Category Archives: Review to Come
RELEASE BLAST ~ Lustful Longings (Lustful Trilogy #3) by Maggie Adams
The Widow finds exactly what she desires in her lover and is determined to keep him at all costs.
Out Feb 13th – Lustful Longings by Maggie Adams
Follow the blitz and enter to #win a $10 Amazon gift card or one of five digital copies of Lustful Letters!
Title: Lustful Longings
Series: Lustful Trilogy #3
Author: Maggie Adams
Genre: Women’s Erotica
Release Date: February 13. 2018
Length: 76 Pages
Blurb:
I have found my dream lover and, appropriately, his name is Morpheus. He has shown me how to be truly free in my sexuality; to trust another human being with my deepest desires; and to love without reservation or fear. We have a true power exchange when we play – no, we do not play, we live! Our lives and our sexual lifestyle have evolved so that one constantly compliments the other. I can’t imagine a happier, more fulfilling life.
Then, my world tilts on its axis.
Reality returns with a vengeance. My lover becomes ill and I find myself fighting for my former, happy life. Morpheus is ambivalent to his fate. He is more concerned with my future happiness without him. His abhorrence to leave me “a Widow” again, alone and afraid, leads him to formulate a plan to send me into the arms of another man. But his desperate longings to see me in passion’s embrace make him take the role of a cuckold. He has picked the man to help me if he should not survive, but it’s a double-edged sword as he forces himself to watch me falling deeper into the arms of the man he has chosen to replace him in all ways.
My guilt and longing for this man sends me to seek the help of an old friend. While I am welcomed with open arms, the lovely Bianca has plans of her own. In the end, it is up to Morpheus to either release me into the arms of new lovers, or allow me to ease his Lustful Longings in a new way.
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Excerpt One:
I lounge upon the chaise, sipping sparkling champagne as the New Year begins. My lover is poised on the tufted velvet arm, his fingers gliding along the exposed skin of my collarbone. The mirrored walls reflect the beauty of our surroundings and the people within. The chandeliers twinkle brightly near the mahogany ceiling, the gilt and glamour of the 1920’s permeates this particular party, and yet, the myriad collection of apparatuses for bondage, pain, and pleasure take up most of the room. A surrealistic interpretation of the predilections (or perhaps peculiarities is a better word), of the Master of House.
And here we sit in the middle of it all, my lover and me. He is adorned in the requisite tuxedo, it is a formal affair after all, with the only nod to the true nature of this gathering, a slim crop in his hand. He told me he really should have a walking stick to complete the outfit, but I wasn’t quite ready for that type of fun yet.
While he was the epitome of formal elegance, I, on the other hand, was resplendent in a red satin Merrywidow with black lace overlay and pretty red bows fastening the finest silk stockings that encased my legs. Black opera gloves covered my hands and arms, pearl bracelets and ruby rings adding charm. The large ruby and gold earrings that swayed when I turned my head and the diamond clip that held back my hair were the real thing.
My Master was a generous man and wanted everyone to know it, so for me it was jewelry; for others, it was a simple offer to one and all to sample the delight he was privileged to call his own. So, I sat with him, the corset pushing up my breasts until my nipples tipped the edge of lace and allowed strangers to rub or pinch “the raspberry perfections” that my Master tasted every night. I didn’t mind. There was something quite exciting about another man or woman touching me while my Master looked on. It stirred the recklessness within me and made our love play more explosive.
I smiled to myself and took a sip of the champagne. If the folks back home could see me now. They would raise scandalous eyebrows to the ceiling, send prayers for my sinful ways in the Sunday sermon, and whisper of the “Merry Widow” at the local Moose club. All would be filled with righteous indignation that someone like me had ever graced their idyllic community.
I parted my legs on the chaise as my Master requested, the warm air hitting my nakedness. The scent of my arousal permeated the air while a woman tentatively touched my slick labia. Yes, the old town would be in an outrage at my debauchery. Especially if I ever published my dear diary. More specifically, if I didn’t change the names to protect the not-so-innocent of their town within the pages of my sexual journal. That’s right; although many wore masks to the dungeon parties, I knew who each member or guest was. After all, my Master owned the most exclusive club in town.
I sighed as a wave of pleasure coursed through me while the young woman licked her fingers. I raised my glass as her companion shouted, “To the Widow and her Morpheus! You make all our dreams come true!”
Excerpt Two:
My hand caresses your neck, my lovely widow, drawing you in for a kiss, and I suck your lower lip between my lips possessively and suggestively, kissing you lightly, then with more passion.
Your kisses inflame me! My heart is pounding. I feel your lips so firm and unyielding and I melt. Yes! This! This is what I need so desperately. To be cherished, adored, caressed…Your hand slides down the small of my back, lingers on my bottom, then pulls me toward you, sliding me onto your lap, where your arousal for me is evident… I suck your tongue into my mouth in appreciation for the tender caress and feel my head swirl in amorous intoxication.
Mmm, kisses, the brush of your fingertips along my throat, the taste of your skin on my tongue….
Do you feel the surge of arousal pumping through my veins as we begin to touch?
Yes! I feel your need and I wiggle a bit to fuel the fire, knowing the dampness between my legs is caused by you, how you kiss me, touch me, desire me….it adds to my need for you.
Ahh, my breath hitches, my stomach clenches as your fingertips glide, igniting the fire along my skin.
Our lips meet again, and we are transported to the place where desires are like wishes granted; fulfilled at the touch of lips, the subtle shifting of bodies, the tender gazes of lovers entwined. I am impatient for more, and yet I don’t want this moment to end…. Kiss me again and again! For there is only the moment and the two of us. You are everything to me, Morpheus.
I waited for his next text. It never came. After a few moments, I sashayed into the living room, naked, of course, because that was the way he liked to see me at home. I saw him sitting in the chair, looking out over the ocean.
“Sweetheart?” I approached with a laugh. “I want more than texts and kisses, you know. We can’t role play, if you don’t ‘play’”.
It was then that he turned his head, his mouth curled down and drooping. The vacant look in his eyes was chilling.
“Mama?”
With horror, I grabbed the phone from his limp hand and dialed 911.
About Maggie Adams:
Maggie Adams is an Amazon Best Selling contemporary romance author. Her first book in the Tempered Steel Series, Whistlin’ Dixie, debuted in Amazon’s Top 100 for Women’s Fiction, humor, on November, 2014. Since then, she has consistently made the Amazon best seller 5-star list with Leather and Lace, Something’s Gotta Give, and Love, Marriage & Mayhem. She is also the recipient of the Dayreader Review’s Best New Series Award for 2015. Her series has launched the tiny town of Grafton, Illinois, into International recognition with sales in Mexico, Ireland, Scotland, Australia and the UK.
Back home, she resides in the Midwest, with her high school sweetheart, Ned, and their children, Katie (Kyle) and Ross (Valerie) and first granddaughter, Lorelei, otherwise known as “The Boss”
You can connect with her online at:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads | Instagram | Pinterest | BookBub
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COVER REVEAL ~ To the Fall by Prescott Lane
To the Fall by Prescott Lane
Publication Date: March 8th, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance
You know the story.
Boy meets girl, they fall in love, two kids, white picket fence.
This isn’t that story.
This is more like . . .
Man meets woman. Man sleeps with woman.
Man meets another woman, sleeps with her.
And so on. You get the idea.
I own a small boutique hotel in New Orleans, the Kingston. I’ve seen men do some stupid stuff in the name of the woman they love, or at least the woman they love for the night.
That’s not me. I’m always in control. You’d be surprised how much you can get away with on just good manners and a smile. It’s the only way to keep my secrets safely locked away.
And my smile hides a lot. Until her.
She turns me down flat. Playing hard to get is my favorite game. It’s the thrill of the chase.
Only problem is, I think it’s me that’s getting caught.
Meet the Author:
Prescott Lane is the Amazon best-selling author of Stripped Raw. She’s got seven other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace, Layers of Her, The Reason for Me, and The Sex Bucket List. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and holds a degree in sociology and a MSW from Tulane University. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.
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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ The Ones Who Got Away by Roni Loren
“Phenomenal. Gets my highest recommendation!”
—LORELEI JAMES, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author
BLURB:
It’s been twelve years since tragedy struck the senior class of Long Acre High School. Only a few students survived that fateful night—a group the media dubbed The Ones Who Got Away.
Liv Arias thought she’d never return to Long Acre—until a documentary brings her and the other survivors back home. Suddenly her old flame, Finn Dorsey, is closer than ever, and their attraction is still white-hot. When a searing kiss reignites their passion, Liv realizes this rough-around-the-edges cop might be exactly what she needs…
Liv’s words cut off as Finn got closer. The man approaching was nothing like the boy she’d known. The bulky football muscles had streamlined into a harder, leaner package and the look in his deep green eyes held no trace of boyish innocence.
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EXCERPT:
Setup: This scene takes place during an interview for the documentary the survivors are participating in.
“He cursed at me, told me to stay put, and wedged a chair against the outside of the door.” Liv rubbed her lips together. “After that, I heard more shots.”
“Presumably when he and Trevor shot at”—Daniel checked his notes—“Finn Dorsey and Rebecca Lindt.”
Liv reached for her water and took a slow sip, trying not to hear the sounds of that night in her head. The gun going off in that steady, unrelenting way. The cries for help. A Mariah Carey song still playing in the gym. Her own rapid breath as she huddled in that closet and did—nothing. Frozen. For five hours. Only the chair against the door had alerted the SWAT team someone was in there after everything was over. “Yes. I didn’t see any of it, but I know Finn was shot protecting Rebecca. You’d have to ask Rebecca about that part.”
“I did ask her. I plan to ask Finn, too.”
Liv’s head snapped upward at that, the words yanking her out of the memories like a stage hook. “What?”
“Mr. Dorsey is my next interview.”
She stared at Daniel, not sure if she’d heard the words right. “Finn’s here?”
She barely resisted saying, He exists? The guy had become a ghost after the awful months following the shooting. He’d gotten a ton of press for being a hero, and the media had played up the story to the nth degree. The star athlete and son of a local business owner taking a bullet for his date. But within a year, his family had rented out their house and moved out of town, running from the spotlight like everyone else. No one wanted to be that brand of famous.
Liv hadn’t heard anything about him since, and he never gave interviews. She’d decided that he had probably moved to some remote tropical island and changed his name. She would’ve skipped town back then, too—if she’d had the funds to do it.
“Yes,” Daniel said, tipping his head toward the spot over her left shoulder. “He got here a few minutes ago. He’s declined to be on camera, but he’s agreed to an interview.”
With that, she couldn’t help but turn and follow the interviewer’s gaze. Leaning against the wall in the shadows of the darkened gym was a man with dark hair, black T-shirt, and jeans. He looked up from the phone in his hand, as if hearing his name, and peered in their direction. He was too far away for her to read his expression or see the details of his face, but a jolt of bone-deep recognition went through her. “Oh.”
“Hey, we should invite him to join you for this part since you were both close to the same place at the same time. We’ll get a more accurate timeline that way.”
“What? I mean, no, that’s not—”
“Jim, can you turn off the camera? I think this will be important. Mr. Dorsey,” Daniel called out, “would you mind if I asked you a few questions now? The camera’s off.”
The cameraman went about shutting things down, and Finn pushed away from the wall.
Liv’s heart leapt into her throat and tried to escape. She’d avoided Finn after everything had happened, not just from hurt, but because seeing his face, even on television, would trigger the flashbacks. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Seeing Finn after all these years shouldn’t concern her. Still, she had the distinct urge to make tracks to the back door. She slid out of the director’s chair she’d been sitting in. “I think I’ve probably given you everything I have to add. I wasn’t in the gym, and my story is really just me cowering in the closet. Not that interesting—”
Her words cut off, her voice dying a quick death, as Finn got closer and some of the studio lights caught him in their glare. The man approaching was nothing like the boy she’d known. The bulky football muscles had streamlined into a harder, leaner package. The smooth face was now dusted with scruff, and the look in his deep-green eyes held no trace of boyish innocence. A thousand things were in those eyes. A thousand things welled up in Liv.
Finn Dorsey had become a man. And a stranger. The only familiar thing was the sharp, undeniable kick of awareness she’d always had anytime the guy was around. Time had only made the effect more potent. Without thinking, her gaze drifted to his hands. Big, capable hands that had once held her. When she’d known him, he’d always worn his football championship ring from junior year. The cool metal used to press against the back of her neck when he kissed her. Now he wore no rings at all. She took a breath, trying to reel in that old, automatic response to him, and smoothed her hands down the sides of her now-wrinkled pencil skirt.
Daniel held out his hand. “Mr. Dorsey, so glad you could make it.”
Finn returned the offered handshake and gave a brief nod. “Not a problem.”
Then, his gaze slid to Liv. His brow wrinkled for a second, but she could tell the moment he realized who she was. Something flickered over his face. A very distinct look. Like she caused him pain. Like she was a bad memory.
Because she was. That was all they were to each other at this point.
“Liv.”
She pushed words past her constricted throat. “Hi, Finn.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Roni wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. She holds a master’s degree in social work and spent years as a mental health counselor, but now she writes full time from her cozy office in Dallas, Texas where she puts her characters on the therapy couch instead. She is a two-time RITA Award winner and a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling author.
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