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Thursday, May 31, 2018

Spice & Vanilla by Katherine Wyvern #GayFiction @EvernightPub




Hello, and thank you so much for having me here today to talk about my new release, Spice & Vanilla. This is the darker, naughtier sister of my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, but it can be read as a complete stand alone.

The BDSM element in Spice and Vanilla came about in part because I had just finished reading Katerina Ross’ beautiful novel Tenderly Wicked, so I was in the mood for something a bit spicier than my previous release, and partly because I had this idea for Raphael, the main character, that he would be “in two minds about anything”. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, and as it turns out, a switch (he is in fact the sort of character that can piss off absolutely every reader on earth, lol).

I always like sex scenes to carry some of the character building in my stories. I think sex is one of the most visceral things we do in life, and the way we have sex with different people and different sex with the same people at different times can say a lot about us, about our feelings for our partners and where we are in a relationship. You can put so much more than smut in a sex scene (although a good amount of smut is most welcome), and when you stray into BDSM that potential for character exploration rises tenfold, because there are so many more layers to it. Why do we feel the need, in a caring, loving relationship, for giving or receiving pain? Why do power and humiliation become a turn on, even a necessity, at certain times? And can these things add more to our relationships than just a passing kinky thrill? Can they possibly become a way to express feelings we don’t have words for? I do not pretend to have full answers to these questions, but I did enjoy searching for them in the company of such complex characters as Raphael and Hugh.




















Blurb:

Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.
Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.
Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.


Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys


Excerpt:

Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.
Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.
It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.
Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.
This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.
Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.
Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.
Tick—tock—tick—tock.
He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.
Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.
“You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.
“Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.
And that is exactly what you need, my love . Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.
Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.
It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.
Hugh watched him coming, avidly.
He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.
“Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.
“Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.
This was a faster, business-like tempo.
“There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.
“What? Wh—but…”
Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here:


See what Katherine is up to on:

Or follow her on Instagram @katherinewyvern



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Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Out Now! The River City Chronicles by J. Scott Coatsworth #Contemporary #GayLit #Giveaway

COVER-River-City


J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer magical realism book out:

A group of strangers meets at Ragazzi, an Italian restaurant, for a cooking lesson that will change them all. They quickly become intertwined in each other's lives, and a bit of magic touches each of them.


Meet Dave, the consultant who lost his partner; Matteo and Diego, the couple who run the restaurant; recently-widowed Carmelina; Marcos, a web designer getting too old for hook-ups; Ben, a trans author writing the Great American Novel; teenager Marissa, kicked out for being bi; and Sam and Brad, a May-September couple who would never have gotten together without a little magic of their own.


Everyone in the River City has a secret, and sooner or later secrets always come out.

Buy Links:


Amazon: 


Also Available Here:

iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads




Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. Enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d4710/?




Excerpt

Matteo stared out the restaurant window into the darkness of Folsom Boulevard. It was getting dark earlier as summer edged into fall. Streetlights flickered on as cars drifted by, looking for parking or making the trip out of Midtown toward home.

The sign on the window read “Ragazzi” (the boys), lettered in a beautiful golden script just two months old. Investing in this little restaurant his uncle had left to them when he'd passed away had been their ticket out of Italy. But now with each passing day, as seats sat empty and tomatoes, pasta, and garlic went uneaten, the worry was gnawing ever deeper into Matteo's gut.

Behind him in the open, modernized kitchen, Diego was busy cooking—his mother's lasagne, some fresh fish from San Francisco, and some of the newer Italian dishes they'd brought with them from Bologna. The smells of boiling sauce and fresh-cooked pasta that emanated from the kitchen were entrancing.

They'd sent the rest of the staff —Max and Justin—home for the evening. The three customers who had shown up so far didn't justify the cost of keeping their waiter and busboy on hand.

Matteo stopped at the couple's table in front of the other window. "Buona sera," he said, smiling his brightest Italian smile.

"Hi," the man said, smiling back at him. He was a gentleman in about his mid-fifties, wearing a golf shirt and floppy hat. "Kinda quiet tonight, huh?"

"It always gets busier later," Matteo lied smoothly. "Pleasure to have you here. Can I get you anything else?"

"A little more wine, please?" the woman said, holding out her glass so the charm bracelet on her wrist jangled.

"Of course." He bowed and ducked into the kitchen.

He gave Diego a quick peck on the cheek.

His husband and chef waved him off with a snort. "Più tardi. Sto preparando la cena."

"I can see that. Dinner for a hundred, is it? It’s dead out there again tonight.”

Diego shot him a dirty look.

Matteo retrieved the bottle of wine from the case and returned to fill up his guests' glasses. “What brings you in tonight?” Maybe they saw our ad.…

“Just walking by and we were hungry. I miss the old place though.… What was it called, honey?”

Her husband scratched his chin. “Little Italy, I think?”

“That’s it! It was the cutest place. Checkered tablecloths, those great Italian bottles with the melted wax… so Italian.”

Matteo groaned inside. “So glad you came in” was all he said with another smile.




J. Scott Coatsworth






















Author Bio



Scott lives with his husband Mark in a little yellow bungalow in East Sacramento, with two pink flamingos by the front porch.

He spends his time between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine, he devoured her library. But as he grew up, he wondered where the people like him were.

He decided it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Waldenbooks. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

His friends say Scott’s brain works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He seeks to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.

He runs Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction that reflects their own reality.

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/
Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/jscoatsworthAuthor Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_CoatsworthAuthor QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ


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Now Available in Audiobook and Paperback: Genie’s Awakening by @JewelQuinlan #Rafflecopter #Giveaway



A Reverie Resort Vacation

Visit Reverie Resort, a luxury hotel on a tropical island where vacationers come to enjoy their wildest dreams but get more than they ever expected…

Genevieve, a Jinn, comes to Reverie Resort for one last vacation before she must go before the Afrit tribunal and formally declare that she has no powers. She hopes to enjoy one last taste of a luxury beyond even what she is used to before being cast out of her own dimension to live among humans.

But something goes wrong. Instead of the spa weekend she's expecting, she finds herself on a remote, barren planet being auctioned off to the highest bidder and has no way to contact her hosts to correct the situation. Is there really a mix up? Or do her hosts have sinister intentions toward her? In the meantime, she finds her new owner, Colin, to be quite attractive for a human...



















Audiobook Details:

Listening Time: 4 hours 51 minutes

Narrated by: Dene Woods

Listen to a sample:

https://soundcloud.com/jewel-quinlan/00-geniesawakening-retailaudiosample


Where to buy the audiobook:
Get the paperback version on Amazon

Want the ebook instead? Get it here:
Add it to your shelf on Goodreads




Prefer to try for a FREE copy? Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway HERE

Jewel is giving away 10 paperback copies and 10 audiobook copies of Genie's Awakening

The Rafflecopter runs from 5/28 through 6/10




Enjoy this excerpt:

Will turned to address the men again, but did not release her from his grip. “Have a good look at this beauty, gents.”

As they gawked at her, she stood straight and proud as though daring someone to try and claim her, returning their gazes with scathing, cold eyes, her fair lips pressed into a tight line. After one quick scan of crowd before her, she shot an icy glare at Will, who let go of her and backed off.

Colin chuckled. Could this petite thing be the reason for the bruise on Will’s cheek? She radiated anger, was so alive with it that it cast off her like the heat of a flame.

Will strolled to one corner of the platform as though nothing dramatic had just occurred. “Now, where shall we start the bidding?”

“What skills does she have?” asked one of the men.

“Yeah, can she work a terminal?” asked another.

“A bit scrawny for farm work. Looks like the most she’d be able to do is keep the house clean,” someone else commented. That was followed by snickering from the cluster of men around him.

The woman tossed her head and the dark strands of her hair gleamed onyx in the light of the double suns. “I do not do menial labor.”

She reminded Colin of warrior princesses in tales. And it was obvious to him that she was unused to being handled the way she was right now.

The trader wagged his eyebrows and strolled to the other side of the platform. “Who cares what skills she has? Come now. Let’s start the bidding. With a woman of this quality, why would you ever want her to leave the bedroom?”

The deep multi-toned chuckle of men followed his statement. But Colin wasn’t among them. Instead, he frowned, and started making his way forward to end the show.

“Who will give me twenty credits?” the trader shouted. “Twenty credits for the loveliest creature you’ve ever seen.”

The woman stood with her head held high, eyes distant, stance hard as the rock that formed the distant red mountains of Garrulus Four.

The men shuffled and murmured amongst themselves. Given the kind of lives they led, beauty was a luxury far outweighed by the many other qualities they needed in a wife. This lot of men were used to leading quiet lives, and they wanted women who did the same or went along with it at least. The woman on the platform would not fit in with this plan. Even if one of them could afford her, Colin doubted they’d be able to handle her.

Will’s eyebrows were high with shock. “Nobody?” He stopped his movement on the platform and pulled his head back in an exaggerated way, making his potbelly poke forward from the coat he wore. “No one will pay twenty credits for this gorgeous creature? That’s a bargain for someone like her.”

Colin saw one corner of the woman’s mouth quirk upward in satisfaction, and he grinned again. Obviously, she felt like she was winning so far, but what would be the consequences? She’d already stated she wouldn’t work, and she’d failed to declare any skills. If all she had to trade was beauty, she was on the wrong planet.

“Eighteen credits then. Who will pay eighteen?” Will called, an edge of desperation in his voice now. “You’ve all become shy suddenly. Suffering from performance anxiety, perhaps? Who wouldn’t be with her around, eh?” He chortled and leered at the woman.

Colin could see the men glancing at each other. Who would be crazy enough to take on the beautiful spitfire? That’s what it came down to, their masculinity. Clearly they found themselves lacking, because none of them were brave enough to bid.

As the silence stretched on, a warm wind whooshed through, audible in the vacuum of stillness. It was only then that the woman’s stance thawed. Her shoulders rounded, and worry transformed her eyes from their sparkling glare to the round-eyed, lost look of an innocent. The pink lips softened and parted revealing surprise at the group’s rejection, and Colin’s heart went out to her.

“Eighteen credits!” His hand shot up in the air before he even realized that the words had left his lips.






About the Author:

Restless by nature, Jewel Quinlan is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer concocting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.
For more information about Jewel Quinlan
Or join Jewel’s newsletter if you just want to get the most important updates


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Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Book Blast: You Never Forget Your First Earl by Ella Quinn #Historical #Romance #Giveaway @GoddessFish











This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Ella will be awarding a signed copy of the book (International Giveaway) to 5 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.





With her three good friends all recently married, Elizabeth Turley is ready for some husband-hunting of her own. One gentleman in particular sparks her interest. Geoffrey, Earl of Harrington is tall, handsome, and dashing. He’s also just a bit too sure of himself. But Elizabeth has observed enough about the rules of attraction to pique the earl’s attention. Yet once she has it, the discovery of a troubling secret taints her future happiness . . .


Lord Harrington must marry or lose a prestigious position in Brussels, and pretty, well-connected Elizabeth fits his needs admirably. But could it be that he has underestimated his bride? She doesn’t bat an eye in the face of the danger they encounter overseas. She’s strong-willed, intelligent, and more enticing each day—yet also more indifferent to him. Now Geoffrey faces his greatest challenge: to woo and win his own wife, or risk losing her for good . . .


Read an Excerpt:

Once Gavin had accompanied Lord Harrington into the house, her aunt looked at Elizabeth. “Well, what did you think?”

“After his initial stiffness, he was quite charming.” Even if he didn’t kiss her fingers.

“He’s a handsome man,” her aunt mused.

She had studied him as he’d strolled off with Gavin. She had been right. It was clear his tall frame and broad shoulders had no need of padding anywhere. “Yes. His eyes in particular are a beautiful color blue. They almost match the sapphire he wore.” His hair was blond but slightly darker than hers. “I like the way his hair curls.”

“But he is not pretty,” Aunt said. “Not like Byron.”

“No. He is very manly looking. His jaw is firm.” Not able to get the vision of his shoulders and shapely legs out of her mind, Elizabeth fought the urge to sigh. She might be a little too interested in his physical attributes.

“And he was attentive to you,” her aunt prodded.

“Yes, he was very attentive.” Especially when he talked about going abroad. In fact, that was almost the only thing he discussed. He had not asked anything about her likes and dislikes.

“Very well.” Her aunt’s tone was a bit impatient. “He is tall, blond, and handsome. He appears, from his conversation, to be intelligent and well read. He comes from a good family. He will be a marquis someday, and he wishes to be wed.” Aunt Bristow arched a brow. “Tell me. What is it about him that you do not like?”

Her aunt was right. Something about Lord Harrington had struck Elizabeth as . . . off. She pushed is physical looks aside and focused on what was bothering her. Lord knows it wasn’t his appearance. It was not his demeanor as such. It was . . . was he really interested in her? “He wants this position so badly that I believe he will marry any suitable lady just to have it.” She scrunched up her face. “Do you know what I mean?” Her aunt stared at her, clearly not understanding. She’d have to find a different way to put it. “It strikes me that in a way he is like a fortune hunter. He does not care who he weds, so long as he can have what he wants. In the case of a fortune hunter it is the money. In Lord Harrington’s case, it is the position with Sir Charles.” She rubbed the space between her eyes, trying to ease the tension she felt. “I do not wish to be the means to an end.”

Aunt rang the bell on the table next to her. “You do not think he cares if his affections are engaged.”

A footman appeared carrying two glasses and a decanter of claret. After setting it down, he returned to the house.

“I am not even sure if he cares about compatibility.”



About the Author:




USA Today bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, and a Portuguese Water Dog. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat. After cruising the Caribbean and North America, she completed a transatlantic crossing from St. Martin to Southern Europe. She's currently living in Germany, happily writing while her husband is back at work, recovering from retirement.

Website: http://www.ellaquinnauthor.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ellaquinnauthor

Blog: http://ellaquinnauthor.wordpresscom/


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Never-Forget-Your-First-Worthingtons/dp/1420145185/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/you-never-forget-your-first-earl-ella-quinn/1127062571?ean=9781420145182#/



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Monday, May 28, 2018

Book Spotlight: Enchanted by Him by @JaceyHolbrand #Gay #MC @EvernightPub



Hey folks! Jacey Holbrand here. I'm happy to announce I have another story in my Helldorado Mongrels MC series out now: Enchanted by Him!

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~
The timeline of Enchanted by Him overlaps the one set in the second book Seduced by Him. (The stories in the series can be read as standalones, but as with most series, it's best if they're read in order). In Enchanted by Him, we're reintroduced to the character Sloth—the man Tex, from Seduced by Him, is forced to ride up to Las Vegas with.
We follow Sloth and learn why he splits off from Tex, we learn Sloth's secret, and of course, we go on a journey with Sloth as he discovers his mate and falls in love. We also see what finally happens to Inferno, the leader of the Helldorado Mongrels MC.
Come be enchanted!

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~
Helldorado Mongrels MC member, Sloth, is a man with secrets. He’d joined the club with a specific goal in mind, and when three visitors arrive, he fears one of them will turn his world upside down. Especially since that newcomer is a witch and his mate.
Shaman, the medic from the Skinwalkers MC, was hired to find the woman after the Mongrels’s gold and has secrets himself. When he meets Sloth, the man he knows is destined for him, Shaman begins to reconsider his evil, witchy ways, and his internal conflict irritates him.
Despite the constant clashing of their differences, passion ignites between the two men. But will their secrets cause betrayal and hurt? Destroying their relationship before it even has a chance to fully develop? Or will love ultimately triumph?




















~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~
As he sputtered and his eyes watered, he spun away from the invisible partition and ran into the tall medic. The cowboy hat was gone, showing that the man sported long, jet black hair, drawn back into a ponytail. Memories of what his imagination had conjured up earlier flooded his mind and sent his cock twitching again. He had to fight an irresistible urge to drop to his knees before the man, unzip his black jeans, and take his shaft into his mouth.
Shaman chuckled, and once Sloth’s gaze connected with the medic’s gray-eyed gaze, Shaman lifted the corner of his mouth in a mischievous grin.
Sloth sucked in a stream of air as the man’s compelling and magnetic gaze held tight to his. Under the intense stare, Sloth’s body crackled and his joints hissed. The tingly sensations and odd sounds made him realize Shaman was stripping away all his cloaking spells. He tried to combat the psychic assault. His own powers weakened as Shaman continued to stare at him. All he had left was the mind block he’d put in place, and even that felt tenuous.
He attempted to step back and found he couldn’t move. Shaman had “frozen” him into place. Sloth thanked the Great Spirit he hadn’t actually been turned into an ice pop. He hated wintery cold temperatures. On top of it all, without the magic that’d been surrounding him for so long, he felt completely bare and exposed.
Again, Shaman offered a short laugh, this time snapping his fingers as well.
Sloth’s clothes disappeared. Not a stitch of fabric remained on him. To his dismay, he truly was naked. And traitor that it was, his hard cock stood at attention.
Who needs mind reading when my erection gives my thoughts away?
The medic strolled around him, seeming to appraise him like a stud at market. The man swept his fingers and hand over Sloth’s arm, buttocks, and the dip created by his spine at the top of his ass crack, making approving murmurs as he did so. Shaman came to stand in front of him and stroked his hand down Sloth’s chest to his cock.
He didn’t know how it was possible he could be rendered into a state of statue-like material, but still be able to perceive each brush of Shaman’s fingers and palm, the nuances of the man’s gentle touches and lingering caresses. Sloth would have sighed and swooned had he been able to.
“You know, perhaps I won’t kill you and consume your powers.” The medic looked up from Sloth’s cock and stared at his face. He raised a brow. “I see the shock in your eyes. Your gaze gives away everything you’re thinking.” His tone dripped of disapproval. “I’m a true skinwalker. Do you think being a mate matters to one of my kind? We crave power. Always need more. Doesn’t matter who, what, where, when, or how we get it as long as we amass as much as possible.”
Dread filled Sloth. His mate had considered killing him? Murdering him for skills he could barely use anymore himself? He wished he could close his eyes, block out the sight of Shaman, and be able to focus on clearing his head.
So much for the fairy tale euphoria of meeting one’s true love, feeling that instant connection, knowing there’s no one else who would love him unconditionally, and having the insatiable need to be with that someone.
Instead, he had confusion, despair, and panic about being tied to someone who might kill him in his sleep. Yet, he still couldn’t help being super attracted to the witch and wanting to fuck him—hard and fast or slow and easy. Didn’t matter to him how. As long as they got inside each other. And the fact that he craved to be physical with the skinwalker scared him even more.
“But then,” Shaman continued, “the pull I feel toward you is inexplicable. The thought of you no longer walking the earth pains me in a way I’ve never felt before and worsens with the idea of my hand taking you from your mortal coil. No. I won’t kill you. I won’t consume your power. But I will demand having all of you—body, heart, and soul. The two of us will be greater together as a bonded couple rather than just me having all the fun causing havoc everywhere.” Shaman clucked Sloth under the chin.
“I smell your attraction to me,” the medic stated, sneaking a glance at Sloth’s penis. “I see it, too. Yet, I also smell your fear. We can’t have that. Amorcito, you need to trust me … love me. I’m more than happy to give you some time to wrap your head around all of this. Not a lot of time, mind you, but whatever decision you come to, know this, you will be mine.”






















~ * ~ BUY BOOKS BY JACEY HOLBRAND ~ * ~

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~
Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.
Jacey loves to hear from readers! Click the link to eMail her: JaceyHolbrand@gmail.com

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~


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Friday, May 25, 2018

Odd Man Out (Watchdogs 3) Now Available on Amazon #MMM #Shapeshifters @ChangelingPress















BLURB

Ray and Jared were living the perfect life until Ray discovered his ability to shift. Now he dreams of his wolf every night, and lives in fear of the beast.

Remus is the only man who can help Ray control his inner wolf. But if they connect will Jared become the odd man out?

Buy Links:

Changeling Press (Get a New Release Discount)
  
Amazon:
















EXCERPT

“Wake the fuck up! Come on, Ray, wake up.”

Jared gripped Ray’s upper arms and shook him again. No response. Nobody sleeps that soundly. For Christ’s sake, he looked catatonic, like the woman in The Fall of the House of Usher, who’s pronounced dead and then buried alive. Now Jared was scared. He considered throwing cold water on him, maybe calling for an ambulance. He shook Ray again.
   
Slowly, Ray opened his right eye. An explosion in Afghanistan took his left eye years ago.

“Jared?” Ray mumbled.
 
“Yeah, Jared. Were you expecting someone else?”

Ray looked around the room. He seemed confused.

“Snap out of it, man. I couldn’t wake you.”

“I'm awake. I’m awake.” Ray stretched. He looked like he wanted to go back to sleep.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. I must have been dreaming.”

“Must have been some dream. There’s a wet spot on the bed.”

Ray checked the sheets. He looked surprised. “Sorry.”

“Forget it, Sexy.” Jared climbed into bed with him. “Tell me all the dirty details. I want to get off too.”

“You know I never remember my dreams.” Ray rolled out of bed. “I better change the sheets.”

Jared made a grab for him. “Later.”

Ray evaded him. “Look at the time, Jared.”

“You used to call me Baby?” Jared spoke more harshly than he intended.

“Fuck the sheets, and the time. We own the company. Let’s go in late. Better yet, let’s take the day off.”

“We can’t afford to close shop, even for one day. Too many P.I.’s in Jersey. The completion is killing us. ”

“We’re the new guys in town. All we need is a big profile case and the clients will be knocking our door down.”

“I hope so.” Ray headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Come back, I’ll give you a tongue bath instead.”

The bathroom door slammed behind Ray. Worried, Jared lay back with his arms under his head. Ray never wanted to fuck anymore. He always had an excuse. I’m too tired. It’s late. I’m drunk. I have a headache.

The sex had been dwindling for months. Six months to be exact. Ever since Remus showed up and screwed up their lives. If he was just another man Jared could handle the competition, but Remus was larger than life, a superhero who’d come from Ray’s past to claim him.



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Thursday, May 24, 2018

Nothing in my Heart by Peri Elizabeth Scott #romance @EvernightPub







Blurb:

Feeling trapped into marriage, Beckett Kilmer doesn’t hide his disdain for his young wife, although he certainly wants her physically.

Grace didn’t deliberately trap the man she loves, but ignorance is no defense, neither in a court of law nor the law according to Beckett.
When she loses their baby, he is kind and supportive but remains distant. Grace despairs, also trapped—but by the skeins of love that bind her.

Mysteriously finding herself capable of resisting him, she plans to assert her independence when Beckett comes to his senses, recognizing his reprehensible behavior. He strives to make amends and convince Grace to reconsider.
Still determined to leave, she then finds out she is pregnant again and Beckett redoubles his efforts to repair their relationship.
Can Grace find it within herself to forgive and trust him again?












Excerpt:
Beckett’s big form blanketed her far smaller one as he increased his thrusts, driving her toward that cliff of mindless insensibility her orgasms always conferred. He braced his weight on his forearms, head tucked into her throat, lips tight against the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder. 
He’d slipped into bed, naked and urgently erect, stripping off her nightgown with a muttered imprecation before bestowing a hard kiss that caused her to open to him, his mastery of her senses chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.
Her body instantly responded, the flush of arousal dampening her core, nipples tightening with desire as his big hands cupped and molded her breasts. There was no need for additional foreplay although he tested her readiness with a finger before settling between her thighs and
entering her.
It was a vastly familiar, nightly routine, one she desperately anticipated—to her shame—and their coupling tonight should have culminated the same way. With a climax, the sensation giving her the connection she craved, however fleeting, because that was all Beckett would give her.


About the Author:
Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She closed her part-time
private practice as a social worker and child play therapist and now pretends
to work well with her husband in their seasonal business.
Writing for years, along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has
published over 52 novels and reads most everything she can lay her hands on.



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