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

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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

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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/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

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Don’t Let Go by Lynn Burke #FemDom #Domme #BDSM #EroticRomance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

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Don’t Let Go

Darkest Desires #1

by Lynn Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?

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 Changeling Press
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I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.

As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.

I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.

Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.

Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.

Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.

My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.

Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.

My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.

No such fucking luck.

I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.

A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.

Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.

“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.

I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.

A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.

I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.

Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.

She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.

From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.

My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.

I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.

“You will call me Mistress.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

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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/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorlynnburke/

 

 

 

Pre-Order — ROCKY (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde @HarleyW_Writer #BikerRomance #EroticRomance #newadult #preorder

Intended for those who are age 18+

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Mara:

I was daddy’s little girl, until he didn’t come home one day. Mom moved on, married a rich guy I can’t stand, and his son, Sebastian Rossi, wants what he can’t have — me. I didn’t realize when I chose to run that I would crash down a mountain, or that the man who pulled me from the wreckage would rescue me in every way that counts. Rocky is the biggest, sexiest badass I’ve ever seen. And the more time I spend with him, the more I want to feel his lips on mine, his hands holding me, his body claiming me. I want him so bad I can taste it, but the stubborn man says I’m too young. I’ll just have to prove him wrong.

Rocky:

All I wanted was to brood in peace and quiet on my mountaintop while I tried to outrun my demons. I never expected that past to show up in the form of a sexy as fuck woman — a woman I shouldn’t touch. I’m not only twenty years older than her, I’m part of the reason her dad never came home. I’ll do anything it takes to keep her safe, even go home to Alabama. My brothers, the Dixie Reapers, will help protect her. I’m just not sure who’s going to protect her from me, because if I ever get my hands on all those curves, I’m not ever going to let her go.

BUY LINKS

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ADULT EXCERPT

Mara stood in the bedroom doorway, her gaze darting around the room. As badly as I wanted her, I also wanted tonight to be special for her. The Prospects had helped put the king size bed together, as well as the dresser. I’d bought two fluffy pillows and one of those bed in a bag sets. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a navy blanket with aqua swirls, and matching aqua sheets. I’d tried to pick something Mara might find pretty, without having to sleep under flowers and shit. So her feet wouldn’t be cold in the morning, I’d picked up the matching rug and it lay beside the bed on her side.

Three jar candles were scattered across the top of the dresser and I’d lit them, the eucalyptus and mint scents filling the air. I’d shut off the light, so only the glow of candlelight lit the area. I also had put a candle on each bedside table, but Mara didn’t know about the stuff I’d hidden in one of the drawers. We’d picked up the furniture at a warehouse on the edge of town, then stopped at a Target on the way back for everything else. While she’d been picking out towels and shit, I’d made a quick side trip down another aisle. I’d left the Prospects with her and they’d done a good job keeping her occupied.

The windows had those cheap three dollar blinds up, but I’d made sure they were closed so we’d have some privacy. I’d buy her better ones, but these were fine for now. The silvery light of the moon tried to break through them, but no one could see in and that’s what mattered. Not that I thought my brothers would pull that shit, knowing that I was going to claim my woman tonight. Everyone would give us some space.

“How did you get all this without me knowing?” she asked.

“I made sure you were distracted.”

She smiled softly. “Thank you, Rocky. This is amazing.”

“I can be an asshole, but I’m not a complete asshole. You deserve for tonight to be special. I’ve never been much of a romantic, and I can’t promise that you’ll get stuff like this all the time. I just… I didn’t want you to look back on tonight and be disappointed.”

Mara moved closer, her hand coming up to rest on my chest. “I won’t be disappointed. Even without the candles and stuff, I still wouldn’t have been. All I need is you, Rocky. If you’d taken my virginity in that cheap motel in Kansas, it still would have been a good memory for me.”

I cupped her cheek, my thumb caressing her soft skin. “Your daddy was a good man, and I don’t know that he would approve of us being together, but I promise that I will always take care of you. I’m sure I’ll make mistakes along the way, but I will never knowingly hurt you.”

“I don’t understand really about all this MC stuff, but I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

“Sweet girl, you could never embarrass me.”

I kissed her, slow and deep. Sliding my hands under her dress and cupped her ass, lifting her against me. I couldn’t wait to strip her bare and feel all those curves against me. Slow and steady, I reminded myself. It wasn’t a race. She wasn’t some club slut that I could flip over, fuck fast and hard, and walk away. She was mine, my woman, and I was going to treat her right. Oh, she would get it hard, but I was going to savor every moment, every inch of her soft body. This wasn’t just a first for her. I was far from a virgin, but it was my first time with a woman who mattered.

 

WHERE TO FIND HARLEY

Harley’s Website

Harley’s Amazon Page

Harley’s Book Bub

Harley @ Changeling Press

Harley on Facebook

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.

Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter!

For fans of Gay Romance, Harley/Jessica also writes as Dulce Dennison.

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#NewRelease – Virgin Under the Mistletoe @AuthorPaigeW #Christmas #Romance #NewAdult

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Danika

Killian Reid. Even saying his name makes my panties damp. He has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, even if he is twenty-one years older than me. I’ve been crushing on him since I was fifteen. For six years, my Christmas wish has been for Killian to notice me. I never thought it was possible – until now.

Killian

Holy hell! It was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips under some mistletoe, but damn. Little Danika Parker isn’t all that little anymore, with curves in all the right places. I’m pretty sure I’ll be reliving that hot as fuck kiss for a while. This Christmas, the only present I want to unwrap is her.

Stand-alone novella, no cliffhanger, no cheating, dual POV

Amazon / B&N / iTunes / Kobo

Excerpt

Killian hung some mistletoe in the living room doorway and I smiled sadly. I wouldn’t be sharing kisses with anyone this year. The only people likely to stop by my house were either my friend, Bethany, or my parents. Kissing any of them, other than on the cheek, was out of the question.

Killian’s brow arched again and he pointed up at it. “You’re just going to leave me hanging here? It’s tradition.”

“I think the tradition is that if two people get caught under the mistletoe they have to share a kiss. You’re all alone over there.”

“You could rectify that.”

Smiling a little, I walked toward him and stopped under the mistletoe. Even on tiptoe I couldn’t reach him, but he bent down and met me halfway. I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head at the last minute and our lips met. Fire sizzled through me at the contact and I clutched at his shirt to hold on. Killian’s lips moved against mine and his tongue flicked out, asking for entry. I parted my lips and welcomed him in.

My toes curled against the carpet as his kiss left me dizzy and wanting more. My thoughts spun in different directions as I tried to process what was happening. He’d never shown me any interest before, but I knew this was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. Kissing Killian was better than anything I’d ever imagined.

Killian drew away, his arm still around my waist. His eyes were dark with passion as he smiled down at me. I felt like I should say something, but my brain was still catching up. He pressed another kiss to my lips then backed away, shoving his hands back into his pockets. My hand lifted and touched my lips as I watched him.

“Now you’ve had your first Christmas kiss of the year,” he said.

“It will likely be my only Christmas kiss this year.”

“Pity. You do it so well.”

My cheeks warmed again.

“Well, Miss Parker. Anything else you need help with around here?”

I could think of something he could help me with, but I didn’t think he was referring to my damp panties. I’d have been more than happy for him to take them off and make me scream his name the rest of the afternoon. I might have sworn off guys, but Killian was in a category all his own. If he wanted to rock my world, I would let him.

“The only thing I have left is the dining room,” I said. “It’s just a tablecloth and placemats though, so I can handle that.”

“Then I guess my work here is done. Call me if you need anything else.”

Anything like what exactly? Was that an open-ended invitation to call him, or only for Christmas related things?

Killian hesitated only a moment before giving me another smirk and walking out the door. I peered through the front window and watched him back down the driveway, heading out. When I couldn’t see his truck anymore, I faced my empty home. A house that felt far emptier now that he’d been in it and then left.

What would it take to make a guy like Killian stick around?