Intrigue Me by Lacee Hightower #BDSM #ContemporaryRomance #NewRelease

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Intrigue Me (Tangled Pleasures)

An Erotic Romance Novel by Lacee Hightower

Publisher:  Evernight Publishing

Release Date:  June 11, 2019

 

Keywords:  MF, BDSM, Contemporary, Romance, HEA

WarningThis title contains explicit sex scenes, BDSM, and anal sex

 

What’s a person to do when they discover everything they’ve believed is nothing but lies?

I grew up wealthy, a spoiled rich kid some would say, blessed with a natural athletic physique and erotic good looks that could get me into the panties of just about any girl I set my mind to.

I wanted … what I wanted.

And that meant one thing: the beautiful brunette from study hall—but she left me high and dry.

Today, I have a heart made of stone.  I’m angry, a professed lifelong bachelor, and a sexual sadist.

My soul is a cold river.

Eight years later, she’s back in my life and holding secrets that are ruthless, unforgiveable.

I want to punish her, make her cry, watch her suffer.  I want to hate her for what she’s done.

But I want my hands on her.

Mine.  All mine.

I simply want … Ava Montgomery.

 

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Sneak Peek

 

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I ached for him with such a depth that it was a visceral kind of pain. I wanted his hands on me, touching me everywhere, taking me to that place I’d fantasized about for years.

“It’s your decision, doll.”

“Are you going to tear up my butt? Leave bloody marks on my back? Ruin my nipples? Are you…” My voice faded into silence as I stared at his focused expression that was so sure, so certain, his eyes that sent shimmers down my spine, his body that made me cave with pleasure every time it came near me. Heat flowed through my veins. “Yes. God, yes. I want to know everything. I want you to…”

Before I finished the words that were caught in my throat, his lips were on mine, crushing his mouth against me with a scorching kiss that felt like he was ravenous. His hands twisted fiercely through my hair, my body arching into him as he licked into me, purging deep, kissing me for long minutes like he wanted me more than any one thing in his existence.

I wanted this so badly that it hurt.

His lips fell to the sweet spot just underneath my ear. “You wouldn’t happen to still have that blindfold by any chance?”

Another whimper rose up my throat as I collapsed into his chest, turning to soft liquid and ceding in submission.

Of course, I still had the blindfold. I’d stared at it a dozen times. Fantasized about what it would feel like being bound, in the dark, his hands on me, oblivious to his next move, and if all my daydreams were a reality … or a fool’s paradise.

“Yes,” I breathed, captivated.

“Grab it, kitten. And follow me.”

Blistering heat flooded my core as he trailed kisses across my neck.

“And, Ava,” he added in a hard tone, “before the night ends, my marks will be all over you.”

 

About the Author:

Lacee Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as contemporary romance with a nice big pinch of kink.  Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of fashion and shoes, and an enormous hopeless romantic.  Since she was old enough to know what the word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book after both her children were grown in 2017.  Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy peeking into another world.

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Website:   laceehightower.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Foolin’ by Allyson Young #NewRelease #RomanceBooks #cowboybooks #westernromance

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A Western Romance…

When Kathleen and Carter meet, it’s intrigue at first sight, and they awaken from emotional exile. A turn of events finds her spontaneously joining him on his working ranch. Despite being really hard work, she’s blissfully happy—and the fringe benefits aren’t too shabby either.

Carter can’t believe his luck. He desperately needed a housekeeper, not that he welcomed this amazing woman into his home for that reason. He can cope with her bond with her daughter, no matter how it forces him to remember his lost young son. And he can’t give her his heart, but what he can give is surely enough.

In love with this amazing man, Kate ignores that Carter withholds, believing he’ll change, and she’s willing to wait. When she inadvertently discovers he was angling for a housekeeper all along, it knocks her blinders off.

She’s done waiting. She deserves more—and so does he.

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Sneak Peek

“I think I’m good. I should probably get to bed,” she said. “What time do you get up?”

“Early. And I head out straight away. You stay in bed until you’re ready to face the day. I’ll leave you my cell number, and you text me. I’ll head back.”

“I’m an early riser too.”

“Five o’clock for me tomorrow, Kathleen.”

“Oh, maybe not. I’ll text you.”

He pulled out his cell. “What’s your number?”

With the exchange complete, he lurked in the doorway. “The bathroom is across the hall. Towels in the cabinet.”

“Great, thanks. I’ve got everything I need.”

Did she? So near and yet so far, she hovered there like a wood sprite. When she stooped to slip the strap off her shoe, then the other and stepped out of the heels, he found he’d closed the gap.

“Kathleen.”

She looked up, having lost a slight difference in height, and her eyes flared green, the pupils dilating. A good night kiss, then. A peck. He reached out and with only tacit permission lowered his mouth over hers.

On a startled gasp, her lips parted, and he took advantage, yet maintained control, alert to any distress. It separated him into distinct parts that soon melded when she pressed into him, her arms wreathing around his neck.

He learned her, her taste and texture, reveling in her response, swallowing her tiny moans. When he pulled away to breathe, resting his forehead against hers, she sagged in his arms and he kept her steady.

His heart pounded in tandem with hers, and he was so hard he hurt. She shivered, and he said, “Do I need to apologize? Because it’ll be difficult.”

In a whisper, she said, “No need. I’m just sorry I’m so out of practice.”

“If you’re out of practice, I hope to kiss you when you’re at your best.”

Tipping her head back, she met his eyes before glancing away. “I don’t do this on a first date. I don’t date. Lord.”

He eased his body away from hers, regretting that he’d encroached on her personal space. She tugged him back. “But I want to. I want you. If that makes me a—”

He stopped her with a hard kiss. “Don’t. Don’t make this a bad thing.”

Her lips twitched in a tremulous smile. “I don’t want to overthink it.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.

 

About the Author:

3551b (4)smallestAllyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada where she and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.

She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.

A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of November 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.

www.allysonyoung.com

https://www.facebook.com/sweetnspicyauthor/

 

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In Between by Lynn Burke #MMF #menage #threesome #eroticromance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke

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Genre: MMF Erotic Romance

Release Date: June 17, 2019

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

After his stepfather nearly ruins both his family name and business, Damien Fiorenza becomes suspicious of everyone—except for his long-time partner, Ethan Lord. He doesn’t trust people in authority, much less the woman who weasels her way into his walled-up heart, alongside his lover of fifteen years.

Ethan dislikes his empathic abilities, especially since they allow him to feel his mother’s indifference toward him, her only son. Damien, however, has always made Ethan feel needed, appreciated, and protected—but he can’t voice what Ethan is desperate to hear. Falling for their new secretary is unexpected, but she encourages and supports him in ways Damien won’t.

Shaylia Bright’s father chose his secret family over her and her mother. Ever since, she’s striven to be the best she can be, unable to stomach being second best. Although an office romance is taboo, she can’t deny the passionate chemistry among the three of them and finds herself drawn to both her bosses.

A dark and deep secret from the past forces Damien to raise his defenses. Haunting revelations tear everyone apart, dooming Shaylia to second best and Ethan to an incomplete life. Wrought with insecurity and stubbornness, can they find the courage to accept parts of their painful past in order to forge a path together, toward a happily ever after?

 

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45679702-in-between

 

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In Between Teaser 1

 

SNEAK PEEK

I stared up at Ethan as he asked me if I was okay, and knowing I stood on the brink of a cliff, the bottom far from sight, I hesitated before nodding.

His hold on my waist tightened as he squeezed, his smile flooding my heart. He glanced over my head—at Damien behind me—and I wondered at the silent communication between them.

Ethan returned his focus to me, to my mouth and released one hand on my hip to slide up to cradle the back of my head as Damien’s hand settled where his had vacated. “Can I kiss you?”

Damien’s touch singed through my capris, and I swallowed a rush of saliva as my heart pounded in my ears. “Yes.”

I wondered at my need to hurry, to rise to my tiptoes to close the distance between us, but couldn’t help myself. I’d missed him, his touch more than I’d thought. The softness, the gentle caress of his lips lightened my head and nearly caved my chest in with the depletion of anxiety.

Zero doubt I belonged to Ethan raged through my body, heightening my already racing pulse. I grabbed hold of his head and sank into him as he slid his tongue into my mouth, weakening my knees.

The brush of Damien against my back raced fire over my skin, pebbling every inch, exposed and beneath clothing. A shift of my hips pressed my ass against his thighs, and he groaned as his hard length rubbed against my lower back.

Forget fire—lava rushed through my veins, and I shuddered, pulling away from Ethan’s mouth, gasping for breath. “I-I’ve never done this before,” I somehow managed to say before trembling took over my body.

“We’ll take things slow,” Ethan whispered, brushing my hair back from my face.

If that’s what you want,” Damien added, the heat of his breath lifting the hairs on my nape.

I bit back a moan as he sandwiched me fully between the two men, tempting all thought to flutter from my mind. My head tipped back onto Damien’s shoulder as I fought to slow my pulse, to catch my breath. He leaned in and kissed Ethan right beside my face.

Kissed Ethan … inches from my face.

Both groaned, and my core liquefied as I stared at their hungry mouths, tongues, and teeth, appearing in flashes as they devoured one another, grinding against me as though I was a conduit between their bodies.

All strength left me, and I sagged between their hardness, my pussy pulsing, thighs squeezing to ease the ache in my clit. I bit my lip at Ethan’s moan, his surrender to Damien’s hold on his hair and control of the kiss.

I’d said I hadn’t come to their condo for sex, but hell if I could think of anything else at that moment.

© Lynn Burke 2018

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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.


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Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461

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Through Roscoe’s Eyes by Kory Steed #GayRomance #NewRelease

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What people are saying about Through Roscoe’s Eyes:

“Kory Steed’s new book, Through Roscoe’s Eyes, is a tear-jerker with a very happy ending. If you love your pets, you’ll love this novel, because I think the animals stole the show in it.”

“You don’t want to miss this bestseller.”

“Check out this great title from this gifted author!”

Overview:

When Reggie sets out to continue his mother’s mission to feed the homeless, he never anticipated how much a chance encounter with an injured man, his small, gaunt dog, Roscoe, and sick, young cat, Cinders, would change the course of his life. With a winter storm approaching, Reggie makes a snap decision and brings the wary trio to his estate home to be cared for and nursed back to health.

Reggie learns the man’s name is Calvin, he was a quartermaster in the army, and he was dishonorably discharged prior to the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Taking pity on the man and in need of someone to help him run his mother’s foundation, Reggie offers Calvin a job. With few prospects in sight to find shelter for his small family during the peak of winter, Calvin reluctantly accepts Reggie’s offer on a trial basis, but it is only one of many trials both men will face.

Eventually, yearnings Reggie and Calvin had buried deep inside begin to fan the nearly extinguished embers of passion in both men. With Calvin drawing emotional support from Roscoe and Cinders, and Reggie discovering an ally in his beloved housekeeper, both men explore their newfound attraction, edging them toward the precipice of an ecstasy neither could have imagined.

Will the discovery of a past connection between the two men’s families be enough to bring them together? Or will sinister, outside forces and an unexpected loss of life shatter the bonds between both families and both men for good?

 

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Excerpt

Clad in a leather coat and denim jeans, Reggie sat quietly in his jet-black SUV, parked along the curb, while he drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. From his vantage point, some thirty yards away, he peered through the windshield as he focused his binoculars on the huddled form on the sidewalk as it came in and out of view between the people hurrying by. He waited for a sign, a sign that would determine when his mission would end, but he grew impatient.

The smell of hot sandwiches and fries emanating from the last bag resting on the back seat seemed well out of place in his Platinum Escalade, but it brought back fond memories from his childhood. Old Dudley, the family chauffeur, took pity on him to occasionally make a quick detour for the forbidden fast-food on their way home during his days at the private academy where he went to school. Dudley even took the blame for the smell that coated the interior of the limousine, claiming it was him who had succumbed to the lure of French fries and burger grease when his parents complained about the odor on those occasions when he didn’t have time to air it out. Reggie wondered whether the recipient of the meal would relish its contents as much as he once did.

He’d already distributed twelve of the baker’s-dozen, large paper bags that afternoon. With only the one left to go, he needed to make up his mind. Was the figure, sighted through other end of his binoculars, worth the risk? Regardless of his good intentions, charitable work had its hazards, particularly when on your own, and he’d already had run-ins with two anonymous recipients today. He didn’t want a repeat of being accused of thievery, and this potential recipient looked to be closer to the risky end of the charitable acts’ spectrum.

The work he’d begun years before had started with a promise, but as the years passed, he’d thought more and more of it as a mission. He set down the binoculars and sighed. If she could see me now, he thought. Though I’m no missionary.

Lost to his memories, Reggie had no idea how much time had passed when his eyes came back into focus. He recognized the sun would be setting soon, and he needed to be on his way. That’s when he noticed movement coming from the direction of his target. Something shuddered in the breeze. He lifted his binoculars just in time to read the words, I ask not for me, but for them.

Reggie put on his turn signal and pulled out into traffic, then pulled right back up to the curb after closing the distance to investigate the words that caught his attention.

Hurrying passersby glanced briefly at the words scribbled in rough, bolded-black letters, written with crayon in a child’s hand on a crumpled, jagged-edged piece of cardboard. A dented, faded coffee can sat on the sidewalk in front of the propped-up sign. Drawn above the words were two artistic renditions of smiling figures with pointed ears, but the passersby kept passing by.

The sign was nearly as filthy as its author, also propped against a boarded-up door in the alcove of an abandoned deli, nestled between boarded up windows over blackened glass. There was evidence a fire had taken place there sometime in the past.

Cretin shrugged the once-colorful child’s sleeping bag further up his neck as he repositioned himself against the door. He was the only one who knew a family of pink and purple unicorns still lived beneath the street-worn filth that now covered the quilted fabric. A cold north wind began to blow in, an omen that warned it was going to be another empty-stomach night for the three of them.

As the last rays of the early January sun began to slip behind the roof of the laundromat across the street, Cretin huddled against the advancing cold and tucked his head beneath the unicorns. “I’m sorry, babies, I did my best.”

Reggie cleared his throat. “Who is them?”

Cretin continued to whisper into the sleeping bag. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll find a better place to beg.”

“Hey, buddy, I said, ‘Who is them?’”

“Huh?” Cretin pulled his head out and blinked against the last rays of the setting sun until the shadow of a figure blocked them. Before him stood a pair of legs, covered by crisp, blue denim jeans, their rolled-up cuffs revealed a lining of blue and green, plaid-flannel. The jeans were propped up by a pair of expensive-looking brown, leather Boondockers.

“What’d you say? You talkin’ t’ me, Denim Legs?” Cretin followed the legs up to a wide, two-tone, brown leather belt with a matte, silver-metal buckle, just beneath a black and red, plaid-flannel shirt that was tucked into the jeans. Over the shirt was an expensive, brown, thigh-length, patchwork-suede, lambswool coat with the bottom two, large leather buttons undone, and there were gloves to match. The long end of a red and blue plaid-woolen scarf, wrapped around a neck, hung down the jacket’s front.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I asked, ‘Who is them?’”

Cretin followed the voice upward to a pair of broad, full lips, spread into a smile, and studded with white, shiny teeth that filled it from one side to the other. Above them, a noble, slightly crooked nose and a pair of blue-green eyes that crinkled at their corners finished the face. It was deeply tanned and surrounded by short brown hair with the ears cut out. There was a scattering of gray at the temples. Cretin couldn’t tell whether the guy was rich, tanned-white or Hispanic, or some other combination thereof, but it didn’t matter. He was talking out loud and to him, and he wanted to know who them was. Maybe there’d be food tonight after all.

“Sir? You callin’ me sir?” Defying the greasy, matted-brown hair, tied in a ponytail, and the filth covering the bearded, Caucasian face, Cretin’s amber-brown eyes with flecks of gold peered up at Denim Legs. “Sorry, but I ain’t no sir, not no more, just Cretin. What you want?”

“I was inquiring as to who them is, or more properly, who they are. Your sign, with the beautifully drawn figures of a dog and cat, are they yours?”

“Yup, them’s my family. Well really, only one is. Roscoe’s mine, but Cinders is Roscoe’s. Guess that kinda makes him family, too.”

“Roscoe and Cinders? Who’s who?”

Cretin flipped the sleeping bag open, and then looked back up at Denim Legs. “Them’s Roscoe ’n Cinders.”

Lifting its smooth, short-furred black and white head was what looked like a small terrier mix. Its ears pointed up while the tips drooped down, and its markings were like that of a killer whale, but in reverse—large, white regions with smaller, rounded and oval, black markings.

Denim Legs’s face softened.

A two-toned, striped, ash-gray, juvenile cat, just out of kittenhood, was curled between the dog’s front legs. The edges of its ears were scabbed, the ears themselves were red, and swollen, and oozing and there were crusts in the corners of its eyes. Crusted yellow wounds lay where bald spots covered its body, and both of its front and left rear paws were swollen, blistered, and hairless as well. Not taking its eyes off Denim Legs, the dog lowered its head and covered its ward with its paws.

Then the odor hit him. Denim Legs recoiled.

“Oh, for the love of God!” The stench that stirred into the air made him stagger backwards. “That smell!”

Cretin cowered and smiled weakly behind his several week-old beard, embarrassment evident on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Denim Legs said. “I’m so sorry. You can’t help it.”

“No, I’m sorry, Mister. We been on the street off ’n on some past two years—but we been without means to bathe ’n shave fer only a couple weeks, ever since we got throwed outta that shelter. One animal’s alls I’s allowed, ’n they didn’t even like that, but they had t’ let us stay ‘coz some rich folks done made a donation t’ that effect. Once they found out Roscoe done adopted Cinders, they said to git. I begged and begged ’em, but they said no ways.

“I took one look at Roscoe, ’n her face done told me what I had t’ do. After she pulled Cinders outta the rubble of that burnin’ factory when he was a baby—well he been hers ever since. Can’t break up her family so we packed right up ’n left.”

“Roscoe is a girl?”

“Yup, I know. I know it’s a boy’s name, but I took one look at ’er when I found ’er nosin’ by the tracks ’afore I knew ’n said, ‘You looks like a Roscoe t’ me.’ She started waggin’ ‘er tail right off—been Roscoe ever since.”

“And Cinders?”

“Baby boy, but he ain’t gonna be a baby much longer. I’m savin’ up some money so as t’ git him fixed. I already tried once, but them animal shelter folks tol’ me he was too young ’n weak at the time on account of his burns. I’m trying to build him up so as he can go through it. Only right with so many strays about. Maybe come spring I’ll have enough saved up.”

“I see,” said Denim Legs.

“Not a lot of cans on the street right now seein’ as folks don’t drink as much soda pop since it got cold. I keep havin’ to dip int’ it t’ pay fer their food. All used up three days ago, but I can start savin’ again once the weather turns back. I been able t’ scrounge up enough chow that be still half good right now out back o’ them restaurants a couple blocks over, over on 47th, t’ keep us going.”

“Sir, it’s going to be cold tonight. There’s a big storm coming. A couple feet of snow is in the forecast for the city. You’re going to have to find a place to take shelter.”

“Ain’t no place that’ll take me ’n Roscoe ’n Cinders, ’n I ain’t leavin’ ’em. I can’t. I promised ’em I’d always look after ’em.”

“Hold on, maybe I have something that will help.” Denim Legs turned around and walked to the curb. It was the first time Cretin noticed the big, black SUV with its motor running. Denim Legs returned a moment later carrying a heavy, quilted winter coat, a pair of knitted mittens, and a multi-colored, knitted scarf and hat—but most importantly, he carried a large, fast-food paper bag.

Roscoe lifted her head and sniffed the air. Her body began to tremble, and her tail started to wag, beating in time with the sound of the SUV’s idling engine. Cinders lifted his head and sniffed, too, but he held fast beneath Roscoe’s protective shield.

“Here you go,” Denim Legs said, “These should keep you warm, and there should be enough in the bag to feed the three of you for at least a day.”

A smile of stained teeth spread across Cretin’s face. “Thanks, Mister. Sure ’preciate it. I’ll put Cinders in the hat ’n then Roscoe ’n the hat inside this nice, new, warm coat. ’N zip it up real tight. That’ll keep ’em both nice ’n warm tonight.”

“Sir, the coat is for you.”

“Ain’t no sir, I told ya. I’m Cretin. I got this here sleepin’ bag. It’ll be enough fer me, but thanks again,” he said as he reached into the bag of food and pulled out two foil-wrapped sandwiches, one a burger, the other fish. “Roscoe and Cinders sure do appreciate your generosity.”

Denim Legs stood in silence as he watched Cretin carefully open the sandwiches and begin to pull the meat and fish apart, sucking the mayonnaise off the burger and the breading off the fish. After placing the breading among the remaining cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion between the remaining buns, he broke up the meat and fish and fed the pieces to his little family. Once it was gone, he ate the contents of the buns in several bites.

“Sir … sorry, Cretin,” Denim Legs said with reverence. “There’s plenty in there for all of you. You need protein just as much as Roscoe and Cinders do. Please have yourself a burger.”

“Oh, I will, I will. It’s just that I ain’t that hungry right now, ’n they need it more ’n me, seein’ as they only got fur, and there ain’t much of that between the two of ‘em. Again thanks, Mister. Guess I better get a move on afore that snow starts up.”

“But where will you go? You said the shelters won’t take you.”

“Is right. There’s a busted lock on a door ‘round back of here. That’s where we been holdin’ up at night ever since we left the shelter. Too cold for kids and gangs to be botherin’ us after the sun goes down. We hold up just fine in there.

“Good thing you stopped when you did, ‘coz they done got our money out the can ‘bout hour afore you come by. I was ‘bout t’ head out t’ buy Roscoe ’n Cinders their supper. That’s why I’s still here—tryin’ a little longer t’ see if’n some good folks might find it in their hearts to toss us a few coins. Good thing I stayed, ‘coz then I met you. So thanks again, Mister. Really, thanks.”

“Here,” Denim Legs said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took out a few bills. “Please use this and find yourself a room for the night. I’m sorry, but it’s all I’m carrying right now.”

“Sixty-five dollars! Sixty-five dollars! Mister, that’ll feed us for a couple weeks!” Cretin exclaimed. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much!”

“No, please get a room or you’ll freeze tonight.”

“Too late for tonight, but don’t you worry none,” Cretin promised, “tomorrow’ll be different. Now we gotta get a move on.”

“But … but,” Denim Legs stammered, but it was no use. Cretin shook his head. He’d made up his mind.

Denim Legs watched Cretin wrap the new scarf around his neck then fold up the sign and quickly pack up his meager belongings and the bag of food into a heavy, black-plastic garbage bag. Then he lifted a shivering Cinders and folded him into the hat under the watchful eye of Roscoe. After opening the new coat, he motioned for Roscoe to lie down in it, then placed Cinders, in the hat, beside her.

Once Roscoe curled up around the kitten, Cretin pulled the coat sleeves into the coat and zipped it up around them, leaving the top six inches open. He looked back over his shoulder at Denim Legs. “That’s so as they can breathe.” Then he pulled two pieces of twine from his pocket and tied the neck and bottom of the coat up tight. “So as they don’t fall out ’til we get inside.”

After opening the sleeping bag, Cretin laid the coat into its center and then drew up the four corners and tied them together to make a satchel. As he lifted the garbage bag over his left shoulder and scooped the satchel into his right arm, he nodded and smiled and then made his way down the sidewalk. Once he reached the end of the long row of connected buildings, he looked back and nodded his head again before disappearing around the corner.

Denim Legs waved and then turned and walked to his vehicle, shaking his head, wishing he could have done more. As he pulled out into traffic, he glanced in the rearview mirror at the pile of winter clothing behind the back seat and remembered why he was there.

Snowfyer by Marteeka Karland #rockstar #RomanceBooks

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SnowFyer’s lead singer meets his match in a fiery redhead.
The only question? Which one is cockier?

 

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Seth Snow: One hundred percent cocky bastard, Seth has never met a woman whose panties he couldn’t get into. He is the frontman for SnowFyer, a hard rock band with a bad reputation.

Scarlett Fyer: Sister to SnowFyer’s lead guitarist and the band’s manager, Scarlett is an excellent musician herself. Among her many talents is driving Seth crazy. As she sees it, the man is too damned cocky for his own good. Well, things are about to change.

SnowFyer: With the band in need, Scarlett has to put aside any misgivings she has about fronting a band the caliber of SnowFyer. Unfortunately, Seth is the one to voice her lack of experience. Which won’t do. At all. What’s a girl to do? Take the rooster by the comb and pull until something gives…

 

GET IT TODAY!

 

SNEAK PEEK

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Copyright ©2018 Marteeka Karland

“Seth!” The busty blonde caught his attention as she flashed a perfect set of double D tits for him to sign. No bra, naturally. Beside her, not to be outdone, a brunette dropped her short shorts and bent over for him to sign one lusciously rounded ass cheek. The hot-pink thong with sparkles in the triangle disappearing between her cheeks seemed to wink at him in the glitter of camera flashes. After signing his name with the black Sharpie she provided, he gave the globe a light slap. She squealed in delight.

“Ladies,” he said, cocky grin in place.

“How about a little kiss,” the blonde said, winking at him while still thrusting her tits at him, shaking them a little. There was no doubt what she meant for him to kiss. Ever agreeable, Seth leaned down and sucked her nipple between his lips, licking the ripe bud with his tongue in a flutter.

“Ohh!” she cried, threading her hands through his long locks. “I can return the favor in your room if you want.” She giggled when he let her nipple go with a loud pop.

“Both of us could,” the brunette pouted, not to be ignored. She gave the blonde a side eye, having realized she’d been bested in the autograph arena.

“Another time, ladies.” He chuckled. “The show’s over, but there’s still work to do.” He gave each woman a passionate kiss while the cameras clicked and flashed happily away. Then, just for shits and giggles, he pulled them both to him so they shared a three-way kiss. This was all part of who SnowFyer was. All part of the show. But Seth loved it. Loved knowing he had his pick of women. Groupies weren’t normally his style, but he couldn’t deny the appeal some of them presented. Like this pair.

It seemed like there wasn’t a single woman in the whole Goddamned universe who didn’t want a piece of Seth Snow. As evidenced by the mob of them outside the sold-out arena. And his hotel. SnowFyer was as popular as it ever was, and he was the frontman, rivaled in popularity only by Arsen, his lead guitarist. The band was the hottest thing going today. Had been for nearly two decades. Though they were aging by today’s standards, no one seemed to be able to get enough of them. Every album they released made it to number one on the Billboard Hot One Hundred. Every song made it at least into the top fifty. There seemed to be no end to it.

With a wave and a cocky grin, he strode back to the bus, head high, the image of confidence and arrogance. He’d just walked away from what would surely be a very hot fuck, and he couldn’t care less. Probably because he was a cocky bastard. The second he entered the bus and the door closed, Seth was a different person. All business.

“You going to be able to make it one more show?” Arsen had his left hand in ice water.

The lead guitarist winced as he removed his hand, drying it on a nearby towel. He flexed it several times before shaking his head. “No. I’m done.”

 

 

Austin’s Ward by Lynn Burke #bikerbooks #NewRelease #Romance @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

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#MCRomance #Suspense #Vigilante #AlphaBiker #OrganizedCrime #Series #HEA

Austin’s Ward

Devil’s Outlaws 3

By Lynn Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

World-Wide Release Date: May 24, 2019

He won’t stop until her safety is secured—even if it means his heart is lost in setting her free.

Blurb:

As the Devil’s Outlaws Sergeant at Arms, Austin Butterbaugh has no intention of getting involved. A self-proclaimed bachelor for life, he endured a broken heart and refuses to suffer the same again. But the second Cadence Fraser crosses his path, with her long blonde hair and curves, she owns him.

Sleeping with a senator didn’t offer Cadence the ticket to a better life she’d hoped for. Instead, she’s on the run for her life, straight into a badass biker’s arms—as his ward, under the Outlaw’s protection. Although fire flares to life between them, and Austin satisfies her in ways she’d never known, fear has Cadence’s sights set on something more.

With the senator hell-bent on eliminating every trace of his indiscretions, bodies will fall in Austin’s determination to protect Cadence. Failure won’t be tolerated, even if saving her could mean losing her forever. Her happiness is all that matters, but can Cadence fight past her fears to see a future with Austin before it’s too late?

*Warning: Contains adult content and graphic violence.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Changeling Press – 15% sale: https://www.changelingpress.com/austin-s-ward-devil-s-outlaws-mc-3-b-2872

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/AUSTINSWARD

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/austins-ward-lynn-burke/1131510578

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/austin-s-ward

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/austins-ward/id1462824697

Austin Teaser 2 LB

EXCERPT:

“Take the bed,” he said and closed himself in the bathroom—with the bottle of whiskey.

Eyeing his bed, I chewed on the inside of my lip. I glanced at the couch he’d vacated. It wasn’t nearly long or wide enough for his height and bulk.

“Shit.” I heaved a sigh and crawled under his comforter, burying my face in one of the two pillows. Perfume a la Austin flared heat up through my body, and I closed my eyes as the devil on my shoulder insisted scratching an itch never hurt anyone.

“The fuck it didn’t,” I muttered, punching the feather pillow and curling up on the bed’s edge, facing away from the bathroom door.

The shower turned on, and I imagined Austin using that bar of soap I’d had all over my body running down the bumps and valleys of muscle lining his. Did he grow hard while washing his cock? His balls?

I bit the inside of my lip, determined to keep my hands beneath his pillow.

Did he stroke his length, head tipped back, while thinking about me in his bed? I knew he wanted me—the sexual tension between us could have electrified the entire compound for a goddamn week.

A low groan snapped my eyelids open, and I held my breath, ears straining.

“Fuck.” The low, drawn-out curse coming from the bathroom pebbled my skin.

Did I imagine the fisting slaps of a hand wrapped around a cock? Did my ears deceive, allowing me to think one final muffled grunt shot cum from the swollen head of his dick?

Damnit.” I growled, my entire body like a live wire, ready to burn down my fucking life.

The water shut off, and again, I held my breath, ears ringing for sounds of his movement. Water ran again, and I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth—not that I had a spare toothbrush in my bag anyway.

A quick exhale into my cupped hand revealed I wouldn’t knock out a dragon, but still.

What did I care? I grumbled a bit more in my head, but the opening of the bathroom door stalled all thought.

Austin moved into the room, and I listened as he opened a cabinet and shut it. Unable to help myself, I shifted onto my back.

A towel slung low around his hips.

Goddamn, the muscles…

My mouth flooded with drool, and I bit back a moan as he turned. Rippled abs snagged my focus. The sexy as fuck V of muscle disappearing beneath the towel turned my mouth’s drool factory on maximum.

“Just going to grab my pillow,” he muttered, moving toward the bed, his low voice pebbling my skin again.

“There’s plenty of room in the bed,” I heard myself say, hating the breathless tone that escaped—and how the final word cut short on a squeak as I lifted my gaze to his face.

Quiet rang in my ears for a few heartbeats as we stared at one another, heat licking over my skin, flushing me from head to toe. The promise in his eyes of more than a mere fuck, in and out, thank you darlin’, sent a shudder through me.

Austin wouldn’t be kind or gentle in the sack. He seemed the type that would tie a girl up, use her to satisfy his every whim, and leave her a spent and smiling from exhaustion. My mouth dried, nipples pebbled to painful points.

“Couch is kind of small,” he said, tearing his gaze away first, his brow furrowing.

I tried to swallow the dryness from my throat as the tension simmering between us intensified, crackling with energy enough the hairs on my arms rose.

“You’re very alert and cautious,” I said, desperate to get my mind off fucking and how good every inch of him would feel pressing me down into his mattress.

He grunted in agreement, hands fisting at his sides, but didn’t move otherwise.

I remembered how his gaze had scanned the strip joint’s parking lot before we’d left, the glimpses he’d tossed from mirror to mirror as the miles had faded behind us, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and had ended up with my head against his truck’s passenger window.

“What made you that way?” I asked, needing to fill the silence, needing to end the sexually charged atmosphere choking me.

“Long fucking story that’s none of your business.”

Grumpy much? At least his abrupt words eased the unbearable ache between my thighs. “Is your name really Austin?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your last name?”

He hesitated a moment before answering. “Butterbaugh.”

The name didn’t match his badass biker sexiness one bit, and I found myself wanting to giggle. “Are you really from Texas?” I asked what Hannah had already told me.

“Yes.”

I nibbled on the inside of my lip again, unable to help from ogling his massive chest as he studied the apartment around us as though desperate to keep from looking at me in his bed. “What brought you to D.C.?”

“Another long fucking story.”

I frowned at his disinterest in elaborating. “Are you always this closed off?”

“Are you always this nosey?”

I huffed and considered turning away, but he dropped the goddamn towel and slid under the comforter before I could move.

Blinking didn’t erase the image of his semi-hard cock hanging low between his thighs I’d caught a quick glimpse of. So much for the desert mouth. Drool flooded, and I swallowed. “You could at least put on some boxers,” I managed to croak as if I had zero desire to have his naked ass in bed with me.

“I don’t wear underwear.”

Lovely. The thought boiled my blood—and also pissed me the hell off. I didn’t want to be turned on by the mountain of a man whose care I’d been placed under. I didn’t want to be all wet, warm, and willing for his huge cock to plunder all three holes of my body.

Scratching the itch won’t hurt. I scowled at the ceiling at the devil’s voice in my ear.

“Close your eyes and sleep, Cadence. You’re safe.”

Safe. I held in my snort. Perhaps safe from the senator for the time being, but certainly not from my libido.

© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

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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.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

 

#CoverReveal – Spider (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #eroticromance #bikerbooks #MayDecember #interracialcouple @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

One look in her haunted eyes and Spider knows he can’t walk away.

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Luciana – All I’ve known is pain and suffering at the hands of men, even my father, a man who was supposed to love and protect me. I’ve survived, nothing less and nothing more. When I’m dropped off with a club of bikers, I figure it’s more of the same. I’ll do as I’m told, make sure I please them, and hope that one day I’ll find a way to escape. There is only one thing that could ever break me, and I’m scared of what will happen when the club learns of my secret. Will they return me to my father? Or will I be used to broker yet another deal? It never occurred to me the President of Hades Abyss would be my salvation, or that I would fall in love with him. I never knew men could be honorable and kind. He’s all gruff and domineering, but under that rough exterior I can see the heart of gold he tries to hide.

Spider – Casper VanHorne asked my club to take in two Colombian princesses. Well, he didn’t use the term princess, but I have no doubt they’ll be spoiled little bitches. The first time I see Luciana and her sister, I think I’ve got them pegged just right. I have too much shit to do to babysit, and I will do anything to make them run home to daddy. Until I look in Luciana’s eyes and see the fear she’s trying to hide. Something isn’t right, I know it deep in my gut. I never once thought a woman nearly forty years younger than me would ever captivate me, but Luciana holds me spellbound the more I get to know her. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want a woman in my life… but sometimes the Fates know better than a mere mortal  man, and Luciana is exactly what I need.

When her father demands her return, I vow to keep her safe. Now that she’s mine, I’ll march into hell if need be in order to keep her by my side. No fucking way I’ll let the sick bastards who hurt her get their hands on her again.

WARNING: This book contains bad language, graphic sex, violence, a heroine who has been physically and sexually abused, and an alpha male who will get vengeance at any cost.

 

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Purchase on June 7th at Changeling Press

 

ABOUT HARLEY WYLDE

International Best Selling Author!

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.

Visit Harley Online!