Guarded Heart by Treva Harte #Action #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #LGBT @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Leo was sure Gene would see the advantages of staying in California — with Leo — once he gets Gene back home. But it looks like Gene’s only here to find out why he’s been threatened, and to make sure his only friend in the state isn’t the one making threats.

Leo knows finding out the truth could leave Gene disillusioned and in danger. It probably doesn’t matter that Leo cares a hell of a lot for the guy. Enough to protect him, find out the truth, and let Gene decide whether to stay or go.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 13th at retailers

 

   

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Treva Harte

For some reason I’d thought I’d finally got Gene when he agreed to come home to California. I mean, how could you not love California? The beaches, the food, the people, even the damned smog and the occasional earthquake. I couldn’t imagine any place better. But he had the worst plane phobia I’d ever seen on anyone who actually made it onto a plane and stayed there. And motion sickness, I think. And probably just anxiety about every damn thing he was doing on this trip and why he was coming back.

The car ride from the airport had been only marginally better than the plane ride. He wasn’t turning green once we touched ground, but once he got in the rental car Gene took to crossing his arms as if to ward off a threat.

“Sorry, Leo,” he said before he got in the taxi. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. Being a bad traveler? Raising my hopes that once he got here, he’d be happy?

Gradually he stopped talking at all. That wasn’t like him.

I braced myself for the reaction when we entered my condo. Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn’t be what I expected. He never did what I thought he would.

He smiled.

“This isn’t a crappy place.”

“It’s no penthouse, but it’s really near the office.” I’d been lucky to get the one bedroom back when someone needed quick cash. But compared to what Gene used to live in…

I watched him head over to the patio window and look out and then try another angle for the view.

Damn it, this totally didn’t measure up to his mansion in fucking Malibu. That place was exactly what a big star, a star as big as he’d been, was supposed to be in.

A hummingbird. He reminded me of a goddamned hummingbird as he craned his neck and then stepped back. That was his usual style. Colorful, eye-catching, and darting here and there. He didn’t belong in my minimalist place — the nice way of saying I had almost no furniture beyond what was absolutely needed and the walls were painted a boring, neutral light gray. I hadn’t thought much about it until he arrived, looking out of place.

Then again, he hadn’t looked right in his cabin in Maine. That made this place look like a palace. Maybe it was just as well he hadn’t seen where I lived until he’d spent a decade living in a beaten-down shack in the middle of nowhere. Anything would look good after living there.

Damn it. I hadn’t felt self-conscious in years, and I wasn’t going to take up the habit now. “Why don’t you settle in? I need to check my email and make a few calls. Then we can have some tea — I think I have some — and figure out our next moves.” I tried to sound casual. Orders weren’t going to work with Gene, especially a jumpy Gene. But I already knew what needed to be done. We could wrap this up in a few hours at worst if what I thought happened actually had. And if it hadn’t, then what was going on would be a damned unusual event.

“Maybe a shower. I’ve probably sweated my shirt through.” Gene looked faintly embarrassed. “I haven’t been on a plane in a long time. For good reason.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Smartass.” Gene grinned and then headed toward the bathroom without asking for directions. It didn’t take much to figure out where it had to be. My condo wasn’t a lot bigger than his cabin.

I fought the sudden drive of lust when I saw that grin and then I had to fight following him into the shower. I had work to do, even though that pull of sex was almost too strong. How the hell did he do that? I usually had more self-control.

I needed that self control as I began to go through the emails I needed to answer. Most of it was routine, thank God, because I began to think about other things — namely, what happened next. Once we wrapped his problem up, then what? How would Gene take a theft from the one person he trusted back here? And what possible reason would we have to see each other afterward?

Not just theft, but attempted murder. Whoever had threatened him had followed through, however badly, by hiring someone who used a teenager to shoot off a BB gun into Gene’s house. A half-assed attempt was still an attempt. The threats, the shooting — I didn’t know why that was supposed to cover up embezzlement, if that was the issue, but lots of thieves didn’t think things out properly.

But the thing was, once we found out it was his agent, Gene would have no reason to ever come back to California. He hated it now. And California was my home.

Why the fuck did I care? It wasn’t like we were long-time lovers. Gene had hired me a second time after we hadn’t seen each other in a decade. Shit, after he’d fired me and disappeared. We’d just barely started to be friendly fuck buddies this time around. So I’d been a little hung up on him for the past few years. More like ten years, but…

“All right. I’m almost feeling human again,” Gene announced, his voice at my elbow as he bent over to see what I was doing. “Let’s hit the tea and discuss things.”

I looked at him all showered, clothed, and perky and I wasn’t thinking about tea. He smiled again, slowly, as he assessed my stare.

“Unless you have a better idea,” he said.

 

More from Treva at Changeling Press …

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

 

BOOK BLITZ: Dirty Daddies (Anniversary Anthology) #ContemporaryRomance #anthology #bookblitz #kindleunlimited

Dirty Daddies
(Anniversary Anthology)
Publication date: August 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Strong, sexy, dirty as hell… twelve Daddy Doms who know what they want.

Twelve women who just don’t stand a chance.

Dirty Daddies is a sultry anthology of panty-melting romances starring twelve commanding Daddy Doms who won’t accept anything less than total surrender. Brought to you by thirteen USA Today and International bestselling authors, this deliciously filthy collection of all-new stories is packed with HOT, raw Daddy Dom action that is sure to leave you blushing.

Surrender to the submissive in you. Get Dirty Daddies today!

Featuring:

Forbidden Sweets by Maggie Ryan
Long Distance Daddy by Rayanna Jamison and Allysa Hart
Sylvie: Dr. Richards’ Littles 26 by Pepper North
Detective Daddy by Kara Kelley
Little Leigh by Golden Angel
Daddy’s Little Liar by Maren Smith
Daddy’s Precious Girl by Katie Douglas
An Odd Little Girl by J.M. Dabney
Cry For Daddy by Aubrey Cara
Lindsay’s Secret by Emily Tilton
Dom Fitness by Brianna Hale
Daddy’s Naughty Darling by Laylah Roberts

Goodreads / Amazon

SNEAK PEEKS:

Sylvie: Dr. Richards’ Littles 26 by Pepper North

Her blue eyes widened as Kane stepped into the shower stall. His body made the space instantly become smaller and more intimate. When he paused outside of the shower spray, she knew that he was giving her permission to look at him. Sylvie scanned over just the right amount of chest hair scattered across his broad torso and tight stomach.

“Oh, my,” burst from her lips as her eyes traced his massive erection that proudly pressed upward. As a doctor, she knew the average size of a male’s penis. Kane’s shaft far overshadowed the average. His low laugh made her eyes jump back to his face in embarrassment. “Honey, I’m glad you like looking at your daddy. Let’s get you clean before you catch a chill.” He set the bottles on the shelf and guided Sylvie into the spray of the warm water. “Let’s start with your hair, honey. Tilt your head back into the water to get it wet.”

Once her hair was dripping wet, he turned her around so that he could spread the thick shampoo on her drenched locks. Taking his time to rub her scalp gently and work the cleanser through the length of her hair, Kane smiled as she moaned her approval of his technique.

When she teetered unsteadily on the wet shower floor, he guided her hands back to hold on to the sides of his hips for stability. Before long, her slippery back and bottom were fully pressed into the warm skin of his body. They both enjoyed the feel of their bodies flush against the other.

Turning her to allow Sylvie to tilt her head back under the showerhead to rinse her hair, Kane automatically stepped forward to allow her arching body to press against him for balance once again. They both groaned as their bodies meshed perfectly with each other. Her long legs presented the valley between her thighs just at the level of his rigid penis. His organ strongly twitched against her sparse brown curls as her pelvis pressed to his. Their torsos pressed against each other as Kane reached around her to coax the suds from her hair. The tips of her small breasts urgently poked into his chest.

Kane gritted his teeth as he focused on taking care of his Little girl. His desires were secondary to tending Sylvie. With her hair free of the sticky hairspray that had secured her hair in the fancy up-do, Kane opened the bubblegum scented body wash. Immediately, the corners of Sylvie’s mouth turned up in a smile.

Happily, she giggled as Kane washed her face, erasing the makeup from her skin. Instantly, she looked younger and more innocent. Kane smiled as his Little girl emerged from the shell of the glamorously dressed physician. She was so beautiful. Unable to resist, Kane pressed a hard kiss to those pink, parted lips.

Passion flared hot between them. Kane deepened the kiss, sweeping into the warmth of her mouth with his tongue. Teasing her tongue with his, Kane blindly spread more of the sweet-smelling soap over her torso. The slick body wash allowed his fingers to slide over her skin easily. Cupping her small breasts, Kane brushed his thumbs roughly over her clenched nipples, drawing a shiver of arousal from the slender woman in front of him.

He kissed a path down her sensitive neck as his fingers washed her lower abdomen. He wrapped one hand around her body to support her lower back as his fingers combed through her sparse pubic hair into her slick, intimate folds. His Little was eager for his touch.

Kane could feel her eager trembling as his fingers explored her. Without urging, her feet moved further apart to allow him to touch her body. When that supporting hand began to spread the sweet body wash between her small buttocks, Sylvie bucked forward against his pelvis. His finger automatically traced down the inner crease of her buttocks to press against her nerve-rich secret entrance.

“Kane?” Sylvie’s voice sounded small and unsure.

“Call me Daddy, honey. It’s okay. Daddies get their Littles clean all over. Even here.” His finger pressed into the tight opening slightly, drawing a gasp in reaction from Sylvie. He could feel her heat rise between her legs as her pelvis pressed hard against him, grinding against his erection. There was no doubt, his Little had a very sensitive bottom.

An Odd Little Girl by J.M. Dabney

“Come here, baby girl,” I ordered as I patted my thighs. “Bring your teddy.” My girl looked like she needed a short nap and backrub. She shuffled toward the couch with her bear swinging at her side from where she held his paw. When she started to sit beside me, I grabbed her hips and shifted her until she fell onto my lap.

Her skirt flew up for a split second exposing white cotton panties, and she sat right on my cock. I was a grown-ass man, I could control myself, and all that mattered to me was easing her discomfort. I could tell her back was stiff. I wrapped my hands around her sides and pushed on her lower spine with the pads of my thumbs.

“Lean forward a bit,” I ordered as I slipped my hands beneath her dress to get to her soft skin. She bent all the way over and hugged her teddy to her. I massaged every knot and paid attention to the spots that seemed to pain her, easing my touch as I focused on them. Her moans traveled over my body as tangible as soft fingertips. The more I worked her muscles, her body went limp, until finally, I sensed she was asleep.

I gently lifted her until she was lying on my chest. I shifted her until I cradled her in my arms with her face buried against my neck. I brought my leg upward to rest my ankle on my knee, and I cupped her bottom in my big hand as I rocked my baby girl. Her stuffie was held tight in the curl of her left arm. She nuzzled and her right hand fisted in my t-shirt at the base of my spine.

A sense of peace came over me at simply having my baby girl cradled in my arms as she slept. I wasn’t ashamed of my sappy smile as I looked down, shifting enough to see her beautiful face. I traced the perfect sweep of her auburn brows and the shadow of her lashes on her rounded cheeks. Her plump lips were slightly parted. I lowered my head the few inches that separated our mouths and brushed the little, sleepy tilt of her lips.

She wiggled in her sleep, and the hem of her dress eased upward exposing her innocent, white panties that hugged the roll of her lower belly. My cock jerked at the nest of dark curls showing through the cotton. The fabric conformed to her plump crease. I tightened my hand on her fleshy hip, and my fingers sunk into the curve as I suppressed the need to wake her up by rubbing her nub. I didn’t touch her, and I wouldn’t play with her little pussy until I heard her beg Daddy to take her.

Before I made her mine, we had to talk about what belonging to me meant. For her, I’d even rein in my Daddy tendencies because she was more important than a title to me. Whether she called me Daddy or not, she’d always be my little girl. After just a few days, she owned me as much I would her.

 

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Book Blitz: Confessions of a Sex Kitten by Mila Rossi #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #bookblitz

Confessions of a Sex Kitten
Mila Rossi
Publication date: August 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Striving to be the sex kitten Avery Taylor portrays on her blog is a lot harder than she imagined, but having a hot, new neighbor move in next door sure gets her imagination going. His green eyes alone would give a girl the vapors. And yet, getting involved with someone so close just isn’t in the cards for Avery, even if her inner kitten is telling her that all rules are meant to be broken once. Or twice. Or as many times as it takes to get familiar with James’s one billion abs.

James Mardin moves to NYC to focus on family and work. Quirky Avery just plops into his life out of nowhere. She’s the last thing he needs, and yet, he can’t seem to stay away from the damsel down the hall, especially after he stumbles upon her secret blog. A sexy goofball lusting after him? It just wouldn’t be proper if he didn’t make her fantasies come true.

With views to die for, neighborly favors to return, and secrets to uncover, James and Avery are in for a treat. The attraction is evident, but is it enough to get them through snarky family remarks, burning buildings, and the heat of a typical New York summer?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

She walked into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and removed her earrings before starting to take off her dress. As she contorted every way possible to reach the zipper in the back, her eyes locked on her neighbor watching TV in the dark. She continued fiddling with her dress, not thinking much of James lounging in his chair, seemingly absorbed in whatever show or movie he was watching, when the light from his television illuminated his bare chest and abs, rising and falling in rapid succession.

She forgot about her dress now hanging down to her hips, and squinted in concentration, trying to get a better look. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned and hung loosely at his sides, while his rolled-up sleeves revealed those forearms she always stared at. What really got her attention though, was the fact that he seemed to be panting.

What in heaven’s name is he doing?

Except for one bare leg, the rest of him was hidden by the television. And then it hit her. He was masturbating, probably to porn. Her pulse started to race and her palms got sweaty as she watched the dark fuzz on his chest and abs move up and down in perfect rhythm. Not even a fire alarm going off could have chased her away from the window, but what could, was James turning his head and locking eyes with her across the distance.

  1. MY. GOD!

She had a split second to give him the courtesy of a blush before she tried to bolt from the window, tripped over her cat, and crashed to the floor with much humiliating noise as her flailing hands knocked over the night lamp. For the next couple of minutes, she remained spread out on the floor like a flattened pancake. The throbbing in her ears turned out to be her heartbeat and her lungs seemed devoid of air as she inhaled deeply, wincing at the pain in her ribs. Roger thankfully seemed unfazed by the fiasco and sat in the corner, licking his tiny jewels.

A knock at the door made her head snap around so quickly, she almost caused further injury to herself.

“Who is it?” she shouted in the most casual voice she could pull off.

“It’s me,” a deep, husky voice replied.

Great, first he catches me spying on him and now this.

“What’s up?”

“Are you alright? I heard a loud noise.”

“No shit,” she mumbled to herself, staring at the ceiling. “I’m fine, thanks!”

“Can you open the door?”

Her eyes darted in his direction.

“Um, I’m getting ready to go to bed.”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, James. Go back to your…apartment.” She’d almost told him to go back to jerking off.

“Open up, Avery, so I can have a look for myself. You looked like you crashed pretty hard.”

Great, so he’d seen her. Good grief.

She shifted with a groan, but managed to pick herself up and head for the door. She stuck her arms through the sleeves of her dress, but didn’t bother with the zipper in the back.

“All fine,” she said, opening the door just a crack to smile at him. Her expression froze as she gaped at his body still displayed in all its glory, except now he wore pants. She had to summon all her control not to run her hands over the hair covering his chest, leading down into his pants.

“Avery,” James said, getting her attention.

She blinked rapidly and looked up at him. “Hm?”

He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

“What are you doing?” she asked alarmed.

“Making sure you’re still in one piece.”

He closed the door and turned her every which way to see if she was bleeding, at least that’s what she assumed he was doing. She winced when his hand ran over her left side and he looked at her concerned.

“You’re hurt.”

“No, I’m not. Nothing a drink or some medicine won’t cure. Maybe both together,” she grumbled as an afterthought.

He looked like he didn’t believe her.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, doing a mini-dance. “See? All good. Now go back home and let me get some sleep.”

He touched her side again and she winced once more.

“What the hell are you doing?” she gritted.

“Proving that you’re a liar.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the sofa. “Sit.”

She gave him an annoyed look.

“Sit, Avery, before I’ll make you.”

“Fine.” She plopped down.

He knelt before her and touched her ribs gingerly, watching for her reaction. “Can you lift your arm?”

She did so and gave him an I-told-you-so look.

“Can you bend side to side?”

She did and felt a tug. “It hurts a little, but not much. I can manage.”

“Good. Then nothing’s broken.”

Her eyes lowered to his hands wrapped around her waist. Her skin was on fire at his touch, even through the fabric of her dress. If this was how her body responded now, she wondered what it’d feel like without any barriers.

His hand slid along her side in what felt decidedly like a caress. “Be more careful next time.”

Confused she stared into his eyes, mere inches from her. “With what?”

“Your choice of entertainment.”

She felt herself blush to the very roots of her hair and cleared her throat. “I didn’t see anything.”

He held her gaze and tightened his grip on her, causing her breath to hitch. “Yes, you did. And you liked it.”

 

Author Bio:

Mila Rossi is a contemporary romance author who writes feel-good stories – no angst here. She creates heroines who don’t back down, stand up for themselves and insist on freedom and independence until the right man comes along. Then all rules are thrown out the window. The heroes must be clever, generous and able to throw a girl over their shoulder.

Mila has seen the world and loves to write about it. She also loves to paint vintage anime characters, belly dance, try new foods and perfect her archery skills. She wishes she could partake in extreme sports but only allows her characters to tempt fate. Her own chances of causing disasters are just too high.

Mila also writes historical romance under the name Alice Lake.

Website / Pinterest / Goodreads

 

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Schoolboy Blues by Kiernan Kelly #ContemporaryRomance #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBTbooks #RockStar @changelingpress @KiernanKelly

School Boy Blues (Set In Stone Multi-Author 6)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox

 

Once best friends, Angelo and Vincent parted after a night of hot passion and conflicting emotions.

Rock star Angelo knows a good thing when he’s got it, and what he has on stage with his band now is as good as it gets. He clings to that knowledge during the times when he longs for the warmth of a lover in his heart and his bed.

Vincent has grown adept at ducking his mother’s probing questions about grandbabies, while dedicating his life to nailing perps to the jailhouse wall in criminal court. His family and his career bring him satisfaction, but he dares not pursue a relationship that would complete his life.

Could the music that led to their parting a decade ago be the bond that brings these two lovers back together again?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

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or Pre-Order for August 23rd

   

 

Praise for School Boy Blues (Set in Stone)

“If you like rock stars and tough prosecutors who share a weak spot for each other, if you enjoy the “magic” of the 1970s, and if you’re looking for a read that is as short as it is hot, occasionally funny, and just a little suspenseful toward the end, then you will probably like this novella.”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kiernan Kelly

Rush groaned, and banged his phone against his forehead a few times in frustration. It would leave a mark, but he didn’t care. Stage makeup was very forgiving. “Fine. We’ll do it, but no interviews. Nobody backstage. No VIPs, no reporters, no fans, nada. I mean it, Bernie. If I hear one fucking question or see one camera, I’ll walk. Understand?”

Bernie’s voice dropped an octave. “Sure, sure. Excellent. I knew you’d see reason. Okay. You fly out on the third, and I’ve booked the band the top floor at the Marriott. The rest of the company will be staying at a Quality Inn. I’ve rented a bus for them, and a limo for you guys. Two shows, Friday and Saturday nights. Any special requests for the hotel rooms or the green room at the Palace?”

“Not from me. Ask the boys what they want.” Rush was done, and just wanted to hang up and go strum his guitar for a while. That always calmed him down, let him think. If he was lucky, the music would flush the sliminess of Bernie’s voice from his ears.

“You got it. It’s going to be an awesome weekend. Ciao.”

Rush hung up without saying good bye. Ciao. As far as Rush knew, Bernie couldn’t even spell ciao. In Bernie’s little pointy head, it was probably spelled “chow.” Bernie didn’t like Italian food, and the closest he’d ever gotten to Italy was when the band dragged his ass to the San Gennaro Feast in Little Italy in New York last September. Pretentious bastard.

He grabbed Cleaver, his acoustic guitar, and flopped on to the sofa in the living room. Cleaver was a sweet maple Gibson he’d bought back in 1962 when he was still in high school, and paid for it with the money he’d made working a paper route. He remembered the first time he saw it hanging in one of the windows at the Woolworths on Main Avenue in Passaic. He thought then it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and still did. Even though he wailed on a Fender onstage, the axe never felt as good in his hands as good ol’ Cleaver did.

There were a lifetime of memories scarring the neck and body. Every nick and scratch had a story to tell. Like the little ding next to the bridge, for example. He remembered exactly how and when it’d been put there — by a carelessly tossed shoe on the night he lost his virginity to Vincenzo Genovese.

A smile lifted his lips even now, as he ran his finger over the dimple in the otherwise smooth wood. God, they’d been so young, their bodies so hard and eager. It’d been over almost as soon as it began, but he could still almost feel the sharpness of his orgasm, how it had ripped through his body like white lightning, searing every part of him. His cock stirred as the old, aching need surfaced again.

And deflated just as quickly as the other memory he associated with Vinnie Genovese surfaced. He rubbed his jaw as if he could still feel Vinnie’s hard fist connecting with it, loosening two teeth.

You were both seventeen, and confused about who you were and what you were feeling. Him more than you. How long are you gonna hold on to that grudge?

Shut up, he told the needling voice in his head. He didn’t want introspection right now. He wanted escape.

Trying to push the negative feelings away, his fingers began to strum the strings. It took several moments before he realized he recognized the tune, although he hadn’t played it in years. It was Schoolboy Blues, the song he’d written for Vinnie. The lyrics came back to him with the melody, and he began to sing, low and sweet.

“Your hands play my body like I play my guitar, drawing out a melody my heart sings; no matter where we are, near or far, I will always love the magic loving you brings.”

He stopped playing, silencing the guitar by pressing his palm over the strings, and ended the song with a wry snort. The lyrics were amateurish, syrupy high school crap, sure, but they still made his throat tighten and brought a curious burning to his eyes.

“Fuck you, Bernie. Why Jersey? Why now?”

 

More from Kiernan at Changeling Press …

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She has fifteen novels currently in print and ebook, and over eighty shorter works available in both mediums. Contrary to popular opinion, she is not a zombie. Yet.

You can find Kiernan on her website at http://www.kiernankelly.com/ or on Facebook or at Cafe Risque http://caferisque.blogspot.com, or you can e-mail the author.

 

 

Like a Thief in the Night by E.D. Parr #GayRomance #NewRelease #LGBT

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Gorgeous, businessman, Saxon Dearing buys a pied de terre in the city where he works. Only using the place on three nights, he goes home to his beachside house for the rest of the week. At thirty-two, immersed in his work, he doesn’t know he’s lonely until delicious, twenty-five year old Jon Palmer literally drops into his life during a thunderstorm.

Artist Jon struggles to sell his paintings from a tiny studio, and works in a city gallery to pay his rent. As the two men fall in love, Jon can’t overcome the idea his lack of success is a barrier to telling handsome, wealthy Saxon how he feels.

When his boss offers him a dangerous way of making money, Jon must make a choice.

Will he risk telling Saxon he loves him or let his lack of confidence lead him astray and away from the man who loves him, too?

 

Today we welcome, Saxon Dearing one of the heroes

 

I’ll make this interview fun…

 

Saxon, If you were a dessert, what would you be?

 

(Laughs) A dessert … well I know Jon likes ginger cookies, but that’s not really a dessert, huh? Okay I know, lemon meringue pie, yeah.

 

What do you do when you need to blow off steam?

 

If I’m in the city I go to the gym and beat the crap out of a punch bag. If I’m at the beach house, I run on the beach, although I do keep to the wet sand and I like to wear my iPod

 

What do you look for in a man?

 

Nothing now I’ve met Jon. He’s perfect for me. I love him. He’s intelligent, creative, good-looking, sexy, sweet … I could go on all day about him.

 

What is in your refrigerator right now?

 

In the city, steak, lettuce, cherry tomatoes … a half pack of beer, what else … a red pepper. There’s not that much because Jon and I are going up to the beach house tonight.

 

What’s on your bedroom floor?

 

In the city, my old baseball bat, that’s under the bed.

 

What do you wear in bed?

 

Depends what I’m doing (smiles) so it ranges from a t-shirt and boxers to nothing … (smiles again) mostly nothing now

 

Light on or off?

 

Either, both

 

Chocolate or vanilla?

 

Is that for licking off Jon’s abs? Has to be chocolate.

 

What’s your biggest fear?

 

Oh, well, I have to think about that for a second. I could say spiders or losing on the stock market but truth is it’s losing Jon’s love. It would break my heart.

 

What is your most treasured possession?

 

After the last question … Jon’s not my possession but I treasure him. If it has to be a possession, then it’s a drawing Jon gave me … he’s an artist.

 

What’s your favorite outfit?

 

I have some old faded levis and beaten up leather boots that I rely on when I’m not in suits. I usually throw on a t-shirt and my battered leather jacket over the top. I have to wear suits for work. I like my black one best.

 

What do you like to see Jon dressed in?

 

Anything he likes, (his eyes mist a little) although I do like him in the tux he wore for our wedding, and in his ripped jeans, because there’s a frayed bit high on his thigh…

 

Do you have a favorite music track?

 

My taste and surprisingly Jon’s too, is eclectic. We’re listening to old Coldplay stuff right now … love them.

 

Tell the readers something you’ve never told anyone before.

 

(Grins) What? You mean spill a secret? You do. (Takes a deep breath) I have nothing for you, nope not a thing…

 

We’ll make that the last question. Thanks for visiting. Where are you off to next?

 

(Smiles) You know that’s another question, right?

 

We have a story teaser for you from, Like a Thief in the Night

Jon struggled into a sitting position. “What time is it?”

Saxon shook his head. “I don’t know, but maybe nine or ten.” Saxon sat up.

“Hell, not ten please.” Jon leaped from the bed and dashed to his backpack where he snatched a smartphone from the front zipper pocket. He ran his hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. It stood on end at the front. He cast a glance at Saxon. “It’s nine. I start at nine-thirty. I’m sorry, I have to dash.”

“It’s okay. Will I make you a coffee while you dress?”

“Thanks for thinking of me, but I’ll make a cup at the gallery.” He ran into the bathroom and came out moments later in the jeans and sweater Saxon had seen him wearing the night before. He dropped a pair of boots to the floor and zipped up his fly as he pushed bare feet into them.

Saxon gazed at the spectacle. He got out of bed and walked rapidly to the kitchen remembering Jon’s jacket was draped over the back of a chair. He brought it to Jon.

Jon rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you. Is it okay to leave my pajamas in the bathroom?” He slipped his jacket on and grabbed up his backpack.

To Saxon’s surprise and delight, Jon kissed him by the side of his mouth.

“See you tonight. Thank you so much.” He strode to the door, opened it, and left.

Saxon went to the bathroom and picked up Jon’s pajamas. He hung them from a hook on the door and dragged on his robe from the other hook. Jon’s socks lay in a damp bunch on the floor next to the shelf housing towels. His boots must leak. Concern furrowed his brow. He put the socks in the laundry hamper. They can go in the wash. I’ll get coffee first. I’ve missed early trading. Perhaps it doesn’t matter this once. Saxon hummed as he heaped coffee grains into the filter. An unfamiliar deep happiness bubbled in him.

Copyright E. D. Parr 2019, Evernight Publishing

 

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JACE
When Sinful Seduction made it big, my life changed, and not always in awesome ways. The groupies were great at first, until one decided to fake a pregnancy and claim the kid was mine. My bandmates had my back, and while the woman backed down fast when I demanded a paternity test, it still shook me. I knew it was time for another change, one where I kept my pants zipped. And then I saw her across the bar… the goddess with golden waves, and her sexy little librarian outfit. I knew she was different, and I wanted to make her mine. Should have known better than to get drunk in Vegas. You know how they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. But maybe this time my mistake will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

HONEY
I dumped my cheating fiancée, hopped a plane to Vegas, and hit the latest writer’s convention. On what should have been my wedding day, I was throwing back drinks like they were fruit punch. To be fair, they probably had fruit punch in them. When I woke up the next morning with a hard body pressed to mine, and a silver band on a very important finger, I thought I’d screwed up more than ever before. Imagine my surprise when the wannabe rocker I married turned out to be even more famous than me — and wait for it — he wanted to stay married! Even with a battered heart, I still believed in happily-ever-after, but what could a rock star and a romance author have in common?

Chemistry… Intense, curl your toes, melt your panties chemistry. Relationships have been based on worse, right?

*WARNING: If you don’t like foul-mouthed bad boys, lots of hot sex, and an accidental marriage, then you should probably skip this book.

 

Still not sure it’s the right book for you? Keep reading for a sneak peek…

 

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Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

JACE

I stared into the crowd, their faces and writhing bodies a blur under the multi-hued lights. Sweat rolled down my temples and my spine as the lyrics poured out of me, more out of habit than passion. Fierce Seduction had been at the top of the charts for the past year as we’d toured the country. My fingers flew over the strings of my guitar, the riffs to the songs coming as easy as the women screaming my name. I couldn’t look at them without seeing her face, the stupid cunt who thought she was going to catch herself a one-way ticket to stardom.

It had been the week from hell. A groupie I’d fucked nearly a damn year ago contacted my manager, threatening to go public if I didn’t pay her a million dollars to keep quiet. She claimed the baby she’d had two weeks before was my son, but I knew better. I was super fucking cautious when it came to fucking the whores who threw themselves at me. I not only wore a condom, but I usually pulled out too. No way in hell I was getting trapped by some gold-digging bitch.

Fuck. Would this concert never end? We were playing Vegas, and the venue was sold out. It was our last show before heading home on Monday. The band had agreed we’d play Friday night, then fuck around for two days on the strip before flying back to L.A. Best fucking idea ever. I wasn’t big into gambling, but the bar at the Bellagio was calling my name. I was certain they had several bottles of vodka with my name on them. I just hadn’t decided if I was celebrating the fact that the kid wasn’t mine or trying to drown myself over the fuckery that was my life. When you’d fucked enough women that they all blurred together, and your reputation was so tattered those same women thought they could blackmail you, then maybe it was time to get off the merry-go-round.

The last few bars of the song played out, our final for this show, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell off the stage. The fans screamed and catcalled, all of them wanting a piece of us. It had been a thrill a minute when the stardom had first hit. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been, or that we were finally riding the top of the charts. There was this huge rush when we took the stage, or when some hot college girl tossed her panties at me, or better yet, informed me she wasn’t wearing any. I’d definitely earned my reputation as a panty dropper. I’d been proud as hell of the way women fawned all over me, until that wake-up call last week. Nothing can kill your buzz quicker than some chick claiming she got knocked up with your kid, some faceless stranger you fucked and forgot. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever learned her name before bending her over.

Backstage, I snagged a bottle of water and guzzled the entire damn thing. Tossing it into the trash, I braced myself for what came next. The adoring fans who had backstage passes. A VIP room had been set up for the occasion, and I knew those women only wanted one thing. To lay claim to one of us for the night, hell, even for an hour.

“You in a hurry to get your dick wet?” Simon asked with a leer. “A room full of free pussy, and it’s all ours for the taking.”

“I’m signing some autographs then I’m getting the fuck out of here,” I said as I stormed down the hallways toward a fate worse than death.

“Since when do you turn away free pussy?”

“Since Rochelle.” I’d tried not to utter that cunt’s name, but it was ingrained in my memory ever since I’d gotten the letter from her attorney.

Simon winced. “That was some rotten luck, but it all worked out. You demanded that paternity test and proved her to be the fucking liar that she is. You’re not going to let one woman fuck with your head like that, are you?”

I shrugged and pushed through the doors to the VIP room. The squeals and shrieks assaulted my ears as about six pairs of hands reached for me. Revulsion rolled through me as I looked at their too-heavy makeup and skin tight clothes. Why had I ever been attracted to women like these? They were desperate and didn’t care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Me.

Signing whatever they thrust my way—paper, water bottles, boobs—I finally made my way through the crowd and out the doors on the opposite side. When I rushed outside of the venue, I ignored the screaming fans, trusting that security would keep them off my back while I disappeared into the night. I took several detours, making sure I wasn’t followed, and finally arrived at the Bellagio. I’d stayed here before when I wasn’t touring with the band, and as I stepped inside, it felt like the building was welcoming me back. The place was packed, but I managed to find a spot at the end of the bar. Hopefully out of sight of everyone but the bartender.

I motioned for him to come over and ordered six shots of vodka. They burned on the way down as I slammed one after another. It would take a hell of a lot more to get me shitfaced, but it was a decent start. The next hour blurred as I downed everything from vodka to whiskey to Jagermeister.  I felt warm, and loose, and completely blissed out by the time I noticed her.

My eyes took in the neat updo and the prim glasses perched on her nose. The way she sipped at the fruity drink in front of her made me think this wasn’t her usual scene. The dress she had on was sexy yet sedate. Fuck if she didn’t make me burn hotter than the god damn sun. Her lips, a succulent berry color, fit around the straw of her red drink, and I watched as her gaze flitted around the room. The jackass next to her was so fucking drunk he nearly knocked her off the barstool twice, earning the creep a glare that would have made a cross nun proud. I half expected her to whip out a ruler and rap his knuckles with it.

Whoever this angel was, I knew I wanted to find out more about her, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to do that sitting way over here. I shouldered my way through the crowd and shoved the drunk off his stool before claiming it for myself. She blinked up at me in surprise, the blue depths of her eyes pulling me in. The angel licked her lips as she leaned a little closer.

Holy Hell.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a slight slur to her words. Just how many of those drinks had she had?

“I won’t knock you off your stool, but I can’t promise I won’t sweep you off your feet.”

What. The. Fuck. Did that shit really just come out of my mouth?

She giggled, and her cheeks flushed pink. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She had this sexy librarian vibe going and my fingers itched to get her out of that dress. Was she wearing plain cotton underneath or something lacy and hot as fuck? I’d never chased a woman before, but this little beauty was enough to knock me to my knees. Yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of…

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Honey.”

My eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Honeysuckle. My mother was a hippy.”

Oh yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of Honey.

“Jace,” I said, holding out my hand.

 

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Indulge Me (Wanna Be Bad) by Tina Donahue #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #Contemporary @tinadonahue @evernightpub

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Nothing forbidden…nothing held back.

Lissa prefers reading to cutting loose, but is willing to do whatever it takes to get the juiciest assignments for her job at a major travel magazine. Her chance finally arrives. She’s set to experience a posh Caribbean resort, a dream article and review except for one huge problem. It’s the anything goes theme week where nudity is expected and lusty hook-ups make threesomes look downright tame. Holy Hell. What has she gotten herself into?

Precisely what resort owner Jon Thorne thinks. Tall, dark, and luscious, he fears the randy male guests will eat her alive, resulting in a lousy review. His only option is to serve as her guide for every decadent delight from nude body painting to Dom’s Den where submission and punishment rule. Unless she wants to call the whole thing off…

And lose her chance with him, plus give up this gig? Dream on. Tempted beyond anything she’s known, she matches his passion and then some, surprising him during a sexy adventure like no other.

Teaser 5 - INDULGEME

 

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Teaser 1 - INDULGEME

 

A LITTLE TEASE…

“The writer from the travel magazine is here.”

“Send him in.”

“Ah … okay.”

Her hesitation surprised him.

His door opened.

Shelby entered first, model tall and slender, dressed in a light green sheath that complemented her long, blonde hair. Her pretty face could have graced a teen magazine, the faint freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks adding to her youthful appearance.

She stepped aside.

A young woman stood behind her, her hair shoulder-length and partially pulled back. Several tresses hung free from her ponytail. The chestnut color proved rich, a contradiction to her pale complexion.

While her clothing…

Her loose-fitting beige pants and long-sleeved white top weren’t on par with the “anything goes” theme week, but the extensive material didn’t completely hide her curves.

He dragged his gaze back up to her glasses. They gave her an intelligent and serious vibe that also didn’t belong on this island.

She regarded the tan marble and gold trimming in here, graceful eyebrows arching.

The opulence was more than he preferred but impressed the partners. Confused as to why she’d followed Shelby inside, he glanced at her and mouthed, “who is she?”

She mouthed, “The writer.”

No way. He’d expected a guy. In fact, he needed an uber-extroverted one for a great review during the anything goes week, which got down and dirty fast. Not a woman who dressed like a librarian attending a spiritual retreat.

As a rule, he never judged. Taking a second look, he was surprised to find her pretty, her brown or hazel eyes and pouty mouth holding promise as to the possible fire smoldering inside. Possible being the operative word. She hadn’t breezed into here confident and ready for sin. Not a good sign for her enjoying the intimate events at the resort.

Shelby cleared her throat. “Lissa, this is Jon Thorne, the owner. Jon, this is Lissa Nelms, the writer from Exploration magazine.”

Lissa regarded the plush leather chairs, sofa, and his massive desk, then met his gaze.

Her cheeks pinked up, as they hadn’t earlier, lips parting, surprise or wonder flooding her features.

He wasn’t certain why her reaction to him was so intense … except it looked genuine. Maybe. Ever since Mackenzie had put one over on him, after the years they’d spent together, he couldn’t be sure about anything. Remembering his manners, he stood.

After taking him in from top to bottom, Lissa returned to his mouth, then his eyes. “Good afternoon.”

Her voice was surprisingly throaty. Sexy as hell.

His face and chest heated, a first during a business meeting or with any woman. Even those who’d been attracted to him hadn’t shown the same awe she did. Flattering, sure, but still… “Hi.” He rounded his desk and offered his hand.

She gripped it firmly, her fingers softer than a rose petal, her fragrance subtly sweet, gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

Nice. He stroked her thumb.

Her face flamed.

Time to stop touching her.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels were Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

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