Friday, September 18, 2020

The path to love is rarely easy -- #Werewolves #EroticRomance #Shifters

 

Worth the Wait cover

About Worth the Wait

The Northwest Maine Pack is settling down since Diego, the new pack leader, is almost done healing after challenges to his leadership. His wife, Saoirse, presents him with a welcome surprise. John, son of the late pack leader, has headed out to Boston, to live with Freddie, Saoirse’s bestie, whom he met at her wedding to Diego. This leaves a gap in pack security, so Diego asks if anyone from the family of Canadian hunters is willing to fill in for him.

Grant volunteers. He's been haunted by the memory of the black she-wolf he saw on the pack grounds. His wolf tells him she is their mate, but he doesn’t even know what she looks like as a human.

Nathan has been without any real love in his life, since his family disowned him years ago, for telling them of his secret duality. But when his wolf senses an unfamiliar she-wolf, and they mate, the next morning, the woman has no memory of anything they did the night before.

Everyone has been waiting a long time for what they want the most. But the path to true love is rarely an easy one. Especially when you are a werewolf.

Excerpt

Here's a quickie excerpt from the middle of the book, after Nathan has found his mate, but she doesn't remember anything about it.  Nathan leaves the room, totally depressed. Saoirse is alone with Diego, her husband.

Saoirse got up and walked over to Diego, who turned to face her. He put his arms around her, and rested his face against her almost full-term belly. She pulled off the band he tied his hair back with, stroking the silky strands.

"Is that how mopey you would have been, if I'd have rejected you?"

He looked up at her to gaze seriously into her eyes. "No. I doubt I'd have had the time to mope. I'd have been killed in the first challenge."

Her eyes grew wide, as both of her loves watched her through Diego's eyes.

"Then I'm really glad I didn't let you scare me off, with your talk of life-time commitment and all."

He smiled, then rested his face against her belly again, just in time to feel a small body part push against him.

"What's that? You don't want me snuggling your mommy so closely? Too bad, little one. She was mine before she was yours. And long after you grow up and move out of our house, she will still be mine. I'm glad to share her with you, for now. But she is now, and will always be, mine."

He rose up to take Saoirse into his arms, tilting her head up to kiss her passionately. When she leaned back, her eyes were dreamy, and her lips were puffy from kissing.

"Um, Diego?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I've read that you can get things moving along nicely with labor, by doing what got you into this in the first place."

His lips quirked up on the edges, and his eyes sparkled. "Is that a fact?"

"Well, it's what I've read. And you don't have any pressing appointments right now, do you?"

He shook his head, taking her hand and leading her out of the office. He purposefully pulled her down the hall to the master bedroom.


For more information, and reviews: www.fionamcgier.com

Buy Links

https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2883-9-worth-the-wait/

https://www.amazon.com/Worth-Wait-Northwest-Maine-Academy/dp/1487428820

Coming soon to Smashwords, BN and other online bookstores!

Pick up the first book in the series, too!

https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2676-7-when-a-wolf-howls/

https://www.amazon.com/When-Howls-Northwest-Maine-Academy-ebook/dp/B0852S74BF/

 

About the Author

 

Fiona has always had stories in her head. Characters intrude into her thoughts and insist on showing her scenes from their lives. She discovered that when she ignores them, they start to yell louder; if she writes their stories and they can live in readers' heads as well, they usually leave her alone...only to be replaced by a new group of story-tellers. Her head is usually a very crowded place, but she likes it that way.


Thursday, September 17, 2020

No Damsel: Turning Gender Stereotyping On its Head – #DystopianRomance #PostApocalyptic @KA_Raines

 

The Infiltrator cover


By K.A. Raines (Guest Blogger)

When my daughter was a little girl, she was prone to bursting into rages of temper. As she matured, the rages subsided, but she became almost stoic, often shying away from affection. My son, conversely, was quick to burst into tears at the slightest scolding. He was affectionate and eager to please – and he still is.

Yet, many are still trained to believe that girls are the emotional gender and boys the more passive one. But are the genders inherently different, really? Personally, I’ve seen no evidence of this. I’m from the south. Texas, specifically, where antiquated ideals still reign supreme. And generally speaking, just as young boys are taught that pink is a “girl” color and dolls are “girl” toys (unless raised in a progressive family), they are likewise taught that it’s “unmanly” to cry. Girls are taught to be polite and ladylike (ever hear of a Southern belle?), and that our tears are acts of weaknesses that reinforce our roles as the “weaker” gender, in need protection and guidance. In my own blog post last Friday, I talked a bit about how I enjoy books and films that shatter gender stereotypes. Likewise, I enjoy writing about damaged, emotional men and strong, assertive heroines. Accordingly, I thought I’d take the opportunity to elaborate on the subject.

I love romance novels. I always have. I love the different romance tropes. However, as a feminist, what I don’t necessarily love is some of the gender stereotypes often perpetuated by my beloved genre: AKA the classic damsel in distress (remember the old covers with Fabio protecting his bustier-clad lady?). Don’t misunderstand me – I love the whole damsel-in-distress trope. In fact, my own debut novel was built upon the entire premise. The challenge for myself, though, was how to effectively utilize the trope while reversing it and finding a way for the heroine to rescue herself and the hero. The damsel most certainly can be in distress. Tense situations make for a dramatic first meeting. But she should also be equipped with the means to rescue herself—and she should. At least once.

I want to see heroines that know what they want in and out of the bedroom and aren’t afraid to take control. I want to see heroines who are ballsy and can fight alongside the men. I want to see them smart and challenge the male characters verbally.

Speak up in the comments! Do you know any romance novels that challenge gender stereotypes? Feature strong/assertive women? Inquiring minds want to know! I’m gathering recs for a future blog post!

~ Kari


Blurb

A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.

Excerpt

What happened to you?” she breathed. “Who did you lose?” She knew she was pushing him, that she should stop before she went too far, but it felt like observing a train wreck, watching from a distance as the engine rushed ahead at full steam, and, even foreseeing the impending disaster on the tracks, being powerless to stop it. “You risk your life tryin’ to save women and children. Who was she? Your wife?” She didn't even know why she cared. She didn't want to care. Derrick Caine was a virtual stranger to her, yet she knew she was already in way too deep.

He growled suddenly, a low, guttural sound that jarred her out of her trance when she rather unexpectedly found her space invaded by him for the third time in the past several minutes. Yet the charge in the air had shifted subtly; he no longer seemed angry, exactly, but there was something decidedly predatory in his eyes.

The fuck you want from me?” His voice in her ear was a dangerous rumble that elicited chills up her spine and ignited a fire that bloomed hotly in her womb, a delicious contrast. Quite suddenly, all she wanted was to relieve the dull throb between her legs that his voice and presence evoked; she wanted him so badly that she physically couldn’t endure not to have him soon.

You. Just you. “I could ask the same of you,” she settled for, and she couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. She was overwhelmed by him—by his nearness, by the heat emanating from his body, drawing her in. She tentatively raised a trembling hand, reaching up to touch a raised scar on his chest, just above his left pectoral. His chest continued to visibly rise and fall, and he was breathing hard through his nose in an obvious effort to calm himself, fists clenched in tight balls at his sides. His breathing hitched when she barely touched him, a feather-light caress, her fingertips just skimming the jagged edge of his scar. She had known all along that he was in pain. So much unbearable pain—yet he would never admit it to anyone, least of all her.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CFRXZCS

 

About the Author

 

K.A. Raines is a U.S. Navy veteran who lives in Longview, TX with her children and who has a passion for reading, writing, red wine, and good food. Her love for science fiction, the paranormal, and romance bleed into her writing.

Author Links

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/KA_Raines

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100052614996318

Website:

http://www.karaines.com



Wednesday, September 16, 2020

What is “Urban Fantasy”? #demons #vampires #hornyteens #wildsex

Urban fantasy

By Dacy Alex (Guest Blogger)

Before I begin, I must thank Lisabet for having me back on her blog and also for being such a wonderful and awesome friend. I couldn’t have met a better lady!

What’s the best thing about Lisabet? She understands what the book genre urban fantasy is. There is no need for explanations or examples. She just knows.

My book series Splendificent falls into the urban fantasy category. However, in real life, I find a lot of people do not understand what that means. The older the person gets, the more likely they are to think it relates to theoretical urban planning. That always elicits a small laugh from me.

In my opinion, urban fantasy is straightforward to define. It is our modern world of cars, skyscrapers, smartphones, PornHub, IG stalking, and televisions mixed with the fantastical elements of vampires and werewolves and witches. Think Vampire Diaries or Twilight. Those are two of my inspirations for Splendificent. They are what I consider the ultimate urban fantasies even if they don’t have PornHub references.

What makes a good urban fantasy is up to the reader. For me what makes an excellent urban fantasy is what makes a good book in any genre. I need engaging characters, a well-paced story, and standout dialogue.

However, what hooks me about an urban fantasy story is when the author builds the lore of the world. They don’t just set vampires in Boston. They tell you how vampires came to be in Boston. Or why some humans can practice witchcraft. They weave the occult and supernatural into the history and fabric of our existence. I’ve seen some authors tie fantasy into significant historical events and figures. The Nazis and their occult research is a popular topic.

Urban fantasy is not to be confused with magical realism. At least in my opinion. Magical realism presents a realistic view of our world with magical elements. Splendificent has demon summoning, portal hopping elves, and sex curses. That doesn’t seem like our world at all. Well, maybe it’s your world. If it is, then I worry about you. But, I also sort of envy you.

If you think like me, then again, I worry about you. But that means you have often wondered what our world would be like with vampires or demons or elves or any mythical creature. Well, like-minded crazy person, Splendificent is the series for you! It has a hard-drinking vampire, a gold digging fox spirit, an elf princess who oinks during sex, a scheming witch, and a surly pixie all wrapped up in sexy packages of hot busty babes.

 

Splendificent 2: The saga continues!

An evil elf prince, five supernatural babes, and a ninja mercenary gang combine to raise hell n the Big Apple

Fall semester is underway at New York City’s prestigious Hemera University, but for Giselle Nyfall and her extraordinary collection of supernatural roommates it’s not grades they are worried about... it’s their lives.

Having saved New York’s elite from a zombifying curse, Giselle and The Hot Squad find themselves dealing with the outrageous aftermath of their thigh-thumping heroics. The Squad members must battle supernatural mercenaries, contend with a portal to the underworld, avoid demonic death traps and thwart a nefarious prince hellbent on fulfilling an ancient prophecy and bringing on the death of one Squad member who happens to be his sister. All difficult assignments when they’re constantly losing their skimpy clothes and falling into the arms of hot studs and each other!

Will Giselle and her voluptuous companions come together to triumph over the forces of evil? Does the family that slays together stay together? Find out in the sexy, hilarious and politically incorrect Splendificent 2!

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08H2LG3TY

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08H2LG3TY

Amazon Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08H2LG3TY

Amazon Aussie: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08H2LG3TY

Excerpt

"Something's wrong, Claude," a henchman with braided hair put forth in a shaky voice.

Something was indeed wrong. Mister braided hair's nose was shattered to the point it was no longer recognizable as a nose, thanks to a running elbow from one Fleur Flanagan.

"Holy crap!" Giselle spat out, as one man nearly provided his pants with a holy crap as he watched Fleur send a spinning kick with her opaque Nikes to dislocate one of his partners’ jaw.

Claude, the leader, acted in a flash of ninja-like terror, whipping a throwing star of all things into Fleur's shoulder.

"Fleur!" Giselle shouted in worry, not noticing that white cat darting below her feet.

"Jeez, what a pain," Fleur lamented at her shoulder, then brought that exact pain to another goon by depositing the throwing star just an inch away from his kibbles and bits. He fell to the ground, shrieking his agony with his eyes fluttering open and shut.

"What the hell are you?" Claude snapped at Fleur.

"I’m just a bitch looking to fuck some shit up. There should be some goofy fox girl coming to fuck you up too but she got caught up doing a selfie with a Maltese."

"Double holy crap! Triple holy crap! Quadruple holy crap! Infinite holy crap!" Giselle and her limited vocabulary shouted as the pale man lunged for her. Thanks to simple klutziness alone, Giselle avoided his grapple by tripping over the kitty and falling flat on her denim shorts.

The pale man didn't appreciate any interference from the cat and bashed it with a thudding kick.

"Bad move, bad person," Giselle barked. Against any semblance of good judgment, Giselle grabbed a stone and threw it at the pale man for harming the feline.

It proved to be a bad move for Giselle as the bad person made a bad lunge for her yet again. Unfortunately for him and his dental health, Fleur slid in to remove several of his teeth with a sliding boot.

Well, aren’t you an annoying prick? Don’t think about touching Giselle’s big jiggly white ass!”

Another thug let out a roar of a crazed beast and delivered a left cross to Fleur's face, staggering her backwards.

Through a bloody mouth, Fleur bellowed, "In the immortal words of former Celtic Kevin Garnett, 'hell nah! Trash ass bitch!'" and then rifled an opaque Nike into his stomach that hurled him backward.

He came back at Fleur, bashing her in the stomach with a knee. Fleur crumpled to the ground next to Giselle.

However, Fleur turned her position to her advantage as she tangled up her foe's ankles in her legs and brought him to a nose-breaking meeting with the pavement.

"Mega holy crap!" Giselle screamed while clutching the white kitty. It wasn't clear who was protecting whom in that embrace.

Another goon grabbed Fleur from behind, attempting to choke her out. Sadly for him, Fleur ruined his plan and probably the rest of his life by harshly flipping him forward to the ground. Before he could register what just happened, Fleur was using her right Nike to push his face into the hard alley ground. After that, very little was recognizable of the man's facial features.

Claude remained calm under pressure as he whipped out a sai from beneath his shirt and used the three-pronged weapon to skewer Fleur in the stomach.

Fleur's face registered agony with her features twisting into a frown, and her eyes slamming shut. Yet her misery was but a fleeting thing as she came back to life, yanking Claude across her shoulders then tossing him head-first into the ground at her side. A satisfying crunch rung out. Claude went limp— just another victim of the babe with the big happy grin.

"I'm gonna need you to come at me all at once," Fleur decided. "This one-at-a-time, piecemeal approach isn't working with my need-it-now Gen Z mentality."

The SKM crew broke and broke hard. They ran like the very hounds of hell were nipping at their heels. But it was just little ol’ Fleur, with the full face made adorable by puppy fat. Though even looking at the pale blue eyes, the trademark red ribbon on brown hair, Giselle still couldn't recognize this version of Fleur.

"That stupid redhead is disgustingly unreliable," Fleur complained. "And she shed all over my favorite blanket."

"Oh. My. Gaaaaaawwwwdddddd!" Giselle howled, her big blue eyes glossy with wonder. "You're like Batman, not the Christian Bale Batman or Ben Affleck Batman, but definitely the Arkham Games one. It’s like the press triangle button appeared and you said eff that, I'm pressing triangle AND square, and L1 and B, and the Playstation doesn't even have a B button! You're a vampire Batman! Wowie!"

Giselle's video game rambling may have actually been appropriate as Fleur looked over her bested enemies as if she were in an online game searching for "phat loot."

"SKM goon, SKM goon, SKM goon," Fleur mumbled until that big happy smile reappeared on her face. "Hey, this short one is an SKM ninja."

Giselle and her new feline pal peered at Claude, while both keeping a tentative distance.

"I don't know what an SKM ninja is," Giselle lamented. "Are you a ninja also? Are you an ABC, DEF, CNBC ninja?"

Fleur went on to say, "Pft, I'm not part of some gang of paint by numbers tattooed losers."

Giselle found Fleur to be babydoll cute. She had gigantic innocent pale blue eyes, a stream of chocolate-colored hair usually pinned by a ribbon, a face full of baby fat and full red lips. What wasn’t babydoll like was her figure, which was chiseled and honed to rock hard perfection.

"Anyway, thanks for saving me. You followed me?"

"Dusty told me what was up. You’ve got a real annoying habit of getting in the worst possible situations so we decided to come after you. It’d be a pain in the ass if you got kidnapped again or murdered with your mom around. What’d Wanda say about what you found?"

Giselle explained Prince Trygyrr showing up, the nature of the pillar as well as Tartarus and the link to Hemera. All of which earned a scowl from Fleur.

"So what can we do?" Giselle questioned.

"Not take advice from creepy elves. He reminds me of the supernatural equivalent of the guy who masturbates in the 2010 Corolla when the kids are on recess and says he didn’t know the kids would be on recess when he started jerking off."

"I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion. But what do we do about this pillar?"

"This lame shit might be connected to the cursed guys at our condo, which could be connected to my dad. Or it could be extra bullshit we have to deal with. I wish I was dead."

"You’re so cute when you’ve decided something’s hopeless."

"Cute?" Fleur rolled her pale blue eyes. "Ugh. You wanna die."

Giselle noticed something very peculiar about Fleur's appearance. Not the bloodstains on her green and white striped shirt, not the fact that she had no wounds from being stabbed by a sai and a throwing star. No something else was off about Fleur.

"Fleur, why do you suddenly look like Rouge from X-Men?"

"Huh?"

"You've got a white streak in your hair."

"Are you serious? Already?" Fleur's hand went directly to tug at the sudden streak of bright white that had exploded from her otherwise Godiva chocolate straight hair.

"Is this normal for you? Getting a Vidal Sassoon color job?"

"I need to remedy this shit quick. I could bite you," Fleur mused, "but you're a real whiner. But then again that big white ass looks like a big ball of cookie dough.”

Sugar cookie cookie dough!”

That must be Fleur’s favorite flavor because without a word the brunette buried her doll face between Giselle’s sumptuous cheeks. The demon-vampire hybrid started growling like a wild boar as she ran her face up and down and bottoms that were so tight they could have been painted onto to Giselle’s generous helping of derriere.

Eeep!” Giselle shouted as her legs began to buckle. “You can’t eat ass in an alley!

Fleur pulled back with the comment of, “Shut up for a second. That’s not enough. I’m better at sucking dick anyway. I’m gonna drain this guy limp.

"Drain him limp?" Giselle questioned to herself, then turned to her white feline buddy, "Mister Kitty, our friend Fleur is a vampire."

"You're explaining things and not going all eeep or whatever. Maybe, Tristabelle was right. You are too stupid to be scared of this shit."

"Tristabelle didn't say that!"

Fleur’s full lips pursed in thought, "Maybe it was Sofi."

"You're the only one who talks like that. Just drink his blood so we can go."

Fleur dropped to the ground and started unbuckling Claude’s weapon belt. That got a quarter of an eeep from Giselle. When Fleur pulled down his pants and underwear that got half an eeep. When Fleur waved her hand over his limp penis to turn it into a full-blown erection that got a full eeep.


About the Author

Dacy Alex is an author that has also taken home several screenwriting awards under a different name. Dacy loves the possibilities of the supernatural but also the inherent weirdness of the everyday world and likes to combine the two whenever possible. Dacy likes to focus his stories on new adults, which might explain why he can subsist on a steady diet of CW shows. The 100 and The Originals are the best ones don’t @ me, bro. Dacy’s an avid video gamer; Dacy’s favorite games are Final Fantasy X-2 and Persona 4: Golden.

Social: https://www.instagram.com/roxy_kitten/

Website: www.dacyalex.com



Tuesday, September 15, 2020

The "Write" Experience -- #MotorcycleClub #EroticRomance #Publishing @HarleyW_Writer

Demon cover

By Harley Wylde (Guest Blogger)

There was a time when the only way to become published was with an agent and signing a contract with a large New York publishing house. The acquisitions team would toss out far more books than they accepted. Back in the day, those were also printed and mailed because email didn’t exist. A lot of authors typed their manuscripts on typewriters. E-publishing changed the game quite a bit. There are publishers out there who will accept unsolicited manuscripts, which means you don’t need an agent. It became far easier to get your book into the hands of readers. Or to publish it yourself.

Since the ebook retailers like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and others opened up publishing platforms, making it easier than ever for people to publish their books electronically, in paperback, and even in audiobook, there are more books than ever just waiting to be discovered. It opened the doors to a lot of people who would have never gotten accepted by the lofty large publishers. Not because their stories were bad, but because they didn’t fit the mold. Anyone can be a “published” author these days with just a few clicks of a button. I only hope those who self-publish will hire an editor before launching their books – and not just their family and friends (unless those family and friends are professional editors).

So what does it take to have the “write” experience in today’s market and age of technology?

Determination. And yes, you need to have the skill or ability to tell a story that will hook readers and make them want to find out what happens to your hero or heroine. You also need an editing team to make your book shine, find all the typos and grammatical errors, and give it that polish every story needs. Behind every good writer, is an awesome team of people. Editors, proofreaders, beta readers, cover artists, formatters… the list goes on and on. But determination is the key. Never give up!

If you’ve been dreaming of writing your own story, go for it! Just be willing to put in the time and effort to make it the best possible story you can. When people give you advice on how to smooth out certain scenes, or suggest re-wording something, listen to them. They aren’t trying to tear you down or destroy your book, they’re trying to make it better.

Last month was my anniversary for being a published writer. I know, if you go look up books by Harley Wylde, you’ll see they only go back a few years. I started writing under a different name and mostly wrote paranormal and sci-fi romance. Since I was first published in August 2008, I’ve had over 150 novels and novellas published. Demon (Devil’s Fury MC) is my 40th Harley Wylde book.

 


About Demon

Farrah -- I’ve spent my entire life at the Dixie Reapers MC compound -- one of the perks of being the VP’s daughter. Except it’s suffocating. Leaving to start a life of my own was the only solution. I knew what it would mean if I went to the Devil’s Fury MC compound, even more so to flirt with their Sergeant-at-Arms. Getting involved would ruin the little bit of freedom I’ve found. Then I ended up in the man’s bed. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. My daddy is going to be so pissed, especially when I run from Demon, get snatched off the streets, and shoved into a trunk. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.

Demon -- She was a one-night stand. Until the condom broke. Then I found out she’d lied to me. The hot little number in my bed wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Maybe I shouldn’t have barked orders at her, or spanked her. Feisty little Farrah ran, pissing me off even more. When she disappeared and I realized trouble had found her, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe. Only after I had her back did I realize she was f**king perfect for me. Watching her handle the club wh*res was hot as hell, and she didn’t take sh*t off anyone.

I’ll make her mine -- permanently.

WARNING: Demon’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bondage, spanking, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. But it also has a heroic dog and a man who will move heaven and earth to protect the feisty, smart-mouthed woman he loves. There’s no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Now Available at…

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2YrOJgY

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2QjAvuf

Kobo: https://bit.ly/34vsElm

B&N Nook: https://bit.ly/34pFfXs

Changeling Press: https://bit.ly/3gfypWS

Add to your Goodreads: http://bit.ly/DemonDFMC

Add to your BookBub Wishlist: https://bit.ly/3j6lXu4

Excerpt

The moment I heard the shower running I grabbed my dress and pulled it over my head. I snatched my shoes from the floor and tiptoed out of the room. Every muscle in my body clenched tight as I approached the front door, worried he’d discover I wasn’t where he’d left me. If Demon didn’t want me to leave, there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop him. He was so much larger than me. I made it outside, put on my shoes, and practically ran for my truck. I huffed and puffed by the time I reached the clubhouse and jumped into the cab of my pickup. I jammed the key into the ignition and started it up, then my tires spit gravel as I backed out and barreled toward the gate.

The poor Prospect didn’t have a choice but to let me out. It was either open the gate, or I’d have gone straight through it. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I headed for the motel. I’d been so stupid. Letting him take my virginity was one thing. I should have left it there and walked out, but no, I’d let him tempt me into more.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Way to go, Farrah. First taste of freedom and you possibly get knocked up by a Neanderthal biker,” I griped to myself. I’d been around the type my entire life and knew better. Why I’d thought Demon would be different wasn’t something I’d figure out anytime soon.

About Harley Wylde

 


Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil's Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley's writing, her motto is the hotter the better -- off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can't deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you've come to the right place. She doesn't shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn't writing, she's thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She's also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980's, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990's to today, even though she'd much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you're there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

Find Harley online at: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub | Newsletter


Sunday, September 13, 2020

Too good to be true ... #RomanticSuspense #Mystery #Giveaway @JuliannaKeyes

All the Missing Pieces cover
 

Blurb

Reese Carlisle hates her life. Three years after her father’s arrest for one of the largest embezzlement schemes in history, twenty million dollars is still missing, and the world believes she knows where it is.

Two years after her brother’s death, they still think she killed him.

One year later, she’s still hiding.

When the loneliness is too much, she seeks out strangers for one dark night, no questions asked. She makes up a name, puts on a disguise, and tries to forget.

One night she meets a new man. She tells him her name is Denise, she’s a dental assistant, and she loves dogs. He tells her she’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s funny. Things she hasn’t heard in too long.

Things that are too good to be true…

Excerpt

I enter my dark apartment, the wall of windows providing enough ambient light to see my uninspired, decidedly minimal decor. I drop my purse and press my back to the door, sliding down to the floor. My black skirt rides up my thighs and my legs flop apart, knees rubbery, ankles weak.

I’d like to think I had too much wine, but that’s not true.

Not even after a night of halfway decent sex am I this shaky.

I know what the issue is.

My gaze flickers to my purse the way it would to a ticking time bomb. I fumble with the clasp before retrieving the shiny black room key and turning it over and over in my hand like a magician with no trick.

I yank off the cheap wig. I have a closet full of them, thanks to my brother’s short-lived career in theater management. They’re one of the few items that were returned to us after the raid. At least they came in handy. They help me become Harriet and Isabel and Jess. People nothing like the person I was. And most definitely nothing like the woman I am.

The stranger wouldn’t want this woman. He likes redheads with brown eyes who laugh when they’re not supposed to. My once-bleached hair is back to its natural black, my fingernails haven’t been painted in three years, and I only bother to shave my legs when I have a date. I don’t think the stranger would know what to do with this girl. He could read a million newspaper stories exposing my father’s crimes and hypothesizing about mine and never find the truth.

Liar. Thief. Murderer. Whore.

It’s in there somewhere.

About the Author

Julianna Keyes is a Canadian writer who has lived on both coasts and several places in between. She’s been skydiving, bungee jumping and white water rafting, but nothing thrills—or terrifies—her as much as the blank page. She loves Chinese food, foreign languages, baseball and television, though not necessarily in that order, and writes sizzling stories with strong characters, plenty of conflict, and lots of making up.

Website: www.juliannakeyes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/juliannakeyes

Facebook: www.facebook.com/juliannakeyesauthor

Email: info [at] juliannakeyes [dot] com

Buy Links

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BN :https://bit.ly/2ZmN51a

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Julianna Keyes will be awarding a a physical $25 Amazon GC (US/Canada only) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.




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Sizzling Sunday: Baristas -- #Menage #Erotica #FreeBook

 Sizzling Sunday Banner

Happy Sunday! To amuse you today, I’ve got a hot snippet from my short story “Baristas”. You can read the whole thing, as well as nine other erotic gems, for free. Just go to Smashwords and download a copy of my collection Crowd Pleaser: Sexy Shorts, in your choice of ebook formats, and enjoy!


I must have been hungrier than I realized. I’d drunk most of the coffee and devoured half the muffin before I noticed they were watching me. Their eyes followed every sip, every bite.

Good?” asked Todd, his voice smooth as one of the blended frappes he and his partner concocted for their customers.

Unbelievable. Thank you.”

You missed a bit.” Martin ran his finger around the inside of the cup, gathering some remnants of the whipped cream. He held the digit out to me. Before I could stop myself, I took it into my mouth and sucked.

Time stood still. The two men shared another one of those pregnant looks. His finger still between my lips, Martin nodded at his partner. Todd strode over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign to “Closed”.

No, I wanted to say. No, I can’t.

Martin withdrew his finger.

Oh,” I breathed, wanting it back. I felt empty, everywhere. “Please...”

Todd lowered the blinds.

Martin moved the table to the side, then crouched down so that his freckled face was level with mine. “What do you want, Ms. Jordan? How can we serve you?”

I—I can’t...” I babbled.

You don’t have to do anything.” Todd joined his colleague on the other side of me. “Just leave everything to us.”

Before I could reply, he was pushing my casual cotton skirt up my bare thighs to give his partner better access. Martin hooked his fingers into the waistband of my bikinis and tugged them down far enough to expose my pubic curls.

Oh, pretty!” Todd exclaimed, brushing his palm over my fur and sending electric sparks straight to my clit.

A natural blond,” added Martin. He slid one delicate finger between my swollen labia. “A very wet blond.” The slight invasion just made me want more, but even as I arched up from my chair, he withdrew to suck off my juices. “And delicious.”

Let me taste, Martin.”

Shameless, I tried spreading my thighs, but the panties interfered. I raised my butt so Todd could slip them down to my ankles. He stuffed them in his jeans pocket before kneeling in front of me.

I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Ms. Jordan.” Using his thumbs, he opened my sex like a ripe fig and licked me from back to front. Just one stroke, but it was more than enough to make me squirm.

Oh, God! More! Please...”

He bent closer and lapped along my cleft with a firmer pressure, finishing with a flick to my clit. Lightning sizzled up my spine. I arched up from the chair, trying to hump his face. With a chuckle, he burrowed deeper, plunging his tongue into my folds then nibbling at my inner lips. Everything he did felt heavenly.

Before long he had his whole face wallowing in my pussy, using his mouth, his teeth, his tongue, even the hardness of his nose to bring me pleasure. A climax coiled in my pelvis, winding tighter each time he dove into my body with such enthusiasm. I was soaked and slippery. I knew I was drenching him with my secretions, but unlike many men I’ve known, he didn’t seem to mind at all. The more I bucked against him, the more energetic he became.


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