Book: Exotic Racing Crusader
Series: Exotic Racers #1
Author: JORDANA mia LEZAMY
Release Date: 1st April 2015
Genre: Contemporary, Erotica, New Adult, Romance
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Synopsis:
EXOTIC CARS MEET A LOVE STORY "NOTHING IN LIFE IS A COINCIDENCE" It was the day of a special occasion in my life, when my entire future was rewritten and set on a new course Or was this always part of destiny that I believed you cannot run from? My Destiny. Now Ours. Together. Exclusively. As I watched him at the show I never planned on attending â I was certain of one thing about his velocity: ONLY GOD is capable of catching him. The moment we met, there was no looking back on a past life down a darkened and lonely road any longer. Before him I had never dated anyone. Before him I lead a normal good-girl life. With him my plus size curves and unique facial features are loved and adored beyond a passionate and lustful extent Beside him I became queen to the messiah of an exotic cars racing universe I defied heaven for As fate would have it, regrets collected like old friends ready to relive both our darkest moments Itâs always darkest before the dawn, but to see the sunrise at the end of the finish line, there are SEVEN words of a pledge barricading the way: Oath Griffin Blood Hypersonic Racers Breakneck League Cauterized words onto his soul that will decide if he is either a villain or a savior The ultimate sacrifice must be made by him alone Which will he choose? Which will he let go of? Which means more? This is our journey This is where our racing legacy with fast cars begin. Contemporary, Erotica, New Adult, Romance : Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
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Amazon UK --> http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00U4AUXNA
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Author Bio
"You can't run from Destiny...All Roads Lead to the same destination." - I live by this self- made moto. I'm addicted to Italian Ice-Cream & Exotic Fast Cars *this will be made VERY clear in my book* My home is in the city of Lost Angels aka Los Angeles in the U.S.A I am plus size full figured girl and so is my leading lady in my debut novel. Single, 28 years of age, I am the middle sibling to an older brother and a younger sister. I am loud, funny and I have no shame in life. I only read dark themed novels or extreme alpha male storylines and I am addicted to music more than the average human should be. I cannot live without it especially 90's music. I first started writing at the age of 13 years old where I had won awards in school for my writing skills and original storylines. Such as the one in my debut series Exotic Racers: Exotic Racing Crusader + Exotic Racing Commander + Exotic Racing Conqueror all to be released in 2015.
Authors Links
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JordanaMLezamy
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Title: BIG LOVE ABROAD
(Big Girls Do It #7)
Author: Jasinda Wilder
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I was finally fulfilling my life-long dream of studying at Oxford University in England. I had a thesis. I had an apartment. The one thing I didn’t have was time for a man. Especially not one as sexy and intriguing and distracting as Ian Stirling. Okay, I mean, maybe I did have a little time for a man. After all, it’s not every day a ripped British sex-god sweeps you off your feet and does dirty, delicious things to you.
Again and again. And again.
For days.
The problem is, Ian was just supposed to be a hunky distraction, but now my heart is craving him like my mouth craves cupcakes.
Big Girls/Rock Stars Do It series reading order:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jasinda Wilder is a Michigan native with a penchant for titillating tales about sexy men and strong women. When she’s not writing, she’s probably shopping, baking, or reading.
Some of her favorite authors include Nora Roberts, JR Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Liliana Hart and Bella Andre.
She loves to travel and some of her favorite vacations spots are Las Vegas, New York City and Toledo, Ohio.
You can often find Jasinda drinking sweet red wine with frozen berries and eating a cupcake.
Jasinda is represented by Kristin Nelson of the Nelson Literary Agency.
THE WILD SIDE
(The Complete Trilogy) Author: R.K. Lilley
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Alasdair Masters is in a rut. He just hit forty, has been nearly celibate for the past year, and his life has turned into a daily sequence of lonely patterns that revolve around avoiding human contact.
His tidy life is turned on its head when a hot young blonde at the gym that’s been pseudo-stalking him decides to rock his world. A very young blonde. Way, way too young for him. The problem is, he can’t seem to tell her no, and she just keeps coming back for more.
It doesn’t help that he’s ninety percent sure she’s a criminal, and still, he can’t seem to turn her down. What is a dull introvert to do when a chaotic cyclone that oozes sexuality comes twisting into his life?
At first, he thinks she’ll give him a heart attack, but after his twenty-year marriage ended a year ago, he’s been a little lost, and when she comes crashing into his life, he realizes that he’s never felt more alive.
Is a walk on the wild side just what he needs to get his on track or a disaster in the making? Is it possible for someone that much younger to be just what he needs, or is she a fortune hunter, as everyone keeps telling him? Is it his hormones telling him that the mysterious younger woman is the one, or could it be more?
Who is Iris? Where did she come from? Where has she gone?
Alasdair Masters has more questions than answers about his new, too young obsession, and when he finds out she’s been lying to him, from their first meeting to their last one, he’s more confused than ever about her feelings, her intentions.
And what’s just as confusing are his own feelings. Has he turned something purely physical into something emotional in his own head? Is any of it mutual?
The only thing he doesn’t question is whether he’ll keep going back for more.
DAIR
Me, I was simple. I was order. A very neat, efficient machine that ran on nothing but air.
Me plus anyone else, well, that was another matter. And me plus Iris, that was a monster of a machine, with all gears going at different speeds, some spinning off their hinges, just going mad, but it was a wonderful madness, at full throttle, misfiring in all directions.
It felt wonderful and dreadful.
I was breaking down, and it felt amazing.
And terrifying.
This book is intended for readers 18 and up
Dair (The Wild Side #3)
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ARE YOU READY FOR THE TRUTH?
I’d started writing everything about her down. I didn’t want to forget.
The color of her hair. The depth of her eyes. The stubborn shape of her jaw. The way her lips shaped words with such expression. The way her voice made my chest ache. The way she gave advice beyond her years.
The way she listened like she cared about every word.
The way she made me feel—Alive.
Every curve and hollow of her body was recorded, in my mind, and now my hard drive.
There was a bit of truth in every lie, and even if it had only been fed to me in the smallest increments, I wanted, needed to remember the real Iris.
Because in the end, there was one irrefutable thing that I couldn’t deny.
Hostage or hustler, sinner or saint, whatever she was or wasn’t, whether she lied to my face or taunted me with hints of the truth, all of this seemed always to defer to the more pertinent fact at hand.
She was mine.
Inconceivably.
Undeniably.
Mine.
After yet another shocking discovery, followed by a disturbing letter, Dair is almost certain Iris has left his life for good. He tries his best to move on.
Easier said than done, and when an unexpected and dangerous opportunity arises for him to find out what happened to her, he doesn’t hesitate to take it.
As usual, with Iris, the answer leaves him more lost than the question.
Every revelation is shrouded in mystery, and every disclosure leaves Dair more in the dark than ever.
And when finally, the messy truth is revealed in its entirety, will he be ready for it?
This is the final installment in Iris and Dair’s story
This book is intended for readers 18 and up.
DAIR
TWO MONTHS AFTER THE FALLING OUT
I had a bit of a nervous breakdown after Iris left without a trace.
It was the strangest thing, but I suddenly didn’t like my own company so much.
In fact, I began to hate it, even at home.
I still went to the gym at the exact same time, every single day, in the small hope that she’d show again. She didn’t, but I kept going, because I wanted to see her again.
She hadn’t been in my life for long, but I missed her.
Being that I couldn’t stand my own company, I began to reconnect with old friends, people I hadn’t talked to since the divorce, the friends I’d chalked up to losses in the breakup; Tammy’s assets when we’d been chopping our combined life in half.
For some reason, they all seemed very happy to hear from me. I felt like a jerk for going into full hermit mode and attempted to have something of a social life again.
I’d often meet up with another writer friend for coffee or lunch after my workout, telling myself that if I just kept working at it—being a normal person, with normal social habits—it wouldn’t feel so forced.
And it was true. Two months post Iris, and I was looking forward to having coffee with my friend, Benji.
He was already sitting at a table as I entered the café a few shops down from my gym.
I waved at him, saw he had an extra coffee for me, and bypassed the line to go directly to him.
He slid me the cup as I sat down.
“You make your deadline?” I asked him. Like me, he was a neurotic, work obsessed writer, and so we always had something to talk about. It was good. Distractions were good. The more the better. The more plates spinning the better, these days.
He nodded with a grin, pushing his thick glasses up high on his nose, and sweeping his light brown hair away from his face. He was a good seven years my junior, with a lean, nerdy look that I thought suited him. He wore it well. “How about you? I know you were early on your publisher’s deadline, but how is your indie project coming along?”
“Good. Good. My word count is flowing faster than ever. I should be done in about four weeks.”
He whistled. “Will you sell it to the publisher, if they decide they like it and make you a good offer?”
I shrugged. “I doubt it. This whole project is an experiment for me. It won’t be much fun if I don’t get to at least see how making seventy percent compares to making, yanno, eight.”
He shook his head, smiling wryly. “You’re forgetting your advance. You can’t tell me they don’t give you plenty up front.”
I shrugged again. “Like I said, this one is an experiment. I doubt even my publisher can sway me, and it’s not exactly written in the genre I’m known for, so they wouldn’t write me a big check for it, anyway.”
“You’re probably right.” He sighed. “I envy you the flexibility to do what you want. Some of us are still writing just to pay the bills.”
We sipped coffee and talked shop for a bit. We were just getting ready to leave when he suddenly trailed off mid-sentence, looking at something behind me.
I turned to see what it was, and an electric fire went off in my brain at the sight that met my eyes.
Setting my jaw hard, I turned carefully away.
So the back of that blonde woman in line resembled Iris, so what?
This wasn’t the first time my brain had tricked me into thinking she was somewhere close.
But it was never her. I’d see some young blonde thing out of the corner of my eye and turn to stare until I met a stranger’s blank stare.
Not today. Today I was going to ignore the urge to obsess. It wasn’t her, just some young woman with a great body. She wasn’t even dressed correctly, wearing a pleated skirt and a belted, collared blouse.
Iris wouldn’t be caught dead in business attire.
“Holy fucking shit, man. Did you see that chick?” Benji asked, his tone reverent.
My mouth quirked up in a rueful smile. Even the most civilized men turned into mouth-breathers if a hot enough woman walked into the room.
“I did.” I took a long sip of coffee, watching Benji, who just kept watching the woman in line, forcing myself, with great effort, to stifle the urge to turn around again. “Nice ass,” I noted.
“Yes. But you need to turn around and check out the rest of her. Huge titties, man.”
I rolled my eyes. There was a bit of a generation gap between us. My generation thought shit like that, but then we kept it to ourselves, like grown-ups.
“Big soft tits,” he continued, “in a semi-sheer white blouse. Fuuuck. She’s got a tan. How many articles you think I need to write to bang a chick that out of my league?”
“A lot,” I mused, still staying firmly with my back to the woman in question.
“Like how many is a lot?”
“What do you make? Like five hundred an article? I’d say about two thousand of those, minimum. If she’s as hot as she looked from the back, though, you’d need to be well into the millionaire club before she’d give you the time of day, so more like five thousand articles, realistically.”
His eyes were wide as he finally looked away from the hot chick and back to me. “Really? That is fucking depressing, dude.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. But the really sad part is you’d have to spend a good chunk of that cash on her, if you wanted her to stay around for any length of time.”
He shook his head. “I think you’ve gone cynical, after Tammy.”
I couldn’t dispute that. Not a bit. “You may be right. What can I say? Divorce messes with your head.” I didn’t bring up Iris. I hadn’t told him about her. “Why don’t you go ask her out, if you’re so certain I’m wrong?”
He laughed. “I didn’t say you were wrong, I said you were cynical, and so am I. That chick is out of my league, period. I need more money to bag a woman like that. Or at the very least, better looks and a bigger dick. And look at that, fuck, she’s already leaving. I was hoping she’d sit down to drink her coffee, and let me look at her for a few more minutes.”
“Maybe you were creeping her out. You’ve barely taken your eyes off her since she walked in the door.”
He didn’t even seem to hear me. “Oh, no, wait, she’s only going to the bathroom. I thought it was weird she was leaving without her order. Did you see her shoes, man? Those are some ‘fuck-me’ stilettos. And her hair is in this tight bun, and she’s wearing sexy librarian glasses. Will you please turn and look when she comes back out? I will drop the subject if you will just get a better view of her and agree with me that she’s a ten.”
“Nope. Not doing it. That poor girl does not need us both creeping out on her. I’ll take your word for it.”
That seemed to settle the matter. He dropped it.
His phone rang; he checked the screen and started cursing. “I’ve got to run. Same time next week?”
I nodded, and he left. I didn’t move and still didn’t turn around. I had that feeling, a tingle on my neck, like I was being watched from behind, and I was again talking myself out of obsessing about Iris.
But burned in my brain was the image of the back of that woman, and in spite of myself, I was comparing.
And a small part of me was enjoying the torture of imagining it could be her, that she would find me again.
Finally, I cracked, turning to look, thinking that the woman must have left, so I should just get it over with, like pulling off a Band-Aid.
And there she was.
There was Iris, standing only feet away, holding a cup of coffee and watching me, her expression very blank. She was wearing sexy librarian glasses, her hair in a tight bun, just like Benji had said.
And it really was her, in the flesh.
She wore white, and her clothes were fitted enough to show off every lush curve. Her mouthwatering breasts were clearly outlined, the buttons of her blouse open enough to show an extravagant amount of cleavage.
How had I forgotten just how stunning she was? How captivating?
Her large breasts were even more exceptional than I remembered, as though I’d dreamt her up as a comic book version of herself.
Iris squared.
The moment our eyes met, she began to move, walking with easy grace to sit across from me.
She looked cold, so icy blonde and beautiful, like some mix of Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly.
Terrible and beautiful.
It felt like fatal voltage to my chest just to look at her like that.
It was Iris, but Iris as a stranger. No, it was worse than that. It was like she was a curious, wild, imaginary creature, with the pieces of her just now put together, invented for my eyes, not how I remembered at all, because even when she’d been angry, she had never been cold.
Then she smiled, and it was her again, all traces of the cold stranger gone.
Which one was the real Iris?
“Hello, Dair.”
I swallowed hard and saw her eyes dart to my throat.
“Hello, Iris.”
“God, I missed the sound of your voice.”
“The sound of my voice?” My voice caught on the question awkwardly, breaking slightly on the last word.
She had such a talent for catching me off guard.
“Yes. You have the best voice, like a stern school teacher.”
My brain short-circuited for a bit before I could respond. “You say the most outrageous things.”
She laughed, and its tinkling sound felt like velvet across the back of my neck. “Is that all you have to say to me, after all this time?” she asked quietly.
“I’m sorry for all the things—”
“I don’t want you to take those things back, if you still believe them, and besides, that’s not what I meant. Don’t you have anything else to say to me?”
I took a few deep breaths. “Where have you been? And why are you back now?”
“That’s not what I meant, either. And I don’t want to talk about that. Didn’t you miss me?”
She reached a hand across the table, and I found one of mine grasping it, lacing our fingers tightly together.
My eyes squeezed shut. It felt very good to touch her again, even just her hand. “Yes, Iris, I missed you very much.”
“There you go. Was that so hard? I missed you, too. You look good.” She tugged her hand away, and my eyes opened to follow its retreat.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
She looked like she was trying not to smile. “Like what?”
“Like a professional. Why are you wearing glasses? What are you doing? Where did you go? Where have you been?”
She glanced around, and the way she did it struck me as more than a little paranoid. “Want to go for a walk?”
My heart started pounding hard.
I didn’t hesitate.
“Of course I do,” I said, absolutely no thought required.
I’d take a walk with her anytime, anywhere.
She smiled, taking off those sexy glasses. “Well, then, let’s get out of here.”
R.K. Lilley lives in Colorado with her husband and their two beautiful sons. She's had a lot of interesting jobs, from being a first class flight attendant, to being a stablehand, but swears she never knew what hard work was until she had children. She's been addicted to both reading and writing fiction since she can remember. She loves to travel, read, hike, paint, game, watch anime, and make the most of every single day. She is the author of the erotic romance novels In Flight, Mile High, Grounded, and the novella, Lana.
Title: Love M.D. Author: Rebecca Rohman Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance with Elements of Suspense Release Date: Tuesday, February 24, 2015 ★ LOVE M.D. As an accomplished interior designer in San Francisco’s Bay Area, Zoe Jenkins is used to transforming empty spaces into masterpieces. She leaves little square footage in her personal life for anything outside of her thriving business and a renewed relationship with her twin brother. After a decade spent ripped apart by circumstance and an entire ocean’s distance she depends on no one but him. Until a sexy surgeon walks into her life. Although Zoe can’t deny her attraction to the charming and benevolent Morgan Drake, he’s on her mental list of everything she should avoid. Past experience taught Zoe that dating clients compromises business. Add a not-yet- dissolved marriage to the mix and Doctor Hottie is definitely Doctor Off-limits. Dr. Morgan Drake is surprised at the undeniable chemistry he feels when he’s in the same room as Zoe. The strikingly beautiful and introverted designer he hired to fill his new-start, new-city home makes it abundantly clear there will never be anything between them. But twelve years of medical school breeds persistence. He sets out to pursue the pants off Zoe Jenkins and show her what her empty spaces are missing. But intense passion and amazing sex have a way of masking secrets—secrets that unravel a dangerous web of drugs, fraud and corruption that turn Zoe’s empty, quiet spaces into a world where nothing is as it seems. With her life on the line, the good doctor responsible for her fiercest betrayal might just be the only one worthy of her finest interior masterpiece—this time, of her heart. ★ ABOUT THE AUTHOR Rebecca Rohman, is a wife and designer currently living in the Northeastern United States. She was a former Sales Manager for a tourist magazine, and for many years prior, she first did Marketing for a jewelry company, and later a fine wine distributor. About fifteen years ago, she started writing her first romance novel, Uncorked just to purely entertain herself. It was not until early in 2012 when she decided to complete it, and share it with the world. The story was published in February of 2013. Her second novel Love, Lies & The D.A. was released in February, 2014. Love M.D. is her third novel. ★ MY REVIEW ★★★★★ Please include your review here ★ EXCERPT The next morning, I wake to an empty bed. I slip on some panties and one of Morgan’s shirts and head downstairs in search of him. Peaches and Pixie bask in the sun by the pool, watching him as he swims. He’s already made a pot of coffee, so I pour myself a cup and sit outside on one of the Adirondack chairs facing the pool. My crew comes to greet me, but Morgan is engrossed in his swimming and does not appear to notice me. I suspect this might be part of his daily routine—his body contours tell me that. He looks up, and a broad smile stretches across his face when he sees me. His hair lies all back as he propels his body out of the water by his palms. “Good Morning,” I say. “Good morning to you, too.” He kisses me and wraps a nearby towel around his hips. “Hungry? I was going to make you some breakfast.” “Maybe a little,” I respond. “Good, because I prepared everything already,” he says, stretching out his hands to help me up. “I just need to fix the eggs.” In the kitchen, as he scrambles eggs on the stovetop, I circle my arms around his almost naked body from behind. He switches off the stove and turns to face me. “Did you sleep well?” “A little. It was more than the last few weeks, so I guess that’s a step in the right direction.” He raises my body and places me on the island, pecking me softly on the lips. “I could prescribe something to help you get some rest, or I can recommend something herbal. You hardly sleep anymore.” “I know. Maybe in a few days if things don’t improve.” “Let’s go on a trip somewhere. It’ll take your mind off things.” “We’ll see. Jada invited us to go on a getaway with their family. I don’t know the specifics yet, but I think it might be a good idea.” “Let me know as soon as you have the details so I can make sure my shifts are covered. It’s easier to change things around at the clinic. I want to see you smile again.” He kisses me softly on my neck and my lips, and I’m surprised when I feel the need for more than just his sweet caress. Circling him in my arms, I slowly part my lips, and feel his tongue gently graze mine. I pull him closer by the towel that surrounds his hips and slip my hands over his groin. “I miss you,” I whisper. “I miss you too, baby.” I’ve woken him and as I massage his arousal, I take pleasure at the feel of his hands roaming over my body. He lifts his shirt over my head before slipping his tongue into my mouth. I pull the towel away and push his trunks down as far as I can stretch. With my foot, I shove them further until they drop to the floor. He kicks them away while I glide my hands over his rock-hard erection. “How do you want it?” he asks. “Go down on me,” I reply, deepening our kiss. “Then I want you to screw me from behind.” He places one of my legs on the countertop and slips the fabric of my thong to the side. I welcome the feel of his fingers slipping between my folds as he circles them above and inside me. As he devours my lips, I relish the feel of his firm body against my palms. He lowers his head, planting soft kisses on my neck, then he circles my breasts. Moments later, he pulls my panties away. He lowers his head and teases me with kisses circling my core. With his tongue, he starts a pleasurable onslaught of licking and sucking my clit, intermittently and forcefully moving his fingers over me. The heat rises between my thighs but I pull away, reserving my release. “Oh God, babe. I need you inside me.” He pulls me off the counter and turns me around so my back is to his front. He places one of my thighs on the surface, pinning it in place with his arm then he slowly enters me from behind. Slowly, slowly moving in and out of me. “Zoë, you feel incredible,” he whispers, nibbling my ear. With his fingers, he begins an endless assault on my front. “Oh Jesus, Morgan…harder,” I cry as my body becomes submerged in pure sexual pleasure. Bending me over the counter, he gives me what I crave, what I so desperately desire. “Oh yes, Morgan.” My knees go weak. I know I’m close to losing all control. “No way, not yet,” he says, slipping out of me. Holding my hand, he walks me to the living room sofa. He sits, centering his body in the middle, leaning back. I’m about to straddle him when he stops me. “Come here, baby. I want to taste you all over again.” He raises my leg above his shoulder, and places it on the back of the couch. He sits up, and with two fingers, repeatedly penetrates me and unleashes his tongue over me again. Tingling sensations exude through my thighs. “Oh God, yes, babe.” I tighten my grip on his hair, basking in the pleasure that he is so eager to give me. Finally, he relents, and I lower my body over his erection. I move slowly and sensually over his arousal, grinding my hips into his. He sits up and clasps his hands in mine as I rotate my body over his. Sounds of raw sex fills the room—the continuous sounds of his reentry, the sexual cries that escape my lips, his labored breathing and groans as I bury him inside me. “Yes, Zoë, yes,” he says, holding me by my hips, slamming me firmly above him and taking over my lips once more. Sitting back, I repeatedly pound my hips into his, while circling my core with my fingers. “Oh fuck, Zoë,” he shouts then pulls me close in his arms, boring inside me. I feel him continuously spasm, and as I rapidly continue to circle my pleats, I join him in his prolonged release. I lay with my head against his chest, breathing heavily. We relax while he folds me in his arms and kisses me tenderly on my lips. I can’t help but get distracted and erupt in laughter when Peaches sits watching me, slowly twisting her head as if she’s utterly confused. “What’s so funny?” “We have an audience,” I laugh. Now Pixie has joined her, too. He sits up, “What? They never saw you have sex before?” “No, they’re virgins. We’re corrupting my poor animals.” “That must have been quite the show.” I coil on top of him, and it is while I’m there that I realize today, for the first time in almost three weeks, I laughed. “I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” I kiss him again. I don’t want to think about why I’ve not been able to laugh. ★ LOVE M.D. SOUNDTRACK
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Life after marriage was everything that William “Devil” Delancy was all that he wanted it to be and more. That was, until his sweet, amazing (and slightly scary!) wife Molly decided to do the impossible -- arrange the wedding of his drama queen assistant!
The question soon becomes...will the always-in-control Devil lose Molly to the wedding plans that are quickly falling apart, or will he be able to pull out all of the scorching sexual charms he’s known for and bring her back to the dark side?
Romantic erotica comedy at its best! New Release...ONLY 99 pennies for a limited time! 42K words - sequel to Sizzle, but also is a STANDALONE!
Moaning as Devil palmed one warm globe and lifted it to his mouth, Molly watched him envelope her nipple, twirling his tongue around the hardened peak and watching as it drew even tighter. “God!” she gasped as he delivered the same treatment to the opposite breast, “I love it when you do that.”
“Tits like these deserve to be worshiped, darlin’. And believe me, I could kneel at this altar all night, but you’ve got so many more curves that I want to explore,” Devil rumbled in his velvety voice as he rained kisses over the upper curves of her breasts.
Molly felt like she was being both bathed in pleasure and showered by bliss as Devil traveled the hills and valleys of her body, exploring every inch of flesh with his damp lips. He paused every once in a while to lavish attention on certain locales, but mostly his mouth remained on the move, content to map her body with gentle touches of his lips. It was slow and sensual, and everything a woman could ask for in a lover.
Her legs moved restlessly against his as he reached the curve of her belly and hunger unlike anything she’d experienced before began to claw at her as Devil’s soft lips lingered over her belly button, his devilish tongue flicking that ticklish spot playfully. Writhing underneath her husband’s marauding lips, Molly giggled as her fingers speared Devil’s hair. “Stop that!” she gasped, twisting underneath him as their legs tangled together.
“Tell me I’m a sex god, then,” Devil demanded, flicking her belly button again and pulling a high pitched squeal from his wife.
“Are you crazy? I will not!” Molly laughed, attempting to turn away from him onto her belly.
Holding Molly flat on her back with one splayed palm against her torso, Devil grinned against her skin. “Say it,” he demanded, moving his mouth lower, his breath teasing against her sensitive folds. “Say it or you earn a punishment,” he warned teasingly, lifting his head long enough to give his wife a roguish grin.
Molly’s eyes lit up at his not-so-scary threat. Licking her lips slowly as her body undulated beneath his, she shook her head. “No,” she clipped tartly, privately knowing that his ‘punishment’ would deliver nothing but the most sinful pleasure.
“No, huh?” Devil drawled, one eyebrow arching as he considered his wife beneath him. “Is my Molly feeling sassy tonight?” he asked, popping his open palm against her neatly trimmed pussy. Hearing her low moan, Devil grinned again. “Tell me, baby, am I going to need to fuck that sass right out of you?”
Molly offered her husband a sexy smile and cocked her head on the pillow as she stared up at him and said the three words guaranteed to drive him wild. “If you can.”
Sarah O'Rourke is the alter ego of two best friends who bonded over their passion for romantic fiction and erotica. Born and raised in the southern United States, one lives near Ft. Campbell, Kentucky, while the other resides in Atlanta, Georgia. Formerly an accountant and a chemist, they are now overworked, stay-at-home moms who adore their children, their husbands...and writing about love in every way possible.
Inspired by their dog-eared copies of Gone with the Wind and their almost warped DVDs of Steel Magnolias, they love to write wildly intense romantic/erotica stories that have multiple characters, but they focus on one couple that will ALWAYS have a happy ending…eventually!
Why You Should Treat Yourself to Lingerie
Recently a dear friend of mine made fun of a lingerie catalogue I had lying around. She let out a big sigh and said, “Ugh. They want us to dress up, too?” I laughed, relating to her palpable exhaustion. It was the first time she opened up to me about her sex life. A mother of three, my friend has been married for over twenty years to the man with whom she lost her virginity. “Have you never gone lingerie shopping?” I asked, admittedly shocked. She shook her head. “Nope. I’m all about the cotton underwear from Costco.” Again, I laughed. I have those too! She told me about how she sleeps in her husband’s old raggedy worn-out tennis shirts. I really love my friend, and no doubt her husband does, too. She’s funny and charming and honest. But she’s not getting any action. My own experience has taught me that buying lingerie is more of a personal indulgence than a gift for someone special. It’s a way to see yourself and if you do it right it can prompt a better sex life. Feeling sexy starts within after all. It’s a state of mind. To me, there’s something about the whole process of going into a store to buy something frilly and frivolous that is not going to be seen by anyone except yourself and your lover(s). There is nothing necessary or useful about it. It is the equivalent of buying jewelry to wear in secret or purses and hats just for around the house. It’s decadent and extravagant and it makes me feel rich, even though I am not. Additionally, there is the delight of trying stuff on, and of seeing yourself as an object of desire. Lingerie is very personal because it speaks a certain language. Just as wearing sweatpants and t-shirts (also awesome, but in a different way) sends a certain message, so does that lacy camisole or those latex gloves. When I go into the lingerie shop, I open myself up to seeing myself in a new way and that’s what’s fun about it. I stretch my imagination and try out something I consider truly naughty and scandalous. Even just seeing myself in the change room gets me excited. By the time I bust it out with the person I’m with, look out. It’s the thrill of self-objectifying, of having fun and playing dress up, of taking on a surprising fantastical element. It’s sexy. I wrote about the experience to remind myself and my readers that sometimes we deserve a frilly treat. In Worth the Wait, Monique goes shopping with her friend Claudia, here is a cheeky excerpt about the lingerie shopping experience! I pulled off my shirt quickly and Susan the shop girl turned me so I was facing the mirror. She put her arms around me and fit the corset to my front. Then, working expertly behind me, she started to do it up. It was silky smooth and deep dark purple. There was a charcoal trim that went all around the top and down in form-fitting lines. The ties were the same charcoal color, wide and silky, so that the wearer looked gift-wrapped. I wanted to look gift-wrapped for Jerome, wanted to offer myself to him. When Susan was finished, she checked my out in the mirror. “Oh, Monique,” she gasped. “You’re stunning. It fits you perfectly, like it was made for you.” “Claudia!” I called her in. “What do you think?” I asked when she poked her head through the curtain’s opening. “Hubba hubba,” she said. “I mean, if I were Jerome, I think I’d faint.” “I have to have it,” I said. It was true. My mind was made up before I even saw it on myself. When I looked in the mirror, even I couldn’t resist myself. I don’t recall anything making me look or feel sexier than this. Blurb for Worth the Wait: Monique Mackenzie has it all. The only thing missing is the one thing she doesn’t know she can get—her boss. Sassy and glamorous, Monique Mackenzie has everything a modern woman could want—great career, fabulous home, wardrobe and friends. Men throw themselves at her constantly, but after years of meaningless flings, the charm has worn off. The one man who truly ignites her passion is the only man she can’t have—her boss, Jerome Fontaine. Mysterious Jerome drops clues that he sees her, too, but he seems to have a secret life outside the office. He remains elusive until Monique accidentally stumbles upon his secrets and discovers the reasons for his stoic behavior. As the fiercely private Jerome begins to trust Monique, Monique’s world is turned upside down as she figures out what she truly wants out of life. Jerome’s presence makes her question everything from her ambitions to her erotic tastes, and in falling for him she must face her own demons. Just when she thinks she’s got it all figured out, Monique finds herself challenged in ways she never imagined, though the one thing she knows for certain is that she has never loved anyone as much as she loves Jerome. Reader Advisory: This book contains characters who appear in All I Ever Wanted, also by Destiny Moon. Like the sound of Worth the Wait? Buy it here. About Destiny Moon: Romance heroines have saved my sanity numerous times through break-ups and life changes. I find escaping into a romance both soothing and revitalizing—and even better when there are some steamy scenes to tantalize the imagination. For most of my adult life, I’ve concentrated on carving out a serious career, but a number of love-hungry, sassy characters keep taking over my mind, insisting that I daydream, live vicariously through them and tell their stories. Watching these women emerge on the page gives me a different sort of satisfaction than I get from my day job. It is a joy to share them with readers. I live in a tiny apartment in a crowded city and I like to think there is something romantic about this. I did manage to find my soul mate here. Enter Totally Bound’s April blog tour competition for the chance to win any eBook of your choice, not including boxsets or anthologies.
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Are you ready for the ultimate tale of survival?
SAVAGE IS NOW AVAILABLE! Amazon US: Amazon UK: Barnes & Noble: Kobo: iBooks:
Blurb
Kill or Die Nina Hardwick has had a rough life since leaving high school, but inside she is still the girl looking for a silver lining. The past several years have left their toll on her psyche, and just as she feels like she’s climbing out of a deep abyss, her life and the lives of millions of others fall into shambles as a virus overtakes the country and leaves a plague of undead armies scouring the land. In a desperate attempt to get away from the infected, Nina and some neighbors speed out of town, nearly killing a man on a motorcycle. When they stop to rescue him, Nina realizes that he is the one man from her past she never got over, the guy who should have been her high school sweetheart until she messed it up. But this unrequited love, Kevin Savage, says he doesn’t even remember her. Or does he? Nina, Kevin, and her neighbors head to the wilderness and fight to survive not only the plague but also hunger, cold, their inner demons…and even each other. Will they survive and, more importantly, will her heart?
Excerpt #1
I lay in Kevin’s arms for longer than I could calculate, staring out the window and watching as the sky grew darker. Part of me wished we could stay like this forever, in this place the world seemed to have forgotten about, away from everything bad and horrible and dark. That might have been nice, but there was still the question of my kids…and the rest of my family. I needed to know they were all right, had to find out where they were. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to do that or when, but I needed to. Up against my body, he felt strong where I felt weak, warm where I could only sense cold. He had become to me everything I always knew he was, and the realization that I had fallen in love with him again struck me hard. It had been an easy slide, one I hadn’t even known I was on until my feet were back on the ground. I decided there, in his arms, that I wasn’t going to fight it. But I also wasn’t going to acknowledge it. After our weird past as teens, I didn’t know what to expect from him in the aftermath. I only knew this moment, and I was going to cherish it, hold it tightly in my heart like I might clench a locket in my fist, and then I was going to let tomorrow bring what it would. I would leave this room with no expectations, no hope. It was something I’d grown pretty good at over the years. As if he could read my mind, he said, “We should probably head back.” “Yeah, I was thinking that. I think a storm’s moving in, don’t you?” I turned around in his arms. Part of me didn’t want to. I was sad—profoundly—but felt like I shouldn’t be drowning in that emotion. I didn’t want to give away anything in my head. His voice was soft when he said, “Yeah, I think so, so we shouldn’t screw around.” I smiled in spite of myself. “A little late.” He grinned too, and I imagined that he was feeling inside the same way I was but also wanted to try to put on a happy face. But he pulled me close and kissed me tenderly. He didn’t say anything, though, even after his lips left mine. I wanted to acknowledge the significance of his earlier revelation, even though part of me was afraid to go there, so afraid of what the truth was. But I had to know. “Do you really remember me…or were you just saying that?”
About the Author
Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Goodreads | Pinterest Jade C. Jamison was born and raised in Colorado and has decided she likes it enough to stay forever. Jade's day job is teaching Creative Writing, but teaching doesn't stop her from doing a little writing herself. Unfortunately, there's no one genre that quite fits her writing. Her work has been labeled romance, erotica, suspense, and women's fiction, and the latter is probably the safest and closest description. But you'll see that her writing doesn't quite fit any of those genres. You'll have to discover Jade's writing for yourself to decide if you like it.
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