She said I was like a song. Her favorite song. A song isn’t something you can see. It’s something you feel, something you move to, something that disappears after the last note is played.
I won my first fight when I was eleven years old, and I’ve been throwing punches ever since. Fighting is the purest, truest, most elemental thing there is. Some people describe heaven as a sea of unending white. Where choirs sing and loved ones await. But for me, heaven was something else. It sounded like the bell at the beginning of a round, it tasted like adrenaline, it burned like sweat in my eyes and fire in my belly. It looked like the blur of screaming crowds and an opponent who wanted my blood.
For me, heaven was the octagon.
Until I met Millie, and heaven became something different. I became something different. I knew I loved her when I watched her stand perfectly still in the middle of a crowded room, people swarming, buzzing, slipping around her, her straight dancer’s posture unyielding, her chin high, her hands loose at her sides. No one seemed to see her at all, except for the few who squeezed past her, tossing exasperated looks at her unsmiling face. When they realized she wasn’t normal, they hurried away. Why was it that no one saw her, yet she was the first thing I saw?
If heaven was the octagon, then she was my angel at the center of it all, the girl with the power to take me down and lift me up again. The girl I wanted to fight for, the girl I wanted to claim. The girl who taught me that sometimes the biggest heroes go unsung and the most important battles are the ones we don’t think we can win.
**This is David ‘Tag’ Taggert’s book, a supporting character introduced in The Law of Moses. This is a stand-alone story.
Excerpt #1
Amelie and Henry didn’t come by the gym the next day. On Saturday, I thought I saw them once, beyond the wall of windows along the front of the gym, but when I looked again they were gone. I shrugged, deciding Henry must not have been as excited by the idea as Amelie thought he would be. A few minutes later I looked up to see them hovering near the speed bags, Amelie holding firmly to Henry’s arm, Henry looking as if he was about to bolt and drag his poor sister with him. They were garnering some strange looks—Henry with his crazy bedhead, his darting glances, and jittery hands and Amelie because she stood so still and looked so out of place in a gym filled with muscles and men. I called a quick halt to my bout, escaping Axel, who was trying to pummel me into next week, and slid between the ropes that cordoned off one of the octagons. “Amelie! Henry!” I called, noting how Amelie’s face was immediately wreathed in a relieved smile, a smile so wide it spread to her eyes, giving the illusion of sparkle and life. But Henry started backing up, pulling his sister with him. “Yo, Henry. Hold up, man.” I stopped several feet from them and lowered my voice. “Did you know that Jack Dempsey versus Jess Willard was the very first fight to be broadcast over the radio?” Henry stopped moving and his hands stilled. “Do you know what year that was, Henry?” “1919,” Henry said in a whisper. “The first televised fight was in 1931. Benny Leonard vs. Mickey Walker.” “I didn’t know that.” Actually, I had only known about the Dempsey, Willard fight because I’d seen a biography on Dempsey on Netflix the night before. God bless Netflix. The mention of the radio had made me think of Henry and the sportscast blaring from his bedroom. “You wanna tell me more?” “David ‘Tag’ Taggert, light heavyweight contender with a professional record of eighteen wins, two losses, ten knock outs.” “You checked up on me, huh?” Henry’s mouth twitched, and he looked away shyly. “You did! What else did you find out? That all the ladies love me, that I’m the best looking fighter, pound for pound, in the universe?” Henry looked confused for a second, and I realized he was searching his mind for that stat. I laughed. “Just kidding, buddy.” “Six-foot three, 215 pounds, most often compared to Forrest Griffin and Michael Bisping?” Henry’s voice rose on the end, clearly seeking approval. “I’m more charming than Bisping, and I have better ears than Forrest. But they could both probably kick my ass.” “He said ass, Amelie!” Henry whispered, half shocked. “Yes he did, Henry. It’s okay. That’s how fighters talk,” Amelie soothed. “Can I say ass?” Henry whispered again, curiously. “You can,” I cut in, “after you learn how to fight.”
Excerpt #2
Millie opened the door to greet me, a smile on her lips, my name on her tongue, but I didn’t wait for her to release it. I wanted her to keep it, savor it, and never let it go. I needed my name to stay inside her so that I wouldn’t float away like a word that’s already been spoken. So I pressed my lips to hers and swung her up in my arms like a man in a movie, and my name became a cry that only I heard. I felt slightly crazed, and my kiss was frantic as I barreled up the stairs with Millie in my arms. My legs didn’t shake and my mind was clear, as if in its health my body was rebelling too. I wanted to roar and hit my chest. I wanted to shake my fists at the heavens, but more than anything I wanted Millie. I didn’t want to waste another second with Millie. Then we were in her room, the white comforter pristine and smooth, like Millie’s skin in the moonlight, and I laid her across it, falling down beside her. I was anxious. Needy. I wanted the safety of her skin, the absolution of her flesh, and the promise that came with it. I wanted to take. I wanted to cement myself in her memory and leave my mark. I needed that. I needed her. She matched my fervor like she understood. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. But she didn’t slow me down or beg me for reassurance. My hands were in her hair and tracing her eyes, fingering her mouth, pausing in the hollow of her throat. I wanted to touch every single part of her. But even as I lost myself in the silk of her skin and the sway of her movements against me, I felt the horror rise up inside of me and shimmer beneath my skin. It wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be enough, and I knew it, even as I closed my eyes and tried to make it be enough. I couldn’t breathe and my heart raced, and for a moment I thought I would tell her everything. She must have mistaken my fear for hesitation, the cessation of my breath for something else, because she cradled my face in her hands and pressed her forehead to mine. And then she whispered my name. “David, David, David.” It sounded like a song when she said it. And she kissed my lips softly. “David, David, David.” She chanted my name, like she couldn’t believe it was true, like she liked the way it felt in her mouth. “I love the way you call me David,” I said, and remembered the line from my silly song, the line that had no rhyme. “I love that you are mine,” she breathed, and the fear left me for a time. It tiptoed away and love took its place, love and belonging and time that can’t be stolen.
Buy The Song of David
Music & Lyrics by Amy Harmon and Paul Travis
– Song of David: iTunes
Amy Harmon is a USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author. Amy knew at an early age that writing was something she wanted to do, and she divided her time between writing songs and stories as she grew. Having grown up in the middle of wheat fields without a television, with only her books and her siblings to entertain her, she developed a strong sense of what made a good story. Her books are now being published in several countries, truly a dream come true for a little country girl from Levan, Utah.
Amy Harmon has written seven novels – the USA Today Bestsellers, Making Faces and Running Barefoot, as well as Slow Dance in Purgatory, Prom Night in Purgatory, Infinity + One and the New York Times Bestseller, A Different Blue. Her newest release, The Law of Moses, is now available. For updates on upcoming book releases, author posts and more, join Amy at her website.
SWIPE LEFT. That’s all I did. A few too many glasses of wine with my best friend and the bitch convinced me to go on one of those dating websites.
A one-night stand.
A booty call.
And you know what? It.was.amazing.
I spent all night in a sexy stranger’s arms, hot and sweaty, until it was time to sneak out and do the walk of shame back to my apartment.
I never thought I’d see sexy stranger again, and I was totally fine with that – until my mother’s wedding.
She’s getting remarried, see. And sexy stranger just happens to be my new stepbrother.
All the wine in the world isn’t going to make this better.
EXCERPT ONE
I’m reaching for a napkin when I see that Jai is on the other side of the table, helping himself to a generous portion of the oysters. “You know what they say about oysters,” he says. I pretend I didn’t hear him, but when I look over, he’s staring right at me. “What?” I hiss. “You think you’re being clever? You think you’re going to impress me with that totally unoriginal line, like I’ve never heard that oysters are an aphrodisiac? That’s not why I took some—I happen to like how they taste very much and as a poor college student, I can’t afford to eat like this!” He’s still staring. At my chest. Then the smirk returns. “Might want to pull up that dress, Janet Jackson.” “What?” I look down. My left breast has completely popped out of the top of the dress, my nipple there on full display for anyone who happens to be looking. “Shit!” I try to stuff myself back in the dress, dropping the plate of salad and oysters in the process. “Fuck!” “You know, they’ve got things you can paste on in these sorts of situations.” He reaches over and picks up the wayward oysters and puts them back on my plate. “I’m not eating those,” I say. “I need to talk to you.” I wriggle my shoulders and try to get myself as secure in the dress as I can before I hurry around to the other side of the buffet table. “I need to talk to you over here.” We go to the back of the restaurant, near the hallway to the bathroom, and I strategically place myself behind one of the columns that keeps us partially obscured from the rest of the restaurant. “Imagine meeting you here,” Jai says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I really had no idea. No idea at all. I knew I was going to be getting some stepsisters out of this blessed union, but I really had no clue—” “Are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to believe that? You’re a fucking dog. A total fucking asshole.” “I really do like the scarf. And the dress, too. You should’ve left the tit out. You’ve got great tits, you know.” “I do NOT want to talk about my tits!” “That’s certainly not the tune you were singing last night.” “Do you realize how not funny this is? What a complete disaster this is? OUR PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED. That means we’re going to be brother and sister.” “Step brother and sister. There’s a difference, darling.”
EXCERPT TWO
He brings his hand up and starts to touch my hip but I slap his arm away. “Don’t touch me!” He looks at me intensely. “You know you want me to.” His voice is low, a cross between a whisper and a growl. “You know you’d like nothing more than for me to take you right here, rip that tiny fucking dress off of you, and fuck you senseless. You know you want that. And so do I.”
Series Reading Order
Part Two Releasing June 25th
Part Three Releasing July 3rd
Part Four Releasing July 10th
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Scarlett Ward is a yoga-loving, coffee-drinking writer who finally took the plunge and wrote her first book. Her own stepbrother wasn’t remotely good-looking, but the one she dreamed up for Step F*@k is absolutely DIVINE.
Scarlett hates long walks on the beach. That shit is hard. She prefers laying out by the pool with her laptop, writing her next story while working on her tan.
Meet Dominic Esposito, US Marshall, profiler and a hard as nails sort of guy with dark disturbing tastes. He tracks down the deadliest escaped criminals. He’s man of honor devoted and to his job, upholding the law at all costs.
Pretty redheaded Shauna Maloney, a high profile fashion model is being stalked. But her stalker is an escaped madman. She’s worth millions and her life is at stake. She’s not one of Esposito’s favorite people, she represents everything he holds unholy, overindulgences, wealth and fame.
They say hate is the closest emotion to love. Will the fiery redhead win over the U.S. Marshal and submit to his darkest desires? Or will her deep sexual cravings surprise even him.
✦Excerpt✦
” I suppose you’re going to turn me over your knee and spank me?” He could see the fire in her eyes and he was aware that her statement was a challenge.
“Are you putting ideas in my head?” he said running his hand down her slender throat to the top of her full breast. “Stop trying to get involved in the case I’m working on. I told you this case is definitely off limits. You never listen.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I could be of some help to you?”
“Do you want to help me?” His voice was low and sadistic. One of his hands cupped her breast, she gasped. His thumb rubbed the nipple though the flimsy bra she wore. “You know what I like,” he said moving his body in on hers. “You’re fine Shauna, the best piece of ass I’ve ever had, but this relationship has boundaries and that boundary is my job. Do you understand?”
“Fuck you, Esposito,” she whispered.
He was fast and strong. She was over his knees in record time. One hand held her down and the other tore at her panties. Before she could protest, his large strong hand came down on the cheeks of her ass. Whack!
“Ouch! I was kidding you bastard!” she screamed.
“I’m not,” he said as he grinned and felt the blood rush down to the base of his cock. “In fact I’m rather enjoying this.” His hand came down hard again.
“Ouch!” she screamed again. “Stop, Dominic stop.”
“First tell me you’re going to stay out of my business. You knew I was a U.S. Marshal when we met. I read you the riot act. Yet you defy me at every turn.”
He ran his other hand over the red marks on her cheeks. She moaned. His fingers massaged her gently and then found the crevice to her pussy. She moaned again.
“Oh, shit Dominic, oh shit,” she said as two of his finger entered her. She raised her ass and his fingers pushed into her deeper. He bent his head and kissed the red marks his hands had left. She spread her legs.
Ethan Radcliff has been writing stories since he was a kid. He loves creating and tried his hand at art, but felt he wasn’t good enough. Through high school he wrote erotic stories,
kept them in a notebook and let a few of his girlfriends read them. He then began writing poetry, which he kept to himself, because most of his poems were based on erotica. His brain never stopped. He became serious about writing erotic romance stories a few years ago and wondered how hard it would be to break through the barrier as a male erotic romance writer.
He delved into the world of BDSM and took a personal journey through the lifestyle, which aided in his writing.
He’d been a face book user for years. He never saw anything interesting until he began to see all the writers and then some poets posting their erotic prose. Men who were writing erotic romance began to crop up. He watched and then began to post a few poems here and there. The response was good and then better. He was being noticed.
He can see a picture and write a poem. He can see an attractive women and conger up a sexy scenario. The jiggle of a full ass or heavy breasts can get him going. His mind is always is on an attractive face or body.
His thanks go out to Bitten Press LLC and the two lovely women who run it, for goading him on, telling him to go for it and he did.
His first short story is The Taming of Molly Jenkins. It’s hot. Is it based on personal experience? All he can answer is, perhaps. The next short story is The Wait, Britt’s undoing. There will be more. He has a paranormal erotic romance series, Desires of Blood which at the moment is six books strong. Stay tuned for some historical, contemporary and fantasy erotica from him. Yes, and he will continue with some great stories including some BDSM adventures. He has one book of erotic poetry published; it has been an amazing success.
Follow Ethan Radcliff as he continues to entertain you. He can write any genre and intends to broaden his scope as an author in 2015.
His thanks go out to all his readers. Without them he’d be still be writing notes in his composition notebook, waiting for that right moment. You made it happen for him.
I’d never been more wrong in all my life. Sadie Westbrook’s seemingly perfect life comes to a screeching halt when she catches her fiancé in bed with another woman. Suddenly, everything she believed in is tested and there’s only one person she can turn to—the guy who has been by her side ever since their best friend’s fell in love and became inseparable.
Ezra Collins—the bassist for the band Willow Creek—has only ever had one weakness, and her name is Sadie. When he receives a frantic call he rushes to her aid, helping to pick up the pieces of her crumbling life—even if that means letting Sadie live with him.
The close proximity tests the limits of their friendship and as the lines between friends and lovers blur they’ll have to decide if falling in love with your best friend is worth the risk of losing them.
I looked up at the sky and the birds flying above us. “I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. I spent two years with a guy that stripped me of my identity. I feel like all I have of myself is my store and the rest I’m left questioning. I tried so hard to please him, to make him happy, and in the end I made myself miserable. I was just so desperate for it to work out that I overlooked how toxic our relationship was. How stupid is that?”
“You’re human,” he replied. “We have this inane desire to belong to something that is greater than we are on our own. That desire is so strong that we can fool ourselves into believing things that aren’t true.”
“So, I’m not crazy?” I cracked a smile.
“Definitely not crazy.”
His smile was comforting and I reminded myself for the hundredth time that everything would be okay.
I rested my head on his shoulder and a moment later his head rested on top of mine.
A smile touched my lips.
I’d missed this—having someone that understood me completely, even when I didn’t know myself.
Author Bio
Micalea Smeltzer is a bestselling Young and New Adult author from Winchester, Virginia.
She’s always working on her next book, and when she has spare time she loves to read and spend time with her family.
Fuck me once, I’ll fuck you twice … then I’ll bury you.No prison can keep me from seeking revenge. Especially when it comes to her.She, the woman who put me in jail.I swore that I’d come for her, to claim what belongs to me: Her life.
I’m not a good man. On the contrary, I love to be bad. It’s in my veins. Just like it’s in my veins to ruin her.
She’s an actress, pretending to be a saint, but we both know that isn’t true. One way or another, she’ll pay for what she did.
I will hunt for her. Make her fear me. Make her body mine.
Bad deeds never go unpunished … And I always go out with a bang.
WARNING: This book is a DARK ROMANCE STANDALONE – it has a non-conventional ending. This isn’t rainbow sprinkles & unicorn fluff. It’s a dark, thrilling journey of two people clashing over love, lust, and hatred. Heed the warning. Contains graphic violence, alcohol, drugs & other disturbing content.
Frowning, I walk toward the door and notice it’s been left open. Outside are red drops scattered across the floor. I lean forward, so I can scour the premise, and that’s when I notice the pool of blood lying on the porch.
My eyes widen and I scream.
Stumbling backward inside the house, I slam the door shut with shaky hands.
That blood, is it Arthur’s? What’s going on? Is he here?
Shit, I knew it.
I immediately reach for my umbrella stand and fish out the rifle hidden behind all the umbrellas. I should’ve prepared more for this day, but I didn’t think it would arrive so soon. I lock and load the rifle, turning around quickly to surprise my attacker.
“Show yourself, you motherfucker,” I scream. “I know it’s you.”
“Hello, Vanessa ….” His voice brings me chills to the bone. “Long time, no see.”
“Get the fuck out of my house!” I yell, turning circles.
The voice is coming from everywhere, and I don’t know where he is. If I move, I’m afraid he’ll catch me.
All I hear is vicious, uncontrollable laughter. “Did you miss me? No need to be angry, I’m here now.”
“What do you want?” I scream.
“Oh … you know exactly what I want.” The grim harshness in his voice makes me tremble. “I told you that I’d come for you. Ready or not, here I come, Princess.”
“No! Stay away!” I scream, turning to the hallway. I could swear his voice came from there.
But there’s nothing to be seen.
Nothing except the filthy boot prints on the wooden floor behind me, leading into the hallway to the right.
I follow the trail into my living room, holding out my gun, ready to shoot if I must.
But then the trail suddenly ends.
My lips part in confusion as I wonder where in the hell the dirt has gone. I can’t find the boots anywhere. And then I realize what’s going on.
Too late.
Something is pulled over my head, pulling me into the dark. A bag.
His hands twist and twist until I choke. The gun drops to the floor. He’s suffocating me, and no matter how much I claw at the bag, it won’t break.
The last thing I hear before I pass out is, “Playtime is over. You can’t hide, Princess. Now you’re mine.”
Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, and Stalker. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire’s Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
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Disaster strikes North America, leaving people without the most basic amenities. Lana
is taken from her home and forced to accept a world full of infected, violent beings. Life as humans know it is over, and in its place is a constant fear of death, paranoia, and savagery.The mission in this new world is simple: survive. But survival comes at a cost few can bear.
As Lana and Jim find more survivors, new threats surface, their past decisions haunting them as they pass through abandoned towns. Armed with nothing but the pack on her back and a long-handled knife, Lana fears whether or not they’ll make it to their destination–or if she’ll perish along the way.
9- CAGE THE ELEPHANT: Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked
10- ARCADE FIRE: Rebellion (Lies)
Bonus: MICHAEL FRANTI: Hey World (Don’t Give Up)
About the Author
Taylor Lavatiis the twenty-three year old author of the bestselling fantasy trilogy, A Curse Books. She also writes contemporary romances, such as A Reliant Love and For The Love of Ash.
More books under her name can be found under the “BOOKS” tab.Raised in a small Connecticut town, Taylor now works at a local gym, writing in her free time, and going to school at night to be an elementary school teacher.
She loves to read–the author who most inspires her: Jodi Picoult. She’s a Gemini to the core. She married in August 2014, and has a pretty little fur-baby. She was on the varsity Ice Hockey team in high school. She performed dance at various arenas, like Disney World Epcot center and Madison Square Garden. And she’s probably the most competitive person on the face of the earth (especially when playing video/board games with her husband).
Is pleasure addictive? If one person lines up perfectly with all your deepest desires, all your kinkiest kinks, would you choose him, in spite of how bad he might be?
My Stranger is about a woman who is sucked into the orbit of a Bad Boy Alpha Male, but like all bad boys, there is a deep, dark streak of the romantic in him. But her stranger wields a darkness that goes beyond normal behavior. Confidence hints at aggression, intelligence turns to manipulation, care is hidden within control, and persistence slides into obsession.
And like all of us who fall for the bad boys, AJ can’t help but wonder if she’s the woman who will save him from himself, if she’s the woman who can inspire a change in his behavior.
“You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever known.” His rusty voice turned downright corroded. “Maybe you can’t be soiled. Maybe your light can’t be dimmed. Maybe you would have been my fucking salvation, if you weren’t trying so goddamned hard to keep your distance.”
Would you fall for that line? There’s no shame if your answer is yes. Lots of us have fallen for lines like that. It’s that damned romantic streak, reeling us in, tying us in knots. The possibility of winning the ultimate prize, dangling before us like a fat, juicy carrot.
AJ’s girlfriend wants her to have one last fling with a man to get it all out of her system before they take their relationship to the next level. So when AJ feels a man’s strong arms wrap around her in the dark, and hears her girlfriend’s pet name for her fall from his lips, she willingly submits to her stranger—and only finds out how dangerous he is after it’s too late to stop her addiction to the pleasure he gives her.
A dark erotic tale of lust and lies, and a truth more dangerous than the ecstasy she discovers in her stranger’s bed.
My girlfriend wanted me to have one last fling with a man before we took our relationship to the next level. When my stranger stole me away and gave me pleasure beyond anything I’d ever known, I thought it was all her idea. But my stranger wasn’t what I thought he was.
AJ isn’t ashamed to admit she’s a lover of many things—men, women and various combinations thereof. She’s a free spirit with a rough past that left her with a need to be taken care of, in spite of her trust issues. For the first time in her life, AJ is ready to commit to one person, but her girlfriend isn’t certain that AJ can be faithful and suggests one last fling to make sure she’s ready for a future together.
When AJ feels a man’s strong arms wrap around her in the dark, and hears her girlfriend’s pet name for her fall from his lips, she willingly submits to her stranger—and only finds out how dangerous he is after it’s too late to stop her addiction to the pleasure he gives her.
Warning: This story is dark erotica and contains situations that may be uncomfortable for certain readers, including Stockholm Syndrome, minor knife play, bondage, anal sex and fisting.
The lights in my apartment were off. I flicked the switch, toggled it a bit the way people do when they think willpower alone can bring their dead bulbs back to life, but no dice. If I had known, I’d have picked some up while I was at the grocery store. Or, at the very least, I’d have come home before the sunset so I didn’t have to search for replacement bulbs by the weak light of the streetlamp outside. I was on my tip-toes reaching for the back of the top shelf in my bedroom closet, pretty certain I had a box of twenty watts up there somewhere. Not ideal, but it would do until the morning. I didn’t hear a damned thing. Massive arms wrapped around my rib cage. A big, hot body pressed against my back. I jerked, but I couldn’t scream as a massive hand covered my mouth and held my surprise inside. My heart stuttered then pumped harder, my spine prepared itself for a struggle. Then, “Shh, Ashley Jeanine, I won’t hurt you. Be calm.” A smooth jaw swept over my temple as the unfamiliar voice—a rusty, deep voice—rolled over my ears. Was I calm? Not remotely, but the name the intruder used impinged on my senses and made me hesitate long enough that he removed his hand from my mouth. “Did Sam set this up?” “This has been in the works for a long time, beautiful.” Cloth slithered over my face and cinched tight around my eyes. “A real long time.” Reflex had me trying to put my hands to the blindfold, but he caught my arms and pulled my wrists together behind my back. He was close enough for his body’s heat to cover me like a blanket. I held my breath and took stock of the situation, unsure whether or not to be mad at Sam. The guy was big, brawny, and I wondered if he was another bounty hunter, a colleague of hers, though I wouldn’t have thought she’d set this up with someone she knew. Unless she trusted him a lot. His smooth-shaven jaw was soft against my cheek as he leaned over my shoulder and dragged his nose over my skin. I could hear him breathing me in. His hands found my hips and kneaded, and I relaxed without realizing. Sam would get an earful later, but I could appreciate the scenario she set up. I had to admit it was hot. Maybe it was wrong of me, but a flash of excitement took hold of all the nerves below my waist. Here I was, in the dark and vulnerable while a big man, a stranger, tied me up and blindfolded me, his raspy voice stroking both my senses and my imagination. Sam knew how much I liked to be tied up and I knew how uncomfortable it was for her to do it. It didn’t surprise me that she’d found someone who could, and since he’d used Sam’s pet name for me, all I had to do was relax and enjoy. I hadn’t thought to go through with her fling idea, but I was here, he was here, and my body was growing softer by the second. He flicked the buttons of my jeans and they sagged open enough to let his hand slide in. Dude wasn’t wasting any time, so I shifted my stance and leaned back against his big chest. With my eyes covered, my sense of touch was enhanced, and I tracked his firm slide south with straining nerves and unwavering concentration. His fingertip was hot against me. Striking sparks, he circled my clit with just that one, avoiding full contact and making me suck in an expectant breath. Over and around until my nerves were blazing, silently pleading. I arched lightly, pressing my shoulders back against the wall of his muscle, but I didn’t beg. Hell, no, I didn’t beg. I would have said he was teasing if his breathing wasn’t so ragged and his touch wasn’t so rough. His wrist shook against my lower belly and his pinky finger jerked rhythmically high against my right thigh. Sam must have set this up a long time ago if this guy was so ready for it. Or maybe he liked the idea of tying a girl up in the darkness of her own home, standing behind her and getting her off with just a single finger. I’m not ashamed to say that’s exactly what he was doing, either. I started rolling my hips as he traced my slit, up and down, over and over, harder and harder with each pass. Tingles were taking over and my clit swelled—I could feel it and I liked it, the sense of anticipation that built a mental pressure just as much as a physical one. He found some magic spot just to the right of my clit and stroked in such a way my hips bucked sideways. He growled in my ear and I figured he’d liked it as much as I did. Then his hot palm covered the whole upper half of my mound as his finger tracked back down, and thrust into my pussy. His dark chuckle invaded my ear. The slow glide was frustrating and I had an immediate flashback to Sam on our last night in the ski lodge, using her fingers and nothing else, even knowing I needed more. “There’s time, beautiful.” Again his nose dragged over my cheek. “But I’m going to wind you up, give you just enough pleasure that you can’t sit still. You’ll scream and beg and cry for more. And then I’ll fill your cunt with the biggest cock you’ve ever had.” They all said that same thing, I swear to God. But there was something about this big stranger at my back that had me wondering, hoping, anticipating. His finger was thrusting in and out and providing just enough sensation against the ring of muscle at my entrance that my lust was leaping forward. A gentle tingle, a need for more and my pussy was soft and clenching and trying to suck his knuckles deeper. “I never beg,” I told him breathlessly. “You will.”
Lola White writes what she writes, which is erotic fiction. Sometimes horror, sometimes paranormal, sometimes romance. It’s all sexy, but never predictable because she likes to twist reality at its edges in her stories. She likes delving into the emotions of her characters, finding their strengths and weaknesses, and seeing (and showing) how they get themselves out of whatever trouble has found them—if they can.
Despite the fact that Lucky had just casually mentioned that the lobby lounge serves coffee beginning at six a.m., I’m pretty sure of myself that she’ll be down there. But when I step off the elevator, the lobby is quiet. Empty. The coffee urns are just being set up in the lounge. I pour two mugs, make them just as we like it, and settle on one of the couches on the far side of the room where it’s private, yet I can still keep an eye on the door. I grab a newspaper and begin to flip through to kill time. Then my eyes catch a pair of pink-painted toes in flip-flops. I don’t know why, but it’s in this moment that I realize, I’m fucked. The sight of her toes makes me smile. I’m falling for another guy’s girl. Something I promised myself I’d never do. But then I reason with myself. I haven’t done anything wrong. Thinking a woman is beautiful and spending time with her doesn’t have to turn into anything, right? They’re just toes after all. But look how cute they are. I’ve never been a foot guy, yet I wouldn’t mind sucking… Stop. Just stop. We’re just friends. Because I’ve been friends with so many hot women in the past and not fucked them? Yep. I’m screwed. I need to get the hell out of here. “Good morning,” she whispers and smiles down at me. My eyes lazily travel up from her toes. I’m totally not going anywhere. I hold up her mug of coffee. And then I realize she still has the thin shirt she wears to sleep on and I’m eye-level with the sexiest taut nipples I’ve ever seen. Screw sucking her toes… “Certainly is.” I grin.
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
Book blitz: June 15 – 17 Genre: Age of Romance Hosted by: SBB Promotions
People looking at my life would think ‘wow she’s so lucky’ but I’m far from it. Five years ago my entire world changed. The older I get the more I start to think that maybe what I know about my family is all an illusion. Maybe the family business isn’t just what it looks like on the outside, but the cause for my devastation when I was sixteen. I never thought five years later my world would start to unravel around me. Some parts amazing, other parts a nightmare. The amazing part was hard to let in. He was everything I wasn’t looking for but turned out to be everything I needed and more. The nightmare was… well let’s just say a nightmare. Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I knew I would need to fight with everything that I had to make the nightmare go away. My name is Gabriella Ashford and this is my story.
People looking at my life would think ‘wow she’s so lucky’ but I’m far from it. Yes on the outside my life looks amazing, I have a nice townhouse I share with my best friend, and my family has more money than I ever knew possible. But when you dig in deep, you see the true life that I live. I live everyday remembering my parents being murdered. Everyday reliving that day and everyday just trying to get by. Seeing your parents murdered isn’t something any child should have to witness, but having to stay quiet while it occurs is even worse. When it happened, I knew if I wanted to survive that night, I would have to stay quiet and not move a muscle. Even after the killers had left I didn’t move for so long that my body ached all over. I thank God every day that my brother, Max, was staying at a friend’s house that night. After what seemed like forever, I left the house and went to my best friend’s not knowing what to do. I was only sixteen when they were killed but I still knew that the men responsible weren’t good people. Don’t get me wrong, I have my uncle and aunt who took my brother and me in when we lost our parents, but the more I’m here, the more I realize that maybe my family, including my parents, aren’t what they seem. And maybe the family business isn’t all that legal. My name is Gabriella Ashford and this is my story.
Kaydee is married to her high school sweetheart and the mother of two beautiful children. She’s always been in the book world but it wasn’t until recently that she decided to take the plunge into the author world and write her first novel.
Book: Karma Series: Kings Of Rebellion #1 Author: KT Fisher
Release Date: 14th June Genre: Dark Erotic Cover Designer: Louisa M Creations Hosted By: Francessca’s Romance Reviews
Synopsis:
We first met Lauren in Rockstar’s Temptation, where she wasn’t the best sister to Maisy and tried to come between her and the man she loved.
Lauren doesn’t know why she is such a bitch, but she is. There is no use denying it or hiding it. She believes in being who you are and fuck those who don’t like it. That also results in her not having many friends, if any, and not much family left. Even her boyfriend doesn’t want her anymore – well, he actually caught her in bed with his two friends and kicked her out. Her ex is pissed, and she soon realises the hard way that she never should have betrayed him. Yet, pretty-boy Andrew isn’t as innocent as she thought. In fact, it turns out he’s connected to one of the biggest gangs in America.
Lauren is beaten and abused in every way possible. Her human rights are stripped, and she is treated like an animal. Blindfolded and gagged, Lauren has no idea what is going to become of her, or if she will ever get out of the mess she has found herself in.
Karma has finally caught up with Lauren Ashford, but is this the end, or can someone out there help her? Are there men strong enough, or even brave enough, to face up to her captors? When the toughest drug lords from Philadelphia come crashing into her kidnappers’ motorcycle club’s cabin, they find a beautiful girl chained up to a wall and made to live like a dog on the hard floor. She’s not the only one, though: beside Lauren, there are two other girls. Even these hard criminals can see that this isn’t right. In their world, women are treated with respect.
From here, Lauren is given the greatest gift. To go home. Once back in the UK, Lauren is under the protection of the UK Kings of Rebellion crew and is shocked to find that even though they are dangerous, they treat her so much better. One of these men is Brandon, the oldest son and next in line to take over the family business. Is this the man that Lauren needs? Or do her old habits of being a “do now, think later” kind of bitch, come back to bite her in the ass?
One thing is for certain, the president of the motorcycle club, who took her, wants her back…
Demon throws the door open, shoving me inside and locking it behind us. He slowly strolls into the middle of the room, his large frame is very intimidating and no, I can’t ignore the fact that he is sexy but that doesn’t change who he is. “You’re lucky that it was me who found you.” I look around the room, happy to see that there’s not as many guns on the desk than last time. “How so?” I ask.
I see the annoyance flash on his face. “Because if it was any of those other men out there, you would be naked, hung up and being raped repeatedly right now.” My eyes widen from the shock of his words and he nods. “And you’re better?” I dare to ask.
A devilish grin appears across his face. “No, I’m not saying that but you need to watch how you speak to me.” I nod in answer. “Now sit on the sofa.” I hesitate for a second but when I see the warning on Demon’s face, just daring me to disobey, I decide to take a seat. Demon quickly follows, standing over me. “How are you liking your new life with the Devil’s?” I’m shocked by his question, obviously I can’t say how much I hate it so I nod my head and smile. This makes him laugh down at me. “I think it’s time to give you your name.”
“I have a name.” I point out. “Lauren?” He asks and I shouldn’t be shocked. He is Andrew’s uncle after all. “No, I don’t like that.” He reaches for my hair and swirls it around his finger. “I love your shiny black hair, makes me want to pull it as I fuck you from behind.” I gulp at his words. “That’s what I’ll call you.”
“What?” I’m confused. “Black hair?” Demons laughs loudly. “No! Your name is Raven.” He rakes his big hands through my hair, it feels so good and I hate the fact that I close my eyes and savour it. “See Raven, I think you could really enjoy life here. You just need to relax.” He crouches down in front of me. “If you let the club look after you and let me take care of all your needs, you will have such a happier life.” A happier life? Is this guy for real?
I don’t think this place is capable of providing a happy life for anyone, except maybe the members. Demon opens my legs and of course I do nothing to stop him. When he sees that I am naked under the skirt that was provided by Tracy, he smiles along with a groan. “See, you’re perfect.”
I love reading, it’s my favourite hobby. I’ve always had ideas for my own books packed into my head so I thought I would write them out for people to enjoy
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