Do you enjoy LGBTQIA+ fiction? If you do, then today’s your lucky day! Welcome to the Queer Your Bookshelf festival, when you can get literally hundreds of queer titles in a wide range of genres for only 99 cents each!
To browse and buy, go to: https://bit.ly/queeryourbookshelf
(https://www.hudsonlin.com/queeryourbookshelf)
The landing page has search capabilities as well as groupings by theme and genre.
I have two FF books on sale: The Witches of Gloucester and By Moonlight. Click on the titles above to be taken to pages with all buy links.
Many of my author friends, including Kayelle Allen, Adriana Kraft and Lil De Ville, are also participating.
I have a passionate excerpt from my historical romance By Moonlight, to get you in the mood...
Don’t miss this opportunity to cram your e-reader with LGBTQ literature! Today only!
Warmed by lush memory, Bess kept her solitary vigil in the chill October night. The moon sank lower. The stars paled. Yet still that ribbon of darkness remained empty. Had Kit been captured? Or injured? Could her beloved even now be lying in a ditch, chest sliced open by some poxy lord’s dagger?
Bess had stopped believing in God when the fever took her mother, but she prayed anyway.
She must have drowsed, despite her determination to remain on guard. She heard no hoof beats clattering in the inn yard, no tapping on the barred shutters, only a soft whistle under her window that had her instantly alert.
She leaned out, her hair spilling over the casement. “Kit!” she cried, heedless of anyone hearing. “You’ve come at last.”
“Well met, my fair lady.” The lithe figure below gave a little bow. “Did you doubt me?”
“No doubt, my love, only fear. Your fame has spread wide. There be many who’d delight in spilling your blood.”
“Even more after tonight, I’ll wager. I’ve had rich takings along the high road. A fat, dyspeptic earl and his broomstick wife contributed generously to my cause.”
“Lord Haverstock? Oh Kit, he has the King’s ear.” She shrank back into the shadows of her bedroom, then peered anxiously into the distance. She almost expected to see His Majesty’s troops mustering on the country lane. “Why must you take such risks?”
Kit chuckled. “Without risk, life wouldn’t be worth living.” The bandit grasped the gnarled ivy vines that clung to the old inn and clambered up to the second floor. In moments, Bess was face to face with her beloved.
What was her Kit thinking, to ride in such finery against the wealthy and powerful? The coat was burgundy velvet, worn over a pure white linen shirt with a ruffle of lace at the throat. Supple doe-skin boots rose half-way up those strong thighs. The jeweled hilt of a dagger glittered at Kit’s waist. The hungry light in the bandit’s eyes burned brighter still.
“Oh, Bess, how I’ve missed you!” Kit seized her, crushing her against the velvet, and captured her mouth. Bess pressed her soft body against her lover’s harder form, savoring the heady mixture of familiar comfort and forbidden arousal she always felt in Kit’s arms. A brazen tongue ravaged her mouth while knowing hands slipped under her shift to palm her buttocks and pull her closer still.
“Take this off, girl, before I rip it from your limbs,” Kit gasped, tugging at the fabric that hid her flesh. “I cannot wait another instant.”
Not so long ago she’d been a bashful virgin, but there was no shyness in her now. She pulled the garment over her head and tossed it onto the chair, shaking her long hair free. Moonlight from the window made her pale skin glow. Kit’s eyes roamed over her nakedness. She’d never felt so beautiful, or so needy. “Now you,” she urged. She reached for the brass buttons, fumbling in her eagerness.
Kit chuckled. “Little minx! You’ll be all night at that.” In the space of a few breaths, the showy waistcoat and soft breeches lay crumpled atop the boots. Barefoot, Kit stood with hands on hips and legs sturdily apart, wearing nothing but the long, loose, ruffled shirt. The white linen was startling against sun-darkened flesh. The gallant intruder flashed a saucy grin.
“Pray do not tease!” Bess moaned. “’Twill be morning all too soon.” She settled onto the bed and spread her legs to release a flood of her scent. “Please, my love.”
The outlaw slipped out of the shirt and discarded it with her other clothing. Kit’s small, firm breasts were tipped with earth-colored nipples as tight and hard as Bess’s own. Moisture beaded the triangle of amber-hued curls that nestled between her lean thighs.
Still, the older woman held back for a moment. Perhaps she was enjoying the sight of the formerly chaste innkeeper’s daughter turned wanton, writhing upon the sheets and exposing her wet cunny.
Bess didn’t care how she looked. “Kiss me,” she pleaded. “Touch me, Kit, before I die of longing.”
“I have made a lascivious monster of you,” said the highwayman as she crouched between Bess’s sprawled thighs.
“Your monster, my love—oh! Oh yes!”
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