Tag Archive | Excerpt

His to Ride

His to Ride  

Author: Ava Sinclair

Buy link: mybook.to/HisToRide

Landing Page:  http://www.avasinclairauthor.com/his-to-ride

YouTube video trailer for His to Ride:

https://youtu.be/MmY07SQAP6c

Blurb:

I hate Cole Patterson. 

He’s arrogant, rich, and now that he’s turned pro as a bronc rider, the locals think he’s a god. He’s built like one, too, and the one night stand we had was hot as hell. But I dumped him, because I’ve got a long list of reasons why I can’t be with Cole.

Only he’s not taking no for an answer. 

He’s back in town, and pestering me for a second chance. When he taunts me into playing Texas Hold Em, I expect to win. I”m lucky at cards, and Cole promises to leave me alone if I win. But if I lose, he gets another ride.

I didn’t expect him to win. But he does, and now I know I’m screwed. Literally. Cole aims to break me in his way, and if he can’t have me, he’s going to ruin me for any other man.

What the hell have I done?

Excerpt:

“Look, Cole,” I say with a sigh. “I know it hurt your male ego when I told you I wasn’t interested after our first time. But we don’t have to do this. If this is a matter of reputation, I’ll go back and tell everybody how good it was, how much I loved it. Hell, I’ll even tell them that you dumped me this time. That way we both get what we want.”

“You don’t know a thing about what I want.” Cole walks over from where he’s just put the chain in the door lock. He removes his cowboy hat, revealing a shock of unruly sandy hair that I know is softer than it looks. His eyes, light grey in his tanned face, are intense. “And this doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with my reputation. This is about me. And you.”

“Based on what?” I take a step back. “Teenage flirtation? A one-night stand?”

“Don’t play stupid,” he says. “You know I’ve always wanted you.”

 “Yeah,” I reply. “And you had me, remember? And you found out that I was right all along when I said it wouldn’t work.” I swallow a lump forming in my throat. “Our first night here just proved it.”

“Bullshit. It confirmed that it can,” he said. “We were perfect together. You just got scared and bolted.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” I say, and move to push past him, but he catches my upper arm. “Let me go, Cole,” I hiss. “Another night together won’t prove a thing.”

“I know,” he says. “That’s why I’m raising the stakes of our little wager. Wanna go all or nothing?”

Another chance? My heart quickens. There’s no way Cole could get a lucky hand twice. I can’t suppress a smile at my good fortune.

“Hell yeah,” I say. “Just deal the cards.”

“No. Not cards.” He steps forward and pulls me to him. Then, without asking, he starts to unbutton my shirt and I’m so shocked I don’t even stop him. His eyes are locked on mine as he continues. “That card game was for a ride,” he said. “And I’m getting one.”

The shirt is off now and he reaches back and unclasps my bra. My breasts tumble free and leads me to the bed, then spins me around so that the backs of my legs are to the mattress. He reaches for the button of my jeans. My hands go to his, but he’s not stopping. The jeans and panties are jerked down and he pushes me backwards. I fall back in shock, staring up at him as he leans down to pull off my left boot, then the right. My jeans follow and here I am, buck naked in the Silver Spur Hotel.

“How is that a wager?” I finally find my voice as he flips me over. Behind me I hear the jangle of his buckle as he undoes his belt. The blanket underneath me is scratchy against my hardening nipples, and I feel the stirrings of a persistent, soft throb of want in my disloyal pussy.

I glance back. He’s pulled his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh. His cock, smooth and long and mapped with raised veins, is rock-hard and ram-rod straight. He grabs my hips and pulls me to all fours.

 “An eight second ride,” he said. “I stay in for eight seconds, and you spend the week with me doing whatever the fuck I want, however the fuck I want it. Get me out of you, and I’ll tell everybody you were the one who got away.”

 

Ava Sinclair bio:

Variety is the spice of life and Ava Sinclair writes a little something for everyone, from dark romance to menage to kinky AF age play. But the one thing that is consistent in her books are strong storylines storylines, alpha males, and strong women whose hearts and bodies aren’t given up without a fight.

Ava lives in southern Virginia, where she enjoys hoarding books, hiking, running, spoiling her cats, and spending time with her Eurasian eagle owl, Lucius.

 

Web site

www.avasinclairauthor.com

Social Media links for Ava Sinclair

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Ava-Sinclair-490738981084361/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ava-Sinclair/e/B00VAYIVCO

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7223083.Ava_Sinclair

Instagram: https://instagram.com/about_the_author/

Twitter: @authoringava

Hiding in Plain Sight by Lucy Felthouse

A Sexy Spy Thriller, Hiding in Plain Sight, by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #sexy #spy #thriller #romance #suspense

Blurb:

Mallory Scott is an espionage operative, working for the British government. She’s travelled all over the world, often going undercover and infiltrating criminal organisations in order to extract the intelligence needed to dismantle their operations and bring the perpetrators to justice. Given her usual targets are terrorists, people-traffickers, drug-traffickers and arms dealers, her latest assignment should be relatively simple. A small group of Brits is raking in serious money in the diamond-scamming business—and although their MO is theft and forgery, rather than hurting people, they still need to be stopped. But up until now, they’ve proved elusive—no one can catch them in the act, or find a shred of evidence against them.

That’s where Mallory comes in. She follows the group to Amsterdam, planning to get her claws in to one of the gang. Luck is on her side, and within twenty-four hours she’s lunching with Baxter Collinson, the youngest—and most handsome—diamond thief. What she’s not expecting, however, is to get on with him quite so well. Attraction bubbles between them—and for once, on Mallory’s part, it isn’t an act. For the first time in her career, Mallory struggles with what she must do.

Can she ignore her heart for the sake of her career?

Available from:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/hidinginplainsight

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2u1kOf7

iBooks UK: http://apple.co/2va8OrW

iBooks US: http://apple.co/2u1h4vM

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2uAbYrT

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2u1epSU

Createspace: http://bit.ly/2u1hSB1

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35445935-hiding-in-plain-sight

*****

Excerpt:

Mallory Scott spotted the people she was looking for as soon as she walked into the hotel bar. Hell, she hadn’t even needed to search; they were being so loud and obnoxious they were practically screaming for attention.

Stupid, in Mallory’s opinion. If you were running an international diamond scam, surely you’d want to keep a low profile? But no, apparently these guys didn’t give a shit. Not only were they screaming for attention—and getting it, she noticed, as other patrons of the bar shot them the occasional glare—they were also projecting the fact that they were filthy rich. They were supping on the most expensive champagne money could buy and demanding oysters and caviar be brought in. The overwhelming arrogance made her blood boil, but she consoled herself with the fact that by the time she was done with them, they’d be taken down by more than a peg or two—they’d be at rock bottom.

Heading for a table in a position where she could watch them, but remain partially hidden behind a pillar, she shook her head. She could hardly believe they’d kept their multi-million-pound enterprise going for so long. If they ran their operation as sloppily as their current behaviour indicated they might, it was a miracle indeed.

Not that it mattered. They could be running the tightest ship ever known to man, and she would still find a way to take them down. It was what she did. For years now, she’d been successfully infiltrating illegal operations of varying kinds, then gradually dismantling them from the inside. Before the criminals realised what was happening, it was too late—their wrists were practically in the handcuffs, their arses on their way to jail.

This project was different from the ones she usually handled. Her past takedowns included terrorist plots, kidnappings, drugs, people-trafficking… that kind of thing. She’d been involved because sending in police or military personnel wouldn’t work. Not in those particular circumstances. To be truly effective, Mallory needed to infiltrate the organisations at the top, gain their trust—or at least enough trust to allow her to snoop—and acquire evidence of their involvement to ensure their convictions. Otherwise, rushing in and stopping the terrorists, saving people and so on, important as that was, would only affect a tiny part of the organisation. It was vital to dismantle the whole thing, from the big bosses and the money men, right down to the minions doing the leg work.

An added bonus to this approach was that the victims of these organisations, as well as being saved, would know that justice had been served to those that hurt them, and the knowledge that they’d never get the opportunity to do it again. It was dangerous but fulfilling work, and Mallory couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She loved the adrenaline rush, the challenge.

And the challenge element was precisely why this job was different. In as much as it wasn’t supposed to be particularly challenging. Intel gathered over the past year had pinpointed the what, the who—though they couldn’t yet put faces to names—the where and the how, and that had been done covertly, without the need for an undercover operative. All that remained in this case was to find out the when, so they could be caught in the act. It should have been simple, really. But the group was careful, exceedingly so. One of their number was a hacker, meaning that trying to access their emails, internet search histories and voicemails, or tap their phones without being detected was almost impossible. They were smart.

Which meant the only option remaining was the old-fashioned approach.

A honey trap. It was Mallory’s mission to attract the attention of one of the men in the group—hell, even one of the women if any of them swung that way—and slowly, slowly cultivate and exploit their relationship in order to get the information she needed. Then boom, another international criminal enterprise would bite the dust.

Which brought Mallory to her current position, dressed up in ludicrously expensive designer gear and half-hiding behind a pillar in the bar of Amsterdam’s most exclusive hotel. Someone less experienced than Mallory might have found the idea of staying out of sight ridiculous. The aim was to get the attention of one of the gang members, after all. But Mallory was at the top of her game, the very best of the best, and she knew damn well that putting in a little groundwork early on would pay off in spades. Before she did anything, before she so much as batted an eyelash in the direction of the gang, she needed to identify her target. It was pointless trying to eye-fuck with a bloke from across the room, only to discover he preferred men, or was happily married and the faithful type. That would attract the wrong kind of attention. When she did get noticed by the group, she wanted it to be for the right reasons, and on her terms. If they caught even so much as a whiff of her deception, it would be game over.

So she would watch, and wait. Then as soon as she decided which one of the group was going to be her new boyfriend, she’d move in for the kill. Figuratively speaking, of course. Killing wasn’t her job. She was capable of it, and over the course of her career had ended more than one life in self-defence, or in order to protect others, but she was no cold-blooded murderer.

She was something much more dangerous; something that no one ever saw coming.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

New Release: A Dragon’s Treasure #Giveaway

New Release: A Dragon’s Treasure

A dragon’s most desired treasure is his mate, but what if she didn’t want to be?

 

Blurb:

Kai has been hunting for his mate for a very long time. Drawn to a singular place on earth, filled with treasures, he still seeks the greatest treasure of them all. His mate.

Fleeing danger, Connie runs into the arms of destiny, but she has plans already, and a Dragon mate is not on the agenda.

Kai has waited centuries for Connie, and he will claim his mate. Patience may not be a Dragon’s virtue, but he always gets his treasure.

Sparks fly in this humorous erotic tale of mating and mayhem.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon Universal link: http://mybook.to/buyADragonsTreasure

eRetailers Universal link http://www.books2read.com/ADragonsTreasure

 

Excerpt:

She would make a magnificent dragon. Wrapped in all the gold he could give her, her flesh peeking from beneath. She was his.

“Kai.”

He looked over at Ellen, lifting a brow in inquiry.

“Don’t mess with my cousin.”

He grinned. “I’m not. She’s my mate.” Ellen’s eyes widened while Breccan and Maxwell snickered. His eyes wandered down the hall she’d flounced out. She might have meant to look fierce, but her bouncy blonde hair and petite size negated that. Kai wanted nothing more than to follow her and claim her. Her scent was even stronger in the enclosed space than wafting on the breeze. He’d bet she wore a dragon’s mark somewhere on her luscious body. He couldn’t wait to hunt for it.

“Holy cow! Are you sure?” Ellen grinned. “That’s great!”

Breccan chimed in. “By her reaction, I’d say not so great.” He sported a big grin on his face. “Looks like Kai will have a battle on his hands.”

Maxwell’s sly twist of his lips showed he was enjoying the situation too.

Kai glared at them. Damn wolves. They were a pain. He could see the colors in the kitchen change as his dragon attempted to get out. A little barbeque wolf was a tasty snack. The rumble of agreement by his dragon made him smirk. He couldn’t hurt those two, no matter how aggravating they were. Breccan was the only reason Ellen didn’t spend her days wrapped in fear any more. His dragon reluctantly settled down.

#Giveaway

Enter to win a Kindle Fire!!

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f72363ce159/

Author Bio:

Beverly Ovalle has been obsessed with dragons and romance since she was a young girl, collecting dragon books and reading everything she could find on them even down to the care of real life dragons. She’s always been slightly panicked that the world as we know it will end, so has prepped for it, haunting survivalist pages and prepper projects she felt she needed in the event SHTF.

An avid fan of all romance, Beverly’s goal is to share her love of the written word and write the hot and erotic romances that she enjoys. She writes what she loves to read and it was only a matter of time before her obsessions crept into her writing for her to share. She hopes you enjoy her tales as much as she loves writing them.

A Navy Veteran, Beverly has traveled around the world and the United States enabling her to bring her settings to life, meeting and marrying her husband of twenty eight years along the way for her own romance. Reading romances since the fourth grade she’s followed as the genre changed and spread into the vast cornucopia of romance offered today.

 

Author Web & Social Media links:

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/BeverlyOvalleAuthor

Website: www.beverlyovalle.com

Blog:  http://SSLYblog.wordpress.com/

Tumblr:  http://ovalleba.tumblr.com/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ovalleba

Pinterest:  http://pinterest.com/ovalleba/

LinkedIn:  http://www.linkedin.com/BeverlyOvalle

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+BeverlyOvalle0211/posts

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/-r58z

 

Love Me Forever

Love Me Forever

By Beverly Ovalle

 

Tired of being in the baby sister zone, Abby is determined to make this wounded Marine realize that she is grown up and all woman.

Universal Amazon Link: http://mybook.to/LoveMeForever

Universal eBook Retailers: https://www.books2read.com/u/3REknb

 

Blurb:

Staff Sergeant Liam McGregor doesn’t know what hit him. Sent home to recuperate from an IED blast, Liam is stuck in a wheelchair and is sentenced to surgery and physical therapy before he can walk again.

A physical therapist, Abby Worth has loved Liam McGregor since she first noticed boys. It’s too bad he’s her brother’s best friend. She has always been firmly put in the baby sister zone no matter how hard she tried to catch his eye.

Liam sees Abby and when she goes home with him doesn’t know how he can keep his hands off of her. She’s now old enough to touch and the fire in his blood and the combination of pain killers make him lose control. Abby can’t help but take what she’s always wanted.

Together they have to overcome their fear of being left behind to grab what they have always wanted-each other.

Excerpt:

He looked around as much as he could without moving his head. His eyes widened as he realized he was in the hospital. He recognized a couple of the doctors, so he knew he was still in Afghanistan. Liam closed his eyes against the throbbing pain and tried to remember what happened.

All he could remember was laughing and joking with his team. Then he woke up here. He shifted and bit back a scream of agony. Whatever happened he must’ve been right in the middle of it. Panting he lay back and tried to relax. If his memory didn’t come back, someone would be sure to tell him what happened.

Liam knew they had been going on a run, delivering supplies from one FOB to another. He lay there, head throbbing and pain radiating up from both legs and his shoulders. Wiggling his fingers sent pain up his arms, his left thigh hot and burning. Any movement sent spikes of pain throughout his body. His chest was tight, stomach roiling, and he was afraid to look down. He didn’t want to see if he was missing a limb. Liam had heard that even if you lost one you could still feel it. He swore he could wiggle his toes, could feel his leg. The pain and the cramping shooting down his calf. He didn’t want to look, anxious at what he would find.

Eyes closed and denying what he knew was a good possibility, Liam listened to the world around him. Groans and constant beeping from machines filtered to his ears. Even through his closed lids he could tell it was daylight, the light shining through the delicate skin. He heard feet come close and reluctantly opened his eyes.

“How are we doing today, McGregor?” Liam could hear the scribbling of the doctor’s pen as he made notations.

“Not sure, Doc.”

“Explain. What aren’t you sure about, Marine?”

Liam had to clear his throat. It was hard to talk through the dryness.

“I don’t remember what happened.” He turned his head toward the doc despite the ache in his neck. “How bad am I, Doc?”

“Besides the amnesia, which should only be temporary, you had a concussion.” Liam realized that would be why he remembered being constantly woken up, feeling overwhelmed with pain only to drift off again. “You were hit with shrapnel from head to toe. You had evidently turned away from the blast point just before it went off. Your back was protected by your body armor. Your legs and arms took the brunt of the damage.”

 

Bio:

Beverly Ovalle dabbled with writing on and off for years when her best friend finally dared her to submit a story to a writing contest. Beverly decided she had nothing to lose and since she’d always wanted to be an author sent it in and agonized for months waiting to hear back. Contract in hand she has never looked back.

Beverly has been obsessed with dragons and romance since she was a young girl, collecting dragon books and reading everything she could find on them even down to the care of real life dragons. She’s always been slightly panicked that the world as we know it will end, so has prepped for it, haunting survivalist pages and prepper projects she felt she needed in the event SHTF.

An avid fan of all romance, Beverly’s goal is to share her love of the written word and write the hot and erotic romances that she enjoys. She writes what she loves to read and it was only a matter of time before her obsessions crept into her writing for her to share. She hopes you enjoy her tales as much as she loves writing them.

A Navy Veteran, Beverly has traveled around the world and the United States enabling her to bring her settings to life, meeting and marrying her husband of twenty five years along the way for her own romance. Reading romances since the fourth grade she’s followed as the genre changed and spread into the vast cornucopia of romance offered today.

Contact Links:

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/BeverlyOvalleAuthor

Website: www.beverlyovalle.com

Tumblr:  http://ovalleba.tumblr.com/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ovalleba

Pinterest:  http://pinterest.com/ovalleba/

LinkedIn:  http://www.linkedin.com/BeverlyOvalle

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+BeverlyOvalle0211/posts

Blog:  http://SSLYblog.wordpress.com

The Tryst ~ Monique Roffey

Out Now—The Tryst by Monique Roffey

An exciting new direction from acclaimed novelist Monique Roffey

London, midsummer night. Jane and Bill meet the mysterious Lilah in a bar. She entrances the couple with half-true, mixed up tales about her life. At closing time, Jane makes an impulsive decision to invite Lilah back to their home. But Jane has made a catastrophic error of judgement, for Lilah is a skilled and ruthless predator, the likes of which few encounter in a lifetime. Isolated and cursed, Jane and Bill are forced to fight for each other, and, in doing so, discover their covert desires.

Part psychological thriller, part contemporary magical realism, The Tryst revisits the tale of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, to examine the secrets of an everyday marriage.

“What makes The Tryst an unexploded virus isn’t just the quality and brightness of Roffey’s writing on sex, even as it uncovers inner glades between flesh and fantasy where sex resides – but the taunting clarity of why those glades stay covered. A throbbing homewrecker of a tale, too late to call Fifty Shades of Red.”

DBC Pierre, Booker Prize winner, 2003

Available from:
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2syHhPE
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Tryst-Monique-Roffey-ebook/dp/B072BX51PV/

 

*****

Praise for The Tryst

“The Tryst is a sly, feral, witty, offbeat erotic novella that unsettles the reader, even as it arouses. There are sex scenes of breath-taking audacity. What would any of us do if an irresistible sex daemon broke and entered our domestic lives, leaving havoc in her amoral wake?”

Rowan Pelling, editor, The Amorist

“I’ve read The Tryst and was enormously entertained and impressed. It’s wild and witching, at once contemporary and atavistic, with an anarchic 
sexual energy running through it and a startling frankness, not only about sex, but about love and relationships, gender and power … a daring write and consuming read.” Bidisha, writer and broadcaster

“While The Tryst offers magic and sensuality aplenty, it lays bare the violence that heteronormative couples will do to ‘others’ to keep the home system stoked. It can be read as a fable about intimacy and erotic power. Disturbingly, it can also be read as a fable about the socially established vs. the disposable.”

Vahni Capildeo, poet, Forward Prize winner

“The Tryst summons your inner whore and demands she be honoured.”

Empress Stah, cabaret theatre performer

“A Midsummer’s Night Dream meets erotic thriller in this captivating romp through the senses. … Monique Roffey perfectly captures the inner worlds of both the un-fucked housewife and the archetypal slut in this wonderful tale exploring the power of sexuality, erotic magnetism and the changing face of human relationships.”

Seani Love, Sex Worker of the Year, 2015

“Monique Roffey’s The Tryst successfully straddles mythology and erotica to create a journey towards pleasure.”

Suzanne Portnoy, author of The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker

“Sexy, lyrical and unashamed, The Tryst is a powerful slice of modern erotica which blends sexual magick with today’s hectic world of male-female relationships.”

Vina Jackson, author of Eighty Days Yellow

“Sexy as hell. A cross between the work of Angela Carter and Anaïs Nin, The Tryst weaves the urban and the modern with dark myth. Roffey is a risk taking and masterful storyteller,” J Malloy, author of The Story of X

*****

Excerpt:

Before lunch we had sex again on the kitchen floor. Quickly, this time, me riding him. Oh, I like to be on top, to be the domina, the one who hostesses the show, who stages all the stunts with human males. I am the party thrower, the orgy mistress. I gave him a good fuck, massaging his cock with the muscles of my cunt, and the energy of him rose upwards through me and lit me up. This Bill was made to fit me and I was made to fit him; somehow I’d stumbled across him, this Adam. At first glance he was just a primary model: Husband, Father, the Average White English Male. Homme Vanille. Marks and Spencer Man. Nothing remarkable. Nicely castrated by the middle class feminists, cured of any alpha tendencies. He had been trained not to be dominant. Isn’t that what feminism has done, it has laughed the alpha males out of town. Masculinity is in crisis, say the clever ones these days. Feminism equalised women in the workplace and put men in the shed, where I found Bill. The male alpha doms went underground, thousands of them, to Internet fetish sites and their private dungeons and the like. There, many of my sistren operate, daemon-killers like me. Professional Dommes. Strangulators, ball kickers. Experts in humiliation, bestiality, fucking men up the ass with their strap-ons. Torturing testicles till they turn blue. We Lilatha exist in the shadows, in the twilight; we are around if you look for us. Many men do, those who like to submit. And they keep quiet when they find us. Few imps, like me, stalk the pavements in full view. That’s my kink, to fuck The Innocents, men like Bill. I like to dominate Mr Everyday.

And yet, as I had happily discovered, Bill had secret charms and abilities after all. My assessment had been wrong. I rode Bill hard, forging a twinned ecstasy between us. We groaned and writhed, both of us dying afterwards. I laughed with glee, at how Bill gasped for breath. “You’re lovely,” he gasped. I licked my fingers, tasting his bitter-salt cum. “So are you,” I winked. “Feed me now, I’m starving.”

Lunch was delicious and replenishing. We fell on fruit and gooey chocolate cake and ice cream and opened a bottle of red wine. I put on one of his vinyl jazz records and danced around naked. I’ll stay one more hour, I told myself. One more hour, just one. Janey-Wife has gone, this house is mine and we still want to fuck. I am not yet sated. Greedy thing I was, greedy for his cock. Bill couldn’t keep his eyes off me, he was entangled – miserably unsure of himself. Distant and yet high on that fuck-chemical of serotonin. It was coursing through him. It was like watching a new drug addict and any minute I might have to catch him from slumping to the floor. He was lust-drunk. But I wasn’t. I’d provoked this altered state in men many times before; I had left many husbands in this condition. Usually I fled well before this point. But I was still enjoying myself, still very much the sprite.

I danced naked for a while. Human men love to watch women dance in the nude and very few modern human women do. It is a dead art, relegated to the dim caverns and glossy tables of the lap dancing club. Burlesque

strip-joints. Once, it was an art of the courtly harem and the well-paid hetaera; once it was part of Bohemia, of a social stratum of free thinkers and free lovers. Men have danced naked too, for women and other men. There is a long tradition of the Lust Arts. I find this an omission on the part of modern womankind as naked dancing puts men in a state of awe and gratitude. The Wife won’t do it, never did. Oh, human women divide their nature. Mother. Wife. Whore. They do not integrate. Good girls and bad. Few celebrate that they are both. So there I was rubbing myself and licking my lips, caressing my breasts, my hips, sliding my hand down between my legs. It was an act, a naked tease. This was one of my many carnival tricks. I have worked in burlesque clubs, learnt the art of grinding and wriggling, stripping off stockings, gloves. Doing what American strippers call ‘ass work’, removing strings of pearls from my pussy. I have a strong muscular vagina, able to pulse and milk my men. But I do not possess the agility of hookers in the bars and lap dancing clubs of the Orient. I cannot shoot ping-pong balls across the room. I surprised Bill with three small but succulent beetroot I had found in the fridge, already peeled and boiled. I dripped the purple ink over my quim, inserting them one by one, dancing them up and in. He laughed out loud and clapped for me and I took a bow. He knelt for me and ate as I released each soft warm beet into his mouth.

More, he whispered.

And I complied, oh, with cucumbers and carrots and the like. Bill was rock hard throughout. I loved his cock, thick and uncircumcised. The tip glistened. At one point, I knelt in front of Bill and took his balls into my mouth and swirled them round. He trusted me more with his jewels this time. He poured wine over my face and I drank and sucked and his cock was huge and solid and he stroked himself and dripped cum over my face, rubbed it into my hair. Then he was sitting on a counter top, his jeans unbuckled, his thighs bare, his cock like a tower. Me on tiptoe, with my mouth all over him, my head bobbing, all the while kneading his scrotum and his hand reaching down, stroking me, catching the drips. Then, his body juddered, as if Aphrodite herself was stroking the kundalini up from his genitals and up his back. His cum flew in hot spurts, white and pearly, splattering his stomach, the fruit bowl, everywhere. And I came too, my cum cascaded like a torrent to the floor, not a cupful, as usual, but a warm wave fell from that secret reservoir. Like I had urinated, except it was translucent and salt-sweet to taste. And with this release, I began to feel altered. I shouldn’t be here; I should have left. Bill reached down and cupped the small of my back as I shuddered. My orgasm swamped us both. I looked up at Bill and saw his eyes glittering. Oh Christ, he whispered. I could see that he had recognised me. I was Wife No 1. My cover was blown. It was then I whispered my real name to him in my language and he nodded.

 

*****

BIOGRAPHY

 

Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian-born writer. Her novels have been translated into five languages and short-listed for major awards including the Orange Prize, Costa Fiction Award, Encore Award, Orion Award and the OCM Bocas Award for Caribbean Literature. In 2013, Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature. Her memoir, With the Kisses of his Mouth, was published in 2011. She is a Lecturer on the MFA in the Novel at Manchester Metropolitan University. She divides her time between the East end of London and Port of Spain, Trinidad.

social media:

Twitter @moniqueroffey13 and @DodoInk

website: www.moniqueroffey.com

Instagram: Monique Roffey

FB @moniqueroffeyauthor

 

About Dodo Ink

Dodo Ink is an independent publishing company based in the UK. Founded by author Sam Mills (The Quiddity of Will Self, Corsair, 2012), digital publishing and marketing specialist Alex Spears, and reviewer Thom Cuell, Dodo Ink publish original fiction with a focus on risk-taking, imaginative novels. We are looking for books which don’t fall into easy marketing categories and don’t compromise their intelligence or style to fit in with trends. We are passionate readers, and we believe that there are many more who share our appetite for bold, original and ‘difficult’ fiction. We want to provide a home for great writing which isn’t being picked up by the mainstream.

*****

Monique Roffey on

The Tryst

When you publish a book, it’s always a mixed bag of feelings for every writer, I guess: elation, a sense of meaning and purpose, guided to the right spot, ‘publication’. But, also, there is trepidation, and concern, a ‘will this baby fly?’, ‘will it get any attention?’ Will it be ignored, sink without a trace? Let alone, will it get near a serious prize list. But today, having just sent the final, final, final edits of The Tryst, to my very plucky publisher, Dodo Ink, I feel something so pure and so utterly without reserve or concern. I feel something almost shamanic, something inner and secure, something certain and from within, a sense of completion over a long time, and a sense of elation, a “Yes! You did it.” And it will be good.

 

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 

Anthem of the Sea

Out Now—ANTHEM OF THE SEA By Thom Collins (@thomwolf @realthomcollins)

Blurb:

An ocean of possibility. For love, revenge and murder.

Daniel Blake, a handsome young singer, boards the Atlantic Anthem in Portugal for the final voyage of her maiden season. The state-of-the-art ship is the jewel in the Royal Atlantic cruise fleet. For Daniel, a one-time boy band member and TV talent show winner, it’s an honor to perform aboard such a vessel. Daniel loves the freedom and adventure of the sea. He began his solo career as a cruise ship entertainer and returning to the ocean as a headline act brings him full circle. He isn’t looking for love.

Neither is comedian Elijah Mann. Working at sea has given Elijah’s career the boost it desperately needed. Often considered too good-looking and sexy to be funny, work has been hard to come by since his TV show was canceled. With a potential new career opening up, he must remain focused. But when Elijah meets Daniel the attraction is mutual and instant. As the ship sets sail for England they have three days to get to know each other. Elijah can’t let that opportunity pass.

The voyage home is far from smooth. Also on board is a figure from Daniel’s past. A man who’s been holding a grudge for years, waiting for his moment. As a storm builds in the North Atlantic, Daniel and Elijah discover that the trip of a lifetime could be their last.

LINKS:

Pride Publishing: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/anthem-of-the-sea

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2rvgeTr

Amazon USA: http://amzn.to/2rh1Bnt

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/anthem-of-the-sea

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/anthem-of-the-sea-thom-collins/1126384702?ean=9781786515681

EXCERPT:

The taxi collected Daniel Blake from the hotel on time. He liked that. Punctuality, efficiency and professionalism—three things he valued in all areas of his career. Be on time and be prepared—that had been his motto since he was fourteen years old. Fifteen years later, he continued to live by it.

He helped the driver load his gear into the trunk. There wasn’t much of it. When on the road, he traveled light with just a medium-sized case, a holdall and a suit carrier. He’d arrived in Lisbon the previous morning, disembarking from a cruise ship, where he’d performed for two nights. His shirts would need washing and his suit pressing before his next show. There was plenty of time.

He gave the driver directions to his designated cruise terminal and climbed onto the back seat. Thankfully, the air conditioning was running. Though it was late October, the outside temperature remained in the mid-eighties and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock. Last night he had heard some of the hotel staff complain about the weather turning cold, but for a boy like him, born and raised in the northeast of England, these climates were well above average. Back home, this would be a hot day in June or July.

It was a short drive to the port. Early in the day, but the streets were busy. Three massive cruise ships were anchored in the harbor, discharging thousands of eager tourists into the city. British, American, German, Japanese, they scurried through the streets, clutching backpacks and maps, keen to explore as much as they could of the historic Portuguese city in the few hours they had here.

Daniel smiled at their faces as they zipped by.

Lisbon, his last stop before home.

The car arrived at the port and within ten minutes Daniel stood beside the gangway with his luggage, waiting for the necessary security calls to be made that would allow him to board the ship. The enormous vessel towered above him, casting a huge shadow across the dock. The Atlantic was one of the biggest and most spectacular cruise ships in the world.

There were a lot of criticisms for super ships such as this. He’d heard them described as floating shopping malls, grotesque monstrosities and budget hotels at sea, but for Daniel there was something quite majestic about the craft and its design, to say nothing of the engineering that went into the construction of such a huge vessel.

“Those things are so top heavy,” a jobbing magician once had told him in a bar. “I hear they roll right over in high seas.”

Daniel had laughed at the man’s ignorance. “And when did you last hear of that happening?”

The man had floundered. “I’m just saying that something so uneven can’t be safe, can it? You won’t ever catch me on one of them things. Mug’s game, isn’t it?”

“It’s your loss,” Daniel had told him cheerily. He felt safer at sea, even in the roughest weather, than he ever had on a plane. Motorways too. It might not be the quickest, but without a doubt it was the most luxurious and extravagant way to travel. He loved being at sea.

Waiting for the security guy to return with his passport, Daniel realized he’d drawn some attention.

A slow stream of passengers was returning to the ship. They couldn’t have seen much of Lisbon, coming back already. Among them was an English family. While the parents lit cigarettes before joining the embarkation queue, the daughter, who looked around fourteen, stared directly at him.

“Hi.” He smiled. “Good day out?”

The girl was plump and pretty with wavy brown hair that fell around her shoulders. She wore a sweet, flowery sundress and red Converse shoes. She blushed as she realized she’d been caught gawking.

“Are you…? Oh, my God, you are, aren’t you? You’re Daniel Blake.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Don’t shoot me.”

The girl nervously stepped forward, looking at him with wide, hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting to join the ship. I’m performing on board.”

Her jaw fell. “The Anthem? You’re coming on the Anthem?

He nodded. He didn’t mind being recognized like this. Daniel was famous enough in the UK, but not so much that it ever became an inconvenience. His fame came from a TV talent show. The public had made him and he appreciated all the support he got.

“Oh my God.” The girl’s face became highly animated. “Mam! Dad! Come here. Oh my God, you won’t believe it. Daniel Blake. It’s actually him.”

Her bemused parents stubbed out their cigarettes and came over. They were an attractive-looking couple of around forty. The girl looked a lot like her father.

“I hope she’s not bothering you,” the dad said, looking cautiously between Daniel and his daughter.

“Not a bit,” Daniel assured him. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Daniel is going to be singing on the ship. Can you believe it? How cool is that?” She grinned a mile wide.

“Starting tomorrow,” he said. “Make certain you get yourselves a great seat down front. I can use all the support I can get.”

“I will, I will. I voted for you every week on The One. You were my favorite from the start.”

“So it’s you I need to thank for winning. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Julieann.”

“Well, thank you, Julieann. Your votes changed my life.”

The girl blushed violently.

The security officer came back to escort Daniel onto the ship. Before boarding, he posed for photographs with Julieann and her family.

“The girls at school will have a fit when they see these on Instagram,” Julieann said proudly as they took a selfie together.

“See you at the shows,” Daniel said as he walked on board. “And don’t forget—front row. Be there. I’ll look out for you.”

“We’ll definitely be there.”

Once on board, he passed his luggage through the security scanner and was equipped with his sea pass ID, the plastic card that would enable him to move around the ship, access his accommodation and run a tab in the bars and shops. He was greeted on the far side of security by a young woman in a blue shirt and khaki shorts. Her soft blonde hair was tied back from her round, attractive face. She was vaguely familiar from his engagement earlier in the season. He checked her name badge to refresh his memory. Belle Hodges, entertainment crew, from South Australia.

“Hi,” Belle said cheerily. “It’s wonderful to have you back on board.”

She extended her hand and he shook it. “It’s great to be back. Honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this since I left in May. How has your maiden season gone?”

“Over too quickly and totally ace. I can’t believe it’s been that long since you were here. Yikes, the time has flown. Let me give you a hand with your stuff.”

“That’s okay. I can manage. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll find my way.”

Ignoring his protests, Belle took up the suit carrier.

“You’re in real luck,” she said. “You’ve been allocated a large stateroom on one of the passenger decks. Balcony and all.”

“You’re joking? Wow. Am I sharing with the house band or a football team?”

Belle giggled, wrinkling her nose. “Silly. You’ve got the whole place to yourself.”

“Seriously? What gives? I never get accommodation like that.”

Belle looked around cautiously and lowered her voice. “We had a family thrown off the ship in Gran Canaria so you’ve got their room. They caused a fight in the martini bar and punched an officer who tried to intervene. Captain Rassimov put them off at the next port. No second chances.”

“Good to know we’re in such firm hands.”

“Captain Rassimov is the best,” Belle gushed.

Daniel didn’t doubt it. He’d met the dashing captain on his last trip. Tall, dark, handsome and extremely charismatic, he sent hearts beating fast among the passengers and crew. If he wasn’t so straight, Daniel would fancy him too. Rassimov was the perfect man to master such a grand vessel.

Launched in May, with a rumored cost of over one-point-five billion, the Atlantic Anthem was coming to the end of its inaugural European season. It was the newest and biggest vessel in the Royal Atlantic fleet. Daniel had spent two nights on board when he’d performed a headline set on the maiden voyage. He’d worked for cruise companies all over the world, but he couldn’t fail to be impressed by the Anthem. It was billed as the ship with everything. From his own experience that was certainly true.

As he walked through the decks with Belle, his sense of excitement increased. The interior was truly splendid. Not a penny had been spared, from the lush carpets to the paintings and sculptures that graced every deck. Before coming on board, he’d read all the specs—about the spa and fitness center, two swimming pools and a solarium, the Royal Theater with nine-hundred-sixty seats, the bars—eight of them across the ship—the main dining room plus three specialty restaurants and a twenty-four-hour café. Several public entertainment areas were situated on Decks Four and Five around a jaw-dropping central staircase. Knowing all of that in advance, he still had been blown away when he’d came upon the ship for the first time. And he felt it now, all over again.

Only the most jaded, spoiled and hard-to-please traveler could fail to be inspired by the Anthem.

They rode one of the glass elevators to the tenth floor where Belle led him down a long corridor to his stateroom in the forward section of the ship.

“Last time, I had an interior cabin in the crew quarters.” He laughed.

“Yep, that’s where they like to cram us in. But now you’ve got this.”

Daniel swiped his sea pass card to enter the room. A major step up from crew class, the room was bright and contemporary, to the standard of any good hotel. He had an enormous double bed all to himself and a sitting area with a long, cream leather sofa. There was a dressing table, minibar, TV, private bathroom and balcony.

“I hope I don’t get lost in here,” he joked, dumping his luggage by the wardrobe.

“As long as you’re on stage for your shows tomorrow night, no one will mind what you get up to in here,” Belle said.

“You can put your mind at ease on that count,” he said. “I’ve been performing since I was fourteen and I’ve never missed a show in my life.”

Belle left him to settle in. Daniel unpacked his clothes first and filled a plastic bag with stuff that needed washing immediately—shirts, socks and underwear. Another great thing about working on a luxury cruise liner—everything was to hand. If he left the bag out today, all the items would be washed, ironed and returned by tomorrow.

He went into the bathroom next, laying out his razor, toothbrush and skincare products. He brought everything with him when he traveled. Though he wasn’t particularly vain, it was important to look good in public.

He didn’t have to worry. At twenty-nine years old—five months shy of thirty—he was in prime condition. He’d never looked better. For years he used to hate the way he looked. Everything about him had been out of proportion, especially his face. Eyes, teeth, nose, chin, they were always too big. But throughout his twenties, the rest of his body had caught up. He’d filled out and gained muscle and his face, which had seemed so awkward in his teens, had developed an extraordinary handsomeness. He had a strong jaw with a cowboy cleft, while his mouth was wide and masculine. With sky-blue eyes and thick brown hair, he had become a good-looking man. Very good-looking.

His confidence hadn’t grown to match his looks. A part of him would always be that skinny, peculiar kid. But only he could see it.

Finally unpacked, he relaxed and walked onto the balcony. He had a great view of the city and the people below, streaming like ants around the port terminals. Daniel took a moment to enjoy it all. He loved just about every part of the cruise experience.

Every ship, every voyage, was a new adventure.

The Atlantic Anthem promised a greater adventure than any other.

He couldn’t wait to get started.

 

Thom Collins Bio

Thom Collins is the author of the novel Closer by Morning, with Pride Publishing. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

The novellas Gods of Vengeance and Silent Voices were published by Pride in early 2017, followed by the novel Anthem of the Sea, the first book in the Anthem Trilogy. He has recently finished writing the second book in a series and is working on the third.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age. Since taking his first cruise in 2013 he realized that sailing is the way to go.

Links:

Blog: http://www.thomcollinsauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter:   @thomwolf     and  @realthomcollins

Email: thomcollinsauthor@aol.com

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

The Yankee Billionaire’s Bride by Roz Lee

Title: The Yankee Billionaire’s Bride

Author: Roz Lee

Series: Billionaire Brides Book 2

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Blurb

Visiting the tiny town of Butte Plains, Texas to help out a friend, born and bred Yankee Scott Ramsey has no intention of falling in love, but it isn’t long before the wide open plains, and especially the meadows—Roseanne Meadows—stake a claim on his heart. The Lone Star state seems welcoming enough, but after the owner of The Yellow Rose Bed and Breakfast stole his heart, suddenly, for reasons he can’t understand, he’s relegated to carpetbagger status. What will it take to convince Roseanne his home is where his heart is?

Roseanne Meadows knew better than to fall in love with a Yankee carpetbagger, but it’s too late now. What’s done is done, and the sooner Scott Ramsey packs up his toys and goes home to his venomous family, the better. Faced with an unexpected life-altering situation, in true Texan style, the owner of The Yellow Rose B&B will do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means leaving the only place her heart has ever called home.

Buy Links

Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/2t1gWg0

B&N Link: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-yankee-billionaires-bride-roz-lee/1126528791

Itunes Link: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-yankee-billionaires-bride/id1246016925?mt=11

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/729023

Google Play – https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Roz_Lee_The_Yankee_Billionaire_s_Bride?id=ZPcmDwAAQBAJ&hl=en

Excerpt

You’re back.”

I said I would be. You haven’t rented my room out to someone else have you?” Scott set his suitcase in the wide foyer of the B&B and smiled at the owner of the inn who wasn’t smiling back at him.

No. I haven’t, but maybe I should.”

He stood frozen, one hand on the handle of his luggage, the other in his pocket where he’d deposited his keys. What the hell had happened while he was gone? “What are you saying? You want me to leave?”

Roseanne glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen then back at him. “Keep your voice down. The whole world doesn’t need to know our business.”

Scott didn’t care who heard, but appearances meant a lot to Roseanne, so he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “What’s going on?” For the first time since he’d entered the house, he noticed she was wringing her hands—something she only did when she was nervous.

Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Find out what?”

Your parents’ anniversary party?” She quit fidgeting and squared her shoulders. Her hands became small fists at her sides. “You know—the one you attended last night?”

Scott sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor. Shit. What could he say? I didn’t want to drag you into the mess that is my family? I didn’t want you to meet my parents? I didn’t want you to get hurt? All of them true, but obviously not what she wanted to hear, so he pulled out the only plausible explanation he could think of. “You were sick. I thought knowing what you were missing would make you feel even worse.”

Her face turned thunderous. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You knew about the party long before I got sick. You could have told me anytime, but you didn’t because you didn’t want me to go with you. I’m not an idiot, Scott. I know I’m not in your league, but you could have been honest with me. I deserved that much.”

I wanted—”

She held her hand up. “Stop. Just stop. Don’t say another word. I have no right to be upset, but I am, which is on me. I let myself think there was more between us than there was. So, thanks for the reality check, and please find another place to stay as soon as possible.”

He should have told her about the party when he first heard about it. Roseanne was more than capable of holding her own in his parents’ world. A cold, hard truth settled over him. Yes, he’d been protecting her from the pointed barbs his family could throw, but he’d also been protecting himself. He didn’t want Roseanne to see the way his family treated him. Didn’t want her to know he was, if not exactly the black sheep, the one with the purple stripes—the one his family couldn’t understand. Had never made an effort to understand. He’d screwed up, big time. Worse, he had no idea how to fix it. “You can’t be serious.”

Her features hardened even more, and he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d said the wrong thing. As usual. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. You’ve got twenty-four hours. If you aren’t out by then, you’ll find your things waiting for you on the front porch. Is that clear?”

Meet the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author, Roz Lee is a displaced Texan who lives in New Jersey with her husband of almost four decades, and Bud, an overly large rescue dog who demands regular romps in the woods no matter how busy his parents are.

The mom of two daughters and grandma to the cutest baby boy ever, Roz collects Depression glass, and teacups with rose patterns. Her favorite food is Tex-Mex, and she’s never met a piece of chocolate she didn’t like.

When Roz isn’t writing, she’s reading, or traipsing around the country on one adventure or another. Warning—she brakes for antique stores!

Author Web & Social Media links:

Website – http://www.RozLee.net

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/authorrozlee

Twitter – http://www.twitter.com/RozLee_Author

Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/RozLee

G+ – https://plus.google.com/+RozLeeAuthor

Amazon Author Page – http://amzn.to/2rIFfve

Presented by : WLKBookPromotions