Sunday, August 21, 2016


Out Now! - Between You and I by Beth D. Carter (@bethdcarter)

Thank you so much for having me here today!  I’ve often had people ask why do I write erotica romance? Do I really have to use those words? Well, yes. Yes, I do. And I’ve had it all.  The raised eyebrows, the nose in the air, even the rolled eyes. Everything that screams disapproval.  All because I say I write erotica romance.  People can’t seem to get past the ‘erotica’ part of that statement.

But I can’t NOT write.  I might explode if I’m not at my laptop trying to find a synonym for the words ‘gazed into his eyes’.  And why erotica romance?  Because it’s real. The sex is graphic because the love is intense.  My stories are not about people like the Cleavers, or the Brady Bunch.  My stories are about people with problems…about an ex-soldier fighting PTSD, women kidnapped for a human trafficking ring, a man who was inappropriately touched as a child, a woman who has survived alone in a wasteland for years.  These characters are raw.  Their emotions are encased in ice.  These people are helpless, hopeless…until love finds them. 

In my latest book, Between You and I, the heroine, Madeline, is scared about feeling again after the man she loves walks away from her.  She hides behind a plethora of interesting friends, keeping herself busy so she’s not lonely.  Or at least, she tries to convince herself she isn’t lonely.  When she meets Hunter, who is a little younger than her, she suddenly is confronted by the prospect of the numbness she’s wound herself in melting away.  

I’m not sure what other writers do, but I often use my writing as a way of dealing with my issues.  It’s very cathartic.  I’m very proud to have written about a woman who has gone through the same emotional turmoil I went through.  I hope Madeline’s story helps others who might be struggling with the same type of uncertainties.  

What inspired you to write Between You and I?  

This book was inspired by my own battle with endometriosis.  I was diagnosed in my twenties and suffered with pain, depression, and insomnia for over twenty years. It’s still a medical condition most people don’t know anything about.  I finally made the decision to have a hysterectomy last year and while lying in the hospital bed, I came up with Madeline.  For a few years I’d been toying with the idea of a book, but it was that moment, right after surgery, that Madeline became a real person to me.  

Tell us about the heroine, Madeline, in Between You and I

Externally, she’s tough.  She covers up her pain with a “no worries” attitude.  But internally, she’s lonely.  She wishes for someone to hold her and take care of her for a moment.  In that respect, she’s a personification of what I went through.  Writing, for me, is a very cathartic way of dealing with issues.  

Was there as specific part of the story that you absolutely loved writing as well as not enjoyed writing?
I loved finding her balance with the hero, Hunter.  He’s younger than her so having her get past her mental block on that was fun exploring.  My least favorite part in writing this story was figuring out the ending.  The one that the book ended up with was my second ending.  It was hard figuring out the believable way to write their happy ever after.

Please tell a little about Between You and I without giving too much of a spoiler away.

This book was inspired by my own battle with endometriosis.  For a few years I’d been toying with the idea of a book about a heroine who had it, but it was the moment right after my hysterectomy surgery, that Madeline became a real person to me.  The hero, Hunter, had to be a right balance of understanding, hunky, and confused, otherwise, he’s too one dimensional.  I think I hit that balance, and I consider this book one of my best.

Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?

Mostly my characters develop as I write them, but in this case, Madeline was planned out extensively, mainly because a lot of her is me.  I used my own struggle with endometriosis as her emotional platform to find love with a younger man.  

What is your favorite line in Between You and I?  Why?
“Tell me, right now, what’s standing between you and I that makes you scared of that word,” he demanded. “Why are you so afraid of love?”
I love that line!  It was the first line I thought of when I began to think of Madeline’s story and it’s where I got the title.  I know it’s not grammatically correct but it sounds more dramatic than “between you and me”.  

Blurb:

A broken engagement left Madeline Shawl feeling like a shattered woman.  When she meets Hunter Caligari, he seems to be the perfect man for some friends-with-benefits action.  But when the easy affair turns into something more, it threatens her comfortable grief. 

The passion of the younger man nearly infects her until Hunter tries to articulate it with the three words she refuses to hear. When she pushes him away, wounding his heart, she finds her own broken all over again. 

Still, Madeline struggles to leave the past and accept that when Hunter said, "I love you," he wasn't just speaking for himself.

Buy links:


Excerpt:

“Where do you live?” she asked once they reached her sedan.

“Off Silverado,” he said. “The Mustang Apartments.”

Madeline nodded and a few minutes later she was driving out of the parking garage, easing into traffic to head toward his home. The entire time she was acutely aware of his presence in her car, the warmth that his body generated inside the small confines. Or maybe she was simply hot and bothered.
All too soon she pulled in front of the gate that sealed off his apartment complex, and then slipped into an empty slot designated for future residents. She put the car in park and turned off the engine. For a moment neither one moved. She simply sat there, with her hands on the steering wheel, her heart pounding, and every nerve ending standing at attention. Waiting. Anticipating. He shifted and she felt his gaze on her, so slowly she turned.  The overhead parking lights illuminated his face through the front window, highlighting his chiseled good looks. Suddenly the small confines of her car seemed hot. A bit overwhelming. 

“I had a great time,” Hunter murmured.

Madeline wet her dry lips with her tongue. His head moved fractionally closer.

“Me…” She had to clear her throat from the huskiness coming through. “Me too.”

He smiled and their gazes met. Locked. She had this sense of free falling, just plunging head first into an unknown abyss. Had she ever felt like this with Kevin? With him everything had been easy. Simplistic. Nothing like what she was feeling now, with Hunter. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it, absorbing his heat. His eyelids narrowed a bit and his attention shifted to her mouth. All sorts of delicious tingles spread through her body because she knew he was going to kiss her. God! She wanted to kiss him back so much it was an ache deep in her gut. His head descended and her eyes fluttered shut just as the first touch of his mouth on hers brushed her lips. So gentle, like the dewy wisp of butterfly wings, and she wondered if he had kissed her at all.



Author Bio:

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers.  I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box.  I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love

I’ve been pretty fortunate in life to experience some amazing things.  I’ve lived in France, travelled throughout Europe, Australia and New Zealand.  I am a mom to an amazing little boy.  I’ve walked a red carpet event and visited the USS Voyager. I hate washing dishes but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes but I love wearing them. Writing my bio is difficult because I never know what to say so I hope you like this one.  My favorite color is red but I look best in black (it’s slimming).  I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, people who don’t use turn signals, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form.  And although I love holding a book in my hand, I absolutely adore my ereader, whom I’ve named Ruby.  I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web.



Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

A Variety of Chains


Pre-order blitz! A Variety of Chains - Erotic paranormal novel by Christine Blackthorn (@CBlackthorn @sinfulpress)


Sinful Press is proud to announce the pre-release of A Variety of Chains by Christine Blackthorn, the first in the Bloodhavens series.


Blurb

Kathryn McClusky is an ErGer – a rare and highly prized individual in the supernatural world.
She has spent her life running and hiding, but circumstances have changed and the only way to protect her family is to hand herself over to the Vampire Lord of London to face slavery or death.

Lucian Neben runs his London court with a stern but fair hand, but political pressures are building from both the human and fey worlds, and taking possession of an ErGer would cement his position of power. 

Kathryn is vulnerable and broken almost beyond repair, but she holds in her hands the one treasure Lucian desperately wants – the possibility of home and family.
Can he teach her to open herself up; to choose to life, and him, before reality forces him to take her freedom?


Pre-order links










Excerpt

He calmly straddled her, and as he leant forward to take her mouth in a deep kiss, his long hair curtained them in a world of their own. His kisses were deep and addictive, a leisurely play on her senses, an instant aphrodisiac. He took his time to taste and feel every last corner of her mouth and only let up when both their lips were swollen and sensitive.

"That's it. I want you to be only aware of me." There was a wicked light in his eyes – wicked, aroused and full of gentle laughter, a combination more desirable than anything. 

"First, I will narrow your world so that your busy little brain cannot take you away, and then I will play with you. The rules will be simple. I get to do whatever I want and you have to take it. If you tell me something I do not know and cannot find out any other way, something secret and intimate, then and only then will I give you relief."

She did not understand what he meant but her confusion was quickly overtaken by alarm when he covered her eyes with a soft cloth. She did not like the limitation to her sight even though he had blindfolded her repeatedly over the last two weeks. It made her tense, and increased her awareness of both his touch and his taste. She felt his lips stroking over the cloth, gentling her into the darkness. She was surprised when his hands slipped under her shoulders and he made her upper body more comfortable – she had not noticed the discomfort from her muscles, but he had. He had noticed the increased tenseness and adjusted her body to avoid it. That realisation was terrifying and reassuring in equal measures.

She felt him get off the bed, though his hand remained a calming pressure on her skin at all times. A gentle pressure was laid over her torso, just under her breasts, and as it tightened her body was further immobilised by what she realised was a strap. A second strap followed the first just over her breasts. Both straps were tight but not painful, smooth lines of warming leather on her overheated skin. 

"I am just making sure that you cannot move suddenly and risk hurting yourself." His voice was an anchor in her world, a deep note of calm in her rising nervousness. It almost failed to stave off the waves of panic when he gently lifted her right leg and bent it to attach a thigh cuff to the side of the bed, leaving her exposed. She tried to struggle but he had ensured that her range of movement was already so limited that any resistance was ineffective at best. Quickly he attached a second cuff on her other thigh and tightened the ankle restraints, leaving her laid out on the bed, restrained and open, her legs parted and bent, entirely helpless and accessible to his touch. 

"You have no idea how beautiful you are like this – splayed for my desire, unable to resist the pleasure I can give you."


Author Bio

In "real" life, I am an academic with degrees in Political Science, Economics, Philosophy and Law and an insatiable desire to confound, baffle and disconcert my students. Someone once suggested to me the reason for my stories lay in the desire to offset the tedium and rationality of academic life. He wasn't an academic or he would have known better. It is best to use research against tedium, students to offset the rationality and an unlimited supply of stressballs for the faculty meetings. The stories? Well, they are just for me - like a mental manicure.

I also write a blog on Feminism and Erotica - come talk to me: 



Pre-order blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.


Sunday, August 7, 2016

Passion's Last Prmise


Out Now—Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4) by Christie Adams 

Blurb: 

Hers to protect…his to serve…

When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.

Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.

A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…

Buy links: 

Amazon
All Romance eBooks
iBooks
Kobo

Excerpt: 

“Problems, Miss Edwards?”

“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.

“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”

He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.

“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”

She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.

As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood that was oozing from a cut to her hand. Broken glass littered the worktop and the floor.

Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”

“It’s all right, I can manage.”

“No—you can’t. What happened?”

To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”

Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”

She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.

“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”

He quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”

“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.

For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.

She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.

Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.

Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.

Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Dr. Northwood.”

He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”

Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…

Author Bio: 

After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.

When she was asked about how she got into writing, Christie realized she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.

From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the erotic short story competition in a magazine. Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterization.