Bringing the Goddess Aphrodite to Erotic Romance by Anh Leod

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Some characters are never going to get together unless their world is turned on its axis. I never liked those kinds of romances where the characters mostly just seem like they are dating. I want action, drama, short, intense timelines. Maybe none of it is realistic or very smart in real life terms, but it is certainly exciting to read. After all, it’s a romance novel. There is a basic assumption that both the hero and heroine are good, worthy people. Once they work through their difficulties and grow emotionally, there’s no long term risk that the match is going to turn out to be a bad one.

It’s romance!

In Aphrodite’s Necklace, I have a hero and a heroine who would never, ever get together in real life. It’s the 1830s. The heroine is the virginal daughter of the house. A wealthy house. Her family needs her to marry. The hero is the family butler! The heroine, Emily, describes him as such: “Coxe, if he weren’t such an insufferably stuffy bore, would be a handsome man, with unruly mahogany hair that flopped on his brow no matter how much Macassar hair oil he applied, and only the most delicate of side-whiskers. His jaw was very square and the molded lips above her were tight with disapproval.”

So yes, he’s hot, but so far beneath her as to be unimaginable. And yet, he’s handy. To bring these two together despite Victorian mores, I have the Greek goddess Aphrodite cast a spell upon them. It is only when they become unwitting lovers that they can discover each other’s true worth as a romantic partner and fight back against the society that would keep them apart.

Now that’s my idea of a fun, erotic romance!

*****

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EXCERPT

Emily caught a glimpse of the mysterious woman in the doorway that opened onto the corridor. She walked forward as quickly as she could without losing all decorum, but the woman had vanished into the hall. Nearly skipping in her eagerness to reach her, Emily didn’t see the obstacle until she stumbled over it.

A candelabra cast its light to the floor and she saw what had impeded her progress, nearly causing her to fall. She gasped and reached down a hand. It was the woman in red’s necklace.

How could she have missed her jewels tumbling to the floor? Emily examined the piece. The clasp was undone, though it didn’t appear to be broken. Perhaps it was loose, or hadn’t been fastened properly. Emily saw the winking diamonds and sparkling emeralds were quite real. If it were hers she could sell it for not only a significant dowry, but also a year’s household expenses.

Holding such expensive gems made her feel funny, as if her heart and senses wanted to jump out of her skin. What felt almost like a cool breeze lifted her skirt and the air caressed her womanflesh. She shuddered and looked around. Thankfully, no one was paying any attention to her.

Holding the necklace and feeling quite steamy in her private area, she stepped into the hallway. She pressed her thighs together and when she separated them, they were sticky with some kind of hot fluid that had moistened her inside. She swallowed her shock as her nipples thrust against her corset. What was happening to her?

Once again, she saw Coxe coming toward her. She must have strayed too far from the party for a second time. This time, instead of embarrassment at shirking her duties, she felt a hot flush of excitement. She folded her arms around herself and leaned against the wall.

Her face felt feverish and she licked her lips, thirsty despite the lemonade she had so recently finished.

“Are you well, Miss Rogers?” Coxe asked. She saw genuine emotion in his eyes, an unusual concern for her as she held up the necklace to him.

“Where did it come from?” he asked, touching the pearl drop at the end of the necklace’s center stones.

She watched with wonder as his entire body shuddered and when he looked at her again, his eyes were alight with the same kind of fever she was experiencing.

“The lady in red,” she whispered, “I saw it on her before.”

*****

About Anh Leod

Anh Leod, AKA Heather Hiestand, was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period, and she continues to return, fascinated by the rapid changes of the nineteenth century. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she has achieved best-seller status at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.

Social Media Links

Website: http://www.anhleod.com

Blog: http://heatherhiestand.com/blog/

Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/pages/Heather-HiestandAnh-Leod/24271017921?ref=br_tf

Twitter http://twitter.com/heatherhiestand

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

*****

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Books will also be available at barnesandnoble.com and iTunes (Apple), but buy links are not yet available for them.

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Mid Week Tease: She’d had no choice. It was this job or nothing. #MWTease

MWTease15Hi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease! Things are still completely chaotic here, so I apologise if I don’t get around to visiting the other posts. Here’s another snippet from my M/F May to December novella, Love Through a Lens, released recently. I hope you enjoy the snippet.

Love Through a LensShe’d had no choice. It was this job or nothing. Crap money or no money. And, most importantly, this credit on her CV or no credit at all. She knew she had to start racking the credits and references up soon, if she wanted to get ahead in the highly competitive field.

So here she was, dragging herself up a heart attack inducing hill in the wake of an actor-cum-presenter. At least the project was interesting; they were checking out sites of myths, legends and ghost stories, that kind of thing. Edward was nice, too—kind, polite and pretty funny. Even better, it wasn’t raining. Overall, things could be a damn sight worse. She could be working with animals or children—or even both. And she’d heard many times over that they were the absolute worst.

She was still convincing herself that things weren’t that bad after all, when she glanced up and came to an abrupt halt as she realized there was a crotch practically in her face. Snapping her head up so fast it made her neck hurt, she made eye contact with Edward, who was standing a couple of paces farther up the slope, hence the awkward face-to-crotch angle. Her already hot face blazed with embarrassment. For once, she hoped the fact she was overheated would hide her mortification. The slight breeze that blew was doing nothing to lower her temperature.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his blue-green eyes soft with concern. “I’m so sorry, you must think me incredibly rude. I honestly thought you were right behind me—you being a young thing and all that. It was only when you didn’t reply to me or answer any of my questions that I realized I’d inadvertently left you behind.”

Grab your copy of Love Through a Lens here: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/love-through-a-lens/

And add it to your Goodreads shelves here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29339082-love-through-a-lens

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!

Systematic Seduction (The Weathermen #9) by Ravenna Tate

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

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Biosystems engineer Blair Adams has worked for Oliver Fairchild, CEO of Fairchild BioSystems, for seven years. And for the past two years, she’s turned him down every single time he’s asked her out. Blair has more than one secret from her past she prays will stay hidden. If Oliver discovers them, she risks losing more than her heart to her charismatic, sexy boss.

Oliver is part of a group of friends financing the efforts to put a stop to The Madeline Project. The program now has a mind of its own, thanks to a virus called Tommy Twister. These men have power, resources, and money, but they’re as ruthless and possessive as the storms ravaging Earth.

They call themselves the Weathermen…

*****

EXCERPT

When Oliver returned he was barefoot, and she moaned softly. There was something so damn sexy about a barefoot man. He dumped a box of condoms and a bottle of lube on the table next to the sofa, and then he grinned in a way that had her pussy wet all over again.

“Now, I’m ready to make love to you.”

He kissed her again, rougher this time, but she didn’t mind at all. He was so fucking sexy in the way he moved his mouth over hers. When he released her mouth and planted kisses along her neck again, she pushed her body against his, desperate to be skin to skin.

Oliver pulled off her top, nuzzling his face between the cups in her bra. “This is very pretty, but it needs to go.” He unhooked it with one hand, forcing another soft moan from her at the expertise of his gesture, and then he pulled it off her and tossed it onto the floor. “I knew you’d be fucking exquisite. I just knew it.”

No one had ever called her body exquisite. Fat, yes. Lush, definitely. Curvy and full were both used alongside not so thinly veiled suggestions to lose a few pounds so she’d be healthier. But exquisite? Never.

“You’re so damn sexy.”

He grasped her breasts and teased the nipples with his teeth and tongue, taking turns, making such satisfied noises in the back of his throat that she was sure she’d cry from happiness. She’d never had this experience before. This worshipping of her body as though it was meant to be treasured, not merely taken and then made fun of, or picked apart and critiqued.

“Oliver, thank you.”

He looked into her eyes tenderly. “For what?”

“For being like this. For making me feel so … so wanted.”

He brushed a finger along her face, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, Blair. I do want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re beautiful. I mean that. It’s very hard right now to hold myself back. I’m dying here.”

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “So am I. In a good way, I mean. I’ve never been this turned on.”

His sweet, sexy smile sent fresh arousal racing through her. He licked her breasts again, paying attention this time to the undersides, and then he pushed her down until she was on her back, and peeled off her Capri pants, panties, and sandals. He sat back on his heels, his gaze traveling lazily over her, the same smile still on his face.

“Damn. You’re more beautiful than I pictured.” He took his dick out of his jeans and pulled on it. “I don’t know where to go first.”

Blair’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She watched him stroke his cock, mesmerized by the length and width of it. Red, swollen, and glistening with pre-cum already at the tip, it grew in his hand. She couldn’t stop staring at it. Oliver pleasuring himself this way, like he did it all the time in front of people, was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

When he released his dick, he moved his hands over her thighs, up and down, then gently spread her legs. He turned her torso toward the edge of the sofa and sat on the coffee table, his cock still free, and licked her inner thighs.

Blair cried out loudly, the desire climbing to crazy levels now. With each pass of his tongue, he moved closer to her labia, until he licked them, too. She whimpered softly as he teased the opening to her wetness with a finger, and when he slid it inside her pussy, she clamped down on it, trying to make herself come.

He made soft noises in the back of his throat as he licked her clit, over and over, while moving his finger in and out at the same time. “Oh, baby. You taste like heaven.”

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New magical, fantasy romance…with a twist from Sabrina York (@sabrina_york)

Read on for an exclusive excerpt and a chance to win the Wicked Enchantment Tiara

Wicked EnchantmentWicked Enchantment

By Sabrina York

Consigned to a magical prison, Sir Keeshan has suffered torment after torment for thousands of years. The curse of a powerful Djinn entombed him in the lamp, damning him to an eternity of pleasing the women who come to him—but never grasping true love. Every hundred years or so, a new woman comes to him and they are both are ensnared in a web of dark desire. And then, just as he grows to care for her, she is spirited away, back to the world. Such is the nature of his curse.

But when Aimalee arrives, Keeshan knows something is different. She is different. And his feelings for her are undeniable. He has no idea how long they will have together and, desperate to not waste a second of his time with her, Keeshan cannot help but indulge his every craving…and hers.

When the clever minx helps him solve a mystery that has been haunting him for ages, he can’t help but hope she may be the one to help him break the curse.

Hope is a dangerous thing in enchanted surrounds, especially because he knows her departure, when it comes, will destroy him.

Magical, fantasy romance…with a twist from Sabrina York

READ AN EXCERPT

Aimalee shivered as an unfamiliar inclination struck her. She wanted to drop the pillow and press her body against him. Rub against him. He was so beautiful. So perfect. She longed to touch him.

Of its own volition, her hand rose. At the last instant, just before their flesh connected, she curled her fingers.

He winced as she withdrew, winced as though she’d slapped him. Tiny tears clung to his lashes. “Please, Aimalee.” His voice was ragged. “Please touch me.”

She stepped away, ignoring the desolation sweeping across his countenance. It cost her but she forced those primal urges down, back into her subconscious where they belonged. Something wasn’t right here. Women didn’t just suddenly transport into sumptuous bowers. Gorgeous men with smoldering eyes didn’t simply appear from thin air. And most importantly, Aimalee didn’t have thoughts like this.

She never had.

She couldn’t give in to these cravings. Not until she understood what was happening to her. Her analytical mind would not allow it.

As though he could read her thoughts, a frown marred his sculpted brow in fascinating furrows. He stepped closer and closer still—though not close enough to touch. His breath was warm on her face. “Don’t fight it, Aimalee. You cannot resist. Please don’t try.” He bent closer and his nostrils flared like a stallion catching the scent of a filly in season. He licked his lips.

My but they were beautiful lips.

And my, oh my. He smelled of sandalwood and sin. The combination made her head spin. She desperately attempted to eradicate these errant thoughts. “Where am I? What happened?” More questions swirled but this was a good place to start.

“Please.” Beads of sweat dimpled his upper lip. Heat roiled from his broad chest. Everything about him was hard. “Not now. No questions now.” He whirled away with a growl, showing her his back, frustration clear in every rigid line. As he moved, the dim light glinted off the metal encircling his neck. Aimalee realized it was hewn of the same strange iridescent metal of the lamp.

Certainty dawned and with it a sense of incredulity. “I’m inside the lamp.”

He shot a glance at her over his hunched shoulder, a wounded animal. “Y-you touched it.”

“I’ve touched it many times before.”

“Many times.” A shudder racked him. He began to shiver, to shake. “But never with…never with…” Never with…what? He didn’t complete the thought, as though the words were too painful to utter. He moaned in agony and stumbled into the shadows.

She followed, racked with worry—he looked as though he was dying—and lightly touched his shoulder. He froze at the contact, sucking in a deep gasp of air, exhaling it on a small whimper. As their flesh connected, a sizzle shot up her arm, rocketing to her core. Something tight within her released.

And then she realized…the release hadn’t come from within her.

It had come from within him.

Invisible chains binding him shattered and fell away.

He straightened and stood. Sublime relief descended upon him like a cloud. “Thank you,” he gasped. “Thank you, Aimalee.” He drew his knuckles along the curve of her shoulder then trailed down her arm, sending riots of sensation through her. “You touched it with your bare hands, you see. And the lamp brought you to me,” he said, answering her earlier—long forgotten—question. He caressed her hand, lifted it to his lips then drew her thumb into his mouth and gently sucked.

Molten lava, deep in her core, churned and spat.

She knew she should not allow this. She knew she should pull away. The voice of sanity within her whispered as much. Trouble was, that voice of sanity was starting to recede. “W-why?” It was the only word she could manage. The only thought she could conjure.

He kissed her knuckles, one by one. “You are here for me, Aimalee. For this.” His scalding touch trailed back up her arm. She jerked in reaction but didn’t protest. Her body was heavy, drugged with desire. Her mind befuddled, rapt in it. Enthralled.

He tugged gently at the pillow she held before her. She watched in mute dismay as he tossed her armor carelessly aside. “God, Aimalee. You are even more beautiful in the flesh.”

Reverently, he cupped her breast. And then his head descended and those lips—those delicious lips—wrapped around a coral crest. Sucked. Pleasure rocked her. Exquisite trills danced along her spine. Tremors rippled through her womb.

But still…she resisted. As difficult as it was to fight against the alluring enchantment he was weaving—and it was difficult—she lurched back and gasped, “Who are you?”

Instead of answering, he scraped her nipple—sending spirals of delight coiling up her spine. Oh! It was getting harder and harder to resist him. Harder to focus on her outrage as he enticed her deeper into his web.

But she was not the only one besieged by temptation. His body was taut as a bowstring; he fairly hummed with the tension.

He pulled her into his arms. The shock of his hot skin against hers from chest to groin made her light-headed. He traced the line of her back from her buttocks to her shoulder blades.

“I am sorry, Aimalee,” he murmured, his tone limned with remorse. “But I cannot answer your questions anymore. I cannot wait. It has been far too long.” He lifted her hair and bent to place a gentle kiss on her nape. With his tongue, his velvet, drugging tongue, he traced a strange and sinuous symbol there.

A peculiar warmth blossomed where he’d licked her. It drifted down her arms, across her chest, infused her body and soul. Her nipples tightened. Her body liquefied. A hot rush of arousal seeped from her womb. Her clitoris throbbed and a scorching hunger growled and snapped like a long-caged beast.

She wanted him.

She wanted him like she had never wanted a man before. Savagely.

She ached to fist her fingers in his hair and drag him down on top of her. To take his lips with her own. Suck on his tongue. Consume him. Grind against that magnificent cock until he howled with need. Until he took her. Fucked her. Impaled her.

Her mind reeled with pleasure and passion…and confusion.

What was this?

This was not like her.

Not like her at all.

Hadn’t Carter told her repeatedly that she was frigid?

She had never wanted like this. Ached like this. Needed like this.

“What are you doing to me?” Even to her own ears, the cry was laced with pleasure, desire, delirium. She placed her palm flat on his chest to push him away but at that touch, passion swelled—the passion in her and the passion in him, tangling, twining. His skin was smooth but his hard muscles bunched beneath her touch.

He threw his head back and groaned in ecstasy. Or perhaps agony. Or both.

“I can’t. I need… I want to…” He hissed through his teeth. “But I cannot wait. I cannot.”

Easing her down onto the cushions, he covered her. The sensation of his hot, sweat-dampened skin against hers sent a shock wave through her. He nudged her legs apart. Neared. She writhed beneath him, eager, wanton, lost in wonder. Ravenous for him. Impatient.

He did not make her wait.

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*****

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 & snarky to scorching romance.  Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bj8tKb.

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*****

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My Sexy Saturday #107 – Celine gritted her teeth and hung tightly onto the straps of her backpack… #MySexySaturday

My Sexy Saturday

Welcome back to My Sexy Saturday! This is where writers post either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from their published work or work in progress. Things are still utterly chaotic here, so I apologise if I don’t get around to visiting the other posts. I’m changing books now, and will be sharing from my M/F May to December erotic romance novella, Love Through a Lens, for a little while at least.

Love Through a LensCeline gritted her teeth and hung tightly onto the straps of her backpack as she forced one foot in front of the other up the steep incline. Her heart felt like it was going to explode from her chest, and her lungs screamed with the effort of providing her oxygen supply. Really, she needed to stop, to catch her breath, regain some equilibrium. But Edward was already way ahead of her, striding powerfully along as though their chosen path were perfectly flat. He had a huge backpack of his own, too, which didn’t seem to be slowing him down a jot.

But then, this was the difference between the two of them—or one of the differences, anyway. Edward Robson, mid-list British actor, was also a very keen outdoorsman, and probably did these kinds of walks all the time—with or without a camera being pointed at him.

Buy your copy of Love Through a Lens here: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/love-through-a-lens/

Add to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29339082-love-through-a-lens

Please use the list below to head on over to the other blogs participating in My Sexy Saturday, and don’t forget to leave us all comments, we love ’em!

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Be Mine (Love With A Price #3) by N.J. Young (@NeilaRocks)

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Today is the release day for Be Mine (Love With A Price, Book 3). Dylan may just be my favorite hero so far. He’s a veterinarian, and I can’t resist a man who has a soft spot for animals. I hope you enjoy the love story of Dylan and Carly as much as I enjoyed writing it! See below for an excerpt, as well as links to read excerpts from the first two books in the series.

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Be Mine (Love With A Price, Book 3)

By: N.J. Young
Genres: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, BDSM
Triggers: Light Bondage, Spanking
Release Date: March 2, 2016
Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Blurb

After a bad breakup, Dylan Price is ready to give up on love. That is, until Carly Peters walks through the door of his veterinary clinic on a stormy night. Even though she’s drenched and holding an angry, pregnant cat, Dylan can’t stop the thrill of excitement he feels when Carly looks at him. Could she be the one? Or is she just after Dylan for his money?

When Carly Peters comes back to Oakville to help her mom run the local animal shelter, the last thing on her mind is falling in love, especially with the town vet. But no one told her Dr. Dylan Price was a gorgeous ball of sexy. And she certainly wasn’t expecting him to tug on her heart. Can she convince Dylan to take a chance on her? And will she be able to truly fall for a man who doesn’t trust her?

 

Purchase Links

Amazon | Evernight Publishing | All Romance eBooks | BookStrand

 

Excerpt

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She ran her fingers through her cat’s soft fur, shooting a glance at Dylan, who stood at the counter. She hadn’t seen him since high school, and the years sure had been good to him. He wore a lab coat over a rumpled blue button-down shirt and a pair of worn jeans. Carly found herself itching to slide the lab coat off his shoulders so she could get a better look at his physique. His apparel did nothing to hide the fact that he was perfectly cut, but she wanted to see for herself. She wanted to slide her hands down his arms and feel the muscles there. She thought of her arms circling around his waist and tilting her head up for his kiss as she cupped his muscular backside.

Suddenly Dylan turned to her, and she realized she’d been staring at him. He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

Blushing furiously, she turned back to her cat. “No, nothing,” she mumbled, but her pink parts were throbbing with need. Damn, she needed to get laid.

Wow, when has that thought ever crossed my mind? She’d finally given in and had sex with her one serious college boyfriend, then wondered what all the fuss was about. Somehow, she’d bet Dylan could show her what it was about.

When he walked slowly toward her, she realized she’d been staring at him again. She stood up straight and faced him, expecting him to stop within a couple of feet of her. But then she noticed his expression—his hooded eyes, his parted lips—and her heart sped up.

Dylan backed her up against an empty cage, not touching her, but standing so close he trapped her nonetheless. “Carls, I’m trying to be a good boy, but it’s very hard when you keep looking at me like that.”

She almost giggled at the double-entendre. Yes, sometimes she had the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy.

Dylan smirked and raised one dark eyebrow, immediately catching her meaning. Her smile quickly disappeared as he pressed his lower half to hers. She gasped as she felt his erection. My God, he must have a monster in his pants. She lifted her hands, thinking she should push him away, but instead she fisted his shirt, pulling him closer. When he bent his head to kiss her, she let her eyes float shut.

His lips had barely brushed hers when…

Stalk N.J. Young on the Web

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Read more here about A Hero Inside (Love With A Price, Book 1)

 

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Read more about One Sweet Taste (Love With A Price, Book 2)

 

NJ Young Square Crop Watermark on bottom SMAbout N.J. Young

N.J. Young has been a writer since she was old enough to hold a pencil. After realizing the trials of corporate America weren’t for her, she decided to leave that world behind and pursue her true dream of writing.

Instead of spending her days writing sexy texts to her husband and engaging in “that’s what she said” jokes, she took that energy and poured it into her books. Sprinkle in a couple of hot guys, a little suspense, and a few sexual fantasies, and her first book was born. She now spends her days drinking coffee at her computer, while diving into the adventures of the imaginary friends who live in her novels.

N.J. Young was born and raised in the Midwest, and currently resides in the Kansas City area with her husband, two children, and a menagerie of animals. When she’s not writing, she enjoys horror movies, live music, cooking, and telling her kids why they can’t read mommy’s books.