Showing posts with label Erotica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erotica. Show all posts

May 13, 2016

Teasers, Excerpt & Giveaway! Thin Lies, Donati Bloodlines #1 by Bethany-Kris


Calisto Donati

She was just a woman. That’s what Calisto wanted to tell himself; that’s what he wanted to believe. Emma was nothing more than a woman. There were other women for him to want. To obsess over.
It couldn’t be Emma Sorrento.
Not for Calisto.
She was taken.
She was claimed.
She was not his.
In a few days, Calisto would hand her off, and that would be that. He wondered why it wouldn’t be that easy to let her go. 
What good had saving her done?
He had simply taken her from one monster to give her to another.

Emma Sorrento

Emma slid on her mask. All someone would need to do was look close enough to see what was really beneath the sheer falseness of her smile.
At the other end of the table, Emma found her lies staring her right in the face.
He smirked.
And winked.
Calisto Donati was her worst mistake, her greatest shame, and the one thing she still wanted more than anything. Emma could still feel him all over her, long after his touch and kiss was gone. In thirty days, her entire world had changed—he had changed her.
Emma had a feeling that if she played another game with Calisto, she would surely lose.
She had already lost once.
Wasn’t it enough?

WARNING: The first two books in the Donati Bloodlines Trilogy end on a cliffhanger, and are not considered safe romance.





“It does hurt me,” Calisto said before he could stop himself. 

He wanted to take the words back immediately. 

Emma stilled in the passenger seat. “Then why play?” 

To remember. 

To punish himself. 

To apologize. 

“For a lot of different reasons,” Calisto settled on saying. “But tonight, I played so that you wouldn’t have to. You didn’t seem comfortable. I didn’t think you wanted to have everyone looking at you after what happened. It was a small sacrifice.” 

“But you hurt now,” she said, seeming confused. “Don’t you?” 

“But you didn’t have to.” 

For Calisto, that was all that mattered. 

Turning his head, Calisto stared out the opened driver’s window. He wondered if anyone had noticed that both he and Emma had left the dinner party without a goodbye. He supposed it didn’t make a difference. 

Calisto didn’t mind Emma’s presence disturbing his peace, either. 

“Calisto?” Emma asked softly. 

“Hmm?” 

Her hand rested on his thigh, and Calisto jerked in the seat at the innocent touch. The problem was, her touch couldn’t be innocent at all. Not with the way he currently felt, the things he had done, or the lines he had already crossed with a mighty “fuck you.” He hadn’t been expecting it, and he didn’t even hear Emma move in her seat. 

Calisto barely had the chance to spin around and face Emma again before her mouth pressed against his. It was soft at first, smooth like her plump lips, and then her fingers dug into his leg like she was demanding something from him. 

He didn’t know what it was. 

Instinctively, Calisto wanted to push her away. He wanted to kiss her back, too. The crazy side of his brain won, the side that listened to his selfish wants and not his needs. 

Or maybe he needed it, too. 

Calisto didn’t know. 

But he did grab onto Emma’s dress. He fisted the fabric around his taut knuckles, and pulled her a little closer. His tongue swept the seam of her lips, wanting more, needing to be deeper, seeking her heat and taste. 

A little wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Just a little more. 

Emma sighed a sweet sound, giving into his unspoken demand by parting her lips. Calisto took the offering for what it was, kissed her harder, and let his tongue war with hers until she was gasping for air. Pulling away enough to catch a breath, Emma tipped her head up and hummed. 

Calisto couldn’t help himself but lean forward and kiss her chin. 

He was fucking stupid. 

Why did she make him so stupid? 

“I should go in and say goodbye,” he heard Emma say. 

Calisto was too distracted by the flimsy fabric of her dress in his hands. A little pull with just enough strength and he knew that the dress would rip. She was close, and he could grab her around the waist before pulling her into the backseat. 

The windows were tinted. 

No one would see. 

A little more wouldn’t hurt. 





Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD



April 13, 2016

Teasers, Excerpt & Giveaway! Didn't I Warn You? ( Bad for You #1 ) by Amber Bardan



April 18th, 2016 (Digital), May 24th (Print)
Carina Press
April 18th, 2016 (Digital), May 1st 2016 (Print)
Harlequin Australia

Not everything dangerous is bad. 

From the moment Angelina laid eyes on him, she fell into a fantasy. Mysterious, foreign, gorgeous, Haithem offered her what she needed most—a chance to feel again.

But Haithem is much more than he appears to be. He lives in a world of danger where everything comes at a price.

For Angelina, that price is her future. 

He's made sure the life she's left behind is in tatters. Made her family believe she's dead. Still, he talks about protecting her, about keeping her safe, but she can't distinguish his truth from his lies. She can't separate her pleasure from his betrayal.

Haithem warned her. He told her he'd make her heart race, her body come alive and her most primal needs rush to the surface. His for the taking.

He didn't say she'd come to love the devil who's destroying her, even as he keeps her prisoner.




“I swear—you never existed. I never met you at all.”

His gaze flicked to my touch, and stuck there as though the touching of him was not something that was usually done. His expression shivered and whatever I thought I saw vanished. He rose to his feet. “I’m afraid a promise made under duress is no promise at all.”

“What do you mean, duress?” I leaped off the bed.

He strode for the door. Apparently, he thought our conversation was over. Pity—I wasn’t done. I followed him onto the deck.

Salty air swept hair across my face.

“It’s not as if you’ve threatened me, so I’m not under duress.”

He paused, pushed the notepad into his pocket and turned. “You think someone has to hold a gun to your head for you to be helpless?” His movements changed, went sharp yet somehow also slinky. He walked—not to me but around me. “I have all the power, all the say. And you—” he pointed his finger directly at me “—you, Angel, are a scared girl who wants to go home.”

His words whipped me like lashings from the wind. Painful, cutting lashes that made me want to cry. He stalked me, closing his circle just as surely as a shark. My veins spurted adrenaline, instinct compelling me to run.

But I didn’t run. That would break the dubious politeness he’d affected, and this small glimpse at what lay underneath was enough to shake the skin around me.

There was nowhere to run. He’d catch me, and—god help me—I might even enjoy it.

I might enjoy something so real and so raw as being caught, even if it hurt. No polite control. Nothing proper or respectable. Just real.

He walked and walked, round and around. My neck strained to keep up with him. I couldn’t drop my gaze, couldn’t let him out of my peripheral vision.

“You owe me nothing. I expect nothing from you. I trust no promises from you.” His voice softened, whispered around me from what felt like all directions. He stopped directly behind me, his hands coming down on my shoulders so I couldn’t turn. “But this doesn’t have to be a nightmare. It doesn’t have to be a trap or a prison.” He pulled me back against him, and suddenly his arms were around me and the beast was gone, replaced instead by a comforting protector.

My pulse jumped. How quickly he could change.

“This isn’t fair. For that, I owe you, and I always honor my debts.”

I’d slipped into hyperawareness—of the arm around my waist, the body at my back, the voice in my ear. I could almost see myself in his arms, standing like a waxwork, so still and glassy-eyed. Mesmerized.

“I saw your face when you told me you’re smothered so tightly you can’t breathe,” he whispered. “You could be free…” He brushed his cheek against my temple. “No one around. You could be yourself.”

He rocked me, so softly I almost missed the shift of my weight from one side to the other. I no longer knew if I was holding myself up.

“I can give you sunsets on the ocean. I can show you space so endless you’ll lose yourself.”

My hair caught on his bristles.

“Have you ever run down a deserted beach, Angel?” His hand moved on my belly. “Have you ever swum naked in salt water?” His voice penetrated my head, my blood, sinking down somewhere even deeper.

“Imagine three weeks where anything you ask will be indulged. All your demands met. Ask me for something—ask me for anything.”

My eyes closed.

“Do you need someone to hear you?” His word curled into my ear so gently, I felt the heat of his body in his breath. “I’ll listen to you talk for days.”

He touched my chest, pressed his palm flat against me.

I twitched.

“You can tell me what it is you keep buried in here. What you’re holding on to so tightly that you can’t let go. You can give it all to me, Angel. Just hand it all over to me…”

Air flooded my lungs, and I lunged out of his grasp. My heart beat so fast, I could imagine coronary damage taking place. I turned and faced him, backing out of reach.

Had I let him read me so thoroughly? Had I laid out my weakness so well that he could drive himself into my head and fuck me there?

Because that’s what he was doing—he was fucking my mind. I knew it. He knew it.

It was working






After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber Bardan finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fueled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge. 

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.



Can't Wait for Book Two...Pre-Order Now
DIDN'T YOU PROMISE




April 11, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Walker, Bad Boys of X-Ops #1 by Rie Warren


Spinning off from the two #1 bestselling Amazon series—Carolina Bad Boys and Bad Boys of Retribution MC, headliners in Erotica Humor, Thrillers, and Suspense—come more deliciously dangerous, scandalously sexy stories, a whole new level of hotness starting with Walker.

Explosives are Walker’s specialty, but he’s never handled anything as combustible as his enemy, Jade Huntington.

WALKER 
Goddammit. All I want to do is blow shit up. Is that too much to ask? But, no. What I get is mission frigging impossible in the middle of a Beirut hotbed. I’m the renegade of Operation T-Zone, but this time I swear I’m gonna do things by the book. That is, until Jade Huntington’s involvement in my op causes a brand new snafu. 

My tribal name means desperate warrior, and that’s exactly what I am for reasons I can’t outrun. And Jade? She’s personal enemy number one. An incredibly sexy one at that. But she’ll never find out just how desperate I am for her. 

JADE 
I’m not an assassin, even though I am badass. I’m a protector. Except when it comes to Walker. What I wouldn’t give to bore a bullet through his stubborn skull. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years, this time I’m determined to leave him in the dust after I shoot a few holes in him. 

We’re forced to work together when Walker practically kidnaps me and my package: the woman I’m guarding, the target he’s assigned to take out. 

Days on the run. Nights of enforced closeness. Fighting side by side. Ever-present danger ignites a desire I can’t control. But the endgame is so perilous Walker and I might not make it out alive. 

Four X-Ops alpha men. Four feisty wicked women. Four books you’ll want to sink your teeth into. Bad Boys of X-Ops.

Back to back, spring 2016!:
Walker
Justice
Storm
Bane



I relaxed my stance, lounging slightly back. “You know what I like to do when I need to expel some energy, Jade?” Her name came out buttery soft with a slight dare. 

My eyes lowered to the dangerous curves of her body and the atmosphere shifted again, compelling me closer to her sensual heat. 

Her gaze widened, the green of her irises drowning in darker depths. 

“What?” she asked, breathless and not backing down. 

“Fuck or fight. So what’s it gonna be?”

“Fight,” she declared.

I loped forward to the center of the room. “Here’s the deal, if I win, we fuck.”

“If I win, you’re dead.” She flashed a challenging grin at me, getting into combat stance.

“Bring it.” I curled my fingers in her direction. 

I usually didn’t hit chicks, but the truth was I couldn’t wait to get physical with thia woman anyway I could. 

We stalked briefly around one another, balancing on the balls of our bare feet, lunging and snaking away before any strikes landed on flesh. 

The heat in the room multiplied by a million degrees when Jade whipped off her hoodie, revealing a tight black tank top that showed off the sleek sinews of her arms and shoulders. 

My low wolf whistle seemed to really set her off. 

Surprise.

With a high shriek, she leaped across the air. Coming down, she planted her heel in my solar plexus. Before I could recoil her hand captured my braid, and she cuffed me across the face.

I thrust her away with my knee at her chest so she stumbled a few steps. 

“Nice move.” I swiped the blood from my mouth. 

“I learned it from watching you. You fight like a girl.” 

“And you got a big mouth. Hope you can back it up.”

Jade grunted, pouncing forward. I ducked the blow she aimed at my ribs then rose behind her. Cinching her wrists in my fist, I held her hands immobile at the base of her spine. 

I pulled her against me. Sweat drizzled between my chest and her back. The muscles in my arms and shoulders bunched with restraint.

Her ass moved almost imperceptibly against my steel-hard cock, and she gasped before growling.

Squeezing her fingers together into a tight funnel, she cranked her head back against my throat. She slipped free while I bent over, taking in deep draws of O2.

Whirling on me, Jade bit out, “Come on, baby. Hit me. You’re the one who suggested a fight.”

“Actually, I was angling for a fuck.” I reeled away from her incoming roundhouse kick before she made contact. “But what can I say? Lady’s choice.”

“Then you actually have to fight me to get it.” Her tits rose and fell with the harsh breaths in and out of her lungs. “Your rules.”

I growled and lowered down on my haunches, prowling in a circle around her. “That what it takes to get you going, Jade?”

“You don’t have what it takes.”




Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series. 
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around. 
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html


April 4, 2016

Excerpt, Teasers & Giveaway! Talk Dirty to Me, Devils PrideMC #2 by Jessie J.


As a secret agent for the DEA, Snake’s gone deep into Devils Pride MC with the hope of bringing down the head of Miami’s lucrative drug trade and finds himself saddled with the club’s volatile and secretive SA instead. Unfortunately, after years as partners doing shit neither of them wanted to do for reasons neither of them felt comfortable sharing, Snake considers Trick his best friend. Now he’ll do anything to repair the damage his own necessary lies did to their friendship because, while Trick may have walked away from the MC, Snake needs someone he trusts to have his back.

Meanwhile, Snake’s contact at the DEA has him tied up in knots. The sexy voice and inappropriate comments have him walking around with a permanent set of blue balls. Life undercover is lonely and he lives for every phone call, but his own personal Deep Throat is skittish about committing to a date once Snake returns to headquarters. As far as Snake’s concerned, they only have one shot to build something together and he’s not willing to waste it.

Greg knows he’s not Snake’s type, or anyone’s for that matter. Former love interests called him plain, chubby, and boring. More comfortable in his tech cave than with people, he’s a grade A nerd who isn’t exactly GQ material. Normally he would never be brave enough to flirt with anyone—much less the very hot and very dangerous ginger who’d been starring in his nightly fantasies—but Snake needed something to keep him from getting lost undercover. What started out as a helping hand quickly became an integral part of their relationship—if one could call a five year phone conversation a relationship—and Greg is terrified that once Snake’s sees the wizard behind the curtain, he’ll lose the only man he’s ever loved. 

Now the DEA has called Snake home to plan the next stage of the mission, leaving Greg no more places to hide. When fantasy and reality collide, will it be everything Snake hopes for or everything Greg fears? The trick will be staying alive long enough to figure out the answer.





Warning!! 18+

“That sexy voice and those incredible brains are a potent combination.” There was a sigh and a muffled groan, reminding Greg why they were talking at close to three in the morning. “Lucky for you, my ego’s big enough to handle the challenge.”

“Your ego or your dick?” Just saying it made his mouth water and he’d give anything to see it, touch it, taste it...

“Damn, Sunshine, you gonna groan like that when I’m shoving my big ego down your throat?” The rough dirty talk was more like the Gene he knew and loved.

Yeah, as hopeless as it was, there was no other word for the feelings that ran deep and true inside him. And it was hopeless. While not conventionally handsome, Gene was everything he could ever want in a man—tall, strong, rugged, smart, and deadly—and damn him for being a ginger to boot. The type of man who had no trouble finding a willing body to fuck. The type of man who would never look twice at an out of shape, curly-haired, glasses-wearing geek. But that was his secret and as long as Gene didn’t know exactly what he looked like, he was able to hold on to the fantasy for a little while longer.

“You know I will.” He was groaning again just thinking about getting his lips anywhere near Gene’s body. “I can feel you fisting my hair, holding me still while you make me take every inch.”

“Fuck yeah, I’d grab two fistfuls and fuck that dirty mouth the way it deserves,” Gene promised. “You want that, don’t you, Sunshine? To be manhandled until your throat is raw and your lips are swollen.”

Greg fisted his own aching cock, dragging his palm from balls to tip. What he wouldn’t give for that just once. “More than anything.”

“My dirty little Valentine.” Gene’s voice was ragged and full of satisfaction. “Get your toy, dirty boy, I’m dying to pound that tight ass until you’re screaming my name.”

There was no embarrassment as he reached for the long, thick vibrating dildo he’d already prepared in anticipation of this phone call. He wanted Gene too much to allow embarrassment to stop him from experiencing whatever he could with the man. “Tell me...tell me how you want me. On my back? On my knees?”

“On your back so I can see your face,” Gene purred and Greg felt his heart skip another beat. His dirtiest fantasies had nothing on phone sex with Gene. The real thing would probably kill him.




Like many readers, the dream of being a writer has been with me a long time. After three decades of trying, I'd begun to doubt. Thanks to social media, I followed my favorite authors hoping to glean some words of wisdom as I pounded out half-formed ideas with alarming regularity. Two repetitive themes emerged: to be a great writer you must read a lot and your butt must be in the chair every day like it's a job. The more you write, the easier it will be to write and the better you will be at writing. I took that advice to heart and write every day. With three series in the works and a full schedule of releases planned for the next two years, it's been amazing to have made this dream my reality. 

I am a firm believer in marriage equality, love at first sight, power dynamics, and happily ever after. I'm a lover of strong secondary characters, and series filled with families—biological or chosen. All are themes you'll find throughout my books.


March 31, 2016

In The Spotlight! Dominant Persuasions: Twelve tales of dominance and submission…where mastery meets passion.

Dom Persusions Cover

Dominant Persuasions: Twelve tales of dominance and submission…where mastery meets passion.

12 Scintillating tales of Dominance and submission as told by your favorite Amazon, NYT, & USA Today Bestselling Authors.

In a world of power plays, and safewords, only the strongest can find pleasure in submission. From strangers passing in the night, to lifetime loves that spark with new life; join us in the intriguing world of BDSM. No is not a safeword, and this deal is only available for a limited time!

Featured Novellas:

Submission Dance by Lori King

Out of Order by Bella Juarez

Surrender Her Inhibitions by Nicole Morgan

Make Believe Submissive by Daisy Philips

Under His Protection by Doris O’Connor

Broken by Julia Sykes

The Sub That Got Away by Amy J. Hawthorn

In His Hands by Raven McAllan

Indulge by Sherri Hayes

Submitting To Temptation by Jan Graham

Fire and Ice (An Excerpt from KNOTTED) by Juliet Braddock

Yes, Justin (Expanded Edition) by Michele Zurlo


Buy Links:







Juliet Braddock

 Fire and Ice by Juliet Braddock

What happens when a blizzard immobilizes Manhattan on Valentine’s Day…and a sassy little sub is stuck in her Dungeon with her beloved Dom? With candlelight and a roaring fire to keep them warm on this frigid afternoon, sparks fly between Maxine and Drew as he attempts to cool her down with a bit of tantalizing tenderness…

 Juliet Braddock 2


Louboutin heels in one hand and the silky little garment in her other, she made her way to the full-length mirror to slink into her Valentine's Day outfit. Once she'd pulled the panties on, the straps that crossed over her tummy were relatively easy to maneuver around. With bows fastened at the neck and hips, she felt like a giant Valentine's Day gift, all wrapped in crimson just for her Kind Sir.

Mustering her poise, she made her way back toward the tiny kitchen. However, just as she began to stir the chocolate sauce, the first of the three locks on the door turned.

Maxine stopped suddenly, frozen in time. She hadn't even picked up her clothes yet! Oh, Drew was going to be one Cranky Sir in about a minute.

Folding his hands together, he merely shook his head as he looked around.

“You know I don't like to punish you on holidays, Almost Mrs. Mack...”

Protest, and he'll do it! she thought to herself. “But the snow...and Zabar's was packed...and I wanted to...I just...” She noticed that her voice always seemed to rise an octave when they played.

“What the hell is going on here? This isn’t your bedroom back at the old townhouse, Maxine!” He kicked her bra and sent it scudding across the floor. Through his gruff, though, Maxine could see that smile of approval as he appraised her new little outfit. In his mind, Drew was already unwrapping those bows. “Now, I come here...expecting a little Valentine’s Day release with my fiancé. There's a mess on the floor. And dammit...she's not in position yet.”

Turning carefully in those damn shoes, Maxine rolled her shoulders back, the tassels swinging to and fro as she swiveled.

“But I...you...we have...”

“Uh-uh-uh!” Drew raised his hand as he crossed the room toward her. “Excuses are not accepted, and you should know that by now.”

In one swift move, he'd clasped her hands in his and held them above her head as he pinned her body against the cold stainless steel refrigerator. “Should I deny you on this frigid, snowy afternoon?”

Now was her chance to spill the beans and send her punishment into overdrive. “I can do that myself, Kind Sir,” she insisted. “Without touching myself.”

Raising a brow, his pride swelled. Such a perfect submissive was she.

“Oh, yeah, Sassypants?” he challenged as he pulled his hands away to pluck at her straps. “Show me...”

Maxine took one very slow, deep breath into her lungs. Wrapping her fingers around the refrigerator door handle, she opened her green eyes wide and held his gaze as he watched her. Already, she could feel her clit twitching beneath that damp wisp of satin that covered her, and her nipples throbbed against those little pasties.

“Uhhhhhhh...” she groaned.

However, Drew couldn't resist closing just a bit of distance between them, fearing she'd collapse and hurt herself as orgasm took hold. Placing a hand on each side of her, he was ready to catch her, just in case.

“Tell me what you're thinking right now, Maxine.”

“I'm thinking...ohh, I'm on my knees, Sir...”

“And what are you doing in your little fantasy?”

“Sucking you...sucking you off, Sir...and I'm... oh, fuck...!”

Without warning, she gripped his shoulder as she kicked her heel, scraping it against the hardwood floor. His face was so close, so intense, as she writhed before him but not against him. Drew hadn't laid a single finger on her, yet orgasm consumed her as her body just shook with the shocks of oblivion.

Drew's thoughts were likewise awhirl. Her sexual appetite knew no boundaries. Maxine’s need to please him—and to please herself—astounded him. Seeing her shuddering and screaming when all he'd done was simply walk in the door and give her a mild scolding nearly reduced him to ashes.

He fucking hated losing control with her, but he simply couldn't resist slipping his hands between them to rip away those two little hearts from her nipples. He dipped his head to bite down and pulled one swollen little bud between his teeth.

“So help me, Maxine, if I come in my fucking jeans...you're getting spanked until next Valentine's D—”

Reality, however, struck him suddenly like a lightning bolt to a tree.

Fuckballs…

The power went out.

Lori King 2

Submission Dance by Lori King

Marley Saltzman has a secret fantasy. She wants to let go of everything, and submit to a Dominant. Intrigued by her friends BDSM lifestyle, she convinces him to put her on the guest list for his monthly fetish party. She had no idea how far out of her element she would be until she came face to face with an experienced Dom.

Lex Gregory has been nursing heartache and raising his daughter alone for so long he barely remembers what a submissive feels like at his feet. When he meets Marley, he can’t believe that the naïve woman ever thought she could handle kink. All too quickly his need for her refreshing innocence and lack of preconceived notions grows, and he has to have her.

The two begin a subtle dance of sexual submission and wit that leads to a night of passion and unanswered questions. Will this dance end in heartache, or will they both find their darkest fantasies fulfilled?


There was a wicked glint in his eyes that did strange things to her body. Her heart was racing and her palms were as damp as her panties. She was almost afraid to stand up from her seat again for fear she might now have a damp spot on the back of her skirt.

“Would you like to dance, Marley?” Lex asked, rising from the low slung chair. The height of her own seat put her face almost dead even with his crotch, and there was a distinct bulge under his zipper that she found very intriguing, but he didn’t seem to notice her predicament.

“I’m really not much of a dancer…” She stammered for an excuse not to get closer to him. He was too magnetic and charming for her. She was almost afraid that if she let him pull her onto the sparsely populated dance floor, she would turn into putty in his hands and never find herself again.

“The music is slow, and I know what I’m doing. Trust me to lead, and you’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if he intended the double meaning behind his words or not, but her clit certainly heard it.

Holding out his hand, he waited for her to lay her palm against his and then he tugged her to her feet. She swayed slightly, and he steadied her with a hand on her lower back just above the curve of her ass. Immediately, she had to fight the urge to press herself against his long muscular body. Certainly he already thought her an easy mark after that steaming kiss; rubbing against him like a cat in heat wouldn’t help her circumstance.

He led her onto the dance floor without another word, and before she could turn to face him, he spun her around once, and then twice, so that her balance was off and she fell into him.

With an arrogant grin on his face, he wrapped his arms around her back, and steadied them on the curve of her spine, but within proper distance from her ass. “Better, now just relax and let me guide you. That’s right, sway with me. Dancing is like making love. It’s sensual, and there’s an exchange of power between every couple. You trust me to lead you in the right movements, and I trust you to follow me, but at any point you can walk away.” His hot breath whispered over her ear from above, and her cheek brushed the smooth silk of his shirt. “You have all the control, Marley.”

Lex continued to murmur instructions to her, softly seducing her with his body and his innuendos. Her breasts grew heavy and achy, and her nipples were diamond hard points that she knew were probably poking through the thin material covering them. She tipped her head back to look up into his deep blue eyes, and her knees grew weak at the intense lust burning there.

“Careful. If you slip I get to carry you off and say I swept you off your feet. That would make you my rightful prize to do with as I pleased for the night,” he whispered.

Marley snorted out a laugh, “Is that a party rule?”
“No, but everyone knows the black knight steals away the princess at her first ball and seduces her.”

Lori King

 

March 16, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Stuck on Rewind by Dianne Hartsock


Ashton has been in love with his best friend for years, watching him grow from a pretty high school boy to the gorgeous erotic dancer at the club where they both work. The problem is that Lance enjoys the attention of a variety of men while Ashton wants him for his very own.


After a day spent denying his attraction for Lance, standing by while their friend Trey openly flirts with him, Ashton decides it’s time to make his move or risk losing his man forever. Once Lance knows how he feels, he’ll realize they should be together. Or is it already too late?




“Fuck!” Ashton shouted in a mixture of anger and ecstasy as Lance swallowed again, then let Ashton’s softening cock slip from between his perfect lips. Ashton leaned on his elbows, his chest heaving while he caught his breath. With a last kiss on his thigh, Lance climbed off the bed, sleek-limbed and graceful, and walked to the dresser with a sassy sway of his hips.

Ashton stared after him and groaned, not sure if he wanted to pull his friend’s ass back into his arms or punch him in the face. It would be incredible to wake up with Lance every morning and make love to him. But he sternly reminded himself that they were only friends and Lance needed to stop climbing into his bed at night uninvited.

“You do remember you have a bed of your own?” he asked, more sharply than he’d intended.

Lance gave him a smirk over his shoulder, making a show of licking the last of Ashton’s spunk off his swollen lips. “You told me to wake you at seven.”

“I didn’t mean… Oh hell.” Ashton fell back on the pillows and threw an arm over his eyes. He swore in exasperation when the mattress dipped and Lance’s familiar scent surrounded him. “Damn it—”

Soft fingers touched his mouth. “Don’t be mad, baby. I didn’t mean anything.”

Ashton peered at him through the dark curls that had flopped into his eyes. The guy looked positively forlorn, and Ashton sat up, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’m not mad. But you don’t need to keep doing that, either. You’re my friend!” He kissed Lance’s cheek, the velvet skin warm with a blush. “You make a terrific roommate, and I like the company.”

“And I like you.” Lance walked his fingers up Ashton’s leg.

Ashton laughed and shooed the hand away, but couldn’t help staring at the enticing evidence of his friend’s arousal between his legs.

“Can I take care of that for you?”

“Not at all.” Lance stood up, waving off Ashton’s offer. “I’ll deal with it in the shower. You have to save your attentions for Mister Man.”

“Who are you talking about…? Wait!” Ashton rolled off the bed and trotted after Lance as he crossed the apartment.

Lance giggled, slipping behind the bathroom door but holding it cracked open an inch. He smiled at Ashton with his pouty, kissable lips. “You know, the boss. Mister Kent.”

“I’m not saving myself for—”

Ashton blinked at the closed door. Why in the world would Lance think he was interested in his boss? Sure, the man was handsome as sin, but he was also an egomaniac and tyrant. Why only yesterday, he’d…

Hot blood scorched Ashton’s neck and face, his arm tingling where Morgan Kent had gripped it, towering over him. The man had bent to his ear, swamping Ashton’s senses with subtle cologne and a hint of sweat as he’d whispered, “If you can’t type a simple letter without mistakes, I’ll find a secretary who can.” He’d tightened his hand almost painfully on Ashton’s arm. “Or maybe I should just bend you over this desk and smack your ass for each mistake?”

Ashton’s dick jumped at the memory. He told it sternly to behave. “We’re not falling for that bastard. We’ll stick with the sweet boys at the club and call it good.”



Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from. 

Dianne now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.