First of the month first chapter #PNR #romance #erotica



Gorgeous Drew loves the ladies. One hot New Orleans summer his life of fun and romance is about to change.
Marianne owns and runs a new age shop. She sells her spells and potions
aware of Drew's conquests, sometimes wishing he'd look her way.
Magic is in the air. A series of events will unfold that changes everything.
An erotic romance, full of sex, romance and magic, this short PNR story will delight.
Formerly available on the now closed All Romance 
New edit and format for 2017
Available January 5 Amazon KindleUnlimited only
Please be aware this is erotic romance and 18+ story only



Clip my Wings

Elodie Parkes

Drew Devereux stared at his reflection. The mirror was speckled with age and surrounded with an ornate, antique frame. Condensation built on it again, and he swiped a space to look into his eyes.
You know you won’t do it. Throw the leaflet away. Why care? After years, will you change? Do you really want to?
Last night, Marianne had accused him of being addicted to sex, and handed him information about an addiction group. He’d considered her words. He loved sex. He couldn’t wait for the next time. He savored every second, and yet sometimes recently it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Does that mean I’m addicted? He’d researched the addiction online before going to sleep and definitely some of the symptoms fit.
He turned from the mirror, ran his hands through his thick dark hair, and padded to his armoire. Drew flicked the hangers along absently. He paid no attention to the clothes hanging there. His mind tumbled with luscious memories of the night before, to a young woman, whose name he couldn’t remember, with her thighs open to his hungry gaze and his fingertips. Her panties, just a scrap of black lace, revealed the contours of her sex as they caught in her damp slit. He loved the scent of arousal as he peeled the panties from her, loved the bare, wet welcome of her pussy as he bent to lap at her folds, and suck on her delicious clit.
Drew sighed, recalling how he’d soaked up the accelerating sighs and throaty sounds of pleasure as he pumped his fingers in her. God damn, I love sex, love the smell, the rush, the overwhelming waves of pleasure … it’s not an addiction … I just love sex is all. His cock stirred at the pictures in his head.
He grabbed a pair of jeans from the hanger that had slid to a halt in front of him. He dragged them on. T-shirts fresh from the laundry, folded in a neat stack on the built-in shelf, crumpled and rucked up as he yanked one from midway down the pile.
Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll ever love again. He pulled the T-shirt on. I want pussy, want the slow grip as it envelops my cock. I want the crush of breasts against my chest and the taste of satin skin on my tongue as I suck. Fuck … I’m getting an erection.
Drew ran down the two flights of stairs to the enormous kitchen. The strong aroma of coffee greeted him.
Marianne was already at work in one corner, weighing, mixing, stirring, and filling the colored vials for the shop. She bent over the table. Her shapely ass clothed in denim shorts immediately captured his attention. Sexual need slammed into him. His stomach clenched and his cock jerked. The spasm completed his erection. Drew’s gaze roamed over her shapely thighs—the way a V-shaped space formed between them at the top, the soft part at the bottom of her ass…
I could slide my fingers into that space. A handful of that ass is just what I need. Damn, she’s my oldest friend, and—not interested.
He turned and ran back up the stairs. His cock strained behind his zipper. He hadn’t reached the sanctuary of his own bedroom before he opened his jeans and sheathed his erection in one hand. He closed the bedroom door already gasping, working his cock to orgasm. He leaned on the door and gave himself what he knew he must. The orgasm ripped through him and buckled his knees. He slid down the door, his T-shirt rumpling up at the back, but catching on his chest muscles at the front, his breathing heavy. Fucking hell…Drew squatted there to calm himself. Sometimes the peace of having an orgasm didn’t last long these days, and he’d be looking forward to the next in minutes.
Drew stood and strode to his bathroom. He cleaned up and looked into the mirror again. Get a fucking grip. With that thought, he walked over to his bedroom window, a wide double door that led to a balcony. It was still early enough for the street below to lack the throng of tourists, or the writhing participants of a festival. Drew leaned on the pale green wrought iron balustrade and looked down. He’d fucked a young woman against the rail two nights ago. He pictured her hanging onto the rail moaning, as he fucked her from behind. Drew shook his head, trying to clear it. They love it … they always come … I’m tender … caring…He left the balcony and went slowly down the stairs to the kitchen.
Empty now of the enticement that was Marianne, Drew poured a cup of coffee and wandered over to check out the diary. They had a tour to conduct at midday in the cemetery. It would be full of potential conquests, young women throwing caution to the wind as they vacationed in the warm, historic city. Lovely sexy women in tiny shorts, or dresses that floated to the floor, as he took them off, they never said no to him. They sometimes asked to see him again, but no way was he going there. No woman wants to know she’s a one-night stand, a fuck. He’d smile his charming smile, nod a little, and tell them he’d find them. He knew the vague promise was enough in the heady atmosphere of New Orleans.
Drew sat down heavily on one of the carved wooden kitchen chairs. Lots of the furniture was antique. Marianne’s mom had left her not just the shop, but also the house, and everything in it. Her mom had provided the recipes for the spells they sold to tourists. These days, they sold other things too, Tie-dyed silk scarves, candles, watercolor paintings by some of the local artists, trinkets, and they conducted “spooky tours.”
Drew and Marianne had known each other since they met in junior high school. When he came home from NYU with degrees in music technology, she was there to welcome him. A frown creased his forehead. Was I addicted to sex then? I can’t remember it. When did it first start? He threw the remains of his coffee in the sink and placed the cup in the dishwasher. Maybe Marianne knows … maybe she noticed.
 Copyright Elodie Parkes 2017

You’re never too old for some holiday naughtiness #holiday #eroticromance from @lisabetsarai

New Release!
Gray Christmas
By Lisabet Sarai




You’re never too old for some holiday naughtiness


Widowed author Emma Granger has reconciled herself to spending Christmas Eve in snowy Boston, with a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio and her cat Vronsky. Her daughters have their own lives on the West Coast. Emma knows she can’t expect them to visit every holiday.

A loud crash from the apartment above her overturns her plans for a quiet evening at home. When she investigates, she meets Nick North, an energetic iconoclast with a gray ponytail, a silver earring and bright blue eyes that kindle feelings she’d thought were gone forever. Nick is her own age, maybe older, but his lean body and impish grin affect her as if she were a horny teenager.

Although Emma makes her living writing spicy romance, sex with a stranger seems ludicrous when you’re an arthritic grandmother in your sixties. Still, the attraction she feels for her charismatic upstairs neighbor appears to be reciprocated. A Christmas fling might be just what Emma needs to brighten her holiday.


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Coming to other vendors soon! (I hope...)

  

R-Rated Excerpt

Despite how horny I was, I was still too shy to tell him what I wanted. In the old days, I’d been brave, even brazen, but it had been so very long since I’d been with a man. I still couldn’t quite believe Nick wanted me. I’d never been beautiful, but back in my sex goddess days, I knew I was sexually attractive. I knew how to use my assets, my curves and my hollows, to please my partner and myself. Now, though? That was ancient history. All that formerly taut, responsive flesh sagged and bulged. How could he look at me without disgust?

“You have such beautiful breasts,” he murmured, almost as if he’d read my mind. Bending at the waist, he took one nipple in his mouth. I moaned at the sudden bliss, humping his butt, writhing as he bit lightly into the engorged nub.

“And so sensitive, too…” He swiped his tongue across the other nip, then swallowed it and sucked hard.

“Oh…oh, Nick!  Oh, God! I can’t stand it.”

He looked up, into my eyes. I lost myself in the blue.

“You want me to stop, Emma?”

“No, no—oh, I’m so embarrassed, but I want…” I couldn’t bring myself to go on.

He brushed his lips across mine. “Yes? What do you want, sweet lady?”

A hot blush spread across my cheeks, and my chest too. Inside my panties, I was melting.

“I—you know, Nick. I want you to fuck me. Please, Nick.”

His grin grew broader. “Of course. But not quite yet.”

 Hooking his fingers under the elasticized waistband, he inched backward, pulling my pants and underwear down until my grizzled pubes were half exposed. “Lift up. Yes, that’s right.” The baggy sweatpants followed the sweater into oblivion.

The tidal scent of female arousal rose from my bared pussy. Nick filled his lungs. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re gorgeous!” He rolled to the side, off my body, then eased my thighs apart and positioned himself between them. “I’ve wanted to do this since the minute I saw you.”

“Don’t exaggerate—oh!”

Nick used his thumbs to part my still-bushy pubic curls and open my lower lips. Then he leaned forward to blow a stream of warm air across my clit. I jerked at the sudden pleasure, arching up to seek more direct stimulation. He responded with a long, firm stroke of his tongue along my exposed cleft. Before I could recover, he sank deeper, burrowing into my pussy as though he wanted to devour me.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.



Double Delight #midweektease #romance @sirenbookstrand Grab a coffee and enjoy


Simi hurried on past the huge fir tree decorated with bright white fairy lights. The seventh chime of twelve echoed out. A car suddenly sped by, sending a spray of icy water up onto the sidewalk and drenching her calves. The shock made her falter. One of her spike heels caught between pavers that had cracked in the summer. Simi fell as the heel broke off from the shoe and the last stroke of midnight faded away.

She didn’t reach the cold, hard pavers. 

Two strong male hands grasped her waist, lifted her, and set her on her feet. A deep, attractive voice asked, “Are you okay?—You’re not. You’re freezing and your shoe is broken. Let me help you. I’m here for you.” He held her shoulders, taking some of her weight as Simi limped to face her rescuer.

She looked up and into the eyes of a gorgeous man. Strands of his thick dark hair glistened in the light, thrown off by the strings of fairy lights threaded through the branches of the trees lining this part of the sidewalk. The sleet lent a sheen to these strands and lit him up as if he, too, was a Christmas decoration. Simi gazed at him. She drank in the perfect features of his face. Her eyes dipped to take in his obviously muscled body under his clothes. His overcoat hung open over a black suit. He wore a gleaming white shirt and a black bow tie. 
He’s perfect.

“I’m fine, thank you,” her voice scratched out.

He gave her a look just short of amused, but definitely disbelieving.
“I know otherwise. Please, it’s Christmas. Let me be here for you.”

Copyright Elodie Parkes Siren Publishing
Candle Magic #erotic enticing #romance
Be enchanted this #holiday season
http://www.amazon.com/Candle-Magic-Siren-Publishing-Classic-ebook/dp/B00SGCDRN6
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Candle-Magic-Siren-Publishing-Classic-ebook/dp/B00SGCDRN6/
http://www.bookstrand.com/candle-magic

18+ excerpt
Emily opened the door.
The sight took his breath away. She was dressed in a simple, short, dark-blue shift dress, but it touched her curves exactly right. His gaze strayed to her bare thighs, and then with a smile he raised his eyes to hers.
“Emily, you look beautiful. I’m early, I know.”
She nodded and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. It’s great to see you.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.”
Chris stepped into the hall. It brought them to stand very close together. His heart pounded. Will she see my jacket move with the force of this pounding? It’s probably loud enough for her to hear. He stared at her. Conviction she was meant to be his, that they were destined for each other, gave him courage. He held out his arms.
Emily went into them, molding her body against his, her arms sliding around his neck.
The move enchanted Chris. His hips surged forward against her. He pressed his erection onto her stomach. His arms around her waist, he bent his head slowly to hers. The sexual tension between them lent an air of unreality to the atmosphere. The moment his lips met hers Chris felt as if every muscle in his body had dissolved. The floating sensation was exquisite. He savored her mouth. He soaked up every brush of her breath, every inch of her body as she pressed against him, her soft lips kissing him, her hands gentle in his hair. Delight coursed through him. Low moans from them both added to the raw sexual connection. His cock throbbed. His balls pulsed. He ran his hands down Emily’s ass to cup her there, lift and hold her to his body as he thrust the bulge in his pants against her.
Emily broke the kiss to whisper a question against his lips. “Chris, did you book dinner anywhere?”
He took a breath. The loss of the kiss pulled his mouth back to hers. He kissed her between words. “Why? No, I was hoping to take you to a quiet place a friend recommended.” He kissed along her cheek to her ear and then down her neck. Her skin was like silk. He rubbed his lips, nose, and cheek against it, tenderly, loving the scent of her.
“I thought we might stay here for a while, unless you’re hungry…I…” Her murmured words against his ear sent ripples of sensation down his stomach to his cock.
He groaned. She wanted him. He sensed it. He scented her desire. The air vibrated, saturated with sexual longing. “I’m hungry for you. I want you badly. I can’t think straight for wanting you naked in my arms. I know we’ve just met. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I want you, too.” She moved to take his hands. She led him down her hall to a room.
As they went through the door, Chris realized it was her bedroom. He saw the balcony window he’d stared through before.
She turned and offered her dress zipper to him. The movement of her hair released a clean yet heady perfume.
He fumbled for a second. The nape of her neck enticed him. He kissed her shoulder as he pulled down the zip. When his fingers encountered her panties he moved back to watch as she shook the dress from her shoulders, and down her arms. It slipped to the floor, past her hips. She stood before him, and his breath left him. Her bra was barely there, her panties like a tiny band of lace. He gathered her into his arms slowly, fighting down the urge to pull her to the floor and fuck her hard.
He merged his lips with hers in a kiss that closed his eyes with lust. His body heavy with desire, his cock painfully hard, strained at his clothes. The pressure of her fingers as she unfastened his pants sent a buzz of excitement over his skin. Tonight he’d worn a suit. The pants came undone easily, and her fingertips trailed over the head of his cock. A groan formed in his throat. He shuddered as she grasped his cock.
“You’ll make me come. I’m out of practice. That feels great.” His voice sounded strange. He shook as sweat beaded on his forehead.
Emily let him go carefully. “You’re hot.” She laughed. “I mean you’re warm. Let’s get these clothes off you.”

Copyright Elodie Parkes Siren Publishing, All Rights Reserved

Impossible wasn't impossible anymore. From @naomi_jay and @evernightpub #FF #PNR new release

Thank you for having me today! I'm here with my new Romance on the Go, THROWN TO THE WOLVES. This story was partially inspired by an article I read on Romania's Hoia Forest earlier this year. It's long been famous for paranormal activity, from UFO sightings to the strangely shaped trees. Some people believe it's a gateway to another dimension, whilst others say it's haunted by the ghost of murdered peasants. There's a rich history of folklore and urban legend growing there, and so what better place to set a paranormal tale?

I've stayed away from UFOs and ghosts, though, and instead gone with vampires and werewolves. Well, it is Romania! In THROWN TO THE WOLVES, aspiring author and tattooed tomboy Paige goes hunting for inspiration. And she finds it...along with danger, ancient enemies, and of course, love. I hope you'll enjoy my little venture into the Hoia Forest!



Paige went to Romania looking for inspiration for a book. She found herself caught in a horror story. Attacked and left for dead by a vampire, Paige finds herself at the mercy of Kata, a beautiful, enigmatic werewolf. Their attraction is instant, but Paige's fate hangs in the balance. She may yet be turned into a vampire herself. Soon it's clear to Paige that the only way to save herself may be to return to the woman who attacked her...even if it means placing both herself and Kata in the greatest danger.


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Excerpt

This was her rescuer, she guessed. She'd gone from the jaws of a wolf to the bed of a woman, so someone had rescued her. But there was nothing about this woman that said “safe” or “friendly.” She was regal, imposing, and her silence was intimidating. But Paige didn't have it in her to sit meekly and say nothing. For all she knew, she could be worse trouble now, with this woman, than she'd been out in the woods or with the creature she'd fled in the first place.

The memory of the woman who wasn't a woman made her shudder, and she touched her throat. She felt dried blood and a dull ache, and it forced her to speak.

"What are you?" she asked.

It was probably the wrong thing to say. She should have said thank you, or asked where she was, or even asked the woman's name. But those questions didn't matter even a tiny fucking bit. Not after the nightmare she'd found herself in.

The woman laughed, a rich sound that made Paige think, incongruously, of sticky toffee pudding. "You are smarter than I thought," she said in heavily-accented English. "When you see a woman lost in these woods at night, you don't think she can be very smart."

Unnerved, Paige sat up slowly, pulling the rough duvet up with her. She was still fully clothed, she realized, but the duvet gave her a sense of security anyway. Stupid, but true.

"My name is Kata," the woman continued. She turned to a small, rough-hewn table at the bedside. A jug of water and a glass sat there, and she filled the glass before offering it to Paige.

Paige ignored it, despite the dry thirst gnawing at her. "I didn't ask your name."

Kata gave her a mock innocent look, eyes wide. "Sorry. Perhaps my English is not so good."

Paige thought Kata's English was probably fine, certainly better than Paige's Romanian. "What are you?" she asked again, louder and slower this time, in that ignorant manner so many Brits abroad used that she hated. Her voice shook as she spoke, but she managed to hold Kata's gaze and she was proud of that.

Kata set the glass down and pointed to the wound on Paige's throat. "You have seen things already tonight I think you would not believe, yes? So I will ask you, what do you think I am?"

Her voice was gentle, with genuine curiosity in the question. And Paige thought about it, and thought she could fall into hysterics or rage, deny what her heart already knew and claim it was impossible. It would be easy—nice, even—to do that, because twelve hours ago, she would have said it was impossible, and she would have laughed at anyone who told her otherwise.

The problem was, hysteria and denial never helped. Staying calm, acknowledging the problem and finding a solution, that was what helped, whatever the situation. And besides, wasn't the bite at her throat proof that it wasn't impossible? Wasn't passing out in front of a wolf and waking up in front of a woman just further proof? Impossible wasn't impossible anymore.

So she said the impossible words. "I think you're a werewolf."

About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online

Blog - http://naomiclarkwrites.blogspot.co.uk/
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/naomijclark?ref=bookmarks
Twitter - @naomi_jay


New release #MMromance #PNR from Marie Medina and @evernightpub

Valladora Tales is a series of stand-alone stories set in Valladora. My latest tale, Owen and the Beast, is now available.
As the title suggests, this story is a retelling of the fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast, but it has a few twists in it.



Seeking to ease his loneliness, Owen sets out to meet his last remaining relative, someone he never knew because of an old family scandal. He’s trying to find his way in life, his path uncertain and his heart having been broken more than once.
Suffering under a demonic curse that can never be lifted, Edmund hides away in Erimooor Lodge so he doesn’t have to deal with the pity and fear his appearance inspires. Though many in the nearby village accept him as he is, he knows not everyone will have that ability to tolerate his animal-like appearance.
Owen makes his living as a storyteller, enthralling others with fantastical tales. Little does he know that the gods have something amazing planned for him when he meets the real “Beast of Erimoor Lodge” and finds out how wrong all the old legends are.

Buy Links

Excerpt:

Owen hoisted himself up onto the boulder and pulled his boot off, crying out at the unexpectedly sharp pain. He stared down at his rapidly swelling ankle. Cursing, he fumbled for his bag, which had gone flying when he’d caught his foot in a rut in the road and been thrown forward. He’d actually done more damage pulling his foot out of the rut, and that pissed him off. He looked down the road and tried to guess how far away he was from his aunt’s village. He thought it had to be at least five or six more miles, but he didn’t really know. There was supposed to be an inn coming up soon, but he didn’t know its exact location either. What he did know, however, was that he didn’t see anyone coming from either direction on the road.
He barely managed to drag his bag over without falling off the boulder. He dug around in the deep, overstuffed bag, hoping to find something to wrap his ankle with, perhaps even brace it. Even though he’d known he didn’t have anything, he still felt dejected when he cinched up the drawstring and dropped his bag back to the ground. Dirt flew up, making him cough, and he looked up to the sky. It had been so dry lately he’d been praying for rain, but now he hoped it held off since he might get stuck in it. Fluffy clouds floated to his left, but the clouds to his right were darker. He looked around to find some shelter, but he couldn’t see any. Only open fields lined this part of the highway.
Owen sighed and wiggled his ankle, cringing at the pain. He could always rip the hem off one of his shirts to bind it, but walking any distance would only make things worse. His aunt would know just what to do, but she was miles away. Should he keep it still or move it? Should he elevate it? Questions raced through his mind as he heard hooves beating in the distance. He jerked his head up and began waving frantically as soon as the horse became visible over the ridge.
A man about his age rode up on an enormous black stallion. He made the horse stop and jumped down right away. The enormous animal seemed formidable, but it stood calmly and looked on as its master rushed over to Owen. The man actually appeared much younger up close, a huge grin on his face as he pushed his messy brown hair out of his eyes.
“Hi! You look like you need some help!” the man said, still grinning.
Owen had never seen anyone express concern so happily. He shifted on the boulder and said, “Yeah. I sprained my ankle, and I’m still miles from my destination.”
“Where are you heading?” he asked.
“The next village. The small one by the mountains in Lady Christobel’s dominion. My aunt lives there.”
“Oh. That’s many miles away still. You’d never have made it by dark even if you hadn’t hurt yourself. There is a little inn about four miles up, but my home is much closer. I live in the lodge just over this next hill, off in the woods.”
“I’d appreciate it, but I don’t want to impose.” He straightened. “I’m Owen.”
The man laughed. “Sorry. My master would roll his eyes at me and my thoughtlessness. I’m Lane. Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances.”
“Your master? You’re a servant?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“You mentioned a lodge. A hunting lodge?”
“Well, it used to be.” Lane bent down and looked at Owen’s ankle. “Hmmm. I need to see to this, but I don’t have anything for a splint. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know on the way.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I was worried about getting stuck out here in the rain,” Owen said as Lane picked up Owen’s bag and hefted it over this shoulder. Glancing to the stallion, Owen sighed. “I know I can’t walk, but I’m not sure I can get up on him. He’s enormous.” Lane was also half Owen’s size, so he wasn’t sure how much help the man would be in getting him up onto the horse. “Maybe if I can stand on one foot and put all my weight on you, I can make it.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We can get you up there.” Lane made a clicking sound with his tongue, and the stallion came right over to them. Speaking to the horse as if it understood every word, Lane said, “This is Owen. We’re going to take him home with us. He needs our help.” Then he pointed at the ground.
To Owen’s shock, the horse actually lay down and then turned to look at the two men. Lane held his hand out.
“Here. Just swing your injured leg over. I’ll steady you.” He frowned. “No, wait, I’ll move to the other side.”
Lane moved to the other side of the stallion and reached his hand over. Owen grasped his hand and threw his injured leg over, pulling himself into position to sit properly in the saddle. Once Owen was situated, Lane smiled at him and clicked at the horse again. Lane held to the horse’s reins and urged him up slowly. The powerful animal got to its feet easily, and Lane walked around to fetch Owen’s other boot.
As they began their journey, Owen asked, “Your master won’t mind an unexpected visitor? I can pay, of course.”
“Nonsense. You’ll be our guest. It’s just me and Lord Edmund day in and day out.” Lane grinned once more. “I’m so excited! I already know exactly what to make for dinner. And I just aired some of the ground floor rooms, so we can move you right in to one of those.”
The title gave Owen pause, as did Lane’s excitement. “Your master’s a vampire?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t like to be addressed by his title. I slip up now and then, and he forgives me. He’s very gracious. Kind and gentle. Would not harm a fly. The best of masters. Good and generous and understanding.” Lane smiled as he kicked at a few pebbles on the road. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”
Owen wondered why Lane was trying so hard to convince him this Edmund was a good man. “You think a lot of your master.”
“Yes, I do.” Lane beamed up at Owen. “I think you’ll like him. I’m sure he’ll like you.”
“Well, once my ankle is bound, I won’t trouble you too much. If I can just rest and then maybe borrow a horse. I promise to bring it back as soon as I can. Or you can accompany me if you like.”
Lane waved his hand. “Nonsense. You should stay until you’re healed. We’d love to have you.”
“I couldn’t impose like that. It will take days. And even if your master is gracious, you haven’t exactly asked his permission.” Worried he might sound condescending, Owen quickly said, “I mean, you know him best, of course, but I hate to put him out in his own home.”
“It’s nothing! Please, I insist. It’s time we had a bit of life and activity about the place.”
Owen watched Lane for a long time, wondering how things could be lacking in life and activity with Lane and his enthusiasm to contend with.




The Power of Peppermint @LDBlakeley #MMRomance #HolidayRead new release

 Thank you for having me on today to tell you about The Power of Peppermint! This happy little holiday novella is a true labour of love for me. It's my first self-published title as well as my first Christmas release. So I hope you enjoy!



































The Power of Peppermint by L.D. Blakeley
Available: December 14, 2016
Erotic Romance, MM, Romantic Comedy, Holiday Romance
Publisher: LDB Books
ASIN: B01MRX7F8F

The most wonderful time of the year?

When Jamison Pritchett is roped into replacing the mall photographer at Santa’s Village a week before Christmas, he’s certain he’ll be spending the holidays recovering from a nervous breakdown. A throng of sugar-frenzied kids might be enough to send this uptight photographer back into the darkroom permanently. Inappropriate thoughts about his far-too-attractive—and far-too-young—assistant aren’t helping fight that urge to hide, either.

For Noah Hawkins, adulting is a snap. Too bad relationships aren’t. With his business temporarily closed for repairs, he’s happy to help his sister out of a jam, even if the costume he’s given to wear borders on obscene. Constantly being mistaken for a teenager is no treat either, especially when he discovers his temporary new co-worker is sexy as hell and 15 years his senior.

Can Noah convince Jamison that age is just a number? Or will Jamison resist the gift Santa seems to be handing him on a platter?





WHERE TO BUY:
Amazon
ARe
Smashwords

EXCERPT:

The wiggle he gave as his cell phone rang, elicited a flurry of giggles from the children who were patiently awaiting their turn. He’d tucked it into the waistband of his tunic because, well, honestly there was nowhere else to stash it.

“Speak of the devil,” he answered, seeing his sister’s face on the phone’s display. “Woah, woah, cool your jets.” Noah held the phone an inch or so from his ear. His sister’s voice was anything but dulcet, especially when she was blasting him with an earful of — wait, what did she say?

“Where are you?” Abi demanded.

“At the mall in all my elfin glory.”

“Well, how come Jamison just told me you bailed?”

Her voice had zero chill and Noah knew better than to mess with her too much. “What are you talking about? I’m looking at him right now. Have been for hours.” As though to punctuate Noah’s sentence, Jamison looked up at that exact moment. Noah couldn’t help himself and flashed what he hoped was a dazzling smile.

Dropping his voice just in case it carried, he continued. “P.S., how come you never mentioned how hot he was? I mean, he’s wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, but he’s damn pretty. You did say he’s gay, right?”

“He is. And leave him alone.”

“Hang on a second, you’re talking to me like I’m a delinquent teenager instead of someone helping you out of a jam. Remind me again how you roped me into this gig?”

“You’re good with kids, know your way around a camera, and could use the distraction. And you love me.”

Noah laughed at her bullet-pointed accuracy. “I don’t love you that much. Try again.”

“Because I’m letting you live under my roof, smartass. And as long as you’re under my roof—”

“I know, I know,” he cut her off with a chuckle. “But I might have to amuse myself by flirting with the J in A & J Photography.” He could almost hear the impending warning, so he didn’t give her a chance. “Sorry, gotta go. Santa’s almost done for the day and requires my assistance. Bye-bye.”

She hated it when he did that. Which made it all that more fun when he did. Just to be on the safe side, however, he turned the ringer off before tucking his phone back into his patent leather belt.

There were only a few kids left in line when Mac gave him the wrap-it-up signal, so he latched the velvet rope behind the last of them to keep out stragglers. As much fun as the munchkins were, Noah was looking forward to getting home, getting showered and putting on real pants.

When the last print of the day had been handed over to a beaming young couple and their chirpy toddler, he locked up the till and started packing things away for the night. Within the first few days on the job, he’d gotten the routine down to a science and was finished in no time.

Jamison was still crouched by a tripod busily loading lenses into his camera bags so he wandered over to help. He didn’t seem the type to let anyone touch his gear but Noah figured he’d at least ask. It was as good an excuse as any to talk to the guy.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m just about finished. Thanks.” Jamison zipped up the bag and stood to his full height.

With absolutely no shame, Noah gave him a head-to-toe once-over. Damn.

“I’m Noah by the way.” He grinned, knowing full well by the slight blush on Jamison’s face that he’d been caught. He hadn’t been going for subtle. “Abi’s brother.”

“Oh. Oh.” Jamison’s eyes widened, no doubt in recognition of the name. “Jamison. Hi.” He cleared his throat and held his out his hand.

“Nice working with you today.” He held onto Jamison’s hand a beat or two longer than necessary and gave him a puckish smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added with a wink.

For good measure, he added a bit of sway to his hips as he walked away. He’d be willing to bet good money Jamison was watching his ass.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


L.D. Blakeley is a pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind. She loves horror movies, hot sex, and happily ever afters. She’s easily distracted by shiny things, and is a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.

In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men.

Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in downtown Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.

Find L.D. online:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Can wishes come true? You bet—especially if Nick Kringle has anything to do with it. #MMromance #NewRelease

Make a Wish E.D.Parr Erotic, romantic, a Christmas MMromance to make you tingle


It’s the day before Christmas Eve and gorgeous, happy, Nick Kringle is making deliveries on the main street of the city when a car breaks down at the intersection.
Amid the seasonal crowds and inclement weather, Dylan West gets out of his car and tries to push it to the side of the road.
Nick rushes to help him and comes face to face with the most delicious man he’s ever seen.
Dylan’s down on his luck, but Nick believes in magic.
Can wishes come true? You bet—especially if Nick Kringle has anything to do with it.


Who is Nick Kringle?
With a name like that you might think he’s the jolly old elf in red, but Nick is a gorgeous guy who just happens to have a touch of the supernatural about him. He drives a red SUV, he delivers goods, and sometimes they’re straight from somewhere special—a place of magic and kindness.
Nick is gorgeous, kind, generous, loving just the kind of man that down on his luck Dylan West needs to run into. Could it be fate that makes his car break down unexpectedly almost next to Nick on the busy main street full of hectic Christmas shoppers and travelers? Maybe…

Read an excerpt:

The city street glistened with rivers of red, green, bright pink, and white light thrown there by the stores and cafés decked out for the holiday season. Rain fell in drifting sheets as a chill wind ravaged the shoppers rushing from one place to another, some laden with parcels, others hunched against the weather in their winter coats.
Nick parked his SUV in the first available space, opened the trunk with the interior lever, and leaped out. He didn’t feel the cold unless snow lay knee deep on the ground and even then, he enjoyed the beauty, and the way a new white fall would change the light, way too much to complain about the chill.
As he ran around to the back of his vehicle, the squeal of tires braking hard and the clamor of honking horns made him spin around. In the junction behind him, standing motionless, was a stalled car. Other drivers surged around the stationary vehicle, making everything worse by taking space in the oncoming lanes so that everyone crammed dangerously together.
The driver of the offending vehicle edged out of his open car door, narrowly missed by a small car that chanced overtaking just as the lights turned red.
Nick cast a keen gaze over the man, registering his muscled body beneath an inexpensive suit and his thick dark hair, pushed back from his forehead so that the front spiked up. Nick watched the man lean into the open driver’s side door and attempt to shove the heavy vehicle to the side of the road. The man’s pants stretched over his hard ass and a sigh of appreciation escaped Nick. With one hand on the wheel, and the other lodged in the gap between open door and car, the man clearly needed help. Nick clicked the trunk of his SUV closed and jogged over to help.
“Hi, I’ll lend a hand,” he called to the stranded driver. The man straightened to answer and Nick was face to face with one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen. Nick never hid his emotions. They shone from his ice-blue eyes and exuded from his well-toned body. He smiled at the man in a way he knew and didn’t care broadcast attraction, desire—pure sex.
Apparently unaffected by Nick’s charisma, the man gave a grateful nod. “Thanks.” He leaned into the task of pushing the car out of the way, as the traffic lined up behind him, and the sky opened with a fresh punishing downpour.
Copyright E.D. Parr Evernight Publishing 2016
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After their ten year separation will Gabrielle and Justin discover The Perfect Christmas? #newrelease #romance



The Perfect Christmas 
Gabrielle Sullivan is in a panic to finish her shopping on Christmas Eve when she literally bumps into an old friend, Justin Law, from university. After being knocked to the floor Justin offers to buy her a coffee and both admit they had a strong attraction to each other, but both were too naive to admit it at the time. After their ten year separation will Gabrielle and Justin discover The Perfect Christmas?

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Gayle Cranfield was born in East London, England and found her forever after, Mark at the age of 14.
Now, 32 years later, they have two children and after a move in 2016 they now live in West Cork on The Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland.  They have one child at University in Wales working on a Masters degree in Psychology and another at the London College of Fashion studying Make up, Hair and Prosthetics for Performance (Training to become a sci-fi makeup artist for film and TV basically).

Gayle was an Account Manager for a manufacturing company until 6 years ago when, after a weird shamanic experience in Brazil, she changed her life path. Whilst on a road trip around California in 2013, she read some disastrous books and when she returned home decided to write one of her own. Having never creatively written a word since school, she picked up her iPad and hesitantly started to write in secret thinking she'd write a short story. Before she knew it, she had 20 chapters and 97000 words!

"It is great to see your work come alive," Gayle says. "Although you have had various Beta readers telling you it is a great story and a real page turner until a publishing company says 'Yes we want your work' you only think your friends are being nice and trying not to hurt your feelings. Seeing the front cover being emailed to me for approval was when the reality hit me that this was actually happening and people other than my friends were going to read it."


Gayle writes suspense and paranormal novels with a very dark twist, aimed at 18+ age group. After a short break from writing due to her move in 2016, she is now writing full time and has four novels published and one short story to be released on 14th December 2016. She has another short story that has been submitted to her publisher and is hoping it will be released early 2017, with a full novel being submitted in the new year with another April 2017.