Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerromance #newadult #olderhero #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

I’m not the kind of man to give a woman a fairy tale ending.
But for Rin, I’m willing to try.

 

Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Christmas, MC Romance, New Adult
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Rin — My mom died when I was little, and my dad followed when I was fifteen. My half-brother, the nastiest human being I’ve ever met, convinced people to grant him custody. More likely he bribed people. My life has been hell since then. Every time I try to run, he finds me, tortures me, and makes sure I toe the line. This time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. If they turn me away, I’m as good as dead, but even that’s preferable to what my half-brother has planned for me next.

I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes. The man who defended me only seconds after laying eyes on me. The man who makes me want things I’ve never wanted before. I knew better than to sleep with him, knew I wasn’t good enough. When he rejects me, I run. Discovering several weeks later that he left a little part of himself inside of me is even more terrifying than my half-brother finding me.

Wraith — I’m not the settling down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. While I was serving overseas, my sister was left for dead in a gutter. I failed her. Failed my parents, who made me promise to protect her before they breathed their last. Now I’m faced with Rin, the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She needs a protector, and I’ll gladly be that for her. I want her. Want to keep her and make her mine. I’ve fucked my share of women over the years, but I’ve never made love to one. Until her. But I’m no good for her, or anyone else. She thinks she’s not worthy of me, but it’s the other way around. Then she runs and I feel like a piece of my soul has been ripped out. Finding her won’t be easy, but I won’t stop until she’s back in my home, in my bed. And I’ll make sure that every asshole who ever laid a hand on her is buried six feet under or rotting in prison. No one will ever hurt her again.

It never occurred to me that I would be the asshole to hurt her. I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, but now I really need one. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Warning: Bondage. Spanking. Anal sex. Over the top, melt your e-reader, make your panties wet sex. If you don’t like those things, this book probably isn’t for you.

 

Now Available at Changeling Press

Pre-Order at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo for December 7th

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

Approaching the gates, I rubbed my hands up and down my denim-clad thighs. I shivered in the cold air despite the sun shining brightly. It might be the south, but it was also five weeks until Christmas and cold as hell. Thanksgiving had passed just two days ago, and the weather had changed drastically almost overnight. My threadbare coat didn’t provide much protection as the wind whipped my hair around me and sent icy chills down my body. A man was leaning against a booth near the gate, and when I approached, he straightened to a rather imposing height. Then again, I was barely five feet tall, so pretty everyone was taller than me.

I didn’t recognize him, but I did know the look he had in his eyes. It was the same one I saw every time my brother had introduced me to someone he deemed important. I hated that fucking look, but I bit my tongue because I needed help, and I’d do almost anything to escape my brother. It’s not like this guy would ask me for something I hadn’t been forced to do already.

“I need to see Johnny or Kayla,” I said as I stopped in front of the gate.

His gaze took me in from head to toe. “Are they expecting you?”

“No, but it’s important.”

He stared at me for what felt like forever before opening the gate. As I stepped inside, his hand closed around my arm and he drew me to a halt.

“Need to check you for weapons,” he said with a leer.

Yeah. I just bet he did. I spread my arms out, even though it made me colder. His hands went under my coat and lingered a little too long at my breasts before working down my body. When he pushed my legs apart and brought them up the insides of my thighs, I clamped my legs shut before he could go too high.

“Have to check everywhere,” he said.

“Robby, what the fuck are you doing?” a man asked as he came toward us.

“She asked to see Kayla and Saint. Making sure she’s not carrying any weapons,” Robby said.

The guy eyed me up and down and shook his head.

“First of all, Preacher isn’t letting an unknown person anywhere near his wife and kids. Second, if you think Saint can’t handle a tiny-ass woman like her, I’ll be happy to let him know it.”

Robby paled. “Sorry, Gears.”

The man I now knew was called Gears held out a hand to me. And from that little bit of conversation, it seemed Johnny was now known as Saint. It fit him. Even back in high school, he’d tried to save people. I was counting on that, hoping he’d be willing to save me too.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you out of this cold weather and I’ll find Saint for you,” the man called Gears said.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, trying to stop my teeth from chattering.

He led me up the steps of a building across the lot and held the door open for me. Heat made my cheeks sting and it felt like thousands of needles were stabbing me as my body adjusted to the toasty air. Gears led me over to a small table near the bar and pulled out a chair for me.

“Sit here and I’ll see where Saint is. Who do I tell him is here?”

“Rin. From the old neighborhood,” I said.

He nodded and went to the other side of the room before pulling out his phone. I couldn’t hear anything he said, but he cast a few glances my way. While I waited for him to come back, I surveyed the area. I’d always wondered what the Dixie Reapers compound looked like from inside the fence. This building wasn’t quite the way I’d pictured it, and I could imagine a lot of wild parties within the walls. I knew those parties had never used the girls my brother pimped out, though, so whatever women hooked up with the men here did so of their own free will.

The door opened again and two more men came in wearing the leather vests all the bikers wore around town. One in particular drew my attention. His hair was dark, and he had a beard that made me itch to feel it, see if it was as soft as it looked. But his eyes were hard, the kind of eyes I’d seen on soldiers and men who had killed for a living. He moved with lethal grace and came to tower over me. I’d learned long ago to let my shoulders droop a little and hunch a bit to seem smaller when confronted with large, scary men.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man next to him asked.

My gaze jerked over to him and widened a little. The man was huge and more than just a little intimidating.

“Rin,” I said softly.

“No outsiders allowed,” he said. “If you’re here to party, you’re shit out of luck. It’s family time until the holidays. Whores can come back after the new year.”

I swallowed hard and lowered my gaze. Of course he’d call me that. It’s what my brother had made me, and I struggled to get up. I couldn’t seem to make my legs work quite right, those prickling needles still stabbing me as my body thawed out, and I kept falling back into the chair.

“Why are you here?” the other man asked, his tone softer.

“Does it matter, Wraith?” the bigger man asked. “She’s trespassing.”

I heard Gears come up behind me. “She’s looking for Saint, but he’s not answering his phone, and no one has seen him. Even Preacher and Kayla don’t know where he is.”

“Why do you want to see Saint?” Wraith asked.

“I need help. We went to high school together. I knew…” I stopped and looked at each of them. “I knew that Kayla escaped our neighborhood and that she was living here. I thought maybe the twins could keep me safe.”

Wraith hunkered down in front of me, his gaze assessing. “Safe from what?”

“My brother,” I said softly. “Half-brother. He’s not a nice man and he… he plans to sell me to a brothel in Mexico. I overheard him on the phone.”

“Son of a bitch,” Gears muttered. “I knew you looked familiar.”

My eyes widened as I looked up at him. He knew who I was? Who my brother was? Did that mean he would help, or would they ask me to leave? My heart started to race and my hands clenched. If they kicked me out, I had nowhere else to go.

“How do you know her?” the big, scary man asked.

“She’s Joe Banner’s sister,” Gears said. “She’s the one Officer Daniels was worried about. Tank, we can’t send her back out there.”

“Officer Daniels talked to you about me?” I asked, my brow furrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he come to them?

“Who is Joe Banner?” Wraith asked.

“The local pimp. He runs things on the other end of town,” Gears said.

I wanted to curl into myself and disappear, especially when Wraith focused on me again. I’d never felt so dirty or ashamed as I did in that moment. A gorgeous man like him wouldn’t want to be near someone tainted like me. I would have tried standing again, but he was too close. I wouldn’t be able to get up without touching him.

“You work for your brother?” Wraith asked.

Tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them fall as I nodded.

“Told you she was a whore,” Tank said.

Wraith pushed my hair behind my ear and forced me to look at him. “You work for him willingly? Or does he have some sort of hold over you?”

“He was my guardian until I turned eighteen, but every time I try to run, he finds me. This was my last chance to get away. I don’t…” I swallowed hard. “I never wanted to work for him. I didn’t ask for any of those things to be done to me, but I wasn’t given a choice.”

“She’s not a whore, Tank,” Wraith said as he stood. “She’s a victim. You going to turn your back on a woman in need?”

 

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When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

harleywylde.com

 

Don’t Hold Back by Lynn Burke#BDSM #RomanceBooks #OlderHero #Contemprary @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come
with submitting her body—and heart?…

Don't Hold Back (Darkest Desires 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Dark Desire,
Silver Fox (older man), 2nd Chance Romance

Kelly Sadel has lived her life by a feels-o-meter since showing emotion as a kid was a big no-no. A timid analyst and fur baby momma, she avoids anything that stirs up her boring life. Secretly, she crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning—he’s a unicorn amidst an office full of conservative short-hairs. He also sets her nerves on edge, topping her feels-o’meter to the limit, an oh-no in her carefully constructed world.

Accidentally dumping a box of cupcakes on his loafers grabs his unwanted attention, and he isn’t too quick to let go.

Jamison Byrne has worked his way through the submissives at Monique’s club hoping to find his own little subbie. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy mutual pleasure his ropes bring without getting emotionally involved beyond scening.

Manipulation comes easy from years of life beneath a narcissistic asshole’s thumb, and Jamison finally gets Kelly to relent—but with her only agreeing to be friends. Jamison sweeps in but finds his feet swept beneath him as her nurturing nature opens him in ways he never expected. Sure he has found his “person,” he needs to find a way to share his darker desires and get Kelly to stop holding back and feel. He knows he can set her free, but does she want him to? Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come with submitting her body—and heart?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Lynne Burke

Kelly

The best part of being an analyst for Kirchoff Energy on the third floor of the office building in downtown Baltimore? Jamison Byrne in all his hot arrogance often hopped aboard the elevator, heading to the fourth floor for Davidoff Finance Corp.

Easily six feet or maybe an inch taller, he was a golden blondie with dark, piercing eyes and full lips that needed to be nibbled. Along with that, he had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and the most perfectly formed backside.

But he wasn’t my type. Nope. I preferred sweet, shy nerds. Not that I dated much. To be honest, I’d had two dates in the previous two years. Sure, I had the usual social media profiles, but the thoughts of signing up for one of those dating sites scared the crap out of me. Friendships were all fine and good — as long as I didn’t have to stomach strong feelings. I couldn’t handle them.

But Jamison… I drooled over him every morning I was lucky enough to share the elevator with him — and the other half-dozen people who stuffed in with us. He carried this mysterious air, a confidence that attracted yet repelled me at the same time. In an office of conservative short hairs, he had longer locks and kept scruff on his jaw… he even smelled damn delicious. A true unicorn in a field of rhinos.

He also set my nerves on edge.

I’d never spoken to him, never touched him, but my hands shook and knees weakened whenever he stepped into the elevator. I’d heard rumors from my co-workers on Friday that the hottie from Davidoff Financial upstairs modeled for romance novel covers. The idea didn’t surprise me — he had the body and look for it — and boy, did I enjoy looking.

Not that I wanted him.

On Monday, one of my coworkers celebrated her fiftieth birthday, so I stopped by a bakery to get black-icing cupcakes. I carried the white box in front of me, so scared of dropping the damn thing that I didn’t take care when entering the elevator. Thinking I’d gone in far enough, I turned, and nailed the person shuffling in behind me with the box.
White cardboard — flimsy as shit — flew from my hands, and in slow motion just like a cartoon, it fell to the floor as I leapt toward the damn thing. “Shit! No!” I bit off the word as the box landed on leather loafers I knew well.

Heat crept up my chest, and I quickly squatted without lifting my head, pushing up my too-big glasses. “I’m so sorry!” I grabbed at the scattered cupcakes, smearing frosting all over my fingers — and his shoes.

“It’s okay.” That low, rumbly tone swept down my spine, straight to the loneliest place on earth, springing dampness to life between my thighs. “Let me help.”

Jamison Byrne in all his slow, seductive sexiness, crouched down in front of me, his jeans tightening across his thighs and showcasing a bulge worth drooling over. No wonder he modeled for romance novels.

My mouth watered, and I snapped my jaw shut to swallow, realizing I stared at his groin. My God. Pure heat flooded my face as the elevator door slid shut with only two others stepping in the join us in the mess I’d made.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” I told him as our fellow patrons of the elevator shuffled around to stay away from the mess.

Jamison picked up a cupcake and dropped it in the askew box beside me, icing coating one of his fingers.

I wanted to lick it off. No, I just wanted his finger in my mouth.

My insides trembled like a bowl of gelatin, like the final leaves on the trees outside, and I refused to lift my gaze to his face. He was a mere three feet away, if I looked into his eyes, my insides would be wrecked, flooded with feelings topping out my feels-o-meter with its ten limit.

I leaned forward to grab the last cupcake at the same time he did. Our hands brushed, and lightening split my mind, tearing a gasp past my lips. My attention jerked up, my gaze landing on his face.

Dark eyes, so black they should have looked like a shark’s, with a dead and unfeeling gaze. But the intensity of his stare, the heat in those orbs pebbled my skin. My jaw slackened. Brain erupted in chaos, my feels-o-meter spiking beyond a mere ten.

He glanced at the ID hanging around my neck. “Kelly Sadel.”

Did I nod? I couldn’t remember, but I became very conscious of the fact my low-cut blouse revealed the girls spilling from my bra.

“Jamison Byrne.” He held out his hand.

“Y-yes, I know.” My voice shook as badly as my hands as I lifted up a bit to lessen the peek show and then shoved the box’s lid down, rudely ignoring his hand. No way in hell I could touch the man again. He’d already ruined a pair of my panties. “I mean — I don’t know. Er… well, I’ve heard of you, that is. Mr. Byrne of Davidoff Financial.”

His chuckle lit all kinds of butterflies in my stomach, and a shaky smile pullaed at my lips as I fought to control the turmoil in my brain.

“I’m sorry.” Heat flooded my cheeks anew. “I’m so, so sorry.” I struggled to stand, my purse dangling from my forearm, the wrecked box in my hands, my glasses tilting again. “I don’t even have a tissue to offer you for your shoes and I should. Allergy season, you know? The ragweed kills me every time this year.” The box wobbled in my shaking arms.

Jamison grasped my elbow and steadied me, jerking my gaze up to his face again. He towered over my five-foot-two, and his divine scent, spice with a hint of wintergreen… it stuck to my nose, coated my lungs. I couldn’t breathe him in deeply enough.

G-good God. So pretty. So golden. Beautiful, beautiful, boy…

“Steady?” he asked, his lush-looking lips still smiling.

I nodded like a dumb idiot even though I would much rather have said no in the hope his warm hold on my elbow would linger. What would that large hand feel like sliding up my arm to grasp my nape? Would I swoon if he lowered his head and swept his lips over mine? Lips, perfectly bowed and pink… soft looking. Delicious, actually —

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Behind the Iron Cross by Nicola Cameron #historical #darkromance #erotic @YesItsNicolaC

In the hedonistic wonderland of Cabaret-era Berlin…

…where money can buy you anything you desire…

…and love comes with a pink rose and a practiced smile…

The year is 1923, the Great War is over, and Berlin has become the manic playground of Europe’s elite. Against a glittering background of nightclubs and hot jazz, a sensual American heiress, a wounded playboy, and a desperate German army officer forge a decadent pact of pleasure. But their nights of uninhibited passion soon lead to a forbidden emotional connection, one that will threaten their future … and their lives.

Excerpt available here.

  • Historical Romance, Erotic Romance, MMF
  • Word Count: 105,000
  • Heat Level 4
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Where to Buy

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Smashwords


Excerpt

Kat followed her men, feeling incredibly relaxed and happy. All of her worries about Schoengraff, the wedding, and her future at Tracy Electric felt like they had been trapped behind a thick, clear wall. She knew they were still there, of course, but they didn’t plague her at all.

And seeing both Friedrich and Sam’s trousers bulging from the kissing and canoodling in the hubble-bubble den was doing wonderful things to her own desire. As soon as the car started moving Sam fell on the colonel like a hungry beast, mashing their mouths together and driving his tongue between Friedrich’s lips. His hand snaked down, cupping the German’s undoubtedly aching cock and squeezing it.

It seemed only right to join in. She leaned closer to Friedrich, pressing her breast against his arm as she nibbled and sucked on his earlobe, whispering filthy things into his ear. He gave Sam a last kiss and turned to her, groaning as she undid a button on his shirt and slid her fingers inside to caress the skin there.

Sam moved back in, biting at Friedrich’s neck then soothing the sting with a lick. A fleeting thought crossed Kat’s mind, a wish to have both of her beautiful men naked and in bed with her. All three of them creating a tangle of bodies and limbs, so close that no one could tell where one ended and another began, and to hell if it shocked all of Bridgeport and its stuffy, stodgy society.

At some point the car stopped and the door opened, Horst looming in the opening. The next thing Kat knew they were up in the suite. How, she had no idea, but she was absolutely delighted by it. She led her men into her bedroom, kicking off her shoes as she went.

Laughing, Friedrich fell on Sam, pushing him into the bed and kissing him greedily, opening his mouth to the American’s. “You feel so good,” he said softly, dropping soft kisses over the other man’s chin, cheeks, nose. “Why do you feel so damned good?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad I do,” Sam murmured. “You feel even better, angel.”

“Mmm.” Friedrich writhed, rubbing against Sam’s lean body. “Too many clothes.”

“I can help with that,” Kat said. She started unbuttoning his shirt, laughing as her fingers fumbled on the tiny mother of pearl discs.

Friedrich stared up at her, naked adoration on his face. He lifted a hand, brushing her cheek with a tender finger that sent shivers down her spine. “You’re so beautiful, Kätzchen. So strong, like a goddess.”

Kätzchen—kitten. Tonight, she would accept that once-hated nickname, especially since he finished up by calling her a goddess. “Clothes, colonel. Let’s get you out of them.”

She quickly stripped him, leaving him naked and gorgeous on the fine sheets while Sam fumbled with his own clothes. Friedrich looked down at his magnificent cock, already hard and pearling a drop of pleasure at the tip, and laughed at it. Sam joined in, and Kat followed. Everything felt wonderful.

The men rolled into each other’s arms and started kissing again, hands roaming muscular bodies and caressing, squeezing, stroking as she watched. It was wickedly delicious, the sight of these two beautiful creatures pleasuring each other. She stripped slowly, reveling in the heightened sensation of her skin as it was exposed to the room’s cool air. She dropped her chemise, then her corselet to the carpet, peeling off the fine silk stockings last and draping them around her neck like a stole. They caught on the chain there. Mustn’t snag the stockings. There were things she could do with them, wonderfully dark and heady things.

She unhooked the chain and tossed it and the key onto the bedside table. Crawling onto the bed, she gently pushed Friedrich onto his back and away from Sam, slithering down into his arms. “My turn,” she purred.

His eyes were thin rings of blue around wide black centers, the eyes of a child on Christmas morning who had just seem the mountain of presents awaiting him. “So beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

She stroked his cheek, feeling the fine prickle of his beard. “So are you, my colonel. The most beautiful man, isn’t he, Sam?”

“Oh, yes,” Sam said thickly, kissing his way down Friedrich’s chest. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

She wanted to kiss Friedrich again, taste his mouth, feel his tongue dancing slickly around hers as they shared breath and heat. A faint voice in the back of her head murmured something in a warning tone, something about discipline and too much indulgence. She didn’t care. She wanted this beautiful man, and she was going to have him.

 

Throwback Thursday: A Gift of the Darkest Magic by Ashlynn Monroe #vampires #PNR #eroticromance #darkromance #TBT @ashlynn_monroe

Would you be willing to betray the person you love in order to save their life?

Clarissa’s husband Matt is dying of cancer. They’ve tried everything that medicine has to offer, both traditional and experimental, and nothing’s worked. Clarissa spends her days in the hospital, watching the man she loves slip closer and closer to certain death.

When her sister tells her she knows a way to save Matt, but it involves visiting a local club run by vampires, Clarissa is outraged that her sister would believe something so insane. But then she learns the truth.

Braden, the sexy and mysterious vampire who runs the club, does indeed have the means to save Matt, but he demands a high payment in return. He doesn’t want money, her blood, or even her life…he wants something she never expected. Clarissa has a choice—spend twenty-four hours in Braden’s bed or let her husband die.

But what she never foresaw was how much more the vampire would truly want after he’d given her the gift of the darkest magic.

Content Warning: infidelity, light bondage, anal sex, and rough sex

 

Available at Beachwalk Press

 

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(c) 2012, Ashlynn Monroe

The quiet drip of the IV and the occasional bleep of the monitor were the only sounds in the dim hospital room. Clarissa Blair held the cold hand of her husband, Matthew. Matt’s diagnosis of cancer, just after Christmas, had been a horrible surprise. His condition rapidly deteriorated. The vibrant forty-year-old lay reduced to a thin husk, wasting away in the small room on the fourth floor of Mercy General Hospital. Clarissa could only wait and mourn quietly. She’d tried to hide her pain and stay positive for Matt, but it was getting harder to pretend as he slipped closer to the end of his life.

Their twin seven-year-old daughters spent a lot of time with her mother. She didn’t want them to remember their father as the corpse she saw each day when she came to the hospital after work. Her life was a cycle of working and grieving. She knew the girls missed her, but she just didn’t have the strength to be there for them and keep up with the day-to-day battle of holding herself together. Matt was leaving them.

The sound of the door opening roused her from the dark, sad thoughts. She stood up and hugged the visitor. “Hi, sis.”

Caren, her younger sister, breezed into the room smelling of sunshine and fresh air, in contrast to the stale stench of death she’d come to associate with her husband’s hospital room. “How is he today?”

Her sister’s sadness only added to the weight in Clarissa’s heart. “About the same. The nurse said last night was tough, but he pulled through. He’s a strong fighter.” She knew the last words sounded bitter. He was the strongest man she’d ever known; she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t beat the disease ravaging him. His once handsome face was pale and sunken. Her Matt had left long ago, leaving the dying man in his place. Her Matt would never have abandoned her and their daughters as this man was doing.

For a long moment, Caren looked into her face. She knew Caren wanted to say something, but was holding back.

“Go ahead and say what’s on your mind. You’re always so afraid of saying something that’ll make me cry. I’m past that stage now. Just talk, you’re irritating me.” She knew her shrill statement bordered on cruel, but she didn’t care. What was the use of pleasantries when her whole life was over and she’d never be happy again?

“Sorry, sweetie,” Caren whispered, laying a gentle hand on Clarissa’s shoulder.

The simple act of kindness tore at her soul, making her want to lash out again. She shrugged off her sister’s caring touch. The unwavering love in the deep turquoise eyes, the same shade as her own, sent a little stab of guilt through Clarissa. “I’m the one who should be sorry, but seriously just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Caren gave her a weak smile. “You know I love Matt too.”

Clarissa nodded. Matt had no siblings. She’d married him when Caren was still in high school and he’d taken to her sister as if she were his own. “I know.” She sighed.

“I think I know a way to save him, but I need your help,” Caren whispered.

 

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Ashlynn Monroe is a busy wife and mom. She enjoys writing about anything and everything paranormal or fantasy related.  She spends most of her time daydreaming up her next tale of romance.

Visit her website at www.ashlynnmonroe.com to learn more about the worlds she imagines.

Without Condition by Lynn Burke #Contemporary #MayDecember #EroticRomance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke

WithoutCondition_FinalCover

Without Condition

Sandy Ridge 3

By Lynn Burke

Heat Level: 4

Release Date: November 14, 2018

Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, May December, Series, HEA, Novella

*Be warned: Anal sex, spanking

Nothing but Kayla’s fingers and not-so-trusty vibrator have given her an orgasm in almost a year, and the one man she’s hell-bent on breaking her losing streak hides behind his badge. Detective “Hottie Pants” Ford thwarts her every attempt at seduction, and even though vandalisms, a trashed apartment, and physical assault keeps throwing them together, he refuses to attempt a relationship ever again.

She sees past his façade into the man hiding his pain behind unbreakable rules and inflexible conditions, but even after the fiery chemistry between them ignites, she struggles to prove to him she is nothing like the woman who jaded him for life.

Heartbroken, Kayla decides on a vacation to help her peace of mind—and ends up at Sandy Ridge. With danger hot on her heels, can the man she turns to first recognize Kayla for who she is? Will he give her the chance she needs to let him know she wants him without condition, before it’s too late?

PURCHASE LINKS:

books2Read: https://www.books2read.com/b/bxZXkD

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07K2GCRL4

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07K2GCRL4

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/without-condition-lynn-burke/1129805158

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/without-condition

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/without-condition/id1440823694

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/904254

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WARNING 18+ ONLY!

ADULT EXCERPT:

Detective Ford’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I can’t do this again.”

“Do what?” Kayla whispered even though he spoke as though to himself.

A muscle in his clenched jaw ticked, and it took him a few seconds to answer.

“Get involved.”

I’m not her, she thought to argue, but what did he know beyond the truth of her life? A rich young woman over ten years his junior whose daddy spoiled her rotten… Thinking he might turn on his heel and walk out without her even getting a chance to taste his lips twisted Kayla’s stomach.

“I don’t want a house and the picket fence, Detective.” The words spilled from her.

“Jacob,” he murmured, his gaze still on her lips.

“I don’t dream about rainbows and unicorns, Jacob,” Kayla whispered, her mind set on having him, giving her more boldness than usual. “I dream about your skin pressed against mine. Your mouth on my body, giving me what I want.”

He blinked, his gaze jerking up to her eyes, and he lifted his chin just enough, it felt as though he peered down at her. “Tell me what you want, Kayla.”

Alpha and commanding… yes, please. Emboldened, Kayla looked up at him through her lashes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Jacob worked his jaw and thank fuck, lust rose to shimmer in his eyes.

“I’m not a gentle man.”

“I don’t want gentle.”

“I don’t do the cuddle and pillow talk bullshit after fucking a woman.”

All in, Kayla wasn’t about to hold back.

“Can’t cuddle and pillow talk if you bend me over the table in the back room.”

The man didn’t even flinch. “Conflict of interest, then.”

Kayla huffed a snort and dropped her arms, determined to win her way into the damn man’s slacks. She approached on trembling legs, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. His gray striped tie beckoned to her, and she slid the material between two fingers, trailing downward until she reached the end. Her fingertips rested on his belt buckle, and she lifted her gaze.

“Bullshit excuses,” she whispered.

His breath left in a rush, fanning her face with the scent of wintergreen.

“Kayla…”

“Jacob.” She quirked the corner of her lip.

War raged in his eyes, tensing his body looming over hers. That jaded, he probably hadn’t been intimate with too many women since his ex.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, breathless as hell and soaked through the bit of satin covering her throbbing pussy. Kayla slowly slid her hand downward, and when Jacob didn’t stop her, she found his cock, hard and heavy along his left thigh.

“You want me.”

His lips pursed, and Kayla squeezed his impressive girth, drawing a groan from his chest deep enough his mouth parted.

“Yes.” The whispered confession left his lips, and he grabbed her, yanking her full against his body. He crushed his mouth to hers before her held breath escaped, his soft yet demanding lips spinning her head. One hand fisted in her hair, Jacob tilted her head, thrusting his tongue between her lips.

Kayla moaned and sagged against him as his tongue swept along hers, tasting and devouring exactly as she’d hoped.

© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

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Dixie Reapers MC paperback, Volume 1 #MCromance #bikerromance #newadult #olderhero #NewRelease @changelingpress #HarleyW_Writer

One fucking look. That’s all it took. I branded her. I let her go.
Now she’s back, and she’s mine.

Venom/Torch Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action/Adventure, MC Romance,
New Adult, Silver Fox, Contemporary
Format: Paperback

Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)

Ridley: My daddy was a biker, and I was definitely Daddy’s girl. When I found out my stepdad had something horrible planned for me, I ran. Straight to the Dixie Reapers. But it wasn’t my daddy’s arms I ended up in. Venom makes me feel safe, and his kisses make me ache for so much more. I want him — all of him — and damn the consequences.

Venom: I hadn’t risen to the rank of VP of the Dixie Reapers MC without getting my hands dirty. I’d been deep in blood and dirty money for over twenty years. But when an angel I hadn’t seen in fourteen years came back into my life, all it took was one look and I was a goner. Now she’s mine, and I’ll do anything to keep her, even if it means starting a war.

Torch (Dixie Reapers MC 2)

Isabella: I was seventeen when my daddy gave me to Torch. He inked me, then watched me walk away. Now I’m back, ready to face whatever fate awaits me. It never occurred to me he’d kiss me so deeply, so passionately I’d be begging for more. He’ll be my first, my last, my only… because I’m his, and he’s never going to let me forget it.

Torch: I’ve kept my distance, watching over the girl I claimed as my own. I know it’s only a matter of time before she comes home. There may be thirty years between us, but fuck if I care what people think. She’s mine, and I’m going take her any way I can, as often as I can, and when I’m done, she’ll never again think of walking out the door. Because she’s done the impossible… she’s claimed the heart of a man who didn’t think he had one. No one’s going to come between us, especially not the man who gave his daughter to me — not even if he has the entire cartel army on his ass.

Available at Amazon

Prefer ebook? Venom and Torch are available separately in ebook from Changeling Press.

 

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Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)
Harley Wylde
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

My heart thundered in my chest as I locked myself in the bathroom off the foyer. The air duct over my head had always carried sounds from the dining room, and I listened in horror as my stepdad and Mr. Montoya discussed me like I was cattle.

“She’ll do,” Mr. Montoya said. “I’ll have fun breaking her in. Once she’s been properly trained, I’m sure she’ll fetch top dollar.”

My stomach pitched, and I nearly threw up.

“Of course, I’d prefer to see all the merchandise before paying our agreed upon price,” Mr. Montoya said. “After dinner, I’ll see exactly what I’m paying for and maybe take her for a test drive.”

“Whatever you need,” my mom said. “This deal is very important to us.”

Holy shit! My own mother was selling me? Shit like this just didn’t happen. Not to girls like me. Yeah, sure, you heard on the news about women being sold overseas to brothels, but to have it brought to own my front door… My hand shook as I slowly turned the knob and let myself out of the bathroom. I removed my heels so I wouldn’t make a sound.

Marta, the housekeeper we’d had since I first moved here, was quietly standing near the front door. Out of sight of the dining room. With a quick glance toward the door that led to where my fate awaited, I dashed to Marta’s side. She handed me my purse and car keys.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “Go straight to your father.”

“Marta, I…”

She shushed me and gave me a tight hug. “I love you like you were my own. I won’t stand by and let this happen to you. Now go, before they realize you’re not coming back.”

“Thank you,” I said fervently, then soundlessly opened the front door and made my escape.

My car, a Mercedes Richard and Mom had bought on my sixteenth birthday, was parked around the side of the house. The engine was quiet, and if I kept my headlights off, no one would even know I was leaving. I slipped behind the wheel and tossed my purse and shoes on the passenger seat. Fastening my seatbelt, I shut the door as softly as I could and started the engine.

The car crept around the fountain and down the driveway. The gate remained open from when Mr. Montoya had arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Once my tires touched the road, I flicked on my headlights and headed for the highway. It was a long-ass drive to Alabama, but except for gas, I wasn’t fucking stopping until I saw my daddy. Mom might have done her best to separate us, but I would always be Daddy’s little girl.

When I’d been on the road for hours, my stomach began to cramp from hunger and my car was almost on empty. I pulled into a small town somewhere in North Florida. After filling my tank, I left the car parked at the gas station and walked across the street to a diner. But what I saw when I stepped through the doors froze me in my tracks. My face was plastered across the TV with a ticker running underneath. Ridley Johnson is reported as being unstable. If seen, contact the police immediately.

I tried to pull my hair forward as much as possible to hide my face and claimed a spot at the back of the diner, where the lighting wasn’t so great. My hands fumbled with my purse, and I quietly counted what was left of my cash. I’d seen enough crime shows to know my credit cards could be traced, so I’d paid cash at the gas station and I’d pay cash for my meal. An older waitress came over, looking dead on her feet.

“What can I get you, doll?”

“A burger and fries with a sweet tea.”

She nodded and scribbled my order down, not even looking at my face once. As she moved away to place my order with the kitchen, some of the tension eased from my shoulders. The place was nearly empty, but I had a close call when a sheriff’s deputy stepped inside. I sat frozen, scared to even breathe, until he picked up his to-go order and went back out to his cruiser.

My meal arrived a few minutes later, and I ate quickly, leaving enough money on the table to cover the bill and a tip. Gathering my purse, I headed back to my car, every nerve in my body on alert for any kind of trouble. I hit the road again and didn’t stop until I’d cleared the panhandle.

The town was shabby, the sidewalks cracked, and the buildings crumbling. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but it was time to change. I stopped to top off my tank at a gas station that was well lit, just in case I got stuck with the car a while longer, and grabbed my backpack from the trunk. In case my family had gotten nosy, I’d hidden it in the spare tire compartment, which meant if I had a flat I was shit out of luck because both the tire and my bag and boots hadn’t fit.

After filling up the car, I stepped into the grimy bathroom and stripped out of my dress and heels. I washed my face in the sink with the harsh soap provided in the dispenser and blotted it dry with the stiffest damn paper towels I’d ever touched. Pulling an elastic from my bag, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, the long curling mass falling down the center of my back. After I had shimmied into a pair of tight, ripped jeans and put on a black tee with teal swirls and white skulls across the front, I slipped on some socks and the biker boots I’d picked up at a Harley Davidson store.

A smile flashed across my face as I studied my reflection in the cracked mirror. Aside from the golden curls, I didn’t even look like Ridley Johnson anymore. At least, not the Ridley Johnson Mom had molded me to be. I hated that girl and never wanted to be her again. I stuffed my dress and heels in the trash, picked up my bag, and went back out to my car. The guy behind the counter didn’t even look up from his magazine.

Now I just had one more problem. The damn car. There was no way my stepdad had put out that bulletin on me without also telling the cops what I was driving. It was a fucking miracle no one had pulled me over yet. I knew what I was about to do was risky as hell, but so was driving around in this damn Mercedes for another minute.

I’d hung around my dad long enough to know what I was searching for. Our visits might have been few, but he’d always made them count. Mom thought we were taking drives to the park or the beach, but he’d been teaching me about his way of life, and introducing me to some people she wouldn’t have approved of.

I pulled up to a garage on a darkened street corner. A light inside told me someone was around, even if the place wasn’t officially open. My palms were sweating again but I blew out a breath and braced myself. It was time to put the socialite behind me and be every inch my father’s daughter. I pulled the keys from the ignition and boldly walked inside.

“You can’t be here, bitch,” a voice said harshly from deep inside.

“I need to make a trade,” I said.

A man with a leather cut strolled out of the garage, the lighting just good enough that I could read Devil’s Boneyard MC — V.P. — Scratch.

I had no fucking clue if it was a rival club of Dixie Reapers or not and knew I needed to tread carefully. We studied one another, his gaze taking me in from head to toe. Not in an I want to fuck her kind of way, more like he was assessing if I was a threat.

“I have a problem,” I said. “I have a hot car and need someone to take it off my hands. All I need in return is something that will run well enough for me to get a few states away.”

Scratch rubbed his jaw and looked beyond me to the silver Mercedes.

“If you change out the VIN or strip it for parts, you can make a decent amount off it,” I said. “I don’t care what piece of shit you give me in return as long as it gets me where I’m going. I need reliable, not flashy.”

He took in my appearance again. “You know how to ride?”

His question momentarily startled me. “Ride?”

He tipped his head and sauntered back inside the garage. Against my better judgment, I followed. There was an older motorcycle sitting off to the side. The pewter gray tank and fenders had seen better days, but as I circled the bike I saw that it was in pretty decent condition. The Harley emblem, though tarnished, was a welcome surprise. I wasn’t a bike expert by any means, even though Dad had tried, but I thought it was a Harley Soft Tail, which meant it would be light enough for a woman like me to handle. Unlike the big monster my dad rode.

“How well does it run?” I asked.

Scratch walked over to a wall and pulled down a key, tossing it to me. I snatched it midair and straddled the bike. The key turned in the ignition easily enough and I twisted the throttle. The engine rumbled, and a smile spread across my face. God, I’d fucking missed that sound. The thrum of the bike between my legs made me feel like I was coming home. Dad had taught me to ride when I was fourteen, and he’d rented a bike for me every time he’d visited after that, even if I hadn’t been exactly been legal to drive the first few years.

“Even trade?” I asked.

The gaze Scratch gave me said he saw more than I liked, but he nodded.

“I just need to get my stuff from the Mercedes. It’s unlocked,” I said, handing him the car keys.

When I returned with my backpack strapped to me, my purse stuffed inside, he held out some papers to me. I glanced at them and saw it was everything I’d need to make the bike legal when I got to where I was going.

“I don’t know who you belong to, baby girl, or what you’re running from, but you don’t fucking stop until you reach your man.”

“You know who I am,” I said softly.

“Picture’s been all over the news tonight, statewide from what I hear. You don’t appear all that unstable to me, but that family you’re leaving… they’re bad news. Richard Benton III is not a nice man.”

“You know my stepdad?” I asked without thinking.

“Know of him. My crew won’t have anything to do with the shit he’s mixed up in.”

I straddled the bike again and nodded.

“Who taught you to ride? Socialites like you don’t know shit about bikes.”

“I’m not a socialite. I’m a biker’s daughter.” And that was as much as I was going to tell him.

 

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Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Visit Harley at harleywylde.com!

Shifter Woods: Snarl by Nicola M. Cameron #shifters #PNR #EroticRomance @YesItsNicolaC

Can a lone wolf woo and win his very own kitty girl, or will he get turned into cougar chow?

Jack Hawthorne is an Alpha wolf shifter and former SEAL who lost the leadership of his pack while serving his country. Kate Chandler is a cougar shifter with no sense of smell and a deep-seated distrust of fated mates. When these two are thrown together at the Cougar Ridge Ski Resort in Esposito County, NM, Jack realizes that the sharp-witted, beautiful female is his heart’s mate. But her injury means she can’t smell the truth, and her father (and Jack’s former commanding officer) has made it clear that Kate is off limits.

Now, Jack has to convince Kate that they’re meant for each other, win her father’s approval, and get the local wolf pack to accept him. But as every SEAL knows, the only easy day was yesterday.

Excerpt available here.

  • Paranormal, Erotic Romance
  • Word Count: 30,000
  • Heat Level 4
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Books in the Shifter Woods series:


Reviews

Rated Five Stars. “Ms. Cameron did a wonderful job with Shifter Woods: Snarl and I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment in the series.”
– Amazon review


Where to Buy

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | iTunes | Kobo | Goodreads


 Adult Excerpt – 18+

Kate arched her back, pressing a lace-encased breast against his hand. “I seem to remember you saying something about SEALs only needing one hand for bra hooks. Want to prove it?”

Jack’s grin could only be called predatory. He slid a hand under her spine, the pressure of her bra band easing as he undid the hooks. “Less than five seconds,” he said smugly. “That’s a new personal best.”

“I’m impressed.”

He rested his hand on her ribcage, thumb and index finger cupping the underside of her breast. “Oh, trust me, I can do more than that.” Bending down, he took the fabric of her bra in his teeth and tugged it loose, exposing her. “Woof,” he mumbled through the material before spitting it over the side of the bed.

She chortled. “You animal.”

“Guilty as charged. God, you’re gorgeous.”

Leaning down again, he ran the tip of his tongue over one dark pink peak, delicately flicking it. It hardened, the pleasure arrowing between her legs and making her inner muscles clench. “Ooooh.”

“You liked that?”

“Oh, yeah. Do it again.”

He did, licking and suckling while his fingers teased the other nipple, rolling it before giving it a soft pinch. She melted into a happy puddle under his talented attentions, feeling his own arousal growing as the ridge in his jeans pressed against her lower thigh. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she gently scratched his scalp before slipping down further and touching his ears. She heard/felt the rumble of pleasure as she ran a fingertip over the curve of one ear. “These are so cute. I bet your team nickname was Wolfman.”

He let a nipple pop out of his mouth, the air cooling it quickly. “No bet. They’re round, but the cartilage never folded over completely so they look pointed from some angles.”

She repeated her caress and was rewarded with a soft hiss. “They’re also sensitive.”

“Yeah, they are—Kate.” Her name ended on a gasp as she traced the edge of the soft cartilage. “Baby, you keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

“So don’t be. Give it all to me. I want it.”

He leaned up, capturing her mouth in another of those lush, greedy kisses. “I’ll give it to you, everything you want,” he said against her lips. “But let me enjoy this, okay? I’ve been dreaming of you since the day I saw you.”
She made a wordless noise of agreement. He returned to her breasts, giving both her nipples the slightest teasing bite before kissing his way down her stomach, her navel, until he reached the waistband of her jeans. “Permission to take these off, ma’am?”

She stroked his hair again, enjoying the softness of it. “Granted.”

He made quick work of the button and fly zipper, sliding the tight denim down and stripping it off her legs. She was grateful she’d worn the matching panties to the bra, a pretty bikini style with lace around the edges. He sat back on his knees, licking his lips. “Fuck. Blue lace. That’s my favorite, baby.”

She shifted one leg, opening her thighs in unmistakable invitation. “You haven’t even seen the best bit yet.”

He Even in the room’s dim light his smile glowed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a cocktease, Ms. Chandler?”

He “Mm, it may have been mentioned once or twice.”

He slid his fingers under the blue satin, sending a shiver of anticipation across her hips as he slowly pulled her panties down, tossing them to the floor alongside her bra and jeans. The coolness of the air chilled the hot, damp flesh between her legs, and she sucked in a shuddering breath when he ran his fingertips over her outer lips. Bringing his hand up, he sniffed it with delight. “Oh, yeah. You smell so good.”

He In any other situation the reminder of her disability would sting, but now all she could feel was a wriggling sort of glee. “What do I smell like?”

He inhaled her essence on his fingers again. “Like salt mixed with something tangy and sweet. I’ll be honest, it’s making my mouth water.”

She rubbed her foot along his side. “Well, if it smells that good…”

He Growling softly, he slid down between her thighs, wedging them open with his shoulders.