Friday, August 31, 2018

Once he claims a taste of her he’ll do everything he can to keep her. #newrelease #MCRomance @AuthorLynnBurke @evernightpub #menage #giveaway

Digger
Fallen Gliders #3
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Artwork: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Heat Level: 4


Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex, double penetration, bondage

Digger is one badass bastard hell-bent on protecting his Fallen brothers--no matter the cost. He’s also ugly as shit, scarred for life by one of the men who gang-raped his mother. Born of violence and only wanted by women for his massive cock, he lives an unfulfilled life while secretly yearning for more.
Maci Irving is his opposite, a kind-hearted soul who wants to care for everyone she meets. She's also one of his brother's flavors of the month. Fuck the world, and fuck the dark sedan tailing him everywhere he goes—once he claims a taste of her he’ll do everything he can to keep her.
With his heart in her hands, can he convince Maci to stay with him and become his old lady, or will his violent lifestyle and its consequences end up to be more than she can bear?

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EXCERPT:
“Capone said you could make me forget my own name,” she whispered while running her hands up over my chest.
My pecs flexed on their own beneath her firm touch. “Is that what you want?”
Lower lip sucking between her teeth, she nodded. Wetness coated her eyes, and fuck the goddamn ache that knifed through my chest. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered, pressing closer so her pussy rested against my straining cock.
Fuck, did she tempt me like no other woman I’d gotten my hands on. What she needed was rest, strong arms to hold her close as she slept.
I slipped my hand up over the back of her tight t-shirt, beneath her silken hair to hold her nape. “If you want to stop, just say so, and you have my word that we will.”
She leaned in and kissed me.
Mind fucking blown.
Soft and pliant, sweet yet minty … goddamn did I fall under the beautiful witch’s spell. Rather than take control and plunder the ever-loving shit out of her mouth, I held back, tracing my tongue along her lips rather than fucking her mouth. She opened to me with a sigh, and I gently threaded my fingers through her hair, angling her head.
My arm banded around her back, tugging her closer until her pert tits pressed against me. Slow rolls of my hips against her pussy tightened my balls and made her whimper against my lips.
Two pairs of fucking jeans in our way … and my brother I’d forgotten about.
I tore my mouth from Maci’s. Eyes hazed over, she stared at me, swollen lips parted.
Capone sat back in my chair, legs spread, hand sliding over his bulge, a smirk on his face. Fucker loved to watch almost as much as he loved to get his dick wet.
I massaged the back of Maci’s head and wiped the moisture off her lower lip with my thumb, torn over doing the right thing by taking a rain check until she was in a better frame of mind.
She flicked her tongue out, and I slid my thumb into her mouth without thought.
Goddamn. I groaned as she swirled her tongue and sucked. My cock jerked, and she ground her pussy against me. “Christ, woman.” Swallowing back another groan, I grabbed her ass in my palms and stood. Fuck it. I’d give her exactly what she wanted and then some. I just had to trust she’d stop us if it was too much.
Maci wrapped her legs around me as though they belonged there.
I nodded toward the hallway, and Capone hopped out of his chair to lead the way. He dimmed the lights as I knelt on the bed, sliding Maci to the center. She clung to me, but I pulled back onto my haunches.
Pale hair spread over my pillows, pulse in her neck fluttering, eyes wide and filled with need. The desire to see her like that every day of my fucking life welled over me like a nine-foot wave.
Should have freaked me the fuck out. Shouldn’t have enjoyed the satisfaction sizzling through my blood. Mentally, I pulled back, telling myself to keep my suspicions in place. Keep myself safe from rejection.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I said, running my fingers up her thighs, over her hip bones, under her shirt. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric, tight buds calling out for attention. I palmed her tits beneath her shirt, and she arched into my touch, lower lip once more between her teeth.
“You like my hands on you.”
“God, yes.” She gasped as I rolled both nipples between my fingers.
“Capone?” I scooted back and flicked the button on her jeans as my brother climbed onto the bed and took over where I’d left off with her tits.
Maci gasped as he closed his mouth over her nipple, t-shirt and all, grasping the back of his head to hold him close.
 A muscle in my jaw flinched to see his mouth on her, but our time together was for her pleasure, fulfilling one of her fantasies—not getting my balls twisted with jealousy.
She doesn’t belong to you, I told myself while sliding down her zipper.
Yet, another voice whispered in my head, clenching my jaw.
© Lynn Burke 2018
Other books in the Fallen Gliders series:
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ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Out Now—A Werewolf State of Mind by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #shifter #werewolf #romance



Blurb:

Anneke’s typical day at the office is thrown into disarray when she finds her next patient is an unwitting werewolf. And it doesn’t end there.

From the moment Caleb Kitt walks into Doctor Anneke Lund’s office for his psychiatry session, she knows his problem isn’t mental. He’s been experiencing night terrors, having violent and bloodthirsty dreams, and waking up naked in strange places. But he’s not losing his mind, as he suspects. He’s actually a werewolf—he just doesn’t know it yet.
Anneke isn’t just a psychiatrist—she’s also an empath, meaning she can read minds, and influence thoughts and behavior. She rarely uses her powers, but recognizes she may have no other choice as Caleb must be convinced of his supernatural status before the next full moon arrives. When it does, though, she finds herself going way beyond her duty of care to ensure Caleb doesn’t hurt or kill anyone when he transforms. But at what cost?
Please note: A Werewolf State of Mind was previously published in Coming in Hot: Rescue Me boxed set.


Excerpt:

The intercom buzzed. “Anneke?” came the voice of her receptionist, Ellen. “Your one-thirty is here.”
Anneke pressed the button to respond. “Thanks, Ellen. Send him in.”
“Will do.”
Anneke took a moment—knowing she had a few as her patient made his way from the reception area, down the short corridor and to her office—to pull up and glance at his notes on her computer. There wasn’t much information, since he was a new patient, but there was a brief description he’d given of the problem, which had spurred him on to book the psychiatric consultation with her in the first place.
Caleb Kitt was a thirty-five-year-old personal trainer who, in his own words, thought he was losing his damn mind. He was experiencing night terrors, having violent and bloodthirsty dreams, and waking up in strange places—certainly not where he’d gone to bed.
A multitude of potential diagnoses popped into Anneke’s head, but she refused to jump to any conclusions. There was no way to know for sure what his problem was, not without speaking to him, hearing his story, finding out more. And if she struggled to get to the root of his issues using traditional methods, there was always her back up plan.
Anneke was an empath. Her unique talents comprised of mind reading, mild mind control, and being able to sense supernatural creatures. However, using those talents was always a last resort. She preferred to do things the right way, the way she had been trained to in her years at medical school. It felt like cheating otherwise, and she couldn’t help feeling it was unethical to tap into people’s brains without their knowledge or consent.
For the vast majority of the time, she didn’t have to use her gifts—just her skill and hard-earned education. But occasionally—very occasionally—when a patient wasn’t being forthcoming, or their problem proved elusive, tricky to diagnose, she would reluctantly tap into her powers. Rather that than have a patient suffer unnecessarily, when she had the tools to help them. This fine balancing act between using her paranormal abilities and her training and education made her an incredibly effective psychiatrist, and she had to be incredibly careful not to come across as too good, too quick at diagnosing patients, otherwise she’d attract attention for all the wrong reasons. She dreaded to think what would happen if people found out what she could do.
There came a knock at the door.
“Come in!” she called, minimizing all the programs on her computer screen, activating the screen saver, then getting to her feet.
The door opened, and a tentative looking, but incredibly handsome man entered the room. To her surprise, a millisecond later her gifts kicked in and she realized what his problem was—he was a werewolf. And he clearly didn’t have a clue.
She frequently sensed other supernatural creatures when she was out and about—in the street, the supermarket, the cinema. But this was the first time she’d ever had one walk in to her office, as a patient. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.


Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.


Saturday, August 25, 2018

Out Now—The Voyeur by Kay Jaybee @kay_jaybee #bdsm #erotica (Second edition, published by Sinful Press, 2018)


Out Now—The Voyeur by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee) #bdsm #erotica
(Second edition, published by Sinful Press, 2018)


The world of Mark Parker is steeped in sexual fantasy and hidden away in a small notebook...

“...This is, simply put, Kay Jaybee's best work to date. It's imaginative, kinky, sexy and keeps you guessing throughout. So if you're looking for a well-written, BDSM packed novel with lots of straight and lesbian sex, then you should definitely check out The Voyeur.' Blog Critics

"...The Voyeur is the pitch black to E.L. James' shades. A richly dark erotic thriller which keeps you gripped from its sexually charged start and through its twists and turns along the way....  as the girls sexual challenges get packed with more eroticism you start to question whether you want the girls to succeed or not ...without knowing the full details and implications....” Amazon

“...if you kink kinky then this is for, you otherwise be warned ... this is not Fifty or even Gideon Cross - Mark Parker is in a world of his own...
An excellent story that had me up most the night to get it finished - I HAD to know what was going to happen.” Goodreads.

Blurb
Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge's Gentleman's Club, Anya's previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch...
Buy Links
Extract
... Mark took a step closer to his PA. “Tonight,” he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, “you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task off our list, girls?”
They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten their employer’s questions were rhetorical.
Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write ‘Fantasy 1’, ‘Fantasy 2’ and so on, all the way down–the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words ‘Fantasy 13’. The first eleven rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.
“Only two more tasks left to go.”
This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other; exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.
Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.
Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it.
They also longed for it.
Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs. Changing them so they slowly became closer to his own. Making his girls as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied him on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.
A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. “You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.” Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.
As Anya considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, she privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 would not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than Mark had asked of them before. She could handle this. They both could–no problem.
Then Anya saw her outfit.
Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar.
Staring at the total lack of clothing, Anya almost conveyed her horror to Clara, but her lover stopped her with an urgent shake of the head. There was no privacy here, and they never knew if the webcams positioned in every room were switched on or not...

Bio
Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO
Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.
Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, The Voyeur, 2nd edition (Sinful Press, 2018), Knowing Her Place-Book 3 : The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait, 2nd edition (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1;The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress), 2013.
Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk 
You can follow Kay on -
Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.


Thursday, August 23, 2018

Nate's lonely and intrigued by the VR program offering a boyfriend experience in a new internet cafe #newrelease #releaseday #MMormance


New release
MM romance 
A Virtual Kiss
E.D. Parr
Evernight Publishing


Hunky Nate Hathaway can’t resist the lure of private Virtual Reality rooms in a new Internet café that opens on the street where he works. He’s lonely and intrigued by the VR program offering a boyfriend experience. After only one date, Nate is hooked on Jason, the sexy, kind VR character.

Jason Graeme is the computer wizard behind the hot new VR programs. He’s a risk taker, smart and gorgeous. He’s also the body model for the boyfriend. A twist of fate brings Nate to his attention. Determined to meet dishy Nate, he reveals who he is.
Passion sizzles between the two men as they fall in love.

Trouble is Nate’s not the only guy in town who uses the boyfriend experience.

Read the teaser


“Hi, babe. It’s great to see you.” The guy greeted Nate and then kissed him.

Nate’s entire body went into meltdown. The kiss was so real he grabbed the VR man and pulled him close, crushing against him.

The man returned the kiss but gradually drew away. He held Nate’s hand and brought him to a table outside the café. “Let’s get coffee. Did you eat yet? You look tired.” He reached out a hand and swept gentle fingertips down Nate’s cheek.

Surprised at the comforting gesture, Nate closed his eyes for a second to soak up the touch. He opened them and gazed at his VR boyfriend. “I’d like to hear about your day. I’m not hungry, coffee’s fine.” What will I call him? Does he have a name or do I just assign him one? Hell, he is gorgeous.

A server brought coffee. “How lovely to see you again, Jason, and you’ve brought Nate along tonight. The usual for you both?”

Nate blinked under the beaming smile from her. How does it know my name? Must read the credit card or Cory keys it in when he sets the room going.

She placed their cups on the table.

Jason. Nate smiled at his VR man. Yeah. I like that—a mythical name for an unreal guy.

Jason locked his gaze with Nate’s. Attraction and desire flared unmistakably in the cobalt eyes.

Nate’s stomach clenched. He leaned a little forward to take in the affection from his boyfriend’s expression. Comfort, warmth, and gratitude mixed with the urgent need to kiss Jason again. He looked down at the table, unsure how to go on.

Jason stood and pulled his chair along next to Nate’s. He sat and slipped an arm around Nate’s shoulders. “Hey.” Jason held his jaw and lifted his head. “Kiss me.”

Nate looked into the blue eyes.

Jason’s lips met his. He merged his mouth on Nate’s in a soft press then lingered, dotting little kisses on Nate’s parted lips, before slipping his palm around Nate’s head and deepening the kiss.

Overwhelmed with the tenderness and sex in the kiss, Nate pulled away and stood. “I have to get back to work.”

Jason stood, too. He made a grab for Nate’s hand. “What, tonight? That’s unusual. Will I see you tomorrow?”

Nate stared at the gorgeous man, shocked at the realistic way Jason’s voice held need and worry. 

“Yes, of course. I better go now.” Unable to resist, he hugged Jason close. It was just as if he held a real man to his body. He soaked up the feel, let go of Jason, and strode to the wall where the door to the room had been. The VR scene provided a row of shops along the wall. As the dreamlike quality of the experience remained, Nate sighed and tried every one of the handles on the doors, until one swung inward and he charged out of it into the corridor. His credit card popped up from the device slot. Nate snatched it. He put it into his wallet as he walked the length of the corridor.

Cory drank coffee from a paper cup at his desk. He gave Nate a wave. “See you again.”

Nate passed him, dashed up the stairs, and raced along the corridor to the young woman’s desk at the entrance.

He called, “Good night,” walking quickly by her, and wove through the tables and computer desks until he pushed open the glass door and stepped into the evening air.

Nate froze in the cool breeze. He breathed deep. This was real. The café building behind him was cream brick, chrome, and dappled glass, the bank over the street serious gray stone blocks with an ATM inserted along one wall. Nate stalked along the sidewalk glad of the traffic nearby, happy with the occasional blast of carbon monoxide until he reached the entrance to the subway. He went down to the platform.

On the train home, he gazed ahead as he hung from a ceiling strap surrounded by late commuters. It’s as if I’ve been with a real person. I can just about feel his mouth on mine. Fuck, he’s hot. I wish he was real. Should I go tomorrow?

Copyright E.D. Parr 2018 Evernight Publishing, releasing Thursday August 23

ON RELEASE SPECIAL PRICE at Evernight Publishing
https://www.evernightpublishing.com/a-virtual-kiss-by-e-d-parr/
RRP: $2.99
Your Price: $2.24

(You save $0.75)

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Thursday, August 16, 2018



The Third Wish
by @JewelQuinlan from @EvernightPub


Blurb:
Owen only has one wish left. And this time, he wants to ensure it doesn’t come with nightmare side effects like his first two did. Unfortunately, Cleo, the scornful genie granting his desires, isn’t willing help. With the wish deadline fast approaching, Owen must find a way to gain Cleo’s assistance, or he’ll be stuck forever in a tangle of his own making.


Where You Can Buy It
Or add it to your shelf on Goodreads


Excerpt:
“…Maybe if you’d executed my first two wishes better I wouldn’t be so strung out.” Wrong thing to say. If I could have punched myself, I would have.
Cleo stiffened, eyes wide. And then they narrowed, and I could almost see the millions of ways she was killing me in her mind right now. I braced myself for a barrage of scorn mixed with profanity. If there was one thing I’d learned about Cleo in the past couple of months, it was that she had an extensive vocabulary of swear words. Not only was her range impressive, it was also interestingly exotic. I was well acquainted with it because it’d been directed at me on the frequent occasions I managed to get her to come out of the pill box. I’d thought I’d heard it all at this point in my life, but she proved me wrong. And somehow, whenever she directed her skill at me, I couldn’t help but feel that every term she used was eminently fitting.
“I’m so sorry you’re dissatisfied with your first two wishes, Master,” she drawled in an uncharacteristically chilly tone that made me shiver. “I shall return to my vessel and spend my time reflecting on how to do better with your third wish.” She turned and moved away from the door.
Fuck. The lack of profanity made me panic. I leapt up the stairs in one bound and grabbed her arm in desperation. If she evaporated back into the box, I’d have a hell of a time getting her to come out again. “Cleo, I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’m an asshole, okay? A dick. I’m—I’m every foul word you’ve called me since we met.”
The skin of her arm was soft beneath my fingers, but the biceps was firm. Did she work out? Would a genie even need to, being able to shapeshift and all? There was a small strange golden tattoo on her arm. I watched, fascinated, as it shifted from a crescent moon, to some intricate round design that reminded me of snowflakes, and then into a symbol of some kind. This close, her scent was warm in my nostrils. It was a mix of jasmine, incense, and something spicy that I had yet to identify. The intoxicating medley had visited me in my dreams more than once.
“Take … your hand … off me.”
The words were spoken slowly and in a deadly acid that had me snatching my hand back as though I’d touched a hot exhaust pipe. She glared up at me and twitched her arm as if to dislodge any germs I’d left on her creamy skin.
“Sorry. So sorry,” I said, my words coming out light and breathy as though I might set off a bomb. I took a half step back from her, lifting my hands in front of me in that universal I’m-not-armed gesture. “Please don’t go,” I pleaded. “I really need your help. Please.”
There were less than three days left for me to make my third wish, and I was desperate not to fuck it up.  I’d made the first two rather quickly, and they hadn’t turned out exactly as I’d hoped. Well, no, I can’t say that. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wished for. I was now ridiculously wealthy and famous. The problem was that both of those things had come with a lot of problems, like fleeing from people who were trying to kill me for reasons I had yet to determine. And I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life using my new, magically-granted resources running, hiding, and generally having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my days. Of course, I could always wish to undo the first two wishes. But who in their right mind would do that? I ran a hand through my hair, and pleaded with her with my eyes.
Cleo made a scoffing noise and raked a critical gaze from my black biker boots, over my favorite well-worn jeans and grey t-shirt, and finally to my face, which no doubt looked more haggard than ever from worry and an overgrown five o’clock shadow. “And why should I help you? Out of the goodness of my heart?”
I scrambled to think of something to say, but my mind was blank. I was a mere human. And before she’d come into my life, I was only doing a passable job at being that. There was nothing I could give her that she couldn’t give herself, not even freedom.
“I can’t think of anything,” I said, feeling deflated. “But maybe you can.” It was a shot in the dark, but worth it. There was a faint glimmer in her caramel-colored eyes that signaled I was on the right track. Inspired, I pushed forward, desperate. “Is there something?”
She relaxed her stance, making hope soar within me. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor as if—No. Could it be?—as if she was reluctant to say it. I closed the gap between us again, feeling bolder, but I didn’t touch her. “Tell me,” I urged in a low voice, fascinated. “I want to know. No, I have to know. What I could possibly give you that you would want?”

About the Author
Jewel Quinlan is a bestselling paranormal and contemporary romance author. Since her debut in late 2013, she has published fourteen stories and has many more to come. Restless by nature, she is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine, she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer drafting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.

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