Tuesday, October 8, 2019

His for the Taking by Brandi Evans , #contemporary, #BDSM , #romance





Genre: contemporary, BDSM romance


Not all love stories play by society’s rules.


Blurb:
I love managing Red Light Lingerie, a sexy boutique in Dallas. I get to spend my days talking to people about bedroom wear, sex toys, and enhancement lotions for all occasions. But by far, my favorite erotic job perk is my sexy British boss, Maxwell Penn. 


Max is a Matthew McConaughey look-alike who’s equal parts dreamboat and domineering pain in the neck, and I regularly fluctuate between “I want to bed him” and “I want to strangle him.” But still, yum.


The paradigm of our relationship, however, changes irrevocably when a lingerie designer, a friend of Max’s from Britain, comes to town, and I have to stand in for a no-show lingerie model. Before I can say G-string, I find myself sandwiched between Max and his dark-n-sexy friend. 


I’d be in total heaven if it weren’t for the guilt swirling in Max’s blue eyes. I have no idea why it’s there, but I’m bound and determined to find out. 


Publisher’s Note: This book contains descriptions of consensual activities, including eroticism and discipline. If you object to these elements, please do not read this book. 


~*~*~*~



Excerpt
(R+)


I yanked against my restraints. The material stretched with my movements, but my hands stayed firmly bound at the small of my back.


“See, Max? This is one sturdy piece of lingerie.”


My mind exploded with images of what they could do to me, completely helpless and practically naked. Should I worry? A smart woman probably would—but the look in Max’s eyes—


I’d never wanted him more than I did at that moment.


Garrett’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Also, I designed the top so the two front halves can be pushed together to allow quick and easy access to the tits without having to untie any restraints already put in place. Would you like a demonstration of that, too?”


Max’s gaze stayed locked with mine, never veering, never faltering. “I’m thinking.”


I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. But who was I fooling? I’d wanted Max to touch me for a long time. I’d dreamed about it and gotten off while imagining him fucking me. But what about Garrett? I’d fantasized about being with multiple men, too, so I’d consider his presence icing on the beefcake.


Part of me wished Max and I were alone, but it was probably better we weren’t. Less intimate, which I needed. As it was, the intensity of his stare threatened to melt me into a puddle.


“Please touch me, Max,” I whispered, unable to stop myself. At least, I think I verbalized the words, but I may have simply mouthed them. “Please.”


Max’s eyes widened. His nostrils flared. And he hesitated a long, tortuous moment before stepping into me and yanking the garment’s outer edges into the valley between my breasts, completely exposing me—and then cupping the undersides of my breasts.





~*~*~*~


Author Bio


Brandi Evans was raised by a caravan of traveling Gypsies. She spent her days learning the ways of her people and her nights lost in legends as old as time. Okay, not really, but that's way more interesting than the truth!


In reality, Brandi grew up the oldest child of an ordinary family. Grade school, middle school, high school. Nothing extraordinary happened until she left the nest. She joined the military, went to college, got married, and became a mom. And somewhere along the way, she discovered she liked to read—and write!—stories hot enough to melt eReaders. 


Visit Brandi Online


Website: http://brandievansauthor.com/  
Blog: https://www.blogger.com/blogin.g?blogspotURL=http://brandievansauthor.blogspot.com/  
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Brandi-Evans/674481219297772?ref_type=bookmark 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/brandi_evans 
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/brandievans1/ 
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Brandi-Evans/e/B004D05W56/  
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4373174.Brandi_Evans 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brandievansauthor/  
tumblr: http://brandievansauthor.tumblr.com/  


Sign up for Brandi’s newsletter and receive a free book! http://brandievansauthor.com/contact.html#newsletter

Thanks for sharing,

Anita







Friday, October 4, 2019

Stormy by @AuthorTinaGayle , #babyboomers , #Romance , #SecondChance






Now available at 






Blurb – Can friends become lovers? Even after the age of forty?

He’s wife is dead. She’s divorce with adult children.

For two years, Daniel and Karen have consoled each other during the trails of losing their spouses. Now, they are ready to turn their friendship into a loving relationship. After sharing a night of passion, all appears golden for a bright future for Karen and Daniel until she receives a call from her children saying her ex has had a heart attack.

Torn between, her need to support her children and her desire to be with Daniel, Karen leaves him and flees to the hospital. Coming face to face with  her ex-husband’s new, trophy wife, Karen begins to question exactly why her marriage fell apart. Was she to blame, and if so, should she try again?

On the outside looking in, Daniel must now convince Karen to let go of her past mistake and share a future with him?



Excerpt:


“Damn, Daniel, where are you?” Karen Barr glanced at her cell phone, hoping to see a message from him. She’d called him before she left her apartment, texted him from the station where she stopped for gas, and had even pulled off the highway a time or two in her attempt to reach him.
Nothing.
Had he changed his mind about this weekend?
Or was the bad weather interfering with his cell phone signal?
As if in answer to her question, the pounding rain increased, pouring water from the sky like an overflowing faucet. The windshield wipers worked in a quick pulsating rhythm. Nevertheless, they still didn’t achieve the task of improving visibility.
Karen flipped the switch to increase the speed and stared at the road ahead. The weatherman had predicted a storm tonight, and for once when she wanted him to be wrong, he was right.
How much farther did she have to go?
The turn off for Daniel’s cabin couldn’t be too far away. She’d caught sight of the old, red barn off to the left a few miles back, so the dirt lane to Daniel’s place had to be close.
She slowed the car, crawling along at a snail’s pace so as not to miss the path. Her headlights reflected off something metallic. She read the weathered sign. Happy.
The outdated tune of “Happy Trails to You” played through her head. Daniel had sung the song the first time he’d brought her here. He said it’d help her remember the way back.
Right, and where the hell was he?
Karen checked her cell phone again, and silently prayed he wasn’t lying in a muddy ditch somewhere. Hopefully, he had simply forgotten to recharge his phone, a particularly annoying habit he seemed to have.
“Damn it, Daniel, when I find you I...”
She didn’t exactly know what she’d do... kiss him?
Pictures of him flashed in her head... his sexy smile, his curly, dark hair with a touch of gray at his temples... the broad width of his shoulders, his trim physique... the round curve of his ass.
“Shit, why do I put myself through this? The man doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend,” Karen grumbled and flipped her blinker on out of habit.
She steered the car onto Happy Trails. The huge trees resembled mighty sentinels. Standing guard along the edge of the road, they blocked the rain with their large limbs. Slowing to avoid the abundant potholes on the gravel path, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel and searched for the end of Daniel’s driveway.
The storm and lack of communication from him had stretched her patience to the breaking point. She longed to be at her final destination and out of the car. “I should’ve never accepted his invitation to spend the weekend with him at his cabin. He can’t let go of the past,” she muttered angrily.
 Hell, after her divorce, she gave up everything, her husband of twenty-plus-years, her beautiful country manor home, her cushy job, and her high-society friends. All she’d wanted was a new start—freedom from the endless upper crust parties and social climbing leeches. Thankfully now, her individual concerns were merely for her kids and herself. The infinite hours spent on creating a prominent public image for Carl was in her ex-husband’s trophy wife’s hands.
Unfortunately, Daniel’s world had changed for a different reason. His wife’s death had hit him extremely hard. He’d barely been able to cope and had turned to Karen. They’d worked together for years, and he had no else. His family lived out of the state. She’d tried to help, and they’d grown closer. Now, she wanted even more from him. Could they bridge the gap from friends and become lovers?
The dim light shining up ahead drew her attention. She figured Daniel must have left the porch light on for her. Then why didn’t he return her calls?

Was it his way of keeping her from backing out?


Here's some of the reviews.


 Sam Destiny
Recommends This Book
    
Yes
This was a sweet story and an easy read. I am actually a fan of Daniel because he seems to be a truly amazing man. You need distraction? Something that you can drown in and yet won't need weeks to get through This book absolutely is it! The steam is well written and amazing, the love scenes ultimately cute. Nice read, really.

 Cloretta Daniels
Recommends This Book
    
Yes
Sweet story about new love with a widow and divorcee. I loved the development and implementation of their love and how it effects their life. Just because they are adults their new relationship is interrupted by life.


Sounds like a hot read,

Thanks for sharing,

Anita


Tuesday, October 1, 2019

The Gift by Daryl Devore , #romance , #episodic , #flashfiction


The Gift
Daryl Devoré
Heat Rating – sweet



The Gift is my latest re-release. It‘s an whimsical episodic novella that was the final result of a flash fiction period I went through. I can be a bit long winded. I needed to learn to cut my word count. I joined a group that wrote a weekly story that was based on a limited number of 1,000 words and had to include some of the offered prompts. Some were words – extinct, a piece of paper with a single line on it, or the twelfth of never. Others were pictures – a red tulip, blue DNA or a kiss. 
I realized this story was written similarly to stories that were printed weekly in the newspapers of old. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle presented Hounds of the Baskervilles this way – with weekly installments. Brilliant idea. The newspaper sales that would generate as people got into the story. So instead of adjusting to fit the story to more modern thinking, I left it in the episodic form.
There are elements of mystery, playfulness and romance which tie up at the very end. But I did leave a deliberate hole for the readers to fill. If you read the story and wish to discuss with me what you think was on the ground – daryl.devore@yhoo.ca or @daryldevore.

Excerpt
Do you believe in magic? I am beginning to think I do. It can be the only possible explanation for my story? 
~***~
"When was the last time you were offered the gift of a red tulip?"
I turned to see who spoke while I wondered if he was addressing me. A man sat on a park bench, dressed in a dark suit, with a bowler hat, holding a cane and his head bowed. I shifted to continue along the path,  and when his face lifted I found myself gaping at two glowing green eyes.
"When was the last time you were offered the gift of a red tulip?"
I blinked, trying to look away from those mesmerizing orbs. A mixture of fear and intrigue fluttered in my belly. "Uh, never. I mean, no one has ever offered me a tulip."
"A red tulip."
"Okay, no one has ever offered me a red tulip." Uneasiness slithered through me. "Nice chatting with you." 
Smiling, I scurried down the path leading away from the park bench and towards the gardener's shed. With Jacobs being sick today, I had to hurry to get the last of the flower beds cleaned and prepared for spring plantings. The past winter had been bitter. It seemed tree branches and mouse damage wreaked havoc on every one of the one hundred and sixteen different flowerbeds.
I slipped my key into the lock, opened the shed door, stepped inside and shut it behind me. The fragrance of old wood, potting soil and gas fumes brought a tickle to the back of my throat. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself a moment to indulge in the beauty of his eyes. Emerald green. As brilliant as the gems locked among the diamonds at Tiffany's. Not that I shop there. Couldn't possibly afford anything on a junior gardener's salary, but I do fantasize when wandering the aisles.
What would it be like to be with a man like that? For those few moments in his presence, I was unable to think. My breath caught in my lungs. My palms were slick with beads of sweat. I shook my head, opened my eyes, and tugged the ever-present hair tie off my wrist. "Get over yourself, Darcy. A man like that wants a supermodel who can slink around on eight-inch heels. Not someone who digs in the dirt all day."

Blurb and Buy Links
Daryl Devore’s latest is a sweet whimsical romance with a touch of mystery
Darcy O'Calahann, a junior gardener from a small mid-western town, is trying to make her way in the big city. After a stranger asks a mysterious question, Darcy finds a red tulip inside her locked gardening shed.
Shamus McTavis is a wealthy bachelor with a mysterious family past. But more surprising is his resemblance to the stranger who offered her the red tulip.
Are Darcy's eyes playing tricks on her? Is she losing her mind? Or is there really a red tulip trying to link Shamus and her together?
Note- This book was previously published under the author’s pen name – Victoria Adams


Buy Links



Amazon – Australia – Paperback – later date 



Anita

Check out others on the NeverEnding Blog






Tuesday, September 17, 2019

His Innocent Bride by Kryssie Fortune , #EroticMystery , #Romance , #Regency



His Innocent Bride
A stand-alone regency Romance
By Kryssie Fortune

Publisher Stormy Night Publications
Genre Regency Spanking Romance

Does her husband want Alethea dead?

Publisher’s Blurb
Going about her mundane life in a small fishing village, Alethea never dreamed she would end up with a man like the Earl of Deanswood, yet when she caught the handsome gentleman's eye he wasted no time in making her his wife. Unbeknownst to Alethea, however, her conniving mother has convinced Deanswood that she has no interest in the marital bed. Devastated by his seeming disinterest, Alethea searches for someone to instruct her in the ways of enticing a man.

When a friend informs Deanswood of Alethea's plans, he decides to train his new bride himself. Soon enough, Alethea finds herself naked, blindfolded, and helplessly bound as she is thoroughly spanked and then brought to one blushing, quivering climax after another. But when Alethea's life is threatened by her mother's vicious scheming, can Deanswood protect his innocent bride?

Publisher's Note: His Innocent Bride is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

A screenshot of a social media post of a person

Description automatically generated


Buy links
Amazon Australia https://amzn.to/2MzN0S0
OR READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

Excerpt
Stonehurst’s eyes shone with mischief. “Your wife came to my establishment earlier. She offered me five guineas to fuck her.”
Deanswood spluttered and almost spat out his brandy. “She did what?”
Stonehurst leaned back and savored a second sip of his wine. “Do you want me to repeat it? After you’ve drawn everyone’s gaze? I didn’t take her money or screw her, of course. Let’s find somewhere to talk.”
Anger turned Deanswood’s features haughty and harsh. Fists curled, he glowered at his friend. Make that former friend. He’d rather beat Stonehurst senseless than talk. “You keep your bloody hands off her.”
All Deanswood had wanted was an heir and a spare. Instead, his wife barred him from her bed—unless a quick screw with no foreplay or kisses once a month counted. He’d rather have stayed single.
He’d dreamed of a wife with a warm smile and sweet nature. Curves that made his mouth water and his palms twitch would be a bonus. Leg-shackling himself to Alethea Allerton was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
He should have made it clear that he expected to bear his children and submit to the occasional spanking. In return, he’d teach her about passion, bondage, and obedience. Until his mother-in-law collared him in the library, he’d been looking forward to his wedding night. His mother-in-law’s words had kyboshed that.
Stonehurst struggled to contain his laughter. “So, what really happened on your wedding night?”
“It’s none of your business,” Deanswood snapped.
Unabashed, Stonehurst grinned. “Your wife made it my business. Her dress sense is shocking. Is that why you couldn’t perform last night?”
Stonehurst was right. Alethea had involved him in the tangled mess of her marriage. “Did Alethea say I couldn’t… Of course, I could… Damn it, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“It might help to talk about it,” Stonehurst suggested.
Deanswood sighed. “Nothing else seems to. After I’d thrown Lady Babs out, my new mother-in-law collared me in the library. She read me an endless lecture on the sins of marital sex. I’d rather take a dressing down from Wellington than endure that again.”
Inwardly, Deanswood fumed. Why the hell had his wife waited until after the ceremony to send her mother to tell him she didn’t want sex? He supposed she was eager to get her grasping hands on his fortune.
When he learned his wife planned to cuckold him, his eyes narrowed and lips thinned in anger. A trip to Gentleman Jackson’s boxing salon beckoned. Going a few rounds with the champion might calm his soul.
Stonehurst’s teasing manner vanished, and he held up both hands, palm out. “I never touched her. We’re attracting too much attention. Walk with me.”
Deanswood had fought alongside Stonehurst in the Peninsular War and again at Waterloo. They’d shared too much to fall out over a woman. That said, Stonehurst enjoyed the earl’s discomfort far too much.


Kryssie Fortune Social Media


Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ 
Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Questions and Answers

1. Tell us about your hero.
James, Earl of Deanswood never expected to inherit the title. His father and older brother died the same day the battle of Waterloo started. Deanswood enlisted as a boy soldier and although he attained the rank of major, he sold out when he learned of his father’s death. Although it’s never officially stated in the book, he suffers from PTSD.

2. What is your favorite motivational phrase.
It’s one of Mohamed Ali’s catchphrases. “If my head can conceive it and my heart can believe it, then I can achieve it.”
3.  Tell us about your writing process and the way you brainstorm story ideas.
Brainstorm? It’s more like batter them to death with a hammer. I start with a random scene in my head and work out how people got there. Sometimes that one scene doesn’t even make it into the story. Once I’ve got the first draft finished, I edit, and edit, and edit. The first readthrough is to check the plot works. The next three are to polish the words. After that, I print it out and read it again. Words look different on paper. Next, I read it out loud. Then, and only then, do Iet my husband read it. Not that he’s a romance fan, but I’m dyslexic. He sees things I don’t.
After all that, my editor still makes changes. 
More about Kryssie Fortune. 

Kryssie reads everything and anything, from literary fiction to sizzling romance. Her earliest memory is going to the library with her mother. She can’t have been more than two at the time. Reading, especially when a book’s hot and explicit, is more than a guilty pleasure. It’s an obsession. 
Kryssie loves to visit historic sites, from Hadrian’s wall to Regency Bath. The first book she fell in love with was Georgette Heyer’s The Unknown Ajax. After that, she devoured every regency book she could. Part of Kryssie’s psyche lives in in in Regency London. She longs to dance quadrilles and flirt behind fans. Of course, Kryssie’s heroines do far more than flirt. 
Kryssie lives in Bridlington on the Yorkshire coast –about thirty miles from Whitby, where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. She enjoys gardening, travel, and socializing with her author friends. You’d be surprised how many erotic romance authors live in the North of England. 

Thanks for sharing and check out other NeverEndingTour Host

Anita