Claim your Halloween treat! #FreeBooks #Magic #Halloweeen

Image by Rebecca Plett from Pixabay

It’s finally Halloween... and I’m celebrating by giving free books to anyone who asks.

Over at the Sweet N’ Sexy Divas blog (where I’m the featured author today), I am showcasing four of my titles, all of which feature at least one Halloween scene. You can have whichever one you want, completely free.

Just go here for covers, blurbs and detailed instructions:

https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/2024/10/halloween-treats-for-everyone-freebooks.html

Don’t miss this chance!

Meanwhile, to entertain you here, I have an excerpt from yet another paranormal title, Fourth World.

Blurb

Enter the fourth world - a world of lust and shadows, where anything can happen.

Obsessive passion and dark ecstasy mark these nine stories of paranormal desire. An undead couple hunts for beauty and youth in the history-drenched streets of Prague. A sex addict meets his fate in the embrace of a seductive monster. An innocent writer offers her body and heart to a century-old ghost. A spiritual seeker succumbs to temptation in the arms of a fearsome and greedy goddess. A kinky, blood-drenched threesome unfolds in a luxurious Bangkok penthouse. These tales conjure the magic of sex, and its dangers. Expect to be unbearably aroused and occasionally terrified. Do not expect happily ever afters.

Excerpt from “Prey”

I don’t like to think of them as prey. That feels too cold-blooded. Juliana says that I’m sentimental, but after all, we rarely take their lives. They surrender to us their youth, their vitality, their beauty, a few memories. In return, we gift them with a taste of ecstasy, even if they will recall it only dimly. That, and a lingering darkness. For the rest of their short days, they bear the mark of our touch on their souls.

No, I prefer to consider them as pets, or perhaps as toys. We do, indeed, discard them when we become bored. How many have we lured, over the centuries? I cannot count. Indeed, it disturbs me to think about this, for I cannot summon the face of a single one.

We will hunt tonight. I stand at the arching windows of our flat, watching dusk paint the Vltava in a thousand shades of gray. Across the river, the spires of the castle rise in graceful silhouette against mauve banks of cloud. In the background, Juliana plays Lizst. Her fiery restlessness is apparent in the music. She doesn’t want to wait any longer.

Long ago, we learned to sate our physical hunger with the blood of dumb beasts. Yet this was not enough. Gradually we came to realize that we could not survive without tasting the fascination and the fear of human victims. We need their rosy, yielding flesh, their scents of musk and salt, their quickened breathing. We crave the worship we see in their eyes, their willingness—no, eagerness—to surrender their entire selves to our unearthly beauty and power.

We are addicted to the drug of humanity. I find this both ironic and somehow satisfying, this understanding that regardless of our invulnerability and near-omnipotence, our destinies are inextricably entwined with those of mortals. I sometimes wonder if God is likewise dependent on man (or vampire). Do we provide the same validation for His existence? Do we assuage the same kind of lust?

Juliana tells me that I am too philosophical.

She is here now, her piano abandoned, gazing out with me at the darkening world. Her jet hair is swept away from her ivory brow. Her ripe lips look already bloodied. Her fitted costume of scarlet velvet transforms her voluptuousness into stylish elegance. She slips her cool hand into mine; her long fingernails graze my palm. She stands statue-still as the true night envelopes the city, but I sense her impatience. Nevertheless, she waits for me to make the decision.

I am, as always, somehow reluctant. My cravings are as strong as hers, I’m sure, but I try to deny them as long as possible. I don’t think that it is guilt or shame that holds me back. Rather, I want the desire to build to a state of fever, of delirium, to the point where, uncontrollable and irrevocable, it obliterates the feeble rustlings of thought.

I am close to that point now.

Juliana raises her bottomless eyes to mine and parts her lips in invitation. When I kiss her, I feel her shimmering pleasure in my own body, heat that warms even our deathly chill. My cock stirs, waking from a long sleep.

“My love,” I murmur after an endless drink from her mouth. “Let us go.”

Buy links at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/fourthworldbook.html

Be sure to claim your free Halloween book! Go here for more information.

https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/2024/10/halloween-treats-for-everyone-freebooks.html

 

“Give me your body. Give me your soul.” #ParanormalEroticRomance #Halloween #MFRWHooks

Tomorrow is Halloween! For today’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop, I have an excerpt from my paranormal erotic romance Damned If You Do, which reaches its climax on Halloween, as the Devil comes to claim my heroine’s soul at the lavish release party for her best-selling novel...

Blurb

Sometimes romance can be hell

Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can't get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can't afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.

The Halloween Hook

“No!” Somehow she found the strength to wrench herself from his grip. She backed away, into the corner where the rail made a right angle. “Get away from me!”

Mister B put his hands on his hips and shook his head, his expression one of wounded disbelief. “I’m surprised at you. After all we’ve been through together, you reject me? Do you really want to give it all up? The adoring fans? The five star reviews? The fat advances and the hefty royalties?”

“Um…no, no, that’s not what I’m saying…” Panic swept through her. To lose everything she’d worked for? Unthinkable. At the same time, she couldn’t bear to have him touch her.

“Make up your mind, Gwen.” With each step he took in her direction, he seemed to grow taller. “It’s almost midnight.”

She cowered against the balustrade as he came closer, her mind whirling with contradictory desires. Alcohol, fear, and lust combined to muddle her thoughts.

Now he loomed over her, his teeth bared, his face a horrible, leering mask. A whiff of sulfur burned her nostrils. “Don’t resist me, woman. Give me your body. Give me your soul!”

He reached for her with taloned fingers. She stumbled, tripped by the panties he’d pulled halfway down her thighs, and fell against the pane of glass that extended from the railing to the balcony floor. Impossibly, the glass shattered into a million shards. All at once she was teetering on the edge, her frantic grip on the cold steel the only thing keeping her from an endless, deadly fall.

“Get back!” she screamed. “If you touch me, I’ll jump!”

He released a chilling laugh. A sudden, frigid wind whipped her hair into her eyes and numbed her fingers. “That will work, too. Suicides are automatically mine.”

“Leave me alone! Please…”

“You can send me away. All you have to do is say the words. But you won’t. I know you won’t. Because in fact, Gwen, you’ve already relinquished your soul.”

The wind howled in her ears. She scarcely heard it. An awful quiet crept over her. She realized, all at once, that he’d spoken the truth. In her single-minded pursuit of fame, she’d willingly jettisoned her friends and neglected her family. Blinded by the sparkle of wealth, she’d bulldozed over everything and everyone that blocked her path. She’d chosen commercial success over art, manipulation over sincerity, shallow pleasure over love. She’d become, as Daniel had accused, a cold bitch who cared about nothing but herself.

No wonder she felt so empty.

Let go. She knew that voice, insinuating itself into her thoughts, soft and persuasive. It will be easy. Just release the rail and it will all go away.

So tempting. So rational. Erase the guilt by erasing her morally bankrupt self.

The air stilled and grew warm again, more like April than October. The melancholy wail of a siren reached her from far, far below. It called to her.

Think how your fans will mourn you. Posthumous sales will push you way past E.L.James…

“Wendy! Hold on!”

Someone called out, someone she’d known long ago…it took several breaths for her to recognize the voice as Daniel’s.

She opened her eyes, blinking away tears caused by the wind. Her agent stood framed in the penthouse doorway. The brightness behind him made it difficult to see his expression, but she heard the terror and concern in his tone.

“Go away, little man!” Mister B flicked his long fingers in Daniel’s direction.

Wendy half-expected her friend to vanish. Instead he stepped onto the balcony, pushed his way past the hulking demon, and rushed in her direction. He clamped his hands around her waist and dragged her back from the edge, onto the glass-strewn floor. “Are you hurt, love?” He smoothed her hair away from her eyes and cupped her cheek, then scanned her body. No doubt he noticed the underwear tangled around her legs and the livid hickey below her ear. “Did he hurt you?”

“Get away from her!” Mister B grabbed Dan by the collar and tossed him into the opposite corner as though he weighed nothing. “She belongs to me!”

Dan’s body slammed into the barrier across from her. The glass groaned with the force of the impact, but did not break. He slumped against the wall in a motionless heap.

“Dan!” she screamed, struggling to her feet and heading toward her agent’s inert form. “Daniel—Sir! My love…”

Buy Links (Ebook)

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/713-damned-if-you-do/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damned-if-you-do-lisabet-sarai/1126292735?ean=2940165738319

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1124531

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/damned-if-you-do-12

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35009284-damned-if-you-do

Buy Links (Audio)

Narrated by Audrey Lusk

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Damned-If-You-Do/dp/B078NC1MGN/

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Erotica-Sexuality/Damned-If-You-Do-Audiobook/B078NC27YX/

Don’t forget to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

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A license to be a parent? #FamilyFiction #Satire #Giveaway

By Riya Aarini (Guest Blogger)

Lisabet:

Today I’m hosting author Riya Aarini, who is touring with her new novel Licensed to Rear. The basic premise is a world in which you need to be officially qualified in order to become a parent. I asked Riya to tell us about the inspiration for this original tale.

Riya:

Many children are fortunate to have supportive parents who build them up, encourage their growth, allow them to flourish and, in short, help them become happy, productive human beings. No parent is perfect, but quite a large number of parents are well-intentioned.

But that’s not the case for all parents.

With books like A Child Called It: One Child’s Courage to Survive by Dave Pelzer and stories like the Turpin case that make national news headlines, it’s clear that some people ought to be screened before becoming parents. In the interest of kids’ welfare, what if would-be parents are screened?

That’s what I explore in my novel, Licensed to Rear.

Over 355,000 kids are in foster care as of 2024 in the US. The Health and Human Services estimates that anywhere from 1.6 to 2.8 million children run away from home every year. These kids don’t run away for no good reason. Oftentimes, something’s amiss at home, causing them to flee.

In Licensed to Rear, I create a fictional world where children are almost guaranteed happy childhoods. A good upbringing is largely influenced by the quality of parenting. My novel puts forth the idea that parenting is a privilege—not a right. And it is a privilege that is earned through obtaining a parental license. Although unnerving and “inconvenient,” it is in the best interests of children everywhere.

Earning a parental license can be likened to earning any other license: to practice law or medicine or to operate a vehicle. When would-be parents invest incredible time and energy into earning a license, as presented in my novel, they are more intentional about giving their kids a decent upbringing. No child is unwanted. It’s all theory but a thought-provoking one at best, and I hope people read and enjoy this satirical story.

Blurb

Mila Winston aspires to earn a professional license to practice parenthood. It’s all she needs to start her family in the happiest micronation on Earth. Newcomers flock to Coolbeensia to fulfill their dreams of raising children here, where kids are guaranteed loving—as opposed to horrible—parents.

But mighty obstacles test Mila’s grit. Peter Losor, a chap with an annoying air of bravado, questionable parenting skills, and a defiant personality, stirs up trouble, eventually challenging the very law that defines Coolbeensia—that licensure is mandatory to enjoy the privilege of raising children.

Will Mila survive her trying ordeal and achieve her ambitions of being a licensed parent in the quirky yet revolutionary micronation? Find out in this satirical, contemporary family fiction novel that will leave you second-guessing the ideals surrounding the prestigious job of parenthood!

 

Excerpt

“He’s seven, barely getting started,” Jason retorted. “And for life? Are you kidding me?”

“Well, we have to look closely at the defendant’s conduct and determine if it unequivocally led to a violation of the plaintiff’s Fifth Amendment rights.”

“What was that right again?”

With a heavy sigh, Mila shook her head. “Jason, you should know it by now. It’s Friday, and you had three days to memorize the entire Bill of Rights.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, but—”

“No excuses, Jace. We’ve got to prepare if we’re going to be licensed parents.” She put her hand on his thigh and gave it a light push. “Anyway, the Fifth Amendment states that kids have the right to live in a make-believe world for as long as they wish.” She dropped her tablet onto her lap. “For sure, per Coolbeensian law, this kid’s right was violated.”

Jason jerked his head back. “How so? Kids at some point realize there’s no Santa Claus.”

“But at age seven, he had the right to be inspired by the magical world of Santa and other legendary beings. I mean, it’s just plain wrong that the father’s irresponsible blurt led him to no longer believe in the Tooth Fairy too. These figures add so much joy and wonder to a child’s life. The father had no right to take that joy away from his son so soon.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s just not sensitive parenting.”

“Eh, I disagree,” Jason argued, cocking his head. “In a couple years’ time he’d have learned the truth anyway, from friends and even teachers.”

Mila flung her neck back. “Ugh, I’d never tell my fourth graders that Santa doesn’t exist.” Her eyes grew big. “Some still believe.”

About the Author

Riya Aarini entered her small part of the world one summer day in the Pacific Northwest. She writes in an eclectic mix of genres, including humor and contemporary fiction. If you enjoy quirkiness with a pinch of whimsy, you’ll have an appetite for her books.

Author Website: http://www.riyapresents.com

Social Media:

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/aarinibooks

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/aarinibooks

Buy Links:

Book is available everywhere books are sold, including

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Licensed-Rear-Novel-Riya-Aarini-ebook/dp/B0DGFGDZYT

The author will be awarding a book-themed T-shirt to a randomly drawn winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Money always came with strings – @PublishConquest @writersd56 #politicalromance #rivalstolovers #enemiestolovers

Blurb

“Politics makes strange bedfellows, and I’d like to keep my sheets clean."

Democratic incumbent, and Hayfield's current mayor, Jade Weatherby thought she had the mayoral race in the bag. That was until cafe owner and independent candidate, Finn Haley, joined the game.

Amidst their political rivalry and social pressures put on them by the small town's populants, Jade and Finn immediately fall for one another.

When a third candidate for mayor emerges with plans that could endanger the town, Jade and Finn are forced to make tough decisions about their careers and their growing relationship.

Genre: Political Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, Social Issues

Spice: One (reference can be found at https://www.conquest-publishing.com/resources)

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Strange-Bedfellows-Steven-Donahue/dp/1962739287/

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/strange-bedfellows-steven-donahue/1145830191?ean=9781962739283

 

Excerpt

The air smelled like money. Money was the one thing most attendees had in common.

There was old money, like the wealth of the Hendersons, derived from oil fields in Texas. Then there was new money, like the Charlestons, who started a dotcom for sports fans that took off like a rocket.

The room was filled with rich people eager to help finance their choice for mayor of Hayfield, Pennsylvania. At the front of the hotel ballroom stood the one person who hoped to shake some of that money off the tree and guide it into her campaign coffers.

Mayor Jade Weatherby knew the pressures of fundraising. This was her third go-around and it never got easier. Money always came with strings, and she sometimes felt like a puppet caught in a web of promises and obligations.

She opened her compact to check her makeup. At forty, the stress of two consecutive terms had begun to show. She hated the lines that ran under her eyes and the loose skin forming on her chin. She touched the edge of her face and wondered if it was time for a facelift.

Jade snapped her compact shut and watched her assistant, Raydrick Lee, walk up to the podium. The slender, black man moved so gracefully it was easy to see why he had no trouble attracting members of his own gender. Jade recalled many times when women were disappointed to find out they biologically lacked what he needed. The mayor hid her clenched fists as she nervously waited for her turn to speak. Raydrick addressed the crowd first.

“Good evening,” said Raydrick. The noise in the room dissipated. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight in support of our wonderful leader of Hayfield.” He paused as some applauded. “I am proud to work for an intelligent, passionate person who I can truly call my friend. A trailblazer for the rights of all citizens, no matter their gender, race, religious beliefs, or romantic preferences. A 21st Century leader in every sense of the word. Come on, now,” said Raydrick. “Let’s hear it for Mayor Jade Weatherby.”

The applause grew louder as Raydrick whooped up the crowd. The host stepped away from the podium as a single spotlight fell on Jade while she made her way to the microphone.

She raised her hands and flashed her best politician’s smile. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you all.” She turned toward her assistant as the room quieted again. “I want to take a moment to thank my right-hand man, Raydrick Lee, for his kind words and unyielding support.” More cheers filled the room before dying off.

Jade looked out at the jubilant audience. “Most people enter politics with good intentions. They feel a call to duty, a need to do what they can to improve society. JFK said it best, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country”. I believe that applies to all levels of government, from small towns like ours to big cities like Philadelphia, and capitals like Washington, D.C. Good people want to do good things.”

Jade paused for more applause.

About the Author

Steven Donahue was a copywriter for TV Guide magazine for 14 years. He is an avid reader, and his writing is inspired by the works of Ernest Hemingway, John Jakes, Ray Bradbury, and Matt Christopher. Donahue is a fan of the Philadelphia Eagles, a team that brings him great joy and great sorrow on a week-by-week basis.

Currently residing in the northern suburbs of Philadelphia, Steven hopes to become successful enough to one day retire to a beach house in Ocean City, N.J.

Website: https://steven-donahues-site.yolasite.com/

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@writersd56?lang=en

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/writersd56/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/writersd56

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Charity Sunday: Supporting Humanity, Opposing Genocide – #CharitySunday #Sudan #Rape

Last Charity Sunday I asked whether you knew anything about Laos.

This month, I’ll ask the same question about Sudan. Do you know where it is? Do you have any idea what’s happening there?

From https://www.britannica.com/place/Sudan

If you can access the NY Times (for some reason, I can’t at the moment), then read this deeply disturbing article by Nicholas Kristof.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/28/opinion/darfur-sudan-atrocities.html

Civil war, famine, rape being used as a weapon, the Black inhabitants of Sudan targeted for elimination by Arab militias... Yes, the world is a mess, with conflict at multiple locations across the globe. With people focused on the Middle East and Ukraine, places like Sudan where the situation is even more dire but where Western countries have less at stake simply fall off the agenda.

So for today’s Charity Sunday, I’m supporting Mutual Aid Sudan, a grassroots charity recommended by Kristof that’s helping the ordinary Sudanese people survive. 

 https://mutualaidsudan.org/howwework

I will donate two dollars to MAS for each comment I receive on this post.

Closer to home: I will also donate one dollar to Be Loved Ashville, an organization providing support to people in North Carolina who have been impacted by Hurricane Helene. 

 

https://www.belovedasheville.com/

So don't be shy! Leave a comment! Get your friends to comment! Make a difference.

For my excerpt, I’m still trying to keep a Halloween/paranormal theme, so I have an excerpt from my vampire erotic romance Fin D’Espoir. The main character, vampire Etienne de Remorcy, is a former slave, shipped from Africa to Haiti, then Jamaica.

To attract sweeten the pot, I’ll give away a free copy of this book to one person who leaves a comment. I’ll draw the winner on Halloween.

 

Excerpt

“Tell me.” She lay with her head on Etienne’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Strange, she thought, that he should have a beating heart, if he was what she suspected. But what did she know of such things? She raised her face from that ebony pillow and flicked her tongue over the rosy nub of his nipple. “Tell me about her.”

Etienne stirred, untangling his limbs from hers. “Why waken old sorrows, petite? Why not just enjoy the remains of the night?”

“I want to understand you.” She braced herself on her elbow, feasting her eyes on his physical perfection. “Maybe to help you.”

“Impossible. I am damned, condemned to live alone with the knowledge of my sins. You are a poor, frail mortal. There is nothing you can do. If I wish, I can wipe your mind clean of the memory of me. From your perspective, I will not exist.”

“Please, don’t,” Madeleine whispered. “I gave myself to you. Give me a bit of yourself in return.”

The sable giant frowned. He shifted his bulk to a sitting position. His heavy penis lolled against his thigh. Madeleine’s mouth watered as she imagined rousing it from its relaxed state. She shifted her attention to his noble face. “Please, Etienne.”

“Very well. I find you difficult to resist.” He sighed and was silent for a moment, looking off into the distance.

“I first saw my mistress in the slave market in Port-au-Prince. The year was 1796. I was fifteen. It was dusk. In those glory days of colonial power, the trade in human flesh went on around the clock.

“In the midst of the filth and degradation, she was a gorgeous tropical flower. She wore a gown of emerald silk embroidered with silver thread. Her hair tumbled in jet ringlets over her pale shoulders. Her eyes were dark jewels, her mouth a crimson blossom. She picked her delicate way through the dirty straw wearing kid boots, but she held no handkerchief to her face against the stench of unwashed bodies. She carried a dainty leather whip dyed to match her costume.

“I stood on the block with the other merchandise, dirty, covered with scabs, chains around my neck and my ankles. The auctioneer called for bids on the man before me, laughing and joking in a coarse way about the man’s substantial genitals. My mistress came right to the front of the crowd and interrupted the proceedings.

“‘I will take that one,’ she stated, pointing at me. ‘What is his price?’ She was a petite woman. Her voice was not loud, but it held an unassailable authority. Everyone stopped to listen.

“‘He is to be auctioned next, Madame.’ The grizzled man looked nervous. ‘Please wait for a few moments.’

“‘There is no need to bother with the bids,’ my mistress insisted. ‘I will match any offer.’

“‘Madame, please…’ She ignored him and fixed her eyes on me. ‘I want you, boy,’ she said. Though in my own country I was a king’s son, her attention made me blush and hang my head. Then to my horror, I realized that I was hugely erect.’

“‘And you want me, too, do you not, my prince?’ She laughed. I had picked up a bit of French on the voyage. I understood why the crowd was jeering. She threw a heavy bag of coins onto the block. ‘Unchain him,’ she ordered.

“The auctioneer scrambled to retrieve the purse. Inside was more gold than he had likely ever seen at one time, enough to purchase every slave on the platform. He hastened to unfasten my leg shackles and unchain my collar from that of the two men on either side of me. He handed the chain to my mistress and she led me to her carriage.

“We returned to her plantation. She had me bathed and fed. She tended to my sores with her own hands. I thought that I was in paradise. I was hard the whole time.

“That night she took me to her bed. As I entered her, she drank from me for the first time.”

Maddy swallowed. “She was a—a blood-drinker?”

“A blood-drinker, a witch, a Voodoo priestess. The cruelest and most savage creature you can imagine. She looked white but she was an octamaroon, the granddaughter of a slave as black as I. How she loved to play the grand lady, full of contempt for the society around her…” He buried his face in his hands. Maddy rested her hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to continue.

“I grew to manhood on her plantation. She educated me, when it suited her fancy. She used me. Sometimes, she made me labor in the cane fields, laughing when I came to her at night, covered with sweat and dirt. Sometimes it pleased her to dress me in silk livery and have me serve her the wine and raw meat she favored. She enjoyed hanging me from a hook in the ceiling and whipping me until my skin hung in strips from my back. Then she would lick the gore from my wounds and tell me that she loved me.”

Buy links at: https://www.lisabetsarai.com/findespoirbook.html

Don’t forget to leave a comment. Help the people of Sudan and maybe win a free Halloween read!

Bad Boy Musicians – on sale! #99cents #rockstarromance

Veteran author M.J. Roberts has a treat for you! Rock Hard, the first book in her rock and roll romance series The Chord Brothers is on sale now for only 99 cents!

Series Blurb

Rockers with larger-than-life personalities, lighthearted humor, broken hearts that need mending, and desperate struggles to overcome the trauma that unites them. Go deep into the Rock and Roll life and see these amazing people deal with real-world issues while they woo their partners with toe-searing chemistry and laugh-out-loud fun.

Book Blurb

Drummer Ryder Chord has been living half a life since he was sixteen when a brutal tragedy struck, and he and his best friend hit the road.

Ryder, desperate to forget, throws himself into touring life and writing music. When Lexi joins the band, Ryder’s life becomes almost tolerable. Until one day when the rest of the band isn’t there and Ryder and Lexi have to share a hotel room: with only one bed.

Rule number one of band-dom: You never sleep with anyone in the band. Rule number one of bro code: You never sleep with anyone’s sister. You DEFINITELY never sleep with your best friend’s little sister. Rule number it’s so obvious it’s a count even a drummer can keep: You Never, EVER, sleep with your best friend’s little sister when she’s in the band…and he is too.

** “A moving, funny, white-hot sexy romp that fans of Lauren Blakely, Nora Roberts, and Janet Evanovich will love.” – Smart Woman’s Steamy Romance Reviews.

Buy Link (only 99 cents for a limited time): https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MDHXT8C

About the Author

M. J. Roberts is a novelist and movie writer, editor, and teacher – with more than two million copies of her stories in circulation worldwide, Roberts is well loved for creating characters who feel as real as your most cherished friends. Roberts works to diligently to create believable, lovable characters, witty dialogue, prose ripe with metaphor, exciting plot twists, action that keeps you on the edge of your seat, and romance scenes that sizzle.

Roberts is a multiple award-winning author including first place in the prestigious Summer Lovin’ Romance Literary Contest 2015 for the novel Risk Your Heart.

Roberts also writes under the pen name Natasha Action. Roberts is originally from New York but lives in the southern United States for the purpose of endless comic material.

She’s married to a professional musician (A.K.A. The Rock and Roll God) because she is too busy tormenting imaginary characters and counting her blessing to pursue her longtime dream of Rock n’ Roll stardom herself.

Website: http://www.mjrobertswriter.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/mjrobertswrites

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mjrobertswrites/

https://about.me/mj.roberts

I love to hear from fans. Contact me directly at

mjrobertswriter [at] gmail [dot] com

News Flash! Raw Silk is back in print! #NewRelease #FirstNovel

Twenty-five years ago, Black Lace brought out my first novel, Raw Silk, in paperback.

Now, after several years of unavailability, I’ve self-published a brand new print edition. If you’re the sort who likes to hold a physical book in your hands, this one’s for you.

I’m warning you, though: it’s hot enough that you might need oven mitts to read it!

Blurb

“You were born to this. You may not understand, yet. You may not believe. But I will teach you.”

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she embarks on a sensual journey that will change her forever.

In the glittering City of Angels, Kate becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic, dominant proprietor of a sex bar. With Anand Rajchitraprasong, she discovers her own almost unlimited capacity for erotic pleasure. Meanwhile, Gregory Marshall shows her what she has hidden from herself: a deep desire to submit, to surrender herself body and soul to someone with the power and compassion to master her.

Each lascivious adventure binds her more closely to her lovers. Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

Long considered an erotic classic, Raw Silk chronicles one woman’s intimate voyage toward love and self-understanding. This twenty-fifth anniversary edition has been freshly edited and includes a new introduction plus a bonus chapter.

Get it in print! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKJ2PW92

(Still available for free on Kindle Unlimited, until November 23^rd.)