy and ease, he folded it on the vanity stool. His jeans followed. Before he set them down, he extracted his belt from the waist. “I’m going to want this,” he said, laying it alongside my outstretched body so I could smell the leather. “And these, of course.” He dropped five or six condoms onto the bed table.

I couldn’t help laughing. “How many times do you plan to fuck me, James?”

He kneeled between my legs, his engorged cock bobbing as he moved. “As many times as you can handle, woman.” He picked up the belt, running it over his palm. “Then I’ll fuck you some more.”

*****

About Lisabet

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Mistle Tow by H K Carlton (@AuthorHKCarlton)

by | Dec 31, 2015 | | 0 Comments

Thank you so much for having me today and for the opportunity to share a bit about my new holiday release, Mistle Tow. I’ve always wanted to write a Christmas story. Though, I always thought when I finally wrote one it would be a mushy, heart-warming, sentimental, tearjerker. But when inspiration hit, that’s not what materialized at all. Instead it turned out to be a gift of sorts for the man who inspired the story. My husband.

For more than twenty years my man drove a tow truck while I was the stay-at-home mom and we raised three amazing kids. And now, that same wonderful man, allows me to live my dream of telling stories like this one.

So be forewarned, if you’re looking for a mushy sentimental, carol-filled, tree-trimming, tinsel clinging, twinkling lights and sweet togetherness kind of story, that’s not what this is. It’s really only a holiday story in the sense that it takes place over the Christmas season. It’s about a man trying to move on with his life while avoiding the holidays altogether. But it does contain a hot blonde in a Santa hat, some mistletoe and a sleek and sexy black ’66 Chevelle.

I guess it did turn out kinda mushy in the long run. A love story for the wrecker operator who hooked my heart when I was fifteen-years-old. And he’s never let go.

Hope you enjoy!

Here’s the blurb:

The last thing Brantley Holley wants to do this year is spend the holidays at home with his family.

In an attempt to move on from his failed marriage, Brant places the marital home on the market and also decides to clean house, ridding himself of any and all reminders. Although it wrecks him to do so, that includes selling his beloved ’66 Chevelle which also may have contributed to the demise of his marriage.

Brant puts his baby up on the auction block at one of the premier auction houses — the auction to be held over the holidays. But instead of racking up needless extra miles on her, which might be a detriment to potential buyers, he hires a flatbed tow truck to convey his precious cargo from Philadelphia to Arizona.

But when the rollback shows up, Brant is totally unprepared for the sexy blonde bombshell in the red Santa hat who steps out of the massive red tow truck.

All of a sudden, the holidays are looking a whole lot more festive.

Excerpt:

Brant took one last sip of his coffee in time to hear the unmistakable rumble of a large truck pull up outside, followed by the obnoxious warning back-up beeper that tow trucks were mandated to
employ these days.

Placing his cup on the counter, he took a deep calming breath and hurried over to the door separating the house from the garage.

Hesitating, he stood there with his hand on the doorknob.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked himself for the hundredth time. He’d struggled with this decision for months now. Even after he’d made it and taken the steps to follow through, putting his girl up on the auction block was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make. But it was time to move on. She brought back too many memories he needed to put behind him.

With determination he opened the door and rushed outside before the tow-truck driver rang the bell.

The first thing he saw was the flatbed of the tow truck and he was at once relieved to see how new and clean it appeared to be. The last thing he wanted was his Chelle being transferred on some greasy dirty wrecker. For one, she wasn’t being scrapped, and two, Brant kept all of his stuff in pristine condition. For their last ride together, he intended for her send off to remain the status quo.

Brant stepped out onto the front stoop and immediately pulled his collar up. It was damn cold and by the cloud cover, he didn’t doubt the first snowfall of the year was only hours away. “Come on.” He encouraged the driver. “Let’s get outta here before the bad weather comes.” It would kill him to see snow on his car. What had he been thinking? Why hadn’t he hired an enclosed trailer? Especially at this time of year.

The driver’s door opened and he lost all train of thought. One black-booted foot appeared on the step-down to the massive red cab. Brant followed the line of that knee-high boot up a slim, denim-covered thigh, hip, and waist to the plaid shirt that he half-expected to be topped off with a red and black trimmed jacket. But instead of some burly bearded lumberjack type, he stared into the flawless face of a woman who should be on the cover of one of his car magazines, draped over some sleek and sexy machine instead of driving a fucking rollback.

Things were definitely looking up.

Evernight     Amazon     BookStrand     All Romance

Hope you enjoyed the little teaser.

However you celebrate the season and even if you don’t, I’d like to wish everyone, the peace, love and charity, this time of year evokes.

Blessings and Merry Christmas.

H K

About the Author

H K Carlton is a multi-published Canadian author of romance and its varied sub-genres and couplings; including contemporary, historical, paranormal, naughty fairy tales, family saga, mafia/mob and erotica (m/f, m/m, menage, m/f/f, m/m/m)

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A Christmas Home by April Zyon (@aprilzyon)

by | Dec 30, 2015 | | 0 Comments

ChristmasHomeBanner

A Christmas Home

www.shifters-match.com book 1

By April Zyon

Genre: Paranormal, Rubenesque, May-December, Shifters

Release Date: December 15, 2015

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

 

Blurb:

Ophelia Lambros thought her life was in order, until she lost her fiance and job all in one day.

She couldn’t return the honeymoon trip she’d been given so she takes the opportunity to find herself on the slopes of Wyoming on the back of a snowmobile.

Jagger Morris was perfectly happy running his repair shop in Shifter Falls, his home for years. As the Kodiak Bear Alpha, he has a lot on his plate. When a new pack asks to join them, Jagger’s hackles rise, but he doesn’t know why.

When he meets his fated mate, Ophelia, she shares a piece of herself that confirms his suspicious nature was spot on. As a seer, she can see death coming their way. Can she make her new mate and his friends understand the risk before time runs out?


Purchase Links:

Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon CA |

Barnes & Noble | Bookstrand | AllRomance

Stalk me later links:

Website | Facebook | Facebook Reader Group | Tsu

Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads

 

AChristmasHome-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2015-smallpreview

 

Excerpt:

Throwing the wrench down onto the tool pad, Jagger scrubbed a hand down his face. There were days he loved being a mechanic. Then there were days like today where he knew he should have listened to his mother and gotten into something else. Not that he’d ever tell the woman, even if he was still speaking to her. She already thought too highly of her own opinions. Gods only knew where the woman was today, at least she wasn’t in Shifter Falls giving him even more trouble so that was good.

He grabbed the bottle of water he’d been working on and took a long haul while staring at the engine in question. He was missing something, and it was really starting to piss him off that he couldn’t figure it out.

For the last ten years, he’d been head mechanic at the only automotive shop in Shifter Falls. They were the only one there because they only hired the best and did the best work. Competitors didn’t stand a hope in hell. There had been a few other places that had tried to start up in the Falls. But they’d all shut down within a year because they hadn’t had what it took to work in such a closely knit town. That and they’d been outsiders, something that didn’t go over well with the very private residents who ran the town.

Founded by a shifter pack more than two hundred years prior, the town was home to six different types of shifters. Only through harsh laws and firm hands at the helm of each pack did it work. Especially considering the mix the Falls had running around.

There were plenty of humans living and working there, too, but the majority of the population was other. Sometimes there were problems. Sometimes there were all-out fights, but in the end they all knew they had to live together so things had better damn well work out. Which they usually did, eventually.

Moving to the open door of the bay he was working in, he stared out at the falling snow. The weatherman had predicted another couple of inches throughout the day, and more overnight. Great for all the tourists currently running around Shifter Falls in search of as many wintertime activities as they could find. It also had its perks for the business. It was amazing how many out-of-state tourists had no idea how to handle driving in snow.

He spotted a friend and lifted a hand in greeting. Conroy Hayden was the owner of On The Plate, one of four restaurants in Shifter Falls. The guy was a damn connoisseur when it came to flavors. Likely why his restaurant had managed to get rave reviews in several travel and food magazines. Since then people had come to Shifter Falls not only for the events held but in the hopes to get a table in his restaurant.

“Con, good to see you. I have to admit I didn’t think you’d actually get out during the lunch rush.”

The large redhead shrugged and shot him a smirk. “Figured I should bring you something to eat or you’d forget. Again.”

Jagger spotted the bag then and felt his belly rumble. He’d only had a piece of toast and several cups of coffee for breakfast that morning. It was already one in the afternoon and he wasn’t exactly a small guy. Waving Conroy into the bay, he followed behind the man, shooting the troublesome engine a glare. He cleared off a spot on his work table before grabbing a couple stools to set in front. He took one while Conroy unloaded the bag, hitting Jagger with the scent of cooked meat and spices. His stomach let out a hungry snarl that earned him a knowing look from his friend. Jagger held his tongue, knowing anything he said would only provide Con with more ammo to use against him at a later date.

He accepted the plate from his friend and unwrapped it. A huge pile of roast beef he knew was slow cooked, mashed potatoes, and seasonal greens from the greenhouse at the end of town. Con handed him a little container which held gravy, utensils, and a napkin.

“Thanks,” he said. Cutting off a piece of the beef, Jagger slowly chewed the perfectly cooked meat. It practically melted on his tongue. “Damn this is good,” he practically moaned. Another bite he chewed slowly. He knew better than to shove Con’s food down his throat as fast as possible. The man would beat him silly. And Con was nearly as large as Jagger. They’d both taken boxing as kids, but Jagger had plain meanness on his side. Con was a good soul who wanted to help others, which was why he’d gotten into feeding folks. He said the food was good for the soul and part of why On The Plate did the soup kitchen for those who needed a helping hand.

After finishing the meal, Jagger wiped his mouth while Con packed up the dishes. The secondary dish caught his attention. “What’s that?”

“Dessert,” Con told him.

Accepting the dish, he pulled the top off and inhaled the scent from the hot dessert. It was a crumble of some sort. Rhubarb, for sure, definitely strawberries, but there was something else. He took a bite and let out a moan of pleasure.

“I’m going to assume you like it.”

“Dude, this is spectacular. What all’s in here?”

“The usual, but I threw in some cranberries this time for a more seasonal flavor. Gives it a different taste.”

He nodded, it did at that. Scraping out the last, he licked off the spoon under Con’s knowing watch and passed it back. Another wipe with his napkin before he tossed it into the garbage closest and leveled a look at his friend. “I guess this wasn’t just your need to feed me, since you usually dump and run. What’s going on?”

“Don’t know yet but figured I’d give you a heads-up. The sheriff and a couple deputies were in for lunch today and we got to talking. Apparently there are rumblings from the city council about another pack wanting to set up shop here. They’re calling an emergency meeting tomorrow night to discuss it with the alphas and their seconds. You’ll be getting the call soon, but I wanted to let you know before you got it. I know how much you hate surprises.”

That was an understatement. The last surprise Jagger had gotten was his parents divorcing, his father leaving the Falls, and his mother hooking up with the first of many younger males to keep her bed warm. Since then he’d managed to avoid being surprised with the help of those he called and considered to be true friends, like Conroy. Without them, he’d have been caught with his pants down more than once. But they looked out for him, and he helped look out for them in turn. They were more his family than his parents ever had been.

“I’ll be ready, thanks.” Standing, he gave his friend the quintessential man hug and walked him out of the bay. He stayed there a moment longer to watch the comings and goings of the locals and tourists before turning to face his current nemesis. One way or another he was damn well going to get this thing running. Then he could take it over to the hotel and return it to the tourist to which it belonged.

“All right, you giant hunk of metal, let’s get down to business.”

Capture

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