Thursday, March 23, 2017

Sneak Peek: Sheik's Rule by @RyshiaKennie (#romantic #suspense #giveaway)

Sheik's Rule cover


His sister's life is at stake, and despite his wealth and power, Sheik Emir Al-Nassar feels helpless. At least heading his family's security agency provides him with resources to track down her kidnappers. But when the ace profiler he's sent turns out to be K. J.—Kate—Gelinsky, Emir is furious. Finding the kidnappers' desert hideout is dangerous enough without the distraction of a beautiful woman.

But K.J. is unlike any woman he's ever known. Her fearlessness and incisive mind inspires Emir's admiration. And her compassion breaches his guarded heart. Still, rescuing his sister is a perilous mission. And allowing desire to cloud his focus could endanger them all.


Just looking at that hand confirmed every doubt he had. It wasn’t just about customs, she was female and because of that and so many other things, she was the wrong person for the job.

I’ll help you find your sister. You just need to trust me.”

No!” The word came out with the pent-up fury that had built since the fateful call from Tara’s kidnappers and now the full impact of it sparked in his eyes as his temple pounded and his fists clenched.

No,” he said with less edge but with no room for negotiation. He was wasting time, had wasted time, first waiting and now in a senseless airport run. “I don’t care what you specialized in. You’re a woman and because of that you’re going home,” he said bluntly. “I’ve wasted enough time. I’ll speak to the pilot and we’ll get you out of here.”

You’re not being fair.”

I’m not being fair,” he repeated, emphasizing each word. If she’d been a man he would have had her by the collar up against the wall, his face in hers. But she wasn’t and that was the problem. “You’re useless to me. I’d have to watch out for both you and me. That’s a distraction. Look at you – you couldn’t swing a punch or…”

One minute he was seething, glaring at her, and the next he was flat on his back.

You bloody flipped me,” he snarled, leaping to his feet.

About Me

The Canadian prairies are my home and while the prairie landscape is blessed with beautiful blue skies, it also has four seasons that come on full throttle – especially winter and because of that I like to travel. Often on those trips, stories are born.

In 2011 I won my city's writing award, and was the first romance writer to do so since its inception. In 2013 my romantic suspense was a semi-finalist in the Kindle Book Awards. Published in historic romance and paranormal romance as well as romantic suspense, in February 2016, my first novel was published by Harlequin Intrigue.

There’s no lack of places to set a story as my imagination and the too long prairie winters may find me seeking adventure. The memories of those worlds both near and far, the words of a stranger, the furtive look one man gives another, often become the catalyst for a suspenseful story with a deadly villain and an intrepid hero and heroine who must battle for their right to love or even their right to live.

When not dreaming of other stories, I can be found scouting out a garage sale or two, dusting off my roller blades or just thinking about the next adventure that may be miles away or in my own backyard.

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Wednesday, March 22, 2017

My Not-So-Evil Day Job (#work #passion #amwriting)

Business woman image

I complain a lot. Anyone who's been in touch with me lately has heard about how I'm busier this term than I've ever been; how I'm teaching two brand new courses and don't have time to breathe with all the preparation, let alone write; how I leave at 9:00 AM and don't get home until 9:30 PM some nights; how I feel like Alice in Through the Looking Glass- I have to run as fast as I can just to stay in one place.

You might assume, listening to me, that I hate my work and would rather be writing every day. Indeed, for many writers, that's the ideal: to make enough money from book sales that you can quite your ordinary, boring day job and write full time.

Honestly, I don't feel that way. Perhaps that suggests that I'm not a “serious” writer. So be it. Despite the stress I sometimes feel – especially when I try to balance the demands of writing and marketing with the requirements of my public profession – I'd never want to give up my “real world” job.

My work requires a huge investment of time and energy, but it also provides great rewards. I don't mean financial rewards – I make just enough to meet my needs – but I've never aspired to wealth . I'm talking about less tangible benefits: the opportunity to be creative, the freedom to try new approaches, the respect of my colleagues and (sometimes, at least) my students, the satisfaction that comes from knowing that I've been a positive influence on the lives of at least a few young people every year. I also enjoy the fact that I'm able to use my long years of study and experience in positive and productive ways. And finally, my day job is just plain fun.

Writing is fun too, of course. I wouldn't do it if I didn't enjoy it. (I think the secret of happiness may be to only do what you enjoy, or conversely, to enjoy whatever you do.) One reason I don't have much of a desire to make my living off my writing is that I suspect that might kill the joy. If I were forced to write, day after day, I strongly suspect that the stress would leach away any creativity I can claim now.

I believe that I could support myself, at least at a basic level, by writing erotic romance or BDSM smut. I think I know what sells, and I could churn that out if I had to. I write quickly and my first drafts are generally in a lot better shape than many authors. I could put out one or two 15-20K novellas a month, if I had to.

I really would rather not. In fact, I find myself deliberately choosing to write genres and styles that don't sell as well, out of a kind of perversity, I guess. My M/M books have outsold anything else I've written, by several times. I find myself shying away from writing more because I don't want to make money my object.

Plus I hate stress. I can function when the chips are down. I can make tight deadlines if I have to. But the pressure takes its toll, draining me of psychic energy and basically making me miserable. Yes, my day job is stressful, too, but it provides enough variety to keep me excited. It also includes natural breaks, for midterm and final exams, vacation periods and so on. If I were writing full time, none of that would be true. I know authors who support themselves with their work, and you really can't take much of a break. You have to produce that three or four or five thousand words per day, rain or shine, in sickness and in health, or you'll fall behind. You'll miss deadlines. You'll lose readers.

My husband tells me that much of the stress is of my own making. I think there's some truth in that. Probably I need to learn how to say no. Maybe my unwillingness to refuse requests can be traced back to my submissive nature. Hard to say!

In any case, I'm not a wage slave. I'm not oppressed by my employer. I work long hours, but not at some repetitive, meaningless occupation. I'm incredibly lucky.

I tell my students that money will not make them happy. The first key to happiness (according to what I've learned in more than six decades of life on earth) is having a partner whom you love and whose company you enjoy. The second key, almost as important, is finding work that feeds your soul, work that ignites your passion. I'm fortunate to have succeeded in both these areas. Really, I have no right at all to complain.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Review Tuesday: Hard Rhythm by @CeciliaTan (#review #rockstar #kink)

HardRhythm cover

Hard Rhythm by Cecilia Tan
Forever – Hachette Group, 2017

Madison Rofel knows her way around a dungeon. A kink club hostess and a sex toy blogger, she’s red-haired and voluptuous, quick-witted and sharp-tongued, ready to top or bottom as the occasion requires. Certainly she’s never been the type to fall at a man’s feet. She’s curious about Chino Garcia, the heavily-inked drummer for rock band The Rough, but she finds his cocky self-confidence annoying. So when he saunters into The Governor’s Club and challenges her to an endurance contest involving a studded leather paddle, she jumps at the chance to put him in his place.

Chino’s had his eye on Madison for a while. His band mates Axel and Mal are coupled with the club’s owners, Ricki and Gwen Hamilton, but Chino’s always been a bit of a loner. His easy smile hides the pain of his difficult past. Being with Madison, though, somehow makes him feel comfortable and in control.

Hard Rhythm is the third volume in Cecilia Tan’s Secrets of a Rock Stars series. As soon as the novel was released, I badgered the publisher for a review copy, because I enjoyed the first two books so much.

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of erotic fiction involving power exchange. I know of few authors who can capture the complex dynamics of a D/s relationship with the skill of Cecilia Tan. She writes with subtlety and insight, revealing important truths about BDSM. Each kinky relationship is as different as the individuals involved. Honest communication is the key to making BDSM work. And when it does work, there’s nothing hotter—or more profound.

The novel kicks off with an intensely arousing scene between Madison and Chino, and doesn’t let up. Vibrators and sex videos, play parties at secluded bungalows, bondage, spankings, blindfolds and mind games—if you’re looking for erotic excitement, you will not be disappointed by Hard Rhythm. At the same time, this book is a convincing and satisfying romance. All the sexual experimentation flows from the protagonists’ efforts to know one another. They’re drawn to one another but despite their undeniable chemistry, each has trouble being truly open.

The conflicts keeping Madison and Chino apart aren’t as dramatic as the obstacles faced by Gwen and Mal in the previous book (Wild Licks). The emotional highs and lows are not as extreme. The kink is gentler, too. Chino’s a Dom, but not a dedicated sadist, and Maddie’s not your typical slave. I loved watching them discover the unique shape of their personal D/s connection. The message comes through loud and clear. Nobody can tell you what it means to be kinky. You have to find that out by yourself, with the right partnersomeone you can trust.

One complaint sometimes leveled at BDSM by the uninitiated is that it’s nothing more than thinly disguised abuse. Hard Rhythm confronts this belief head on by showing readers what a real abusive relationship looks like—a stark contrast to Chino’s and Maddie’s loving, consensual kink.

There are lots of reasons to read this book: for arousal, for the romance, to appreciate Ms. Tan’s adeptness with words and images. But there’s also a powerful message here. Readers whose main acquaintance with BDSM is through FSOG will find Hard Rhythm something of an education.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Sneak Peek: An Interesting Find by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 #menage #mmm #gay)

An Interesting Find cover


Nathan and Lee are on a relaxing summer holiday in the UK. They plan to do lots of walking and exploring in the beautiful English countryside. Naturally, typical British weather derails their plans on their first day, leaving them cooped up indoors with little to do but read.

When the weather clears, the men eagerly put on their hiking boots and head out for a walk. However, when they reach their destination—a pond a little distance from their holiday cottage—they make a shocking discovery. An odd-looking bundle of rags turns out to be an unconscious man. With no one else around, and no mobile phone signal to call for help, they manage to get the stranger back to their cottage to get him warm and dry, and figure out what to do next.

When their unexpected house guest regains consciousness, however, things just get more complicated. The stranger—a British soldier called Jonny—doesn’t want the authorities to be notified of his presence. As the three men try to come to some agreement, the sexual tension in the air becomes apparent, and suddenly the last thing on any of their minds is leaving the cottage…


Closing his book with a very final slap, Nathan then put it on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. Stretching languidly, he said, “Bloody good, that was. Though, admittedly, I thought it’d last me all week. Wasn’t expecting to get through it on day one.”

Raising an eyebrow, Lee shot Nathan an amused glance. “Not far off myself. Fucking storm. Stupid us, eh, going on holiday in the UK in summertime—not like you can guarantee the sodding weather, is it? Should’ve gone to the Canaries.”

No, we can’t guarantee the weather, but…” Nathan gave the window a sidelong glance, “I do have some good news.”


Yeah. The torrential downpour has stopped.”

Seriously?” Lee slammed his own book closed and scurried over to the window. “Oh, wow, it’s cleared right up, and I can see a rainbow. Wanna head out? Just a little wander down to that pond we saw on the way here, maybe? Get some fresh air. We’ve got loads of daylight left, haven’t we?”

Nathan checked his watch. “Yeah, plenty. Especially if we’re only nipping to the pond. It’s probably only a fifteen-minute walk.”

Fantastic. I was going a bit fucking stir crazy in here. I’ll grab our coats and shoes.”

Lee had disappeared into the hallway of their rented holiday cottage before Nathan had the chance to reply. Shaking his head with a smile, Nathan collected their empty mugs from the coffee table and took them into the kitchen, then got a bottle of water from the fridge. He doubted they’d need a drink during their short trek along the road, but he could just shove the bottle in his coat pocket and forget about it. At least it’d be there if they wanted it.

When he returned to the living room, Lee was just about to tie up his laces.

I got water,” Nathan said, brandishing the bottle.

Cool. Shoes are there.” He nodded to the chair Nathan had been sitting in. Sure enough, his trail shoes were waiting on the floor in front of it.


Within a few minutes, they were headed out of the door. Nathan locked up, pocketed the key, then checked the handle. He doubted very much the place would get broken into—they were in the middle of nowhere, after all. There were farms nearby, but the closest village was about a mile and a half away. So any thieves would have to make a considerable effort to get to the cottage in the first place, never mind attempt to break into it. Rolling his eyes at his own paranoia, he turned and followed Lee, who’d already started walking slowly along the road in the direction of the pond.

After falling into step beside Lee, Nathan pulled in some deep breaths, enjoying the fresh air after being cooped up in the cottage. It was a beautiful and cozy place, but it was supposed to be a base for them to go walking—somewhere for them to eat, sleep and shower, not to be stuck in for hours on end, staring at the walls. Or climbing them.

He admired the rainbow as they walked, its vivid colors painted across the watery sky. It seemed the clouds had literally exhausted themselves—only occasional wispy streaks of white now interrupted the never-ending blue. The sun beamed down, heating up the ground and beginning to evaporate the huge puddles. It would take some doing—one such puddle stretched across the width of the road, and they had to skirt around its edge to avoid getting wet feet.

Nathan smiled. Though the storm itself had been grim, the washed-out aftermath made everything feel fresh, clean somehow.

You look thoughtful,” Lee said, breaking into his reverie. “A penny for them?”

Mmm. It’s one of those things that sounds better in your head than said out loud.”

Try me.”

Shrugging, Nathan replied. “Nothing major. Just admiring the rainbow, the sky, the clouds… Thinking how everything looks so fresh and clean after a good storm. Like it’s been purified, or something… Ugh, it’s stupid.”

Lee stopped and reached for Nathan’s hand. His green eyes were wide and filled with wonder. “No, it isn’t. Not at all—I was thinking something similar myself. It’s kinda romantic, isn’t it? Purification, rebirth, and all that.”

In a roundabout way, maybe. I dunno.” He shrugged again.

Lee’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curved into a wicked grin. “We could make it romantic.”

How so?”

Come here, and I’ll show you.” Still gripping Nathan’s hand, Lee tugged him close and moved in for a kiss. Nathan went into the embrace willingly, the smile on his face soon smothered by Lee’s hot lips.

Buy links

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About the Author

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of 100 Modern Erotic Classics That Youve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Cafés Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at:

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Smut Sunday - Her Secret Ingredient (#humor #cooking #smutsunday)

Smut Sunday button

I had put together a brief but steamy Sunday Snog for today. Then I discovered that Victoria Blisse has officially ended the Sunday Snog series and started a new meme - Smut Sunday.

Oh well... this excerpt should qualify! It's from my short story Her SecretIngredient. This is the prequel to my full-length BDSM menage novel, The Ingredients of Bliss.

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion.

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei LeeEmilyWong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is sceptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily cant help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emilys show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etiennes consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he cant do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting M Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career foreveruntil Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

When you're done with my offering, head over to the Smut Sunday page for more lovely smut! 

Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing—and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his glutes flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.

I’d never doubt my grandmother again.

His mouth returned to mine for a reprise of that breath-stealing kiss then he licked his way along my collarbone and burrowed into the valley between my breasts. Without removing his hand from between my thighs, he somehow managed to drag our tangled bodies down to the kitchen floor.

The feel of unyielding ceramic tile under my back brought back a moment of sanity.

Harry—wait! Stop!” Here we were writhing half-naked, in public, on the studio kitchen floor. Anyone could walk in—Roth, or Marty, or heaven help me, Etienne himself! It must be close to his appointed time for sampling my creations and I’d bet my Cordon Bleu diploma that Etienne was never late.

Terror flashed through me, momentarily eclipsing my lust. “We can’t do this, not here, not now…”

Harry replied with an inarticulate grunt, parted my thighs and dove between them to press his mouth against my silk-covered mound. His hot breath had me boiling in an instant. I grabbed his head to pull him closer and I heard a chuckle, smothered by my moist pubis. The vibrations sang through me, kicking off a minor explosion of pleasure that left me panting and limp.

Harry profited from my temporary immobility by stripping off my drenched panties and applying his tongue directly to my wet, aching pussy. He lapped along my cleft, down to my rear hole then back again, finishing with a flick to the swollen bead at the apex. I shuddered under him, hauled to the edge of another climax by his talented mouth. He obviously knew exactly what he was doing. Pursing his lips around my clit and sucking hard, he sent me tumbling over the cliff and into ecstasy.