Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Guest Post - 3/25/20 - Submitting to the Cattleman - BJ Wane #Erotic #BDSM #Romance

She was a one-night stand following his rescue, but he couldn't forget her haunted eyes.


Excerpt:

Leslie should have known by now wallowing in self-pity never helped. She took a moment to eye the man at the bar again, this time catching a glimpse of his rugged profile beneath the black Stetson, a straight nose and the sardonic curl of one side of his mouth as a young woman approached him. His reply to whatever come-on she whispered in his ear sent her trouncing off in a huff. Leslie wondered how low her spirits would have to sink before she approached a stranger with a needy proposition. Maybe, if one look stirred her juices the same as eying that man, she wouldn’t mind the rash, desperate act so much. If nothing else, a night indulging in sex with a stranger would alleviate the loneliness for a short time, give her something else to think about.
By the time she downed two more drinks, stood to leave and the room spun around her, she realized she should have paid more attention to her alcohol intake. I can do this as long as I go slow. Since she wasn’t about to call one of her co-workers to drive her the few blocks back home, she forced herself to walk a straight path toward the door. She made it with only one stumble and as she breathed in the warm summer air, her woozy senses calmed a bit.
At least, Leslie thought her head had cleared enough to drive until she teetered through the well-lit parking lot in search of her car and rammed her hip into the bumper of a massive pickup truck. Swearing under her breath, she pushed away and wobbled toward the sidewalk she could follow straight to her apartment door. With her inebriated head bemoaning the return to her lonely apartment she never heard or saw the punk purse snatcher sneak up behind her until he tried pulling her bag from her grasp.
“Hey!” she cried out with a desperate tug to keep hold of her purse. “Leave me alone!” Tears welled as frustration over everything shook her.
The kid, who looked all of sixteen, took umbrage of Leslie daring to fight back and stunned her further with a back-handed swing that landed her on the concrete with a jarring thud and red-hot pain blossoming across her cheek. Reeling from both the dizzying fall and the blow, she had to blink several times and shake her head to make sense of the angry shout and large man now grappling with her assailant. Big men wearing cowboy hats, denim and boots were a dime a dozen in Montana, but no one had ever come to her rescue before. Her aching heart rolled over in appreciation even before he turned concerned eyes on her as the wily teenager broke from his hold, giving up her purse before taking off.
“Fucking kid,” he swore, squatting down in front of her. His rough voice sent tingles of awareness dancing down her spine, the intent look in his dark eyes reminding her of the observant gazes of the Doms at the club. He thumbed his hat back far enough for her to make out his rugged features and the dark shadow of his five o’clock beard in the meager amber glow of the streetlight and realize he was the same man she had ogled in the bar. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“I, yes, I think so.” He helped Leslie up and the street whipped around her in staggering circles. “Whoa,” she gasped, grabbing onto his thick forearm, the muscles rippling under her hands as he wrapped his other arm around her waist.
“This is where too much alcohol will land you. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
His firm, no-nonsense tone calmed Leslie’s racing heartbeat even if she didn’t care for his lecture any more than she wanted to spend another long night alone. God, it felt good to lean on someone for a change, not to mention the warm rush spreading through her body from his firm hold and take-charge manner. She must be either really drunk or really desperate for relief if a stranger’s kindness was tugging on her neglected needs as a sexual submissive.
“My car’s in the parking lot behind us and I live just a few blocks away.” Whether because of the scare she’d just experienced or from her self-pitying melancholy mood of late, she didn’t want him to walk away yet. If that made her a pathetic mess, she didn’t care and relief swept through her shaken body when he tightened his arm around her waist.
“I can’t let you drive in your condition.” He ran calloused fingertips over her puffy cheek, a light caress she felt clear to her toes. “You need something on this, and learning to duck wouldn’t hurt. I’ll give you two choices. Call a friend to come get you or let me take you home. We can return to the bar and let the bartender know where you’re going and with whom, to ease your mind. I’d say you need to report this, but the odds of finding that kid aren’t likely.”
Leslie didn’t hear much after he offered to see her home. Was it stupid to let a stranger know where she lived? Oh, yeah, but not as dumb as wishing he would stay and exert some of that commanding attitude in a different way. She craved a distraction from her isolated life and the bleak future looming ahead of her, and spending more time with this panty-dampening stranger worked for her.
“I think,” she whispered, swaying closer to that rock-hard body, “I can trust someone who was nice enough to come to my rescue.”


Blurb:

Why does doing the right thing have to be so hard?

 Leslie Collins has been asking herself that question ever since her eye-witness testimony in a murder case landed her in the Witness Protection Program far away from everything and everyone she’s ever known. Now, four years later, she struggles with growing despondency over the circumstances that prevent her from forming a relationship. When she allows her loneliness to get the better of her and indulges in a one-night stand, she never dreams her stranger will show up again at the private club she’s stayed away from for a few weeks.

Kurt Wilcox returns home to Montana to help his father recover from a stroke and hopefully mend the rift between them. He doesn’t plan on rescuing a woman from a mugging and ending up succumbing to the loneliness reflected on her face and indulging in a one-night stand. When he meets up with Leslie at his club, he refuses to let her hide her identity or her reasons for inviting a stranger into her home and bed.

Leslie finally caves to his persistence and agrees to an affair that seems promising until she learns her identity has been comprised and an attempt on her life forces out the truth about her past. Will putting her trust in her Dom jeopardize him and his employees when she agrees to his protection, or will Kurt rid her of the threat against her, as he promises, leaving her free to embrace her own HEA?
This is book six in the Cowboy Doms series but can be enjoyed as a standalone.

Publisher’s Note: This contemporary, western romance contains elements of mystery, suspense, danger, power exchange, BDSM, and sensual scenes. If any of these bother you, please do not purchase.

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About the Author:

I live in the Midwest with my husband and our dog, a lovable Great Pyrenees/Standard Poodle.  I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles.  We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now prefer being a homebody.  I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking.  My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic spanking romance with a touch of suspense.  My favorite genre to read is suspense.

CONTACT & SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
https://bjwaneauthor.com/

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Guest Post - 3/18/20 - "Desires" by Daryl Devore #Contemporary #Billionaire #Romance

When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes


Excerpt:

She walked out of the room and into the hall that separated the dressing room from the side stage entrance. There, she ran through a series of moves to warm up and loosen her muscles. Years of dance training had taught her how to prepare for a show, but being a pole dancer in a dive strip club was not the Lincoln Centre she'd imagined. Her right Achilles tendon complained. She pointed and flexed her foot then stretched the back of her leg. How ironic. An Achilles heel had been both Achilles' downfall and hers.
Once she felt her muscles loosen, she popped her head into the sound booth. "Asswipe – I mean Frankie has deemed that I'm up next. Jade's not dancing tonight. Fell off her heel. Can you put the Pole Dance Six music on?"
"Flame, honey, your wish is my command." Steve winked then scrolled through the music list and clicked on the requested folder.
The music from Passion Fruit's performance faded and applause replaced it. She bumped Flame's shoulder as she exited the stage. "Sorry. Gawd, what a shitty crowd. Brain dead morons are takin' over the world."
Flame stepped past her, walked to the pole at centerstage, wrapped her fingers on the metal and waited for the first music cue. As the opening chord sounded, she focused solely on her job, spinning around the dance pole, holding on with a hand, a bent knee, or a curved elbow. She stood beside it, lifted her leg, resting it on the shaft, and then pulled herself forward into a standing front split. She laid her head on her leg and tossed her hair right and left as she gazed about the bar. Baseball Cap Guy's seat was empty. Probably in the men's room, jerking off.
With a twist, she lowered her leg, turned so her back was against the pipe, and kicked off the stage. With her legs spread wide, the black crotch of her thong exposed to all, she circled the pole. The brilliant stage lights blurred as they seemed to whiz by. She slapped her feet to the floor, dropped to side splits, and humped the floor for several bars of music. She raised her head. Her gaze met two eyes staring intently at her. A small grin hovered over his lips. Forgetting her number one rule, she smiled back. He tilted his head in a small nod.
Flame's focus broke. Her pussy clenched. Her nipples strained against the leather bra. No man had ever disrupted a performance like the simple grin on this one's face. She pushed herself to her hands and knees and crawled forward. Reaching the edge of the stage, she shifted to sitting on her heels with her knees splayed. She dragged the nail of her right index finger down the centre of her forehead, along her nose, over her pouted lips, between her breasts, along her firm torso, and then over the edge of her leather-encased mound. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through her long red hair and paused with her hands behind her head. There, she waited, displayed for him, knees apart, and breasts pushed forward as if offering herself to his desires.


Blurb:

When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes. Desires is Daryl Devoré’s latest hot romance.

After a mistake by a surgeon’s scalpel shattered Fuchsia Quinn's dance career, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward. As the owner of a small, struggling dance school in a depressed neighborhood she supplements her income with a late-night job at a strip club. Haunted by the fear of humiliation, if her secret is revealed, her life was under control until the night he walked into the club.

Peyton Lang, having run from an impoverished neighbourhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire. Frustrated that his current multi-million dollar project is stalled, Peyton drops in to LEATHER-ICIOUS for a quick drink and late night entertainment. What he saw was a beautiful redhead. What he found was he wanted her.

After a lusty night with a hot pole dancer, Peyton and Fuchsia's worlds are about to collide.

N.B. This book was previously published by New Dawning Bookfair under the title FL.E.S.H. The edition has a new title, new cover and has been revised.

Buy Links:


About the Author:

Daryl Devoré (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, a black cat named Licorice and some house ghosts. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She's touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.

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Thursday, March 5, 2020

Guest Post - 3/5/20 - Pirates, Plunder and Passion Anthology - Edward's Law by Felicity Brandon #Pirates

What's a lady to do when she's boarded by ruthless brigands and barbarous buccaneers, kidnapped on the lawless High Seas?
Stripped to the skin by piercing eyes. 
Captive and claimed by rough, strong hands.
She knows it's forbidden but how can she resist... a pirate's pleasure.

Excerpt: 


Snippet from Edward’s Law by Felicity Brandon

Edward smiled. “As you can see, I have news of my own.”
He tilted his head in the direction of Alice, and for an excruciating moment, both men turned and regarded her. Alice’s face burned with embarrassment, and instinctively, she lowered her gaze, her attention falling on the stiff ropes at her wrists.
“A woman, Captain?”
“Very observant, Carlisle,” said Edward with a laugh. “Yes, a stowaway by the name of Alice Jaggers.”
“But a woman, sir,” the other man repeated. “It’s bad luck to have a woman onboard.”
Alice lifted her chin with interest. Bad luck, huh? This could be her way off the vessel altogether.
“Only if you subscribe to superstitions,” countered Law in an amused tone. “Which as you know, I do not. It is not luck that has brought us good fortune in the past but our own fortitude.”
Carlisle raised his brows but said nothing to protest. “How did she get on board, sir? And what are we to do with her?”
Alice’s belly twisted at the last question, her gaze darting once more to Edward Law. Until today, he was a man she had barely even contemplated—the man at the auction, a name on a list at Christie’s, but nothing more. Now, it seemed Mr. Law held Alice’s destiny in his hands, and she was heady with the new reality.
“I found her hidden in my quarters,” explained Edward as he turned to face Alice. “As for your second query, Carlisle, we are not going to do anything with her. As captain, our guest is my responsibility.”
She gulped at the way he made that sound, suddenly unsure if she should be grateful or afraid—worse was the way Alice’s body was reacting to the tattered captain. Where she had previously been disgusted by the sight of the man, she was fast becoming compelled. The weight of his stare and his authoritative presence had affected Alice in ways she could never have foreseen, and as she met his gaze again, she was perturbed by the way heat pooled beneath her gown.
“I should like you to stand guard outside my door while I address the crew.” Edward’s focus was back on Carlisle now. “I am sure you can understand I cannot have any of the men stumbling upon her by mistake.”
Carlisle turned to look at Alice, his brown eyes drilling into her. “Aye, sir,” he responded after a moment. “I can understand.”
Law moved toward him, resting his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “I would trust only you with this objective, my friend,” he said solemnly. “Keep her safe for me.”
“You can count on me, Captain,” Carlisle smiled, revealing two crooked front teeth.
“Good. Then I must depart.” Law turned in Alice’s direction, fixing her with a hard stare. “I shall not be long, but until that time, behave yourself.”
Alice pulled in a deep breath as both men stalked from the room. She watched as the door slammed closed behind them, imagining Carlisle waiting just beyond. A potent myriad of emotions stirred as she heard what she assumed to be Law’s boots pacing away.
No man had ever spoken to her that way. Even her father had treated his only daughter with courtesy and respect when he addressed her.
Alice blinked, shaking her head as she processed what she was feeling.
On the one hand, she was embarrassed at her current predicament, entirely of her own making, and no idea how it would be reconciled, but on the other hand, she was seething with indignation at the way she had been treated. The way Law had spoken to her—dressing her down like a servant. Her face flamed as she recalled his proximity and the way he had touched her—the nerve of the man—then had somehow made her admit the error of her ways aloud. That was a feat no one had achieved before. Alice may have been guilty, but she would never have admitted such, especially to a stranger.
She sighed, eyeing the captain’s quarters as she struggled against the ropes. Being bound this way was intolerable—just like Law’s insufferable arrogance and the way he made assumptions about Alice. He assumed she would obey him and would be pliant to his plans. She snorted—the man had a lot to learn about Alice Jaggers if he thought she would remain compliant. She had not sneaked her way on board just to end up his bound captive, yet even as resentment burned in her blood, there was also something else. His commanding presence, just like the bondage, had stirred something in Alice.
Something she had not expected.
Something that felt like desire.



Blurb:
Discover seventeen wicked historical romances, in 'Pirates, Passion and Plunder'

Prepare for hair-raising shenanigans.
Pirates make their own rules.

THE CAPTAIN’S CAPTIVE
by Victoria Vale

RAVEN
by Ashe Barker

ROGUE BOOTY
by Golden Angel

THE BLOND DEVIL OF THE SEA
by Celeste Barclay

BOUGHT BY THE BUCCANEER
by Vanessa Brooks

TAKEN BY SIN
by Sky Purington

THE SEA WOLF
by Lee Savino

EDWARD’S LAW
by Felicity Brandon

PIRATE’S RUIN
by Marie Hall

OWNED BY THE PIRATE
by Sue Lyndon and Celeste Jones

TROUBLED WATERS
by Jane Burrelli

PURSUING HER PIRATE
by Jaye Peaches

HIS STOWAWAY
by Measha Stone

HIS WICKED WAYS
by S. Cinders

CUT AND THRUST
by Simone Leigh

PIRATE’S PLEASURE
by Mariah Stone

LADY EVANGELINE’S PIRATICAL PERSUASION
by Emily Tilton

Edwards’s Law by Felicity Brandon


The Dexterity—designed to be the pride of the King’s navy, is mine.
Or, at least, she should have been, had the scoundrel Edward Law not waltzed into Christy’s auction house and stolen her from right under my nose.
But if Law thinks he can claim what rightfully belongs me to me, then he has another thing coming.
No man can make demands on me, be he gentleman, or otherwise.
I won’t concede to his dark, brooding eyes. I won’t surrender to his iron will.
Edward Law means nothing to me…


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FREE with Kindle Unlimited