Sunday, November 15, 2015

Far From Blind


Far from Blind
Club Blind 2
by S.J. Maylee
Contemporary Erotic Romance
Released October 15th!

Book Description: Candy Wilson has worked hard to build a life for herself from nothing to something she can be proud of but she can’t catch the eye of the one man who drives her wild with desire. Brad Chambers has everything, always has, except the woman he loves. When a pitch black blind date at the exclusive Club Blind matches the pair together, Candy refuses to believe what she sees and throws up her protective barrier. It’s up to Brad to tear down her walls and get her to see the man who wants only her.
Be Warned: spanking and light BDSM
Where You Can Find Far from Blind

The first review is in!
"This story is another sizzling creation from SJ Maylee."

FFB Teaser - you don't want

Far from Blind Excerpt:

He closed the door behind them and the distinct click of a lock tumbling over echoed around the room. Maybe no showing yesterday was a mistake. If they’d had any chance at all, she’d blown it for sure. How could she expect him to trust her now? The air, thick with unsaid words, closed in around her.

It was time to take care of business and escape before she embarrassed herself. “This must be for you.” She held out the envelope.

“Thank you.” He took it from her and tore it open, revealing a piece of paper. His cheeks pulled into a little smile, then it disappeared. He maneuvered around his desk and sat. “Do you like me, Candy?” 

“Of course I do.” She clasped her arms around her middle. The bigger question is what he thought of her before Club Blind and now.

“Then why didn’t you show last night?” He pressed his lips together and kept his gaze on her.

“To be honest…”

“That’s all I’ll ever expect from you.”

“I’ll give it to you straight. You don’t want a girl like me.” She blew out a breath as if it could help her raging pulse. Never in a million years would she have guessed she’d want a man to tell her she was wrong.

“Is that what you believe?”

“Yes.” She kept her focus on him. He gave nothing away. His expression didn’t change, only his fingers tapped on his desk which was irritatingly neat.

“Then we have a problem.” He stood. “We’d agreed to meet. I kept up my end.”

“And I didn’t.” She blew out a deep breath.

“Come here.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t take her next breath either.

He pointed to the ground in front of him. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

She jumped and then slipped around his desk. Damn, he really did smell good. No matter whether it was aftershave or him, the deep woodsy scent turned here on. Everything about Brad turned her on. 

“Did I ask you to join me at Mistress Charlie’s yesterday?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do you believe I’m a liar?”


“I don’t think you are either.” He tapped under her chin, lifting her focus back to him. “But I don’t believe you’re being honest with me right now and that’s a problem.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t show yesterday.”

“I appreciate the admission, but I can’t let the action and the attitude go unpunished.”

“What, are you going to spank me?” She chuckled.

“I think it’s time.” He tucked some of her hair behind her ear and his touch lingered along the side of her neck over her ugly mole. “Don’t you agree?”

“Agreed, Sir.” She leaned back on his desk. It was the only thing holding her up.



“Very good. Bend over my desk, please.”

“Right here?” She looked around his office. She didn’t find any windows to the hall, but his windows facing the next building were wide open. “You really are pissed.”

The corner of his lips lifted slightly. “The windows are treated. No one can see in here.” 


“You’re stalling.”

“Can you blame me?”

“You do know I’m an accountant, right?” He tugged on her hair. “We like to add.”

Praise for the first book in the Club Blind Series
In the Blind

The Romance Reviews “There is a good mix of heat woven into the storyline, perfect for an erotic romance. With the thrill and excitement of the sex club, the author has created the beginning of an interesting series.”

Night Owl Reviews “The beginning of the story leaves you wanting to know more. It has a unique premise. By the end of the first chapter, I was eager to finish the book…the author takes the reader on a wonderful journey” Cocktails and Books “There was humor, some angst, romance, and of course, I already mentioned the incredible sex. You’ll be quite satisfied by the end. I know I sure was.”

  CB - You are a fantasy

S.J. MAYLEE BIO: SJ Button 2 300x300 with border

S.J. Maylee fell in love with storytelling at a young age and with it came a deep-seated desire for everyone to find their happily ever after. She’s finding the happy endings for her characters one steamy story at a time. When she’s not reading or writing, you can find her caring for her garden, laughing with her two young sons, or dancing to her husband’s music. She’s a PMP (Project Management Professional), Nia instructor, and coffee addict. As a writer she has a tendency to break hearts, but she always glues them back together.


Sunday, November 8, 2015

Coming Attractions

Out Now – Coming Attractions by Rosie Vanyon (@RVanyon) #romance #erotica #mf 


During a freak summer storm, screenwriter and heiress, Cara Kelly and movie producer, Levi Callister are marooned alone for days in a mansion used as the set for an erotic film series.

When Levi discovers Cara sleeping naked in one of the sensuously themed rooms, the two embark on a collision course that can only end up in flagrante.

Cara is a nomadic loner, too afraid to commit to family, a home—or even a potted begonia. Levi is a player—a womanizer and entrepreneur. He needs a lot of money, fast.

So, when sparks fly between the unlikely pair both in and outside of the various sexily-decorated bedrooms, Cara can’t help wondering if Levi’s insatiable interest in her is real—or if it’s just her missing inheritance he’s chasing.

Buy links

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble
AllRomance Ebooks
Evernight Publishing


She was practically naked—the last pastel pink scrap of lace hid nothing. He could see, touch, taste everything. And yet there was something incredibly intimate and romantic about the slide of his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, the slow drift of lace and fingertips over her thighs, the feel of his breath against her center.

She was desperately aroused, screamingly eager, wet and hot and throbbing for him. Her clit was puckered tight and the muscles inside her were clenched with anticipation.

He let her panties slither to her ankles, clasped the cheeks of her butt, and pressed his scorching mouth hard and without warning against her wet sex. His lips were apart and he sucked her inside his mouth—the whole plump folded core of her—and his tongue probed unerringly to her clitoris. The feel of his mouth was the most incredible pressure she had ever experienced. The fast, sure flicking of his tongue inside the full suckling of his lips almost drove her out of her mind. She had not known there was pleasure like this to be had.

Her whole body was flushed with longing, her breath was growing irregular, and her pulse was breakdancing all over the place. She could feel the tantalizing edges of orgasm fluttering around the limits of her excitement. But she needed more. Something to tip her over that exquisite, elusive precipice.

“More...” she gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he pressed his face between her thighs, maintaining her pleasure. But even as she begged, she had no idea how he could deliver what she needed. His ministrations were already utterly and deliciously absorbing.

She clung to him, a single drop of perspiration trickling between her engorged breasts as she gasped her need.

“Please…” The word was thin and strangled. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for.

He slid his right hand from her buttocks around her hip and across her thigh. With nothing more than a gesture, he commanded her thighs apart and, lost in a maelstrom of lust, she mindlessly acquiesced. She felt utterly wanton standing before this man, legs spread while he thrilled her with his talented mouth, his hand stroking relentlessly up and down her thighs.

His fingers traveled lightly, teasingly, sometimes grazing the trimmed hair at her center, occasionally brushing the fleshy entrance to her feminine core.

She could barely catch her breath now and she felt dizzy. Her throat was clamped shut and the razzle-dazzle of dancing lights behind her eyelids told her she was close to losing consciousness. She was no longer holding his shoulders for balance and encouragement. Instead, her fingers dug into his skin for support, and as a desperate plea for him to take her where she needed to go.

“Please, Levi, please...”

He didn’t hesitate. On the next upstroke between her thighs, he drove his finger deep into her sex. Plunging the digit once, twice, thrice into her soaked and scorching channel.

And then she flew apart. The orgasm rocketed through her like a searing star shower. There was no room for thought. Her release was pure sensation, so intense it was almost painful, so complete it was practically spiritual. The spasms rocked the depths of her very being and even as they began to subside, she knew what Levi had given her was a gift both precious and rare, and that the experience had changed her so profoundly there was no return.

Gently, lovingly, he helped her to the bed, easing her quaking body down on the silken covers, sliding beside her and gathering her in his arms. Slowly, as though from far, far away, she came back to herself. First she noticed the warmth of his body in the cool air of the room, the scuff his body hair against her smooth skin, the soothing glide of his fingertips over her quivering arm and her hip. His heartbeat beneath her ear was a perfect counterpoint to the rain thrumming against the window. His breath tasted faintly of mint and wine and her own musk. Her breathing slowed to match his lungs’ steady rhythm and her trembling began to abate.

“You look beautiful there,” he murmured against her hair. “Your golden hair spread all across the bed, your skin glowing, your lips swollen...”

His hands emphasized his words, stroking her body more intently as he spoke. Of their own volition, her fingers followed suit, trailing over his skin, mindlessly exploring the bulges and hollows of his body. He shivered when her short fingernails skimmed his nipple, gasped when she trailed her index finger down his hip toward the waistband of his briefs.

There was no mistaking his arousal. The thick length of him spasmed every time her hand drew close, and there was a tell-tale spot of dampness near the tip. Enjoying his responses, she teasingly drew her fingers around his belly and down the edges of his jutting hipbones, across the elastic of his underwear and up and down the arrow of hair between his navel and the stretch of blue fabric. He hissed and growled and squirmed under her ministrations.

“You are going to drive me completely insane,” he ground out, but he made no move to hurry her or change her agenda. She could see the pulse leaping at his throat, the desperate bob of his Adam’s apple, the sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

She smiled saccharine sweetly at him and deliberately brushed her hand over the bulge in his pants. 

“Really?” Cara said. She did it again. “I’m so sorry...”

“Funny, Cara, you don’t sound very sorry.”

Was he actually panting?

She quirked an eyebrow, her gaze all delighted mischief. “It’s hard to be sorry when there’s this tempting package right in front of me, just begging to be unwrapped.”

“If you’d like to unwrap it, Cara, be my guest.”

“Oh, I’ll unwrap it all right, but I like to open my presents in my own sweet time. I enjoy prolonging the anticipation.”

She scuttled up his body and swallowed his groan in her mouth from her position beside him. The taste of him was complex and addictive. His lips were clever and intuitive. His tongue was thorough and tempting. Cara felt as though she could stay here, kissing like this, lost in Levi forever.

Author bio 

In between writing romantic stories, Rosie Vanyon is building a house on a hillside with stunning mountain views in her childhood home, Tasmania. She’s looking forward to sharing her dream house with her high-maintenance dog and a couple of naughty-but-smoochy cats. She has a Creative Arts degree and a grown-up job in financial services. Rosie has been a writer and editor in fields as diverse as motoring, travel and tax. She is relieved and elated to (once again) let loose her ‘romance author’ alter-ego. At last, she is following her heart.

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Sunday, November 1, 2015

Something Different

Out Now – Something Different by Nia Farrell #erotica #menage #mfm #bdsm 

SOMETHING DIFFERENT (The Three Graces Book Two) is a standalone MFM ménage BDSM rock star erotic romance by Nia Farrell. Only $2.99 for a potty mouthed gamer girl and triple platinum indie artists who are about to rock her world.


“Sexy and sultry” “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.” “Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”


Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate. Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways. No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner, Anna's alter ego AJ McPherson. From the first, it’s clear that the triple-platinum indie rock stars want more than her music, but does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twin brothers who perform as No Mercy?

Buy links to Something Different: 

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble
Dark Hollows Press

The Three Graces Series by Nia Farrell
SOMETHING ELSE August 25, 2015
SOMETHING DIFFERENT September 29, 2015
SOMETHING MORE October 15, 2015
from Dark Hollows Press


They’re staring now, trying to reconcile reality with my stage name and with how I look in the cheesy publicity photo I use, shot four years ago when I turned eighteen and my mother wanted the whole glamour thing captured for posterity. She’s never forgiven me for refusing to let them tease and torture my hair. In the shot, I’m looking over my shoulder like I’m caught in a fucking daydream, while my thick, straight hair drapes my back like a black silk curtain.

I wear my hair shorter now, streaked with red and purple. Those splashes of color and my asymmetrical cut keep it well this side of boring.

My eyes, on the other hand, are the same. Unlike my hair, they wouldn’t improve with the enhancement of colored contacts. They’re purple. Fucking Liz Taylor purple–one of those anomalies of nature that my mother can’t explain. Hell, I’ve caught my dad looking at me sideways, like I might be the spawn of an incubus, ‘cause there’s no way that I belong to the Chinese-born mail man. I guess my wild ways haven’t given him any peace of mind, either. Shit, when I met Grace, she didn’t screw, didn’t swear. Now she goes to bed with two strapping men every night and has a mouth that could make a biker blush. As far as I’m concerned, my corruption of her is complete.

Right now, she’s staying blessedly silent. The Thomason twins are, too.

When the intensity of their stares shifts from kind of rude to downright disconcerting, I’m tempted to stick out my tongue and tease them with the surgical steel ball I’ve sported since I turned twenty-one last year. Right now Jacob’s looking at the diamond stud adorning my left nostril, and Jackson’s staring at my C-cup breasts, his own nostrils flaring as my responsive nipples tighten to hardened nubs.

Enough of this shit.

“Guys.” I drop my voice to a husky whisper that could earn six figures at a 900 number. “I might use an outdated picture to throw people off, but my eyes–they’re fucking purple, for Christ’s sake.”

Yep, the eyes have it. Recognizing them, both men sit straighter and exchange a look that makes excitement thrum in my veins. They’re here to see Nico, but why? I remind myself to breathe, tell myself to slow down before my imagination runs too wild. They wouldn’t be the first major artists wanting to lay tracks with the American Indian artist and his native flutes.

“So…AJ–Anna James.” Jackson says it likes he’s tasting my name, tasting me.

I swear my pussy’s gushing. Okay, so they might not have come looking for me, but they know my work. They’re big fish in my small pond, and their recognition means everything to someone like me.

“Yes, but please, guys, call me Anna. Jax. Jake.”

Recognizing them as individuals, and not just as No Mercy, earns me a brownie point. I rack up more for not going all fangirl on them.

“You work with Nico White. Motherfucker.” Jackson eyes his brother, then turns back to Grace. “Nico’s expecting us at eight. I suppose we’ll see you both then?”

Eight? Shit. That’s– 

 “You’ll see more of Anna,” Grace tells them. “I make myself scarce on music writing night. The energy’s too intense for me.”

I’ve suspected as much, but the lake where she lives with her lovers is really conducive to creativity. So, rather than meet at the apartment I rent above a vintage storefront on Main Street or somewhere else, Nico and I have our songwriting sessions at their house. Grace, bless her, doesn’t complain, since it means she gets to have some alone-time with J.T., the half-Puerto Rican member of their threesome.

While Grace starts a review of local businesses that would make a Chamber of Commerce proud, I’m thinking of tonight. I might be working with these two men, writing for them. Fuck, maybe we’ll be writing with them. The possibility makes me wet. I know how Nico and I work. Our collaborations are so natural, so organic. We’re comfortable with each other.

These two make me anything but.


Nia Farrell has been writing for pleasure since junior high. Now that she writes about pleasure, she can share the fantasy worlds she visits and introduce readers to characters who remain with her long after their tales are told.

When crafting a story, Nia draws upon a rich diversity of life experiences, which include singer/songwriter, prize winning needle artist, private pilot, Reiki Master/Teacher, crystal healer, psychic fair reader, jewelry maker, physician's assistant, factory worker, waitress, genealogist, period reenactor, and children's author. If this life isn't enough, there are plenty of others to choose from. Otherwise, she devotes hours of research to subjects outside her realm, determined that her stories ring true.

Nia lives on a farm in Southern Illinois (far, far from Chicago, in the heart of "Little Egypt"). A seventh generation Illinoisan, she is descended from Mayflower Pilgrims, American soldiers from the Revolutionary War to World War II, and Scottish nobility. She enjoys playing in the past and visits Ren fairs and historical reenactments in period attire, sharing her love of history and her passion for music. While her husband and two grown daughters may only read her nonfiction work, she appreciates their support in pursuing her dreams, one of which is being published in erotic romance.

Nia Farrell’s Facebook page
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Nia Farrell's Amazon page
Nia Farrell’s Author page at Dark Hollows Press

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Mine to Love


  Book two of the Hot Model Mine trilogy is finally here! Did you wonder what happened to erotic romance author Andrea and her irresistible cover model, Yushka, after the conference in Cannes? In book one, The Perfect Shoot, things were complicated for the couple. He was much younger than her—practically the same age as her twins—and she'd spent half her life without a man. After much reflection, she ended up giving into her desire and taking Mr. Hot Model for lover. But what then after they traveled back to their separate lives? Wait no more: They're here to tell the continuation of their sizzling love story :)  



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?  




While Yushka gets his duffel bag in the back seat, I lean against the side of the Corolla and stretch my arms on top of its roof. “You got everything?”

 “Yeah.” He lifts the bag over his shoulder and tilts his head in direction of the front door. “We good to go?”

My pulse beats a little faster at the thought of him dropping that bag on my bedroom floor and lifting me in his arms instead. I’m so excited to be with him, I simmer inside, aching to touch and hold him. I want to have all of him at once, right now.

A spark of amusement plays in his gorgeous Asian eyes as he waits for me to make a move. “What’s on your mind, Princess?”

Holding his gaze, I smile, my fingers tapping a beat on the car hood to buy some time because I don’t know what to reply. I have a feeling whatever might come out of my mouth now, like I can’t wait to rip those clothes off you or I’m going to make you scream, will sound too cheesy. Why do we need to put our attraction into words, anyway? Once we’re home, there’ll be no reason to talk that much. We’ll do the talking with our more-than-capable hands and … um … mouths.

I tap a quick rap before stepping back from the car. “Come on.”

“Okay.” Widening his smile, he follows me to the front entrance.

I unlock and push the wood door open. “I hope your bag’s not too heavy. The elevator doesn’t work.”

“When are they gonna fix it?”

“Huh, good question.” I step forward, but when in the doorway, I spin to hold the door open for him. “I have no idea.”

“No?” With a raised brow, he passes me.

Just then, I move toward him, chest-to-chest, blocking him and his thick bag between myself and the doorframe.

“Oh!” He laughs.

As the door pushes into my back, squeezing me tighter against him, I put my hands on his waist. First above his clothes––the thick leather jacket and his shirt––then sneaking underneath both of them, my fingers splaying on his warm skin and stroking him.

Completely stuck, he tilts his head and stares into my eyes, his own sparkling with playfulness. “What are you up to?”

“You have a problem?” I move my hands out from beneath his shirt and go downward to palm his tight ass cheeks, pulling his crotch to me. My lower stomach and increasingly heating inner thighs seek to meet his. I want to be so near him he’ll feel my lust, and I want his lust to grow, too. I need us to join and be a match, a melting pot of desire, irresistible and untamable.

“I have to bribe you?” he asks, voice lower, and leans down to kiss me.

How did he guess? At the warm touch of his parted lips, delight rushes through me as if I’d had a shot of alcohol.

He retreats his face a few inches, enough to have a view of what he just kissed. “This good enough for you?” His voice comes out husky, a bit short of breath. With his free hand, he strokes and kneads my butt.

“One more,” I mouth with the next exhale of air. Though the door bores painfully into my back, I don’t want to move, loving the feel of being so close to Yushka, so intimate. It’s amazing how instantaneous and intense our connection is. Just wait till we get our clothes off.

Again, his warm lips land on mine, and we kiss greedily, nose-to-nose, wet tongues playing with each other. My inner pussy muscles clench, remembering too well what it’s like to have his cock inside. I breathe faster. A growing hardness in his crotch presses against me, provoking more tightening. Oh, God. Hot wetness glides down my pussy, wetting my panties. So ready, so soon… I mew into his mouth, and he rewards me with a guttural response, our mouths practically eating each other.

But this isn’t the right place. We need to move and play this torturous game and its grand finale somewhere else.

Releasing his lips, I gasp from our separation, but still manage to pull away.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He inhales deeply and looks up, feverish eyes widening and trying to refocus.

As I step backward, forcing the door to open again, cold evening air sneaks between our heated bodies. “Let’s go,” I say with a croak, my chest heaving.

He gives a small nod and steps inside the low-lit lobby.  


Evernight | | | All Romance eBooks | Bookstrand | Smashwords | iTunes Add the book to your Goodreads list, and check out my inspiration on Pinterest! Would you like to read the first book, The Perfect Shoot? You can find it here.  


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 contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to or meet me on: Website | Lea's Crazy Nights Blog | Facebook profile | Facebook page | Twitter | Amazon  

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Club Aegis Series

Join The Club – Club Aegis Series by Christie Adams @ChristieAdams #clubaegis #britromance

Series Blurb: Club Aegis 

Aegis – the shield of Zeus, and by extension, a means of protection. The men and women who are members of Club Aegis have all played their part in protecting their country. They work hard…and they play hard. Their lives are not always easy – and sometimes they have to put their lives on the line, not just for their country but for those they love.

Purchase Links 

The Velvet Ribbon (Club Aegis 1)
Amazon US
Amazon UK

Love Is Danger (Club Aegis 2)
Amazon US
Amazon UK

A Wanting Heart (Club Aegis 2.5)
Amazon US
Amazon UK

Blurb: The Velvet Ribbon (Club Aegis 1) 

Alex Lombard is a Dom with a dark past. The former SAS officer, now a successful businessman, carries the scars of his past both on his body and in PTSD-induced nightmares resulting from more than just his service to his country. The light in his life takes the form of his assistant, Beth Harrison, the woman whom he has secretly coveted since she came to work for him.

Beth has been attracted to her employer from the day she met him. When not at work, she fills her time with writing stories featuring the BDSM lifestyle she craves but has not yet found the courage to explore. Though she knows nothing of his extra-curricular interests, Alex is the inspiration for the Dom in her latest novel.

Then Alex makes a chance discovery, and when Beth becomes the victim of a street crime, the two of them come together to find what is missing from both their lives. However, their path to happiness is beset not just by the teething troubles of a new relationship—a ghost from Alex’s past has returned, bent on revenge, and Alex is not the only one in his sights…

NOTE: This work was previously published. It has been retitled, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Blurb: Love Is Danger (Club Aegis 2) 

Having only just dumped her lecherous two-timing boyfriend, Stacie Matheson never expected, when her car broke down in a storm, to be rescued by a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed knight in a shining Jaguar. Cam is everything her ex was not—and more besides.

Now that his old friend Alex has settled into married life with his submissive, Beth, Cameron Fraser is ready to surrender his single status. What he isn’t ready for is being blindsided by a beautiful curvy damsel-in-distress.

Fate has brought them together – the Dom who needs a submissive, and the woman who takes her first steps into the world of submission at his side. However, there’s more to Cam’s life than the sensual games he plays with Stacie. When that life intrudes on their relationship, neither is prepared for the devastating consequences.

Blurb: A Wanting Heart (Club Aegis 2.5)

What happens when a former Royal Navy officer is given a second chance with the woman he loves?

Ryan Quinn is still in love with the woman he lost three years ago. For him, there can be no other. When he sees Fiona again at her sister’s wedding, he has no choice but to risk his heart for a second time, by reminding her of what they once shared.

How wrong can a woman be?

Tragic and complicated family circumstances had left Fiona Pearce with no option but to turn her back on the man she loved and drive him out of her life. When his path crosses hers again, she feels compelled to apologise, even though she fears she may be opening old wounds that are best left undisturbed.

Events take an unexpected turn, giving Ryan the opportunity to suggest that they go away together for a few days. To his surprise, Fiona agrees. In the remote cottage their love is rekindled, but it takes a blizzard to erase the past and allow them to start finding out who they really are – together.

NOTE: This is a previously published work. The title, author, and/or publisher may have changed.

Author Bio 

When she isn't actually writing, Christie is often thinking about writing - either the book she's currently working on, or one of the dozen other stories she'll have percolating away at the back of her mind.

In addition to writing, she also loves lazing around with a good book, or browsing the internet in search of cute pictures of dogs and puppies, a pastime that often helps with writer's block - or so she claims. She likes James Bond movies, and cries at the end of "You've Got Mail" every time.

Good chocolate is also one of her passions in life, often accompanied by a glass of her favourite tipple, English sparkling wine. And if she can be persuaded to abandon her writing for a while, she finds that chocolate, wine and a good movie on TV is an excellent way to pass a dark winter's evening.

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Excerpt: The Velvet Ribbon (Club Aegis 1) 

The sound of heels on hardwood provided the metronomic fanfare that alerted Alex to the imminent arrival of Beth Harrison—his executive assistant, right-hand woman and, of late, source of growing frustration. He looked up from the correspondence in his hand, eyes narrowing at her approaching reflection in the tinted window that gave him a panoramic view over London.

Those damn fuck-me shoes! A muscle tensed in his tightly clenched jaw. While her working wardrobe went from black to white, with every shade of grey between, her footwear was downright rebellious—immaculate heels, never less than four inches in height, in a myriad selection of styles and eye-catching colours.

Which ones today? It was a question that crossed Alex’s mind every morning. He’d never considered himself to have any kind of shoe fetish until Beth came to work for him. Every morning it was the same, and the litany of colours was ever-expanding. As for today—would it be the peacock blue? Or the metallic purple, perhaps? He was rather fond of the latter.

No, today it was a new pair…new to the office, at any rate. The vivid red patent leather heels, with an ankle strap adorned with an eye-catching bow, were incredibly flattering to her slender feet and shapely ankles…and those gorgeous legs clad in sheer black nylon with seams straighter than an arrow. Oh, the fantasies he’d had about having those legs wrapped around his hips while he sank his cock into her lush body, felt her contract hard around him, heard her panting cries as he spilled inside her at the moment of her climax… 

His eyes continued upward, taking in the flannel-grey pencil skirt—the fabric clinging to her curves, so fitted that it gave her hips an ultra-feminine sway as she walked. He experienced a sharp, momentary twinge of disappointment; for the lines to be that smooth, there was no way she was wearing stockings. He tried to curb his disappointment that beneath the skirt, there would be no tantalising exposure of creamy skin at the top of her thighs.

She wore the crisp, brilliant white cotton blouse with the top buttons undone, hinting at a delicious cleavage, the long sleeves fastened at her delicate wrists with mock cufflinks. French-manicured nails tipped elegant fingers that clasped a notebook and pen.

And then there was her face: heart-shaped, lightly made-up, alluring green eyes behind unremarkable spectacles, all crowned by upswept, luxuriant, brown hair threaded with gold, and not one strand out of place. In the three years that she’d been his assistant, he’d never seen her anything less than cool, calm and utterly professional.

What he’d give to see her come apart under the force of the orgasms he could give her.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Girls Will Be Girls

New Release - Girls Will Be Girls by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #lesbian #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited 


Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection contains a variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: (universal Amazon link)

Add to your Goodreads shelves:


She was now mere inches away, but the thickness of the bushes meant she could still only see the boots and now a bit more of the green trousers. Stepping onto the mud, she crouched down beside the feet, carefully pushing the foliage aside so she could see what the hell was going on, and figure out what she was going to do about it.

The view opened up, and Verity, far from seeing a helpless person lying on the soil, was presented with a green-clad arse reversing hurriedly in her direction!

“Hey!” she said, letting go of the branches and shifting back so abruptly she ended up on her own arse on the grass. “Be careful! Are you all right?”

As the body continued emerging, Verity slowly came to realise her mistake. Dirt-covered trousers, a filthy black waterproof coat, gloved hands, and a head topped with a floppy hat were soon visible. Slim white cables trailing from each ear and disappearing into the collar of the coat explained why she hadn’t been heard calling out, or received a response.

This woman hadn’t hurt herself. She was a fucking gardener!

Frozen in her uncomfortable position, Verity wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Perhaps as revenge for her landing on it so hard. But she had no such luck. Instead, she heard, “What on earth are you doing down there? Are you all right?”

Struck dumb, Verity nodded and took the now glove-free hand that was offered to her, allowing the other woman to pull her up off the grass. “I—I’m fine,” she finally forced out, breaking the brief eye contact and making a show of brushing herself down, though it was probably only her bottom that was dirty. Her cheeks blazed, and she took a step back, hoping to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’m glad. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there.” The ear buds now hung down the woman’s front, and she was apparently poised, awaiting a reply.

Verity shook her head. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Narrowing her eyes, the gardener said, “Try me.”

Christ. Just to add insult to injury, it seemed she was now suspected of some kind of wrongdoing, too! “I—I was over there,” she pointed to where she’d come from, “and I saw your wellies poking out from the bushes. I panicked because I thought someone had fallen and hurt themselves. I came over to try and help. I did call out to you, to see if you were all right. But all I could see was the boots and a little bit of your trousers. I had no idea what was going on. Much less that you were the bloody gardener and remained oblivious to what I was up to because you had headphones in! I crouched down and pushed the bushes aside so I could see you better, and the next thing I know you’re shuffling back towards me. I shifted out of the way and ended up tumbling over on my bum.”

It seemed her story was too amusing to be anything but true, because the gardener grinned widely, then clapped a hand over her mouth momentarily. “I’m so sorry,” she then said, “I didn’t hear you, honestly. But I guess I can see why you thought that. Thank you so much for coming to check on me, but it really wasn’t necessary. All I was doing was fighting with a particularly vicious weed.” She pointed down to an uprooted plant at her feet, then widened her eyes. “Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Twisting to try and look at her bottom, Verity brushed again at the seat of her jeans. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit of muck and grass stains, I think. Nothing that won’t come out in the washing machine.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I feel bad enough as it is without thinking you’ve hurt yourself or ruined your clothes, too.”

“No, I’m good. And I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Then Verity took another step back. “Right, well, I’d better get going, anyway. Nice to meet you.” She turned to go, but the other woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, wait. No need to rush off. I’m just about to go on my tea break. Want to join me? Perhaps a brew will make up for it?” Her green eyes—apt, for a gardener, Verity thought—sparkled with humour and intelligence, and for the first time, Verity realised that, underneath the grubby gardening gear and large hat was a very attractive woman.

Still, an excuse was on the tip of her tongue—she had come here to be alone, after all—but fate intervened. Or the British weather did, anyway. A handful of fat raindrops fell onto her, followed by a few more. Then, the heavens truly opened.

Author Bio: 

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Secret Desires

What’s your Secret Desire? 

Secret Desire by Jan Graham


When Jake Munroe moves into his new apartment he has no idea the woman of his dreams is literally right next door. She’s beautiful, sexy, and frustratingly elusive. Finding the right time to make his move seems like it will never come, until she walks through the doors of his nightclub.

Sally isn’t looking for a new relationship but when Jake appears in her life, she grabs the opportunity to partake in some sexual healing. Her ex-husband left her convinced she could never sexually excite or satisfy a man, but those rule don’t seem to apply to Jake. He wants her—at least for now.

Desire rules us all and Jake's desire for Sally is unequalled to anything he’s experienced before. He wants her in his life and is determined to have her, no matter what it takes. When he thinks he's finally made Sally his own, he discovers a horrible truth. Sally has kept their relationship hidden from everyone she knows and Jake refuses to be anyone’s secret plaything.

Buy links

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon AU

Also available from iTunes, Barnes and Noble, Nook, and Kobo, just type in the book or author name to acquire the listing.


Something icy cold pressed against Sally’s arm and she felt another chill run through her. She raised her head and stared at the large glass of water in front of her.

“You’re probably dehydrated. You hardly stopped dancing all night.” The deep, smooth voice washed over her, causing her body to begin to heat once more.

Sally turned her head toward the warmth and when she finally managed to focus her eyes, she wanted to moan in ecstasy. If there really was a God then he had truly out done himself. The man smiling down at her was perfection. He sat on the bar stool next to her, leaning against the wall. His hair was dark, almost black and hung just below his broad shoulders in long tantalizing waves. It sat brushed back from his face at the front, except for one stray curly strand that had worked its way loose to kiss up against his cheekbone.

His eyes were dark like his hair and conveyed the same warmth as his voice. His lips were thick and lush, ideal for kissing. As her gaze roamed down his body, she was taken by the hard chest and abs that were defined under his tight T-shirt, his legs were a lengthy example of perfection, muscular thighs under dark denim, and a bulge—Sally snapped her eyes back to his face and hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Drink.” He leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear.

Oh, how could a man smell so divine? She had never smelt a man like him before. Sally’s pussy started to tingle, as he watched her bring the glass to her lips, and take a refreshing drink. She inhaled deeply. Accents of cinnamon and spice tantalized her nostrils. Talk about olfactory heaven.

“I just thought I’d sit here while I waited for my friends.” Sally had no idea why she felt the need to explain her presence to him and couldn’t understand why he looked at her with a wry smile as she spoke.

“I think they’ve left.” He gestured toward the dance floor.

“Oh God, I fell asleep didn’t I?” Sally was horrified once she realized the house lights were on and the dance floor empty. In fact the whole club was empty except for a few bar staff who were cleaning up.

“We cleared everyone out and closed the club about forty minutes ago.” He was smiling at her as he spoke. “You looked so peaceful I thought I’d let you sleep until I was ready to leave.”

Sally gasped when his body brushed against hers as he bent forward, a blaze of heat stroking her body where he touched. She noticed how his gaze roamed along her stockinged legs as he bent to pick up her shoes. As he returned to an upright position, his lips brushed against her leg and he planted a kiss on the lace that sat mid-thigh. She wanted to move, to push her wayward hemline back in place. Instead she just stared at the heated point where his lips had been, feeling the warmth spread upward toward her quickly moistening pussy.

“Nice stockings.” He stated as he took her hand and assisted her in stepping down from the stool. Sally wasn’t sure how she did it, but she managed to pull the hem of her dress back into position as he led her through a door and down a hallway to the club’s back entrance.

About the Author

Writing a bio that lets readers know who you are is tricky at times because I describe myself in so many ways. Like my books, I fall into different genres, all of which depend on my mood and inspiration at the time. I am a writer, a submissive, an orphan, a widow, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and sometimes, a wild child.

I live in Australia and writing is my passion, although finding the time to do it on a consistent basis is always a challenge for me. Life sends you curve balls when least expected them and I’ve had my fair share over the last few of years.

My writing currently falls under a variety of genres including BDSM, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense but who knows where my literary future will lead. That’s going to be the next exciting chapter of my life.

More information about what I’m up to, and general nonsense, is available by checking out my online hangouts. 

Amazon Author Page