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COVER REVEAL – Kicked by Celia Aaron

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Coming July 28th


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Trent Carrington.

Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.

He’s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn’t exist for the past two years.

I’m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I’m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I’ll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore to never trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realizing that trusting Trent isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t trust myself when I’m around him.

 

This is a full-length, standalone American football romance novel with hot guys in tight pants who really know how to handle their balls.


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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 


 

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BLOG TOUR – Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet #2) by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell

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What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

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“This is so not my color.” I spun in the dressing room mirrors, all three reflecting the pink confection of a dress my mother had picked.

Over the years, the Graves had suffered plenty of hardships—when the good caviar was out of season, when that one maid failed to do proper hospital corners when she made the beds, or even that time when Kerfuffles, Mom’s prized Dandie Dinmont Terrier, destroyed my father’s autographed baseball from the ’56 World Series where Don Larsen threw a perfect game. Each time there was a setback, the Graves rallied in the only way we knew how. We shopped.

I wasn’t into it like Mom, but if buying me new clothes got her off my back about Braden—and finally gave me some breathing room—I was all for it. I couldn’t go back to the apartment, not until I knew what my course of action would be. So, a day of shopping didn’t sound so bad while I mulled things over.

“I think you look lovely in it.” My mother walked around, her critical eye examining it from every angle.

“What will I wear it to? My quinceañera?”

“I’m sure you have plenty of weddings to attend next spring. In this, you’ll outshine the bride.” She smiled.

“Yes, Mom, because my goal is always to ruin the bride’s special day by flouncing around in a sherbet-colored dress and flashing my panties at all the boys, including the groom.” I stepped down from the modeling podium and walked into my separate changing area. I didn’t mention that I had, on plenty of occasions, bagged a groomsman or two at my friends’ weddings, often using similar tactics to what I just described.

Mom gave an over-dramatic sigh. “Stop being difficult, and try on the next dress.”

“This one is the newest from the Valentino line.” The snooty shopping assistant reassured my mother that she was, for certain, buying the most expensive shit in all of Saks. “I wish I could have been at the runway show. It was faboosh, beyond transcendentine, positively luxotic.”

“Those aren’t words,” I muttered and fought the zipper on my mother’s next selection. This one wasn’t so bad. It was a sky blue sheath that fell mid-thigh and had an interesting peasant-top ruffle at the bust line.

I walked out and stood on the podium as the assistant—a man wearing more makeup than I owned—flittered about and crowed about the fit.

Mom took a swig of the complimentary champagne. “Cyrano, she looks like a barmaid.”

I smiled at myself in the mirror. “It’s my favorite one so far. Tit-tastic.” If a dress made it look like I had actual breasts that were bigger than a teacup, then I was sold.

“An excellent choice. The bodice is ahead of its time. I have a feeling peasant will be in three years from now.” Cyrano—if that was actually his name—twirled one side of his too-thick mustache and affected a lisp that screamed “flamer.” But he wasn’t fooling me. I’d seen him checking out my tits and ass while I modeled my dresses. He was straight, but likely knew that pretending to like the dick was the surest way to get commissions in a Saks dressing room.

Let’s test this theory. I smirked and headed back into the changing area. After yanking my zipper halfway down, I called, “My zipper is stuck. Cyrano, a little help?”

He pushed through the white curtain and let it fall behind him. His eyes took in my bare back and bra strap.

“I can’t quite get it.” I smiled at him in the mirror.

“Allow me, mademoiselle.” He gripped the zipper and pulled it down easily. “There we are.”

I let the dress fall to the floor and turned to face him. His gaze froze on my tits, then lowered to the lace over my pussy.

I plucked at the edge of my panties, pulling them away from my hip. Then I looked at him through my lashes. “Do you think I’d have to go without panties in that dress. Did you see a line?”

He licked his lips. “I-I think—” His voice had lowered two octaves in the space of ten seconds.

When I saw his boner at war with the front of his skinny pants, I laughed. “So busted. Quit ogling my pussy, and go entertain my mom.”

“What?” He cleared his throat and raised his voice into a nasal pitch again. “Oh, vaginas are so icky. I would never—”

“Tell it to your boner.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave his crotch a pointed stare.

He dropped the act. “Look, I make good money this way, okay? When I played it straight, women never took my style advice. Style is my life, and this is the only way I can be around it and make money at it. Please don’t say anything.”

Guilt filtered through me, and I dropped my arms. “I’m not judging. Well, I’m not now, anyway. I was just messing with you.”

He smiled a little. “What gave me away?”

“Your roving eye.”

“I’ve been trying to work on that, but when I see a beautiful woman.” He gestured at me. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

An idea struck me like a wild pitch. “You get the inside scoop on designer clothes and what the customers come in here looking for all the time, right?”

He ran his thumbs up and down his bright pink suspenders. “Yeah. It’s kind of my job.”

“I’ll tell you what—wait, what’s your name?”

“Cyrano.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, your real name.”

His shoulders drooped. “Cyrus.”

“Okay, Cyrus. You agree to let me interview you for my magazine, and I won’t tell everyone what a true pussy-fiend you are. Sound like a deal?”

“Magazine?” He twirled his mustache.

“I work for Style and Substance.”

His eyes lit up, and he grabbed my upper arms. “Are you shitting me?”

I shook my head. “Not even a little shitting. Not so much as a shart.”

“Yes!” He nearly shouted. Then he ran his hands down my arms. “Sorry about that. It’s just, that’s my favorite fashion mag. It’s so down-to-earth but also classy beyond belief.”

His enthusiasm had my mind whirling in all different directions, but first things first.

“Good.” I plucked one of his business cards from the front pocket of his plaid shirt. “I’ll be in touch, Cyrano.”



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Celia Aaron

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark.
Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

Sloane Howell

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media.
You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways.
Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram


 

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet #2) by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

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Catcher.png

AP new - synopsis.jpg

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent — the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 


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I shot back against the cushion, doing my best to act normal. Nik pushed the door open. “Hey, babe. I was waiting for my dessert course.” I made a show of scrubbing my hand across my mouth and face like I was clearing her a space.

“I’m good.” Her tone was flat, and she didn’t even look at me.

What the hell?

Her usual spark was gone. She sauntered over to the side table, and dropped her keys and bag on it.

I glanced down at the laptop screen full of porn. Fuck! I’d been researching some new shit to try out with her, but there was no way she’d believe me. My gaze drifted to the mouse way up under the table. There was no chance I could get to it without giving away my knee situation.

Using my good leg, I tried to gently kick the computer screen closed, and, of course, it only opened wider.

“Have you moved from the couch all night? Did you even shower?” She sighed, still facing the wall like she had no interest in looking at me.

“What’s wrong, babe? What happened?” My mind raced. A lot could have occurred at Estate de CuntMuffin that would set her off. I’d been worried the whole time she was gone.

“I’m fine.” She turned around, and I watched her eyes dart straight to the computer screen. Her brows pinched together and her hands went to her hips.

Fuck me. This won’t be good.

“Nice, Braden. Real fucking nice.”

“It’s not what you think. I don’t look at porn.” I stared in the other direction and mumbled. “Often.”

“Your fingers slip and accidentally type in ‘fuckmedaddy.com?’” She scowled and began to pace back and forth.

I’d expected her to be upset about the porn, but not this much. I was halfway hoping she’d want to look at it with me. “No. I was trying to find new stuff to try out on you. If you must know.”

Her lips curled like she might smile, and then they mashed back into a thin line.

So close.

“Have they said if you’re going to be traded or not?” She took another step toward me, ignoring all of the pussy acrobatics flashing on the laptop.

“No.” I tilted my head to my lap and ground my teeth while I tried to compose myself. I’d been trying to forget about that shit all day, but the pain in my knee kept it front and center in my mind.

She made a pfft sound and threw her arms in the air.

“Babe, I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to have a clue what you’re upset about. I just don’t.”

A million things rocketed through my mind at once and brought my entire thought process to a crashing halt. My brain buffered slower than the inverted cowgirl pussy nomming scene I’d attempted to watch earlier.

Nik scowled, and then folded her arms across her chest. She stared me down like a closer in the ninth inning. “Think really really hard about the problem we have.”

My eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. “Uhh, your parents?” I glanced back and tried to judge her reaction.

She made a loud sound like a buzzer that startled me.

“Fucking hell. I mean, umm, me being traded?” I held my hands up and shrugged.

“Warmer.” She took another step toward me.

I hated this fucking guessing game. Why couldn’t she just say it? Heat rushed into my face, and my body tensed.

“Can you just tell me? Please. Stop fucking around with me.” I smacked my hand against the back of the sofa, and Nik jumped.

“Maybe my parents were right. Maybe you do have anger issues.” She stomped off a few steps and whipped back around. “Easton!

“Take that shit back. You know I don’t. Maybe your goddamn family just brings it out of everyone. Maybe you’re more like your mo—” I froze stiff on the couch, and my eyes bugged out. I held up my hands. “I stopped myself. You heard me. I did not say it.”

It was too late. I thought my head was going to explode the way Nik glowered in my direction. Her hands were squeezed into fists at her sides, and I could see all the whites of her knuckles. She started toward me like a possessed demon. “Did you say what I think you said?”

Do not answer, Braden. That shit is rhetorical. Adapt and survive.

I shook my head quickly and braced myself in case she resorted to physical violence.

 


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Celia Aaron


Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 

 

Sloane Howell


Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.


Visit his web page to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram


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EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Cleat Catcher by Celia Aaron and Sloane Howell

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Coming June 30th

 

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

 

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Catcher.png

 

AP new - synopsis.jpg

 

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 


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Kasey frowned, but then her expression lightened. “Say, Nik, you never gave me all the details from the lez experience you had in college. This game is boring as fuck. Entertain me with it.”

“It wasn’t really an experience. I just kissed a girl a little bit when I was drunk.” I shrugged as the first Ravens batter, Ramirez, strode to the plate.

“Not bad.” Kasey crossed her long, tan legs at the knee.

The guy sitting next to her gave her an appreciative up and down look, but her head was turned towards me so she didn’t see it.

“How much tongue are we talking?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the fall of my sophomore year, but it was hazy at best. I had way too much fun in school. “I think there was tongue, and she definitely felt me up over my shirt. I can’t remember if she ever went under, but I doubt it.”

“Nice.” Kasey set her beer down. “I think I need a reenactment. You know, to test you. Make sure you’re not running a game on Braden, pretending to be straight.”

I rolled my eyes as Ramirez swung and missed, strike one. “Not a chance. Besides, everyone knows I’m a Penis Flytrap.”

“Come on, just a little kiss.” She leaned closer as Kyrie snickered on my other side.

“No way.” I shook my head. “Braden would kill me.”

“I think Braden would be all about it. Just a couple of girls. One, his girlfriend, the other, like a sister to him. No harm in the two of us being friendly. Right, Kyrie?”

“Don’t drag me into this. I’m an innocent bystander.” She grabbed some more popcorn as Kasey’s confident grin surfaced.

I tried to ignore the hot blond trying to get into my panties. The next pitch was high and outside. Ball.

“Just a little experiment. That’s all.” Kasey’s tone turned wheedling. “It won’t count.”

“How many girls have you tricked into opening their legs for you like this?” I stared at her, not even close to falling under her spell.

She frowned. “Tons. What gives with you?”

“I love Braden.”

“Me too.” She moved closer, her big, pretty eyes open wide like the wolf’s in Red Riding Hood. “So how about you give me a little tit action as a sign of our love for him.”

Kyrie snorted.

“A little help here?” I turned to her.

“Nope.” She shook her head, a giggle falling from her lips. “I don’t get between Kasey and her prey.”

“Come on.” Kasey wrapped a lock of my hair around her finger.

I tried to keep the amused smile off my lips. “I’m trying to watch the game.”

Ramirez finally made contact, hitting a line drive and trucking it to first base.

Kasey didn’t even look. She kept her gaze on me.

I sighed. “Oh my God. If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

She squealed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Fine, you can have a tit grope.” I’d taken many a tit grope from Kyrie, so this was nothing special.

She reached for the hem of my tank top.

“Hey!” I smacked her hand away. “Over my shirt and for no more than five seconds.”

“That’s it?” she pouted.

I tossed my hair behind my shoulder. “It’s that or nothing, you goddamn sexual predator.”

She smiled and licked her lips before focusing on my chest. “Fine.”

“Get to it.” I leaned back and dropped my elbows to the armrest, giving her maximum chest exposure.

She rubbed her hands together like she was Mr. Miyagi readying to fix Daniel-San’s leg. The guy sitting on her other side couldn’t take his eyes off us. I wondered if he was going to cream in his jeans.

“Here we go.” She hovered her hands over my chest as Kyrie shook with laughter next to me. “Luscious Nikki tits in three, two, one.”

“Hey!” Braden’s voice cut through the air.

I looked up and Kasey and I were on the kiss cam for the entire stadium to see.

“Kase!” I leaned forward, but that only pressed her palms to my tits.

The crowd went silent, and Kasey took the opportunity to give me a good squeeze. I smacked her hands away as the crowd went from silent to roaring with approval. I hid my scarlet face in my hands.

“Goddammit Kasey!” Braden was at the net yelling. “I’m going to kick your ass!”

I peeked through my fingers as a grinning Easton strode up behind him. “Come on, man. They’re just dicking around.”

“Kasey is a woman-stealer. She’s the devil!” He pointed a finger through the netting at Kasey, who was doubled over with laughter.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, my hands still covering my face.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the blond Satan sitting next to you!” The corner of his mouth twitched. He was holding back a smile.    

 


 

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Celia Aaron

 

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 

 

Sloane Howell

 

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page http://www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram

 


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COVER REVEAL ~ Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet #2) by Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell

cover reveal.JPG

 

 

Coming June 30th

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

 

goodreads-badge.png

AP new - synopsis.jpg

 

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

 

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent–the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He’s the one.

 

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can’t get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn’t always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

 



Catcher.png

 

 

Teaser 1 for Cleat Catcher.jpg

 


AP new -about the author.jpg

 

Celia Aaron

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

 

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram

 

 

Sloane Howell

 

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

 

Visit his web page http://www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

 

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram


 

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Cash Remington and the Rum Run (Sexy Dreadfuls #2) by Celia Aaron

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I plunder the sea, steal what I can, and never look back. It’s a pirate captain’s life for me. When my crew and I discover a destroyed ship floating on the endless waves, we scavenge it for every scrap of cloth and every morsel of food. Inside, I find a treasure—gold, gems, and a girl. I’ll ravage the girl, spend the gold, and use the gem to buy the ship of my dreams—the Gloomy Lotus. At least that’s the plan—until the Kraken, a whirlpool, and a six-headed beast attack my ship. Despite the danger, I still intend to have my way with the girl. Nothing can stop me. I’m Cash Remington, and I take what I want.

 

Content Warning: This swashbuckling standalone tale stars an alpha male who takes what he wants. It’s full of sex and violence. It’s an erotic adventure, not a romance, and is not “safe.” If you’re cool with these caveats, enjoy!

 


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I wake when the air in the room shifts. I crack my eyes open. Nere kneels beside the bed and slowly lifts the mattress. She’s after the stone. Little minx. The sun shines in her hair, the light strands almost silver.

I add in a snore so she’ll think I’m still out. A secret smile plays across her pink lips, and she reaches farther underneath me.

In one swift movement, I yank her up and toss her onto the bed next to me. She readies to scream, so I slap a hand over her mouth. I climb on top of her nude body and pin her wrists over her head with one hand. I push one knee between hers, though she tries to clamp her legs together. No chance. I’m far too strong to be denied.

I settle between her legs, and I hiss when my cock rests against her hot pussy, only the fabric of my pants separating me from her.

“A thief?” I glare into her light eyes.

She doesn’t flinch.

“Keep it quiet or I’ll smack you.” I peel my hand from her lips and run it down her side. Her skin is like silk, smooth and warm.

“Get off me.” Her eyes narrow.

“No.” I tighten my grip on her wrists and run my hand beneath her, getting a palm-full of her ass.

“All I want is my stone. Then I’ll go, and you’ll never see me again.”

I knead her flesh, my fingers creeping close to her pussy. “It’s my stone.”

“You stole it!”

I lean down and graze my lips across hers. “I’m a pirate.”

“It’s mine. I’ll get it one way or another.” She glares up at me in challenge, and now I know I have to fuck her. The spirited ones always get to me.

“It seems we’re in a situation. One where I want something, and you want something.” I smirk at her, and her eyes flicker to my lips.

“What do you want?”

I thrust my hips against her. “As if you need to ask.”

She presses her lips into a thin line and glowers at me. “No.”

“Then I guess I’ll take the gem and go. And then you’ll never see me again.” I release her hands and lean away from her. My heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I’m toying with her. She’s going to take every inch of me before we leave this room.

“Wait.” She places one of her small hands on my thigh. “If I let you have what you want…” She glances away. “Then you’ll give me the stone?”

No. “Yes.”

“I have your word?” Her eyes sparkle in the noonday sun pouring through the glassless window.

“Of course.” As if the word of a pirate is worth anything.

 



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AP new -about the author.jpg

 

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

 

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram


 

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RELEASE BLITZ – Sinclair (Acquisition #0.5) by Celia Aaron

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  Nook  Kobo  IBooks

 

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Sinclair Vinemont, an impeccable parish prosecutor, conducts his duties the same way he conducts his life–every move calculated, every outcome assured.
When he sees something he wants, he takes it. When he finds a hint of weakness, he capitalizes.
But what happens when he sees
Stella Rousseau for the very first time?

 

Sinclair is a prologue to The Acquisition Series and is told entirely from
Sinclair Vinemont’s point of view. It can be read in one sitting.

 


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“How much for this drawing?” I turned and peered into Stella’s eyes—still fascinating, still full of hatred.

This was only the beginning. Her hatred would build until her other emotions were weak whispers next to how
much she wanted to destroy me. I needed to taste her rage, to savor it on my tongue.

“It’s not for sale.” Her words were even, but I could see the rapid flutter in the vein at her neck. Her heart was racing.

I shot a glance to her father. “Don’t be silly. Everything’s for sale, right Mr. Rousseau?”

“Get out of here.” He scowled.

“While your false disdain is amusing, I’m afraid a jury won’t find you quite as believable as your daughter does.
So, what’s the price?” I kept my gaze on Stella. I wanted her to give in, though I knew she wouldn’t.

“I’d rather burn it than sell it to you.” Her voice lowered to a hiss as the last of the deputies cleared out.

Her hatred was like a blast of heat on a frigid day. I wanted to strip her flames away, bit by bit, until I reached her core. Once there, would I snuff her fire out, or stoke it until it raged beyond control?

I didn’t know the answer. But I knew I wanted her beneath me, my hands on her body, and her blood in my mouth.

“Counsellor?” Sheriff Wood leaned against the doorframe and flipped the strap on his holster off, popped it back
on, off, on, off, on.

Stella held my gaze as I strode past.

“Maybe we can continue negotiations the next time I visit.”

“You already took everything you wanted.” Her father’s voice was like a claw in my eardrum.

I turned on my heel and eyed Stella up and down. The line of her legs, the flare of her hips, trim waist, and high,
round tits. She shifted uncomfortably under my scrutiny.

I held her defiant gaze. “I’ll decide when I’ve taken everything I want.”


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Series Reading Order

 

                                                                    Sinclair (Acquisition, #0.5)   

   


Counsellor (Acquisition, #1)   

 

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

Magnate (Acquisition, #2)   

   

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA

 

Sovereign (Acquisition, #3)

 

Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA   

 


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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

 

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram


 

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BLOG TOUR ~ Cash Remington and the Missing Heiress by Celia Aaron

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

 

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I’m the best operator in the entire agency. The plum assignments—always mine. So when an American heiress goes missing, I’m the guy they call to get her back. Rescuing Collette Stanford is my mission. What I do to her after that is purely up to me, as long as she makes it back to the States in one piece. I’ll kill the bad guys, get the girl, and get a little taste of what the heiress has to offer. None of this is negotiable. I’m Cash Remington, and I never miss.  


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“Collette.” I strip my shirt off and toss it onto the vanity as she walks in hesitantly, her head bowed and her eyes down. “Take the jacket off and get in the bath.”

Her shyness only taunts the beast inside me. I want her naked, showing me all her secrets and yielding to my every desire. My eyes are desperate to see all of her again, my hands over-eager to touch her soft skin. I turn the knob and stop the pour of steaming hot water.

“But you’re in here.” Her voice is so soft, like a rose petal, and color rises in her cheeks.

I strip my boxers off and walk to her. She looks up now, to avoid seeing my erection. I smile at her bashfulness as I slide my hands down the lapel of my jacket she’s still wearing. I undo the buttons as she stares at me, her eyes fearful, but also full of a heat that I want to stoke until she’s a raging fire. The jacket slides to the floor with a little push.

And now it’s just Collette and me. Nothing else between us. I tip her chin up and taste her lips for the first time. She’s tentative, unsure. I run my hand up her smooth back and tangle my fingers in her hair. Giving a slight tug, I pull her head back and slant my mouth over hers. That gets her hands on me, where I want them.

I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, daring her to open them for me. Her hands travel to my chest, my abs, and then to my back. Her breasts press into me, the tips hard and tantalizing. I need them in my mouth, but I want her surrender first. All of it. I want her to give me her virginity like a gift, something to treasure and keep, and I also need her submission. With the way she melts under my touch, I know I’ll have everything I want, and soon.



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AP new -about the author.jpg

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

 

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page   Instagram


 

ArdentProse_LogoMain.jpg


 

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