Spotlight — Shifter Woods: Howl

Laurie wants a news story. Caleb just wants to be left alone. But when the coyote shifters’ paths cross in New Mexico’s Sandia Mountains, Fate steps in and gives them something they never expected—each other.

Reporter Laurie Rivera is on the trail of a white slavery ring when she’s forced to run for her life in the foothills near Sandia Crest. Widowed sheriff and Alpha coyote shifter Caleb Lynch comes across the exhausted reporter and discovers to his shock that Laurie’s also a coyote shifter—and his new heart’s mate.

But Caleb never expected to have another chance at love, and Laurie has a good reason to fear being claimed, especially by an Alpha. As a snowstorm traps them in the sheriff’s cabin, Caleb must find a way around the barriers surrounding Laurie’s heart, and Laurie has to confront her past—and the humans who want her dead—if she wants a chance at her very own “happily ever after.”

  • Paranormal, Erotic Romance, MF
  • Word Count: 23,000
  • Heat Level 4
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Where to Buy

Amazon


Excerpt

Upstairs, Caleb stretched out in the big, comfortable bed, remembering how Paul Sleeping Turtle, Mike Ivanov and he had used some stout ropes and a lot of good-natured cursing to haul the mattress and box spring and over the loft railing. Anna had stood well out of the way downstairs, laughing at their language as they’d sweated and lugged the damn things upward. That night, however, she’d rewarded him in the newly installed bed, and Mike cheerfully baited him the next day about hearing the noise from a good mile away.

He’d never brought another woman to the cabin after Anna’s death, never even wanted to. But Laurie was different. He could smell her even up here, her essence rising with the heat from the fireplace and perfuming the loft with the smell of warm, sweet female in heat and in need of a good fucking.

He had no idea why Laurie had suddenly gone into heat while he was doing the dishes, but the change in her scent was unmistakable. Granted, sometimes an unmated Alpha could send a young, untried female into heat from simple proximity. But Laurie Rivera had to be in her early thirties, and if she was a virgin he’d eat his badge. The view he’d caught of her in the reflection of the kitchen window was of a female openly eyeing him and liking what she saw.

He grinned at the hand-hewn beams overhead. You know damn well what it means. She’s my mate, whether she likes it or not.

Which, ironically, was the problem. From what she’d told him, she was skittish as hell about the idea of being claimed. He couldn’t blame her, considering her experiences with her first Alpha. But it certainly messed up any chance he had with her, as well. And he didn’t have the luxury of taking his time and courting her, letting her get to know him over time. The moment the plows came through in the morning, Mike and this Gavin guy would be at the cabin to pick her up. After that, Laurie would be back in the city with her career and her life, never to return.

Albuquerque isn’t that far, though.

Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were there? The last time you had time to go there?

His subconscious—or his coyote, he wasn’t sure—had a point. He had to act tonight before he lost her. So, time to be sneaky.

He kicked off the blanket, bracing as the cool air hit his bare skin. He usually didn’t sleep naked during winter, but he wanted as much of his own aroma circulating as possible. He’d made a vow, yes, and he would keep it … unless Laurie gave him permission to break it. And the best way to make happen would be to tempt her upstairs with the scent of his desire and the promise of fulfilling her own.

Running a hand over his chest, he brushed the firm nub of a nipple and the crisp hair that led in a trail down to his groin. He followed it now, wrapping a hand around his soft cock and squeezing. It twitched at the stimulation; when he squeezed again, running his thumb over the upper ridge of the head, it began to thicken lazily.

He started a light, teasing stroke, not enough to get himself off but more than enough to get fully hard. Closing his eyes, he imagined Laurie climbing the stairs to the loft and his bed. The mattress would dip a bit as she climbed on it, moving on all fours to him. He knew she was the kind of female who, when her mind was made up, would stake her claim. There would be no fear, no anger, nothing but need and the deep knowledge that they belonged together.

He pictured her straddling his thighs, bending over to give him a deep, luscious kiss. Her breasts would swing forward and he could cup them, relishing the firm weight of them in each hand before he leaned up to take a nipple in his mouth. He already knew how the salt of her sweat and the sweet spice of her skin would taste, and how to rub the velvet flat of his tongue across the nub to make her gasp. He wanted to learn all the sounds she made in bed, the feminine moans and sighs that were music to a male’s ears.

His sweet female would be eager that first time, taking him in hand and guiding his straining cock between her legs. He groaned as he imagined the hot, wet squeeze of her sliding down around him, a perfect fit that would drive him out of his mind. She’d start riding him, her breasts jiggling with each rise and fall, and that perfect friction building between cock and cunt, all hot juices and slippery softness and his dick going deeper and deeper into her until he could feel the electricity rising, building at that sweet spot between balls and spine…

He pulled his hand away, half-enjoying the sparking, stuttering feeling of having his orgasm denied. Now he just had to wait.

Please, Laurie, I need you. Come to me.


About Nicola Cameron

Nicola Cameron is a married woman of a certain age who really likes writing about science fiction, fantasy, and sex. When not writing about those things, she likes to make Stuff™. And she may be rather fond of absinthe.

While possessing a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that she decided to write about it. The skills picked up during her SF writing career transferred quite nicely to speculative romance. Her To Be Written work queue currently stands at around nineteen books, and her mojito-sodden Muse swans in from Bali every so often to add to the list, cackling to herself all the while.

Nicola plans to continue writing until she drops dead over her keyboard or makes enough money to buy a private island and hire Rory McCann as her personal trainer/masseur, whichever comes first.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Facebook Reader Group | Twitter | Goodreads

#NewRelease – Seamus’s Mate by @ElyzabethVaLey

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Thank you for having me today, Paige!

I’m going to tell you a bit about how Seamus’s Mate came to be. Grab a drink, and get comfy. Ready?

Once upon a time, back in the year 2014, I started writing a story for an anthology call on the Seven Sins. My appointed sin was Sloth. One day, while out walking my dog, Seamus popped into my head and said, “Hey, I’ve got a story to tell and it involves that guy.”

I sat down and listened. His story wasn’t only about a soldier fighting a demon. It was much more. There was suspense, action, passion and love.

Seamus’s story was heartbreaking. His mate didn’t want him because he’d made a terrible mistake, but he’d do anything for her, including battling the worst demon of all: Sloth.

Kaila, on the other hand, also started speaking up. She had her own version of the story. And though she refused to with Seamus, that didn’t mean things were easy for her. To make matters worse, her sister was in Sloth’s grasp and she had to save her.

I set to writing their tale, but sadly, the anthology fell through and the story was set on the backburner.

Two years later, I picked it up again, but another character decided his story was more pressing (Reine’s Salvation – Alpha Protectors I). Once that was done, I returned to Seamus and Kaila.  Thanks to the help of my beta readers, I tweaked and polished the manuscript before sending it to Evernight Publishing, who accepted to publish Seamus’s Mate.

And that, dear readers, is how this novel came to life. How does it end? Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to pick a copy to find out. *smile*

Happy reading!

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Alpha Protectors, 2

Kaila is His. His Mate. Forever. 

When Seamus discovers Kaila is in danger he sets out to save her. He couldn’t care less that she doesn’t want him there. His objective in life is to love and protect her. Besides, she might refuse to be with him, but her body knows better. With both their lives on the line, she can’t say no to his aid, can she? 

For years, she has ignored her feelings. Kaila’s mission was supposed to be easy: enter the demon’s lair and save her sister. Then, he came along. For close to twenty years she has been fighting against the mating pull. She has avoided Seamus at all costs, but now they’re both trapped in hell and she has nowhere to run, except, maybe, into his arms.

Available at: Evernight Publishing Amazon.com Amazon.uk Bookstrand and more!

*this story can be read as a stand alone*

 

Excerpt:

“Wait up, Kaila.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, and he rushed to catch up with her. He grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.

Kaila’s gaze narrowed. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.

“Let go of me, Seamus. Why don’t you let this weak human die already?” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Seamus scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense. I know you didn’t ask for my help. I gave it freely, but you aren’t going to deny that we are different, are you?”

“Fuck you.”

Blinding rage took over him. Seamus dug his fingers into her arm. He was tired of all this nonsense. He pulled her closer. Her arm shot out to keep him away, but not fast enough. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She gasped, and he seized the chance to push his tongue into her warm recess. He groaned. She tasted better than he remembered. For a brief moment, she grappled with him, attempting to break lose, but he grabbed her arms with ease and held them behind her back.

He twisted his tongue around hers, drawing it out from its reluctance and forcing it to battle with his. Something in his chest tightened as she responded. Yes. He sucked and tugged and demanded more. She gave it to him. Her body arched against his, her mouth seeking his with almost as much desperation as he possessed. His hold on her slackened. He wanted to touch her everywhere. To press his lips to her body and taste every inch of her. His hand trailed to the curve of her ass, then to her waist. Then, bang! Her knee slammed against his leg. He released her, cursing. He’d probably be incapacitated for life if she’d hit her mark.

“Fuck you, Seamus.”

“Whenever you want, babe. I know you’ve got the hots for me, even if you just tried to castrate me and failed miserably.” He laughed.

Kaila spun and walked away from him again. She was probably not trying to be sultry, but her hips swayed in that way that drove a man to stare. She lifted her arm and gave him the finger. He grinned. She was pissed and sexy. He loved it.

Seamus took in a shaky breath. Watching her back on her feet, her spirit alive and surging, was soothing. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kneed him. It hurt, but it was proof that she was herself again, not lying in a puddle of blood, shredded to pieces by a monster. He glanced at the Dream Catcher’s skeleton out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t told Kaila the details of what he’d suffered inside the beast. The images of her dead body, broken, destroyed. He didn’t wish his worst enemy a fate like that.

He stretched his wings and snapped them back into place. Even they ached. He adjusted his now-flaccid cock and shuddered. He hurried after Kaila. The place appeared deserted. There were no scones in the wall giving off light. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to pulse with energy. They glowed from the inside as if behind them a relentless flame burned. He frowned. He extended his arm and placed his pinkie on the rock. It burned.

“Damn it.” He put the digit in his mouth, hoping to sooth the sting. “Don’t touch the walls, babe. They’re hot.”

Kaila didn’t reply, but she moved a little closer to the center of the path.

 

About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.

Follow her at:

Blog Website Facebook Twitter Instagram (@elyzabethm.valey) Goodreads Pinterest  (Seamus’s Mate has its own inspiration board) Amazon

#NewRelease – Rory and the Alien Groom

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AMAZON / B&N / iTUNES / KOBO / CHANGELING PRESS

Humiliation burns through Zwyk as he comes to the realization his bride has left him standing alone at the altar. When something seems too good to be true, it usually is. He should have known someone as vivacious as his bride-to-be would never settle for a paper pushing, XBox playing geek like him. While his heart isn’t exactly broken, his pride is wounded, and his confidence has taken a hit.

Rory hates that she had to tell Zwyk her sister has run away instead of marrying him. Well, she hates the pain her sister caused. She can’t exactly say she’s sorry the wedding is off. Maybe now she can make Zwyk see what’s been right under his nose this entire time — her.

ABOUT THE STORY

We’ve all read jilted groom or jilted bride stories before. Usually the maid of honor, a bridesmaid, best friend, or best friend’s sister ends up making it all better and they ride off into the sunset. So what makes this story different from any of those? Besides the purple aliens…

Zwyk has always wanted one thing. To have his own family. A mate, children. Maybe a family pet. And he thinks he’s well on his way to achieving his dreams when he proposes to Brittany, only to be left stranded at the altar without so much as a goodbye. He decides love is too painful and gives up on his dream, determined to keep his heart from ever breaking. Enter Rory…

She’s spunky, quirky, and just what Zwyk needs. He’s always felt like he had to hide who he is when he’s with a woman. None of them have ever been impressed with his paper-pushing job, nor his love of Xbox. But Rory isn’t like the others. She’s a hardcore gamer with a degree in finance, every bit as geeky as he is, and she may be just the cure that Zwyk needs. And Rory is determined to get what she wants…

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EXCERPT

His poor game system was hidden away in the hall closet, banished there by Brittany along with two boxes of his games. He hauled everything out and started hooking it back up, petting the console and whispering words of contrition to it for his poor treatment the past few months. When it booted right up, he took that to mean he was forgiven for his transgression. Looking in the boxes of games was akin to opening presents on Christmas — a human tradition he’d embraced wholeheartedly — and he had trouble deciding what to play first.

There wasn’t a better way to dive back into things than to play Gears of War 4. His Xbox Live membership had lapsed and his account had been deleted, so he’d have to enjoy one-player mode for now. Hell, he didn’t even know if his gaming buddies were still around, assuming he could find them online after he made a new account. He’d just up and vanished on them three months ago. It was an asshole move, but Brittany had grabbed him by the balls. Well, figuratively, because she’d never gotten close enough to actually touch his balls. They’d kissed, but she’d always shied away when he tried to take things further, saying she wanted to wait for their wedding night. Now he had to wonder how much of that was bullshit. Had she detested him so much that she couldn’t stand to be touched by him?

The game had just finished loading when there was a knock at his front door. Zwyk set his controller aside and went to answer, almost dreading who might be on the other side. If word had already spread about his failed wedding, any number of his friends could be on the other side with an “I told you so” ready on their lips, or worse, a pitying look in their eyes. He almost didn’t answer, but something made him pull open the door.

His eyebrows rose when he saw who stood on the other side.

“Rory?”

She grinned and held up two pizza boxes while she pushed her glasses further up her nose. “I thought you might need sustenance after your trying day. It’s your favorite. Sausage and onion.”

His stomach rumbled and he stepped back to let her in. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to his house, but it was the first time they’d been alone. Was she feeling sorry for him? He’d have thought she’d be with her parents, trying to figure out where Brittany went. But then Rory had always seemed to follow her own rhythm. What was that Earth saying? Marching to the beat of her own drum?

He shut the door and followed her into the living room, where she set the boxes on the coffee table. He grinned a little, thinking about Brittany’s head exploding if she saw such a travesty. It gave him the sudden urge to leave rings and scuff marks on the pristine surface. Juvenile perhaps, but refreshing. It was like he’d been freed from a prison sentence, and if that wasn’t a sobering thought, he didn’t know what was.

“Whatever you just thought, stop thinking it,” Rory said as she opened the first box. “I figure we can just eat out of the box, but we probably should grab some drinks before I kick your ass on the Xbox.”

He blinked at her. Did she just say…

“Drinks?” she prompted then shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll get them.”

He watched, bemused, as she helped herself to his kitchen. She returned a moment later with a disgusted look on her face and two soda cans in her hands.

“Please tell me this is another Brittany travesty and you don’t actually drink diet.”

He coughed to cover his laugh, but he couldn’t deny that she amused him. “I’ll go to the store later and pick up some regular soda.”

“You should get grape too. It’s my favorite.”

He scratched his neck and wondered if that meant she planned to hang out for a while. Zwyk wasn’t quite sure what to make of Rory, but he was just going to go with it for the time being. He couldn’t really think of anything else to do. Retaking his seat on the couch, he grabbed a slice of pizza and took a huge bite before downing half the can she’d placed in front of him. The intro to the game blared from the TV speakers and Rory wiggled her fingers at him, snatching the controller from his hand.

“You eat. I’m going to play.” She grinned at him before turning her focus to the game on the screen.

Zwyk devoured almost an entire pizza by himself as he alternated between watching the comical expressions on Rory’s face and her annihilation of everything in her path on the screen. Her skill was rather impressive and her maniacal laugh as she took out the opposing force was amusing. Who knew such a pint-sized female could be so bloodthirsty?

“All right, killer. It’s my turn,” he said holding out his hand for the controller. “You’re pretty good, but it’s time to show you how the pros do it.”

AUTHOR LINKS

Website
Facebook
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Amazon Author Page
Changeling Author Page

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Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child. Her first stories may have been written in crayon, but now she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and spills over from her professional life into her personal one. When she went out on that first date with her husband, she never expected to hear the words “marry me” pop out of his mouth — and judging by the shocked look on his face, he hadn’t meant to say them either. But, being the hopeless romantic that she is, Jessica said yes and they’ve been married since 2000.

NEW RELEASE: Grease Monkey

GREASE MONKEY

Publisher: Changeling Press
Release Date: October 2016
Genre(s): New Adult/Contemporary/Erotic Romance

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For all appearances, Gwen is daddy’s little darling — a socialite with more money than sense — but what she really wants is to break free from her gilded cage.

When her Mercedes breaks down, Gwen’s knight in shining tow trucks turns out to be more than she expected. Will the hot mechanic be the first guy to rock her world? She melts at his touch and knows that she’ll give him whatever he wants, as long as he keeps her screaming his name.

WARNING: If you love sexy bearded men who talk dirty, be prepared to have your kindle melted. This is a highly erotic story with a case of insta-love.

AMAZON      B&N       ALL ROMANCE       CHANGELING PRESS

Excerpt

Gwen

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been told no and had someone actually mean it. I was spoiled, rotten to the core, and daddy’s little darling. Or at least, that’s what the world saw when they looked at me. A perfect little blonde China doll driving around town in the Mercedes Daddy gave her. They don’t see the ugliness of my life, the harsh reality of being a Montcliff. Appearance is everything after all. All the women wanted to be me and all the guys wanted to fuck me, and that was a card my daddy never hesitated to play.

Any time he had a big client on the line, I was the one he sent to wine and dine them. I was waiting for the day he sold me to the highest bidder. I knew it was coming, now that I’ve refused to finish college. I don’t have a problem expanding my education, but the last thing I wanted to study was business, and Daddy was cramming it down my throat, wanting to groom me to be the perfect wife for one of his associates, and I was sure I knew which one. Lecherous old man.

I’d been driving aimlessly for over an hour, my mind in a whirl over my latest fight with Daddy dearest, and it didn’t take a genius to realize I was lost. I hadn’t been home in years and had never driven in Winston Falls before. My New England town was beautiful, though, and I’d wanted to go exploring before anyone could fasten a leash to my collar this morning. The fall leaves had been gorgeous, but at some point, I’d left behind the mansions of Piper Hill and, well… the houses and businesses around me weren’t falling apart, but they definitely belonged to the lower class.

I snorted. Lower class. Now I sounded like my snobby as hell mother, if you could call her that. My real mother had died giving birth to me, and my father hadn’t wasted time remarrying. He’d been through four wives since then, and his latest was only a few years older than me. It seemed every time he got married, the woman got a little younger. Pretty soon, he’d be bride shopping at the boarding school where I spent most of my life. The thought sickened me, but I knew he wasn’t above it. Knowing the sick bastard, he’d probably get off on having a child bride. Someone he could groom to his liking.

My car gave a clunk and rattle before the entire thing shimmied. “No. No, no, no. You aren’t doing this to me now!”

I stared at the gauge and wondered how the hell I’d managed to run out of gas. I was always careful about making sure I had a full tank, but apparently, I’d fucked up this time. I didn’t even remember the last gas station I’d seen, not that I had a gas can stored in my trunk. The only thing back there was my latest shopping haul. As far as I knew, I didn’t even have a car jack back there, but then I’d always called roadside service if I had a flat.

The car sputtered to a stop in the middle of the road, and I banged my head on the steering wheel. What the hell had I ever done wrong for the universe to hate me so much? I picked up my cell phone and stared at the black screen. I tried to power it on and realized my battery had died. Searching through the console and glove compartment, I couldn’t find the charger. I must have taken it out of the car at some point. Great. Stranded. It was a long-ass walk back home, especially in heels. With my luck, someone would think I was a high priced call girl and try to pick me up along the way.

A loud roar reached my ears and I glanced in the rearview mirror. About six motorcycles were barreling my way. I hoped like hell they didn’t stop to check on me. It wasn’t that I had anything against guys who rode motorcycles, but six rowdy men and just one of me? The odds weren’t in my favor. They whizzed past and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Minutes ticked by as I tried to assess my situation and figure out what the hell I was going to do. I could have walked, but to where? I wasn’t familiar with this part of town and would be just as lost on foot.

I heard the rumble of a big engine behind me and looked in my rearview mirror again. Was that a tow truck? Maybe my day wasn’t complete crap after all. It seemed miracles did still happen, even if they seldom ever happened to me. Whoever he was, surely he would be able to take me to the nearest gas station, and I could just fill up my car and be on my way. I had a little cash on me, but with some luck, they wouldn’t take checks or plastic.

I opened my door and swung my legs out before rising to meet my savior. Probably a good thing I was holding onto the doorframe when the driver stepped out. Holy mother of God! My knees went a little weak as a giant of a man moved toward me, his muscles bunching and flexing with every step. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, but I got the feeling he was assessing me. Jeans were molded to his thick thighs, and a grease-stained white tee stretched tight over his massive chest and shoulders. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as he stopped in front of me.

“You look like you could use some help.”

His deep voice sent shivers down my spine, and my cheeks burned as my panties grew damp. Holy fuck! I’d be willing to bet he could get a woman off just using his voice. And for the first time in my life, I was ready to volunteer to be that woman. No man had ever turned me on before. At school, the boys at the school across town had referred to me as the ice princess. I hadn’t even been able to get myself off, so I’d thought maybe they were right. Until now.

His eyebrows rose, and I realized I hadn’t said anything.

“It died in the middle of the road.” I licked my lips. “I ran out of gas.”

“I can take it back to my garage and take a look. It’s just a few blocks away.” He held out his hand. “Name’s Lance.”

I couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up.

“Something wrong with my name?”

“Sorry, it’s just… with you swooping in to rescue me and your name… it made me think of Lancelot.”

He smiled a little, the corner of his lips ticking upward. My legs squeezed together as more moisture gathered between my thighs. I’d never felt so needy before, so out of control. If he kept talking, I was going to hump his leg in the middle of the street, maybe beg him to fuck me over the hood of my car. I was practically salivating as I moved a little closer.

“So if I’m Lancelot, does that make you Guinevere?”

He pulled his glasses down his nose, and there was humor shining in his gray eyes. Gorgeous eyes. A sigh escaped me, and I had to stop myself from rubbing against him like a cat in heat. He seemed to realize the effect he had on me and smirked as he slid his glasses back into place.

“All right, Gwennie. Let’s get your car, and you, back to my shop.”

About the 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.

When Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more.

Stalk Harley:

Website        Facebook       Follow atAmazon

COVER REVEAL: Grease Monkey

repair garage
COMING 10/14 FROM CHANGELING PRESS

 

GWEN

I’ve always been daddy’s little girl, or so everyone thinks, but what I’ve really wanted is to break free of my gilded cage. All anyone ever sees is some rich girl who gets what she wants, but that isn’t me. I hate my life and I’d give anything to experience true passion, even if it was just once. I’m a twenty-year-old virgin, and I have no doubt that daddy dearest is going to sell me to the highest bidder. Where’s a hero when you need one?

LANCE

Women have always come easy to me, but there’s never been one that tempted me so much as the debutante stepping out of the silver Mercedes. One look at those gorgeous legs and all I can think about is having them wrapped around me while I make her scream my name. One way or another, she’s going to be mine.

WARNING: If you love sexy bearded men who talk dirty, be prepared to have your kindle melted. This is a highly erotic story with a case of insta-love.

SPOTLIGHT The Hotter the Love

Hi and thank you so much for hosting the third and last book of the Hot Model Mine trilogy!

 

thehotterthelove

 

After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea’s sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons’ girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea’s young and very handsome fiancé…

On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher’s offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new “Cover Photo of the Year”. Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?

 

Excerpt

We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space.

Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object.

The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere.

Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction.

I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame. Jekaterina?

My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated.

Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery.

I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them. He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again?

I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet.

She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove.

Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked. He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid.

I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable.

My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us?

Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved.

Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?”

I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.”

She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?”

“At an author conference.”

Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.”

“Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it.

“Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse?

She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?”

Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.

 

Book trailer

 

Book links

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Bookstrand / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / All Romance eBooks / Goodreads / Pinterest

 

About the other books in the series

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The Perfect Shoot (book #1)

When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits…

Get The Perfect Shoot at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-perfect-shoot-by-lea-bronsen/

 

Mine to Love (book #2)

The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future?

Get Mine to Love at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/mine-to-love-by-lea-bronsen/

 

About the author

Lea Bronsen

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.

I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:

Website / Lea’s Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon

 

NEW RELEASE: Star Spangled Cowboy

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Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Release Date: July 25, 2016

Genre(s): Western/Interracial/Military

Heat Level: 3

Combat-wounded vet, Tyson Braxton, feels like half a man since losing his leg in Afghanistan. After returning to the family ranch, he wonders what any woman would see in him now. His scars and self-doubt run deep, and while feeling desperate, he hires a prostitute to ease his sexual tension. 

Dacey Morgan has lived a life of horror since the age of seventeen when her pimp lured her into a life of prostitution and depravity. She wants out, but the last girl who tried to run ended up dead in a ditch. So, Dacey tries to do what she’s told—but she has one guilty pleasure, her two nights a week she gets to see Tyson. 

Dacey longs for the day she’s free to love the man she’s falling for, but she knows that freedom will come at a cost.

BUY LINKS:  

Evernight    Amazon    All Romance    Bookstrand

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Character Interview with Tyson Braxton

I hear you were in the military?

I was in the Marines until I lost my leg in combat. Despite everything, I’d still enlist again if I could. Serving my country was important to me.

What’s it like being home now?

Different. There are a lot of things I’ve had to re-learn. Like how to walk, ride a horse, drive my truck. My prosthetic helps a lot, but there’s a definite learning curve. But I’d have to say the best thing about being home is female companionship. When you’re in Afghanistan, the women fighting by your side are part of the team, so I never saw them as a romantic interest.

I hear there might be someone special in your life.

<grin>Maybe. There’s a certain blonde that I have a hard time getting out of my head, but she keeps slipping through my fingers. We have some hot, wild nights, but then she disappears like a puff of smoke.

Do you see yourself as the forever kind of guy? The kind to settle down?

If you’d asked me that before, I’d have laughed and said hell no. After everything I’ve been through, one thing has become abundantly clear to me. I don’t want to wake up every morning alone. I want someone to share my life with, someone to laugh with, and who will love me as much as I love them. That might not sound very macho, but there it is.

Thank you, Tyson. Is there anything you’d like to add?

Just one thing. Dacey, you can run all you want, but eventually, I’ll wear you down. I don’t like the life you’ve been forced into, and one way or another, I’m bringing you home to stay.

And there you have it, folks. One determined vet who aims to get the woman he wants, even if she’s kicking and screaming the entire way.

EXCERPT

Dacey Morgan straightened her mini skirt and tugged her shirt down to showcase the girls a little better. It wasn’t her first time coming to Braxton Ranch, and she doubted it would be her last. Tyson Braxton had left the sleepy little town of Silvercrest at the age of eighteen with a determination to save the world, and he’d returned eight years later a broken man. She didn’t feel sorry for him, but her heart did ache for all that he had suffered. If an hour spent in her company could ease his loneliness—and a little something else—then she was all for it.

Her phone rang, and she pulled it from her small purse. Carlos flashed across the screen, and she stuck her tongue out at her phone before answering.

“I’m at Braxton Ranch,” she said. “You know I have a standing appointment here every Tuesday and Friday.”

“I told you there was a party at the edge of town, and I needed everyone there,” Carlos said. “You know what happens when you defy me.”

Her stomach clenched. Yeah, she knew exactly what happened, but it would be worth it just to spend some time with Tyson. She might have to charge him to keep her pimp happy, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the man’s company. He treated her like fine china and not like a crappy Styrofoam plate. She was trailer trash and a whore to boot. No one showed her the least bit of kindness, except Tyson Braxton.

“I’ll come to the party when I’m finished here.”

“No. You’ll go home after you’re finished there and you’ll wait for me. I mean it, Dacey. Don’t defy me on this or your punishment will double.”

She knew she could survive his punishments, but double wasn’t something she looked forward to. If he wanted her home after she was finished with Tyson, then that’s where she would go. Her heart thumped in her chest as she clutched her phone.

“I’ll go home,” she said. “Now I need to go. He’s waiting for me.”

Carlos hung up on her, and she slid her phone back into her purse. Her hands trembled a little as she thought about what was going to happen after she got to her trailer, and then she blew out a breath to calm her nerves. The last thing she needed was for Tyson to know what was going on. He might be broody and antisocial, but he also had a sense of right and wrong, and she had no doubt that he would try to protect her. It wasn’t his battle to fight. It was hers.

She pinched her cheeks to add a little color to her face and then carefully walked across the gravel drive to the wide front porch. Her heels sounded like gunshots as she walked up the steps and approached the wood door. Even though Tyson has always told her she could walk right in, she’d never felt comfortable doing that. Pressing the doorbell, she waited for him to answer. There was a bit of cussing on the other side of the portal and then the door was jerked open.

Tyson scowled down at her, his chocolate eyes narrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. Shoving the door further open, he practically jerked her into the house. Dacey stumbled a little on her heels, but before she could topple over, Tyson wrapped an arm around her waist and hefted her over his shoulder. He slammed the door shut, slid the bolt into place, and then carried her to the kitchen with a halting gate.

Dacey clutched at his sides, the thin material of his wife beater warm to the touch. His boots scraped against the hardwood floors. Tyson dumped her onto a wooden chair, and she pushed her hair out of her face. He’d made dinner?

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said as he claimed the seat across from her. “You’re too damn skinny.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she looked down at her plate. He’d filled it with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a biscuit. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t have much weight on her. After Carlos would take his cut, she would be barely left with enough to keep the utilities turned on at her trailer. Thankfully, she owned the rusted piece of crap, so she didn’t have to worry about rent, but running water and electricity were necessities, as was the small window unit she had in her living room.

Dacey took a hesitant bite and then closed her eyes as the flavor of the crisp chicken exploded on her tongue. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything so good, and she wished the moment could last forever. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation as she took another bite, chancing a glance at Tyson. His mocha skin looked even darker against the white tank.

“You didn’t have to make me dinner.” She swirled her fork through the mashed potatoes. “But thank you. It’s really good.”

 

About the Author

Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha male cowboys and the women who love them. There’s nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers and a pair of well-worn boots. You have to admit, there’s something sexy about a man who knows how to use a rope!

A cat lover, she has more than one furbaby running around, keeping her company in the wee hours of the morning as she tries to find just the right way to say “His skin gleamed, the early morning rays caressing his sun bronzed flesh, as he studied her from beneath the brim of his Stetson.” Or, you know, something similar.

When Paige isn’t dolling out tons of affection on the furbabies, or slurping down a pot of coffee (Yes! A whole pot!) so she can get in her daily word count, she enjoys reading and watching movies – romances, usually.

Paige’s Website     Facebook     Twitter

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