Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Tex by Harley Wylde ~ #DarkRomance #EroticRomance #Bikers #MCromance #OlderHero #NewAdult @HarleyW_Writer


About the Book:
Tex -- I made a mistake fifteen years ago, one that could have landed my ass in jail. Instead, I made a deal. I signed away the rights to a child I'd never see, and then I joined the Army, putting the Dixie Reapers and my life in Alabama firmly in my rearview. But now I'm back, and I can't help but wonder what happened to my son or daughter. What I discover makes my blood run cold, and I vow to do anything in my power to save the daughter I've never met. I just didn't count on rescuing two damsels, or that the second one would look at me with haunted eyes that would make me do something stupid. I'd vowed to never let another woman f**k me over. I just hope I don't regret letting Kalani into my home and into my life. She has trouble written all over her.

Kalani -- I've been locked away my entire life. Hillview Asylum looks presentable enough on the outside, but I know firsthand about the horrors inside those walls. I'd always expected I'd die there, until he came. Not that he was coming for me. I've sheltered his daughter, Janessa, as much as possible, and in return I gained her trust and loyalty. I'd have never guessed those two things would save me. Or maybe they didn't, because now I'm faced with a man who makes me want things I shouldn't. His club suggested a marriage of convenience, to keep me out of Hillview, but I want more than just his name. I have no doubt this is going to end with my heart shattered at my feet, but he keeps the nightmares away. For the first time in my entire life, I feel safe. Protected. But now I want more... I want to be loved.

WARNING: Contains strong language, abuse, and other dark elements, as well as explicit sexual content. There is no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed HEA.


A Sneak Peek:
The truck came to a stop just outside a metal gate. It slid open, and the truck pulled through. I didn’t know where we were, and I didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t the asylum. Anything was better than being there. They drove down a winding road and stopped in front of a green house. Flicker got out and opened the back door. Tex held me tight as he stepped out of the truck and began carrying me toward the house. Janessa walked at his side.
“Call the doc,” Tex said. “I think they both need to be checked out.”
My body tensed, and I struggled against him. No, no more doctors. Doctors caused pain. I could feel the panic rising inside me, my heart racing and my lungs feeling like they’d seize at any moment.
“Hey, easy,” Tex crooned at me. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
“Doctors do bad things,” Janessa said softly. “Especially to Kalani.”
Tex looked down at me and gave a slight nod. “All right. No doctors. Not for tonight anyway.”
“Where are you going to put them?” Flicker asked. “Only two of the bedrooms are furnished.”
“Kalani and I can share,” Janessa said.
Tex carried me down a short hall and stepped into a blue bedroom. He eased me down onto the bed, and I winced as pain shot through me again. Janessa moved around to the other side of the bed and crawled in next to me. She stayed close, but not near enough that she’d hurt me.
“You’re safe here,” Tex said. “No one can get into the compound without our permission.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
He smiled a little. “We’re Dixie Reapers, and we take care of our own.”
“But I’m not one of you. I don’t belong to anyone.”
He glanced at his daughter. “She thinks you belong to her, and since she’s mine, I guess that makes you mine too.”
A strange warmth worked its way through me at his words. I’d never been anyone’s before, but as his gaze settled on me again, I decided I didn’t mind being called his. With the bedroom lights on, I could see more details of the men who had rescued us. They were each handsome in their own way, but Tex took my breath away. I’d never considered a man attractive before, not when I knew what they were capable of, but these men had risked their lives to save us. And that made them different.

Purchase at Changeling Press or online retailers:


Where to find Harley:

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley's other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is 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.


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Thursday, August 9, 2018

Out Now—Mia’s Choice (The Heiress’s Harem Book Three) by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose

But what happens after the wedding?

The last few months of Mia Harrington’s life have been tumultuous, to say the least. Losing her father, the bombshell in his will, followed by her multiple whirlwind romances and subsequent marriage—it’s little wonder she’s so thrilled to be spending three weeks in a tropical paradise with her four men. Rest, relaxation and a hefty dose of fun is precisely what they all need.
But the unconventional honeymoon isn’t all sea, sun, sand, and scorching sex. Back home in England, they have careers, responsibilities, other things that take up their time. Being in each other’s pockets on a tiny island is a challenge—but is it one they can rise to? Will this make or break their relationships? And when being away from it all gives them time to think, what impact will that have on the decisions they make about their futures?


*****
Excerpt:
Mia Harrington sighed contentedly and tipped her head back to allow the sun’s rays to bathe her face. Her blonde hair swished gently behind her in the sea breeze. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so thoroughly relaxed. Sitting on the wooden deck of her bungalow with her bare feet dangling over the clear blue waters of the Indian Ocean was exactly what the doctor ordered.
She snorted. Her surgeon boyfriend, Alex Cartwright, hadn’t even organised this trip, though she was sure he’d had some input. No, this supremely unconventional yet utterly perfect honeymoon was all the doing of her brand-new husband, Elias. It wasn’t the location that was unconventional—honeymooners probably flocked to these secluded islands in their droves to celebrate their nuptials. No, it was the fact Mia and her husband had three tagalongs—Alex, Thomas Walker, and Arjun Chaudary—each of whom she was in a romantic relationship with. And everyone involved was perfectly okay with it.
Elias had even had the foresight to book five separate over-water bungalows—money was no object for her investment banker husband, after all—giving each of them the opportunity for their own space. Yes, the picturesque thatched huts were all in a row with a wooden walkway connecting them, but if any of the group wanted some alone time, they could easily get it. Essential, really, when five adults were living in each other’s pockets for three weeks on a tiny island, no matter how stunningly beautiful it was.
They’d been on honeymoon for three days, and so far, it was working out well. Being together—or at least within shouting distance of one another—twenty-four seven was a little weird, and not even close to how things would be when they got back to England, but Mia figured it would be a good test of the strength of their relationships. If there were any cracks, they would definitely be showing by the end of the trip. But if they all got along, then it was a good sign for their quirky future as a fivesome.

Quirky hardly covered it, if Mia was honest with herself. Her life had been nuts since the death of her father almost eight months previously. As an only child, and with her mother already dead, Mia stood to inherit her father’s estate—which included her beloved childhood home, a considerable fortune, the land and wider estate on which the house stood, and more besides.
But, to her shock and dismay, her father had put a caveat in his will, requiring Mia to marry what he deemed to be a suitable husband in order to inherit. A husband who would be willing to not only take her last name, ensuring any offspring they had would continue the Harrington line, but to sign a prenuptial agreement stating that he wouldn’t get a penny if they divorced.
Mia didn’t care about the money, but she did care deeply about her home, and the estate, which provided jobs for so many in the area—herself included. Added to that, if she didn’t marry, her worthless, money-grabbing cousin, Quinn, would get his hands on everything. Knowing perfectly well he wouldn’t give the house, the tenants, or the employees a second thought, Mia had resolved to find herself a husband—no matter how unimpressed she was about the idea. It was the only way to keep her home, protect the livelihoods of the estate workers, and prevent Quinn from squandering it all away.
It had all happened a great deal faster than she’d been expecting, however, and with a bunch more variables thrown in. Which was how she’d ended up on honeymoon with her new husband and three other men—all of whom she adored, and who adored her right back.
It was truly idyllic. Not just the location, but the situation. The company. She was with her four gorgeous guys on a private island with no prying eyes, no one to see or care what they were up to. The members of staff who kept things clean and tidy for them and provided their food packages were incredibly efficient and discreet, so she wasn’t worried about them gossiping. It was more than their jobs were worth, after all, and in this part of the world she imagined jobs were few and far between. Although part of her felt guilty they were having such a lazy, luxurious time while the locals worked so hard and probably earned very little for their efforts, another part of her was glad they were injecting money into the area. It likely relied on tourism to keep things going.
Mia and her men had surrendered their phones and tablets on arrival, and the resultant lack of contact with the outside world meant none of their jobs or other responsibilities would encroach on their time in this island paradise—though they could be contacted in an absolute emergency. Even better, there were no interruptions, diary clashes, or physical distances between them. They could be themselves, spend quality time together, relax, have fun, and do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted to.
Up until now, they hadn’t done very much at all since they were getting over the long journey and the time zone change. Alex seemed to have recovered quickest—probably since he was used to working different shifts and insane hours at the hospital back home. He’d grown used to snatching hours or even minutes of sleep as and when he could. For Mia, Thomas, Elias, and Arjun, who all worked more regular hours, it had taken longer, but everyone finally seemed to be back on an even keel.
The deck creaked: someone was coming. Mia didn’t turn; the staff had disappeared after clearing away their breakfast things, so it could only be one of her men, and she honestly didn’t mind which. Half the fun of having them all in the same place at the same time was not knowing what was going to happen next, or with whom. Her new life was unpredictable, but in a safe way, a status quo which suited Mia’s personality perfectly—she liked adventure and excitement, but not too much. If controlled chaos was a thing, that was what she was aiming for.
A moment later she sensed a person right behind her, felt their body heat, and then gentle hands covered her eyes. A whiff of cologne reached her nostrils, telling her exactly who it was, but she kept quiet—she didn’t want to ruin the game.

*****
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Join her Facebook group for exclusive cover reveals, sneak peeks and more! Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter here: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Don't Let Go by Lynn Burke #changeling #BDSM


Don’t Let Go

Darkest Desires #1
Publisher: Changeling Press

Keywords:  BDSM, Silver Fox, MayDecember, EroticRomance, FemDom, Domme, Contemporary, Novella, Series


Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control -- until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?

PURCHASE LINKS: 
EXCERPT:
I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.
As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.
I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.
Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating -- if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.
Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night -- Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.
Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.
My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.
Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted -- craved -- submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.
My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.
No such fucking luck.
I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.
A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.
Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.
“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.
I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.
A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.
I knew what she saw -- what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.
Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.
She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.
From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt -- also black -- over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.
My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.
I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.
“You will call me Mistress.”
© Lynn Burke 2018
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.

Tuesday, August 7, 2018

#Roosters ~ PARTY ANIMAL by Gale Stanley Roosters 6


Casey Cox is a porn star legend. Life is a never-ending party and there’s always a hot guy or two willing to play. Then Casey meets the one man who isn’t interested and suddenly it’s a challenge he can’t resist.

Get your copy at Changeling Press.


Pre-Order At:


Teaser

I stared at my reflection in the mirror and gave myself an eight out of ten. All those late nights were finally taking a toll. Would I give them up? Hell no! Life was a never-ending party, and the guest list changed every day. I liked it that way. Variety is the spice of life after all.
But right now, I needed to do damage control. I read somewhere that the eyes are the mirror of the soul. If that was true then my soul must be puffy, wrinkled, and bloodshot. It wasn’t a good look. Thank God for eye drops. A few in each eye made my whites pop. I practiced my sultry green stare in the mirror. Not bad, but the bags had to go. I reached for the Preparation H and applied it liberally. My sister swears by the stuff.

I’d showered and shaved at home, but my hair needed a redo. My trademark look is a messy bedhead, black locks flying every which way. I don’t like to disappoint the fans and it’s easy enough to get the look. It’s all about a good haircut and a few styling tricks, like gel.

I stepped back from the mirror to check out my body. No problems there. Six feet, two inches of lean muscle thanks to an exercise routine that keeps me camera ready. No matter how late I go to bed, I wake up early and use the small gym in my apartment building. A good workout always makes me feel better. Today, we’re shooting early, so I did a short routine, just long enough to break a sweat and get my blood pumping. Then it was SSME, and I’m not talking kinky sex. Shower, shave, moisturize, enema. I like to be clean for the close-up shots.

Yeah, I bare it all, but it’s all for the sake of art. I’m not kidding. One of my first jobs when I came to LA was as an artist’s model. At first, because of my strict upbringing, I was uncomfortable posing nude, but eventually I realized that the human body is a beautiful thing. It was a liberating experience.
Today, I’ve convinced myself that filming is an art form. There are thousands, maybe millions of guys out there staring at my naked body. What I do prompts an emotional response and gives them pleasure, just like other art forms. Art is in the eye of the beholder, after all. It’s one hell of an ego trip.

Check out all the books in the Roosters series:

Author Bio and Links


Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.