Jun 28, 2013

Snapshot to Destiny


FREE on Amazon June 27th – 28th


Willow Reese has always been drawn to photography. So much, that she owns a small photo lab where her customers who haven’t moved into the digital age can still get their film developed.

Her clientele range from grandmothers with photos of grandkids, to morticians with pictures to make you cringe, and one very sexy professional photographer named Spencer, who she’s always been sweet on.

But one day, her whole world shatters when a she finds that a series of photos cause her to have a reaction that will shake the foundation of everything she’s always believed in. Her life will never be the same, not unless she chooses to make it remain as it was destined. 

Can Willow find happiness in what life already has destined for her, or will she change everything that she desires?
  


Dark Tales Diaries: Volume Two by London Saint James

Genre: Romance


Blackthorn Printing made a splash in the publishing world with the introduction of Dark Tales Diaries, yet despite his efforts, Tristan Blackthorn isn’t any closer to finding the woman he seeks. Unwilling to give up on his lost love, his search for Keira continues in Volume Two.

A voyeuristic moment leads an astronomy professor and his assistant to a steamy endeavor on The Observation Deck.

An invitation for cocktails has the reclusive woman who lives in 204-B pondering why the handsome, wealthy owner of her building would invite her to anything. Does she have enough guts to go to The Top Floor?

And a Maestro strikes the right cord with a young and talented cellist who is trying to find her passion.



Excerpt:

     “Come on, Tristan,” Keira said, giggling playfully as she shut her diary.

     “What new story have you added? One of love? Intrigue? A tale of the forbidden?” I inquired while eyeing the leather bound book.

     Keira laid it aside, and rose to her feet. “I’ll read them to you, someday.”

     She slipped out of her white cotton dress, leaving her sandals in the wake of snow-colored material at my feet. I leaned my back against the trunk of the tree, pretending to rest, but in truth, rest was the furthest thing from my mind.

     Keira twirled on the ball of her foot, more graceful than any dancer.

     “Do that again,” I said.

     The sun broke through the leaves on the trees, and set her long raven tresses into brilliant highlights that shimmered in deepened shades of blue-black. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She alone encapsulated perfection, with her small, pert breasts slightly covered by her long hair, and when she moved, the gumdrop point of a pale-pink nipple peeked through some of the strands. She raised her arms above her head, giving me a full view of her extended frame, and did something of a provocative pirouette before turning to face the pond.

     Her slender waist gave way to rounded hips that swayed seductively as she tiptoed, nude, toward the edge of the water. She stuck one toe in, and looked at me over her slender shoulder. Her jewel-green eyes penetrated my soul.

      Keira twisted her long hair up, and used the dark pieces that fell from her fingers to weave her tresses into a tied-off knot, freeing the canvas of her back. The dappled shade that fell from one of the overhanging branches caressed the curve of her spine like a long lost lover, and in that instant I wanted to kiss the dimples above her heart-shaped ass. The thought stirred up something much more primal.

     “Are you coming?” she asked.

     When Keira licked the plumpness of her lips, my cock ached for her.

     “Definitely,” I said, and stood from my shaded spot under the oak, toeing off my shoes in a hurry, before ridding myself of my shirt and pants.

     Once free of my clothing, I bounded toward her. She grinned and jumped before my hand made contact with her arm. I wasted no time, and followed in behind her. Our heads popped to the surface in unison, with her joyous laughter filling the air.

     “I bet you can’t catch me,” she taunted in a cutesy voice before diving beneath the murky pool.

     I studied the trail of bubbles and waves she made, guessing where she might come up, then made my way onto the grassy bank, crossed over the plank bridge, and hopped into the water off the south bank. When she resurfaced, I snatched her up.

     “Got you,” I said, and placed a kiss to her lips.

     She wiggled. Her moist mouth left mine. “No fair, Tristan. You were supposed to swim and catch me, not cheat, and wait until I ran out of air.”

     “You never outlined the rules. And besides, I play to win.”

     Keira, shook her head. Water rolled along her nose, over her parted lips, and down her chin before the wandering drop found its home in the pond.

     “I know you do,” she said, rubbing her nose against mine. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”  

     “What else do you love about me?”

     “I’m not telling.”

     I placed my lips to her tempting neck, traced a line with the tip of my nose to the end of her ear, and sucked her lobe into my mouth. “What if I persuade you to tell me?”

    She moaned my name, and draped her arms around my neck. “Don’t stop doing that, and I might be persuaded.”

     Keira wrapped her long legs around my waist. The head of my hard cock slipped between our two intertwined bodies. She pressed herself against me, tighter. Warmth worked its way through my essence as I slid my manhood in-between her parted lower lips. I wanted to explore all of her with my hands, my dick, and my mouth. One hand remained on the back of her slim neck while the other left her lower back to discover the wonder of her ass. Flames, not water lapped at my skin with a desire beyond words.

Buy Link:  Evernight Publishing 


Dark Tales Diaries: Volume One

For years, Tristan Blackthorn has toiled to find his lost love. He finally decides to use Blackthorn Printing, along with his newly created Dark Tales Diaries, as a way to find herWill her story be one of the three tales in Volume One?
Mistress Guinevere’s calling card is her Red Stilettos. She specializes in a particular fetish and always maintains her control, until a man from her past returns to test her will. 

A recently divorced woman experiences the effects of empty nest syndrome after her twins head off to college. With the clock ticking away, she decides it’s far past time to seek out something that has always eluded her. Will she find what she’s looking for withThe Leather’s Edge?

And a bored computer programmer learns what it’s like to feel sexual freedom after being bound by a Master in Safe Word.

Be Warned: bondage, anal sex, sex toys, fetish



Buy Links:    Evernight Publishing       All Romance eBooks       Amazon       Barnes & Noble

About the Author:

London wrote her first short story in the second grade.  Her teacher informed her parents London had a big imagination, but having a big imagination wasn’t necessarily a good thing as far as he was concerned.  Without watering that seed of imagination, London placed her vivid characters, her childhood stories, along with her imagination on the shelf, where they would wither for a while.  At the urging of her eighth grade English teacher, London pulled her imagination off that shelf, and wrote her second short story.  To no surprise, it was a love story inspired by a song.  Then as life does, it moves on, so yet again London placed her imagination on the shelf to wither for a while.  She needed to do the “sensible thing.”

The sensible thing earned London a degree in Psychology, but while in college she traversed into writing once more, and was encouraged by a couple of professors to pursue that endeavor.  She took on the world of written word, and has never looked back. 

London writes erotic romance from sweet to downright naughty.  She is an author for Evernight Publishing, a member of the Romance Writers of America, and a member of Passionate Ink.

Connect with the Author:    Site       Blog        Facebook       Twitter


Jun 26, 2013

Spotlight: The Dance of the Mystai by Tinnekke Bebout

Tour Organized by Shades of Rose Marketing
Genre: New Age



The Dance of the Mystai is an experiential and magickal journey for those wishing to discover the Lunar Mysteries and the ways of Hekate. The book is an organic outgrowth of the work of the author and her Sisters as they have grown and rediscovered the ancient goddess and her rites. Within these pages are a collection of essays, poetry, goddess lore, and practical ideas for growing and living a personal Path based on the Lunar Mysteries.






Human life starts with a simple cry, a cry that is universal: the cry for Mother. It means warmth and love and security. It calls for food. It brings a scent indelible in our memories and primeval in our response. It brings the scent of Mother. It’s inexplicable, we just know the smell when we’re around it and barring childhood trauma that disconnected us at an early age, it’s a smell that relaxes us and makes us happy. So the journey begins before we have words for it.

Just as the child longs for Mother before there are words, so we women on our Goddess paths long for Her before we have words for what we seek. There is a sense of not belonging in the world of Father-identified Godhood, a vague unease with the male-only terms for creation, an inner tug that tells us that something more is out there. Someone more is out there. That someone loves us and waits for us. We sing a chant that flows from our lips before we realize it’s a heart-felt cry, “Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” We call for our Mother in baby words, soul words. We are answered as we were as infants, with a feeling of warmth and love as Mother hears us and holds us and reminds us that She was always there waiting for us. And just that quickly, we know—we know why our longing filled us and caused us to journey in a spiritual wilderness away from the known world of FatherGod, through dark places where we questioned our journeys and doubted our inner needs—because out there waiting in the still soft warmth was Goddess just longing for Her daughters to hear the call and call to Her in return. We are suddenly home.

I cannot say with any truthfulness that the journey is always easy. For most women I know, myself included, it was hard. It was a journey fraught with a million temptations and obstacles all designed by the paradigm of the FatherGod to bring us back, either by luring us with treats if we are “Good Girls” or by threatening us with punishment as “Bad Girls”. Many times, these obstacles and lures are all within us; we drank in their existence with our first milk and they were taught to us as simple truths by our parents before we were old enough to think and question. They can make even the most dedicated doubt the journey, even after Goddess has been found.

I remember hearing with great surprise a woman who was an early voice of Goddess Spirituality and deeply respected in the community express the fear and doubt she had when one of her children died suddenly that the FatherGod was punishing her for following the Goddess Path and spreading the word of it to other women. It was a surprise but also a relief. I have had those feelings myself at times for other reasons. The feeling that the FatherGod can always reach out with His long arm and strike us down or the feeling during times of struggle that maybe life would be better and easier if we just returned to the FatherGod is one that hits many women during our journey and even after we have found Goddess.



Buy Links: Amazon   Barnes & Noble   Smashwords




Born and raised in the midwest, Tinnekke Bebout grew up slowly finding her voice as a writer. Her first non-academic assays into the art involved poetry she created while still in high school as well as her first attempt at a novel. Since leaving academia as a young woman, she has found her creative outlets mostly through the genres of poetry and essays. Recently Tinnekke has begun stretching herself into the realm of short fiction as a contributor to the recent anthologies Taboo, Love Down Under, and For Love of the Gods. She is planning a novel-length piece at this time based on the story of Thetis, mother of Akhilles. 


Tinnekke is the author of The Dance of the Mystai (Pagan Writers Press 2013). She also contributed toHekate Her Sacred Fires and the soon-to-be-released second part of Memento Mori  from Avalonia Press as well as Pagan Writers Presents Samhain. She is also working on The Hekate Tarot , a devotional project in honor of Hekate, with Hope Ezerins, a sister Priestess in the Mystai of the Moon tradition. She has also been published in such periodicals as Goddess, Circle, PanGaia, The Loom, Askei Kataskei, andThe Goat and Candle. She also is editor and publisher of The Torch Bearer.

Tinnekke is one of the founders of the Mystai of the Moon Tradition, and carries the title of Priestess of the Flames within their Rites. She also founded the Lyceum Magissai, which is the school of the Mystai tradition, and creatrix of its Priestessing Path. As a Mentor Sister of the Mystai, she teaches women a Mystery Tradition that has at its heart recreating the ancient mysteries of Hekate and revisioning them for the modern era. 



Author Links:  Author Site    Mystai of the Moon Site    Facebook     Twitter    Goodreads


Jun 25, 2013

The Esposito Series Box Set

Tour Organized by Goddess Fish 

The Esposito Series Box Set:

Now you can own the first three books in the sassy and suspenseful Vinnie Esposito Series by J.M. Griffin!

By day, Lavinia (Vinnie) Esposito is a criminal justice instructor at a college in Rhode Island. By night Vinnie is an amateur sleuth, solving murders while trying to avoid getting yelled at by her Italian father, her hunky protective boyfriend Marcus Richmond, and her sexy upstairs tenant, the mysterious Aaron Grant.

For Love of Livvy (Book 1)

Vinnie investigates the death of her beloved aunt, and a mysterious box is left on her doorstep.

Dirty Trouble (Book 2)

Someone is stalking Vinnie and that’s just the beginning of her troubles.

Dead Wrong (Book 3)

Vinnie is out to save her brother from being framed after a valuable painting is stolen.


Excerpt
The front door knocker rapped twice after the door bell rang. I hustled from the rear deck of the gargantuan house to answer the summons. Someone seemed impatient, and I was curious as to who it was. My watch read just after eight o’ clock. I swung the heavy door open to find my prospective visitor absent.

It was so quiet, the town ghostly in its seemingly deserted state. Sundays were always lazy days in Scituate, once church was over. With a glance up and down the street of the small historic Rhode Island village, neat colonial homes stretched along the sides of the road in both directions. No one came into view.

On the doorstep, a package addressed to my recently deceased Aunt Livvy sat wrapped in brown paper. Again, I gawked up and down the street, but only empty sidewalks and barren roadway appeared in the waning light. The idea of a jaunt along the main drag entered my mind. I figured it would be senseless since the street was visible for about two hundred yards in either direction. Whoever had left the package was gone, long gone.

An eternity passed, or so it seemed, while my gaze locked onto the square, little box. Reluctant to touch it, I decided to call the local fire company to come take a gander. Call me paranoid, but as a criminal justice instructor, a recent audit of a class on bomb components remained fresh in my mind.

I quickly stepped to the living room and grabbed the phone. I dialed the private number of the fire station up the street. A grunt came across the phone line that could only be Bill MacNert.

“Hey Nerd, its Vinnie,” I said. “A package was just left on my doorstep, could you come down and check it out for me?”

“Sure, you got a secret admirer or somethin’?” He cackled, as only senior men can.

“Not likely, but you never know. This package is addressed to Lavinia Ciano, not Lavinia Esposito and is wrapped in brown paper. Nobody’s here to accompany this little surprise either.”

“I’ll be right down, Vinnie, don’t touch it.” He warned.

“Okay.”

Anxious, I paced back and forth across gleaming hard wood floors in the spacious living room of my newly acquired colonial. My fingernails tapped the enamel on my teeth as I wandered to and fro. As irrational as it seemed, I finally leaned against the door jamb inside the entry to wait for MacNert to arrive.

It wasn’t long before the limber old guy came into view as he hot footed down the street with a stethoscope in his hand. This particular piece of equipment wasn’t quite what I’d expected, but then he wasn’t a bomb expert either.

When he arrived on the doorstep slightly out of breath, he glanced at the parcel, and then turned toward me.

“This was just delivered, you say?” MacNert squinted toward me with wizened brown eyes that twinkled all the time. It was as though there was a private joke going on inside his head.

“Yeah, someone knocked on the door, and when I got here to answer, there was nobody around. It didn’t seem prudent to mess with it, so I called you.”

“You just finished that bomb class, eh?” He chuckled and then sobered quickly. Since 9/11, everyone took stuff like this with a serious attitude. While he chuckled, I knew MacNert was no different.

The stethoscope ends plugged into his ears, Bill laid its diaphragm on top of the package. Removing it, he gingerly set it against the sides and listened again. I didn’t make a sound as he stood and glanced up.

“There’s no tickin’ but that doesn’t mean it’s not an explosive. You should probably call the state police barracks up the road. Have them send their bomb guys down for a lookie see, just to be on the safe side.”

“Geez, I hate to do that. I’ll feel stupid if it’s a joke,” I whined.

“It’s up to you, but if you were nervous enough to call me, then you should call them. It’s just my opinion, Vin.” He stepped over the box and wandered into the entryway. “Got anythin’ to eat? Wifey’s out of town visitin’ her sister and I’m starved.”

Bill didn’t seem over concerned, but then again, he hadn’t recently taken a bomb class either. My eyes never left the box as I answered him. “There’s food in the fridge, help yourself.”

I’d known the homely man and his family for years and respected his opinion. Tapping my fingers against my lips, I called after him, “You’re right. I’ll ring the state police now, but stick around okay?”

Unwilling to be nailed as over-dramatic by the staties, I reluctantly punched in the numbers. It was bad enough that the local cops had bugged the shit out of me for the first month after Aunt Livvy’s death. They still stopped by now and then, annoying me even more with stupid questions. Questions to which I had no answers.

After the trooper covering the desk answered, I explained what I’d found on the doorstep. He seemed unconcerned until I mentioned my name and address, and then he stated someone would be down momentarily. The swift change in his manner piqued my curiosity. I wondered why he’d suddenly capitulated when his initial response had been of disinterest.

In the living room, I paced while awaiting the arrival of the state police. Within minutes a sleek, grey Crown Victoria pulled up to the curb out front and a tall, lean trooper got out. Broad shouldered and well built, he walked with assurance and a certain amount of swagger. I stepped into the open door entry and watched him saunter through the front gate onto the walkway. He stared at the package and then at me.

“Did you call about this box, ma’am?” Keen hazel green eyes traveled over my face and down my body.

Craggy features, sculpted from granite, faced me and I felt my blood run hot as the breath caught in my throat. What was this about? I gazed at him admiring the neat package wrapped in the trim uniform.

“I did. Bill MacNert from the fire station thought it would be a good idea since it was mysteriously left on the doorstep. He checked to see if it was ticking, but it isn’t.”

“Are you Lavinia Ciano?” The trooper’s glance strayed from the name on the wrapper to me as his eyes showed a glint of humor and his mouth twitched.

Could that humor be over the name? I wondered, as I said, “No, my name is Esposito. Livvy was my aunt.” Our eyes held and my heart pounded. I licked my parched lips and then glanced away.

An oversized van idled up behind the patrol car and the trooper glanced back. Two men stepped from the vehicle dressed in heavy gear and acknowledged him. He turned to the lead man, mumbled a few words and then stared at me again. If this was an action film, I would have expected Bruce Willis to jump out of the truck announcing he was about to kick someone’s ass. This wasn’t an action film, but a real life situation instead.

The two guys angled through the front gate and hitched their gear as they hauled a peculiar looking lidded barrel toward the front door. By this time, a few neighbors had taken notice of the activities. Several people straggled along the sidewalk across the street to watch.

You’d think it was a freakin’ sideshow. I smiled and waved. Nobody responded, they just continued to gawk. A little excitement for them on an otherwise dull Sunday, I guessed. The trooper stood aside and watched the crowd, but said nothing.

The overdressed bomb guys corralled the box between them. With delicate finesse they lifted and stowed it into the metal container, loaded it into the truck and drove off. I stared in disbelief. Hell, I wanted to know what was in the package. I had a right to know, didn’t I?

The trooper turned to leave and I stepped forward.

“Uh, I’d like to know what’s in the box, if it’s not too much to ask.” My hand snuck up to my hip as my cocky Italian attitude slid into place.

Tall and Curious stiffened at my tone and turned to stare at me. It seemed he wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, which wasn’t any big surprise. Women tend to respond differently to men in uniform, especially a man such as this luscious creature. Well, not this chick. I teach guys like him all year long and the “I’m so wonderful” thing gets old fast.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, Miss Esposito. If we have any questions, you’ll hear from us right away.”

I gawked a moment and my eyes narrowed. His opened wide in contrast and he waited, his body tense. Maybe he thought I’d pitch myself off the steps onto his perfectly toned frame and pummel the daylights out of him or something. It was a thought, but I really wanted to know what was in the package. Besides, his muscles were bigger than mine.

In an effort to change tactics rather than be handcuffed and dragged off to jail, I smiled and spoke in as nice a manner as I could muster.

“I’d appreciate any information you could give me officer, since the package was left in such an alarming way. Should I call headquarters tomorrow?”

His look narrowed. I suspected he was unsure of where this was headed. There was a moment’s hesitation before he answered the question.

“Sure, that would be a good idea.” He gave a nod of the stiff brimmed campaign hat that covered cropped brown hair.

“All right then. I’ll call the colonel first thing.” My voice remained light and sweet, and the smile was charming, at least I hoped it was.

The colonel runs a strict police force and is a tough disciplinarian with an intense dislike for any impropriety, implied or otherwise. I’d gleaned that much from the cops in my criminal justice classes.

A tight lipped smile crossed his face. I figured he couldn’t decide whether I really knew the colonel or if this was a ploy. To be truthful, I lied by omission. I hadn’t said I knew the colonel, I just said I’d give him a call.

“That won’t be necessary ma’am. As soon as there’s any information, I’ll get in touch with you.” With a nod of his head, he turned and left.

Don’t you hate that ma’am thing? It makes me feel old. I know I’m thirty-something, but really.

Bill MacNert stood near the doorway sucking down a sandwich filled with sausage and peppers. My mother had sent the food home with me the day before. The smell of rich tomato sauce and fragrant sausage tantalized my taste buds.

“Guess it wasn’t that serious then?” Slurp noises preceded a sauce blob that dripped down his uniform shirt.

 I glanced at Bill’s shirt, snagged a tissue from my pocket and dabbed at the drip.

“I won’t know until tomorrow, but if I’m the town laughing stock you’re in for it and don’t forget it. By the way, did you leave me any food?” I chuckled at his expression.

Bill’s guilt ridden grin assured me that he hadn’t, but he swore that he had. He handed me the empty plate before he headed toward the fire station. I watched the stethoscope bob up and down from the back pocket of his pants. He trotted up the street, and I felt sure the story would make the rounds since Bill was an avid gossip.

The crowd had dispersed, and I was alone again. Livvy would have had a fit over the whole affair had she been alive, but I figured there was no sense in being stupid. I act that way often enough, thank you.

Mystery still surrounded Livvy’s non-violent death. While the police weren’t forthcoming with information, the state troopers’ attitude on the phone caused me to reconsider the promise to my father to not investigate on my own. I wandered through the house deep in thought over the situation.

Darkness had descended as I headed toward the bedroom. Changing into a t-shirt and boxer briefs, I climbed into bed with a notebook. The troopers’ attitude niggled at me. I leaned back against the pillows scribbling notes about the package delivery. Words ran across the page as the scene and the trooper came to mind. The trooper’s name wasn’t on his badge, but I remembered the badge number.

The pad propped against my knees, my mind drifted over the parcel and the officer’s attitude. Warm hazel green eyes along with the trooper’s cool manner had drawn my interest. It wasn’t really just his bearing that caught my attention either and it was a struggle to stay focused.

Intense eyes sat above a strong, chiseled nose and firm jaw. I sketched the features onto the pad of paper. His lips weren’t thin, not too wide, but just right for kissing. Wondering what it would be like to taste those lips, I gave myself a mental head slap. A cop is the last thing you want or need, my inner voice echoed. This voice always echoed dire warnings through my head. It had a bad habit of doing so at the worst possible moment. Just stay focused on Livvy, I lectured myself.

Snuggled under the lightweight blanket, thoughts about Livvy and our life played in my mind. Muscles relaxed, and I realized I needed to talk to her tomorrow. The graveyard was about two blocks away from the house. I often went to her grave for a conversation when I’d become involved in one issue or another. That’s what my life consisted of, one issue or another. Most of the time the issues were huge, never mundane, not ever.

I sighed, sniffed the sweet summer scents that wafted through the open window and wondered how this summer in Rhode Island would be. The pillow slipped lower and so did I as my mind wandered over life, the package and my aunt.


J.M. will be awarding Tea and Chip Nuts to three randomly drawn commenters (US/CANADA ONLY) during this tour and her Reviews Tour

The more you comment the greater your chances of winning. 




As a humorous, cozy mystery writer, J.M. adds a touch of romance to every story. She believes in fairies, doesn't believe in coincidence, and feels life is what you make it. Believe in yourself and look at the positive, not the negative, to bring about success. AND. . .never stop trying.

J.M. lives in rural New England with her husband and two very mysterious cats

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Go buy the box set here 

Jun 24, 2013

Spotlight + Giveaway: A Love Like This by Kahlen Aymes

Tour is organized by AToMR Tours
Buy: Amazon | Smashwords
Settled in New York City, Ryan and Julia Matthews seek to enjoy their idyllic newlywed life together.  Julia’s high-profile job at Vogue and Ryan’s promising career in medicine will surely set them up for everything they could ever want.  Their only obstacle seems to be finding enough time to spend together.
When a scuffle at Ryan’s hospital puts his life in danger, a colleague steps in to save him but is critically injured in the process.  In a heroic and unwavering effort, Ryan manages to save her life, but her injuries irrevocably change her future forever.
What happens next will push Ryan beyond human endurance, when he is forced to decide how much he will pay for his new friendship and Julia, what she is willing to sacrifice in order to spare herself the unspeakable pain of watching someone else try to replace her in Ryan’s heart.
Join Ryan and Julia in the heart-wrenching conclusion to the unforgettable story of an incredible love, worth every single sacrifice…

For there is nothing more sacred than… A Love Like This…



I wanted to give her pleasure, after the past few days, and to reinforce my devotion and unselfishness in my love for her and to totally obliterate any doubt. The delicious ache began to build at my intention, while I reached beneath the edge of the sheet. Her body heat had warmed them, and the closer my hand got to her, the warmth intensified. My hand slid up her thigh to her hip then back down to curl around the back of her knee. I pulled Julia’s lower body toward me and moaned softly.
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to hear that I needed sleep or how I should let her take care of me. I wanted to taste her, to hear her moan my name as I made her come under my tongue.
Her head moved to one side as both hands slid up her smooth thighs. My hands closed around them and I slid her closer, bringing her horizontal on the bed and perpendicular to where I was at its side, pulling her closer and draping her legs over my shoulders. I turned my head, kissing the inside of her right knee with my open mouth, slightly sucking on her skin.
Julia lifted her head slightly, but she knew what I intended to do. “Ryan.” She sighed softly, her legs stiffening as conflict crossed her beautiful features. I could almost hear the words telling me to stop and just hold her before she said them “You don’t need…”
“Hush. I do need…” I murmured as I continued a delicious path of the same wet kisses up her leg and toward my goal. She knew how much going down on her excited me, and I knew I could make her writhe and moan within a couple of minutes, or I could take my time and draw it out. I moved, slowly repeating the kisses up her other leg, and she fell back, her legs falling open in surrender. I smiled against the tender flesh of her inner thigh, intoxicated by her scent as one
hand flattened on her stomach and then slid up to fold around a full breast, kneading and then teasing the nipple with my fingers. It was already puckered, but it grew beneath my touch. I let her anticipation grow, kissing the flat plane of her abdomen below her navel and letting the warmth of my breath blow over her moist, tender flesh. She tensed, the fingers of both hands burying in my hair.








$25 Amazon gift card, (1) Signed complete set of The Remembrance Trilogy,  (1) Ryan is Mine T-shirt, (1) A Ryan’s Favorite Chef’s Apron, and (1) Coffee Sunday Mug.
a Rafflecopter giveaway


(1) eBook copy of A Love Like This. eBooks will be gifted from Amazon, Smashwords, Kobo, Sony. Open International. (Value $3.99 USD)
a Rafflecopter giveaway


Kahlen is an award-winning author of sizzling hot, deeply moving contemporary romance. Her stories are filled with intense love, passion, angst and emotion that breathes life into her characters and leaves her readers captivated. She lives near Omaha, Nebraska with her daughter, Olivia and their three dogs. Creative by nature, she enjoys the arts, music and theater... But the love of her life is writing! 
Represented by Elizabeth Winick-Rubinstein of McIntosh & Otis Literary Agency, the first two books in her series; The Remembrance Trilogy are available now. Come and experience Ryan and Julia's mad, mad love.
The Future of Our Past (The Remembrance Trilogy, Book 1) is on sale for .99 right now.  
Amazon | Smashwords





Spotlight + Giveaway: Surrender To Me by Ella Jade

Spotlight Tour Organized by Shades of Rose Marketing
Genre: Romance 


What happens when a Dominant falls for his not-so-submissive attorney?

Martin Abrams, owner of Master M’s BDSM club, has become unfulfilled with his lifestyle. Ever since his sub, Gracie, left to marry her true love, Martin has lost his way. Living the life of the head Dominant in his circle isn’t as appealing as it once was. Something seems to be missing.

Sassy lawyer Arianna Covington relocates to New York City after a humiliating divorce. She’s looking for a fresh start when she agrees to become Martin’s exclusive attorney. She’s intrigued by his domineering personality and wants to know why women kneel at his feet.

Their attraction is undeniable despite Ari’s initial beliefs that she will never submit to Martin’s desires. But Martin is up for the challenge. Arianna is more than he ever imagined in a woman. He vows to claim her heart, with or without the games. Who will surrender first?

Featuring Cade and Gracie from Make Me Stay.

Content Warning: contains explicit language and graphic sexual content




Excerpt:

"Do all the subs act that way around you?" Arianna asked.

"It's the only way they know. It's what's expected of them."

"I don't understand how any woman would bow down like that. It's not normal."

"Maybe not for you." Martin understood Arianna's position. Most who didn't participate in a Dominant and submissive relationship didn't get it.

"It's degrading. She can't use the phone. She's a grown woman."

"Arianna, this is a lifestyle you can't possibly comprehend because you know nothing about it. A submissive gets just as much as he or she gives. The arrangement they enter into with a Dom is consensual. Roxy is not forced into being here. Her Dom respects and cares for her. She has a very good life."

"He punishes her."

"When she disobeys. It's in her contract."

"A contract that can't possibly be enforced in court."

"Spoken like a true lawyer." He finished his scotch. "The contract is to protect them both. It lists what is expected of a sub and what the Dominant's responsibilities are. They outline hard and soft limits. We create a safe, sane, and consensual environment, and that contract maintains trust between the two parties. As long as it is upheld between the parties involved that's all that matters."

"To each his own, I suppose." She shrugged. "I'm your real estate attorney. What you do here is none of my business."

Then why are you here, kitten?

"I'm very open, Arianna. If you have questions, I'll be happy to answer them. People should be educated in my lifestyle. It isn't as uncommon or bizarre as you may think." He reached for her hand. "I hope you won't judge me without getting to know me."

"Um, no." She looked down at their joined hands. He liked the way her cheeks turned colors when he flustered her. "Of course not. This whole environment is different. It's going to take some getting used to."

"I understand." He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her hand. "If you'd prefer not to meet here anymore—"

"It's not a problem."

"Very well." He smiled because as he suspected she wanted to be there. "Will you join me for dinner?"

Martin couldn't remember the last time he'd asked a woman to have dinner with him. He usually just summoned a sub when he was in the mood for company. Gracie was the last woman he'd spent any time with at all. Perhaps it was time to explore his options. Obviously, Arianna would be different than the women he dealt with, but he liked the change. When Gracie left him for Cade everything changed. He hadn't been interested in another sub. As a matter of fact, he hadn't been interested in another woman until now.

"I'd love to join you for dinner, Mr. Abrams."

"I'd like you to call me Martin." Allowing people to use his name wasn't a privilege he granted often, but everything was different with her. He stood from the bar and picked up her briefcase. "I hope you like Italian. I ordered enough for six people. I wasn't sure what you would want."

"Italian is fine." She took his extended hand and walked to the back of the club with him. "Why didn't you just wait and ask what I would want?"

"I'm not used to asking." He motioned for her to take a seat in the huge u-shaped booth that overlooked the Manhattan skyline.

"Oh, Martin." She giggled. He liked the way his name tumbled off her lips. "You have a lot to learn about non-submissive women."



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Meet Martin in Make Me Stay
Can the sub teach the Dom to play? Natural submissive Gracie Miller thought she had found her other half in Cade Jameson. Not only did he help her through a difficult time in her life, in the bedroom he brought her more pleasure than she could have ever imagined. They seemed perfect for each other.  Cade knew what he wanted in the bedroom. Gracie brought out his domineering side and ignited his passion. But he feared he was too dominant for this beautiful, na├»ve girl, who was so young and impressionable, so he ended their relationship. Two and a half years later, Gracie returns to town a new woman. She had moved to the city and found a "Master" who showed her what she was truly capable of. Now she's back and wants to show Cade exactly what kind of submissive she could be for him. But after hearing all that she's experienced, Cade now wonders if he's dominant enough to satisfy her. Can he be the man Gracie needs him to be? Content Warning: graphic sex, BDSM themes

Buy Links:    Beachwalk Press        Amazon      Barnes & Noble

About the Author:

Ella Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialogue have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can't be stopped. Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two young boys. When she's not chasing after her kids, she's busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you'll get lost in her words.
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