Friday, June 29, 2018

Release Day: Hungry for more Talbott's Cove - Hard Pressed by Kate Canterbary


She's town sweetheart...with a side of sass.
He's the new sheriff...and he has some disorderly conduct in mind.


Title: Hard Pressed
Author: Kate Canterbary
Release Date: June 29, 2018


Dear Jackson,
I'm leaving you this note because I know you're very busy and I don't want to waste the town sheriff's time. Lord knows I've already wasted enough of it.

Thank you for taking me home last night and...everything else. I made you a basket of wild blueberry muffins for your trouble. That seemed like the appropriate baked good for getting naked in your living room.

I wasn't myself last night. I didn't mean to kiss you or fondle your backside or ask all those intimate questions. Thank you for pretending to enjoy it.

It was very noble of you to sleep on the couch while I was starfished on your bed. I couldn't help but notice it's quite large. The bed, that is. I swear, I didn't notice anything else when I let myself out this morning.

As you know, Talbott's Cove is a ridiculously small town and there's no chance we can avoid each other. Not that I'd want to avoid you, of course, but I'm not sure I can look at you without thinking of the forty different ways I made a fool of myself.

Instead of avoidance, let's try to be friends. We'll forget all about last night…if that's what you want.

Please burn this note after you read it—

Annette

p.s. I whipped up some cinnamon buns, too. Please enjoy them. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't get buns out of my mind today.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39076627-hard-pressed


Follow Kate Canterbary at Book+Main for exclusive Hard Pressed content!
(Plus, stay up-to-date with The Magnolia Chronicles, a multi-part women’s fiction story, #exclusive to Book+Main)

*Hard Pressed will be added to Kindle Unlimited July 1, 2018

Amazon Universal | iBooks | B&N | Kobo



This is romance. 
This is what I want to experience when I pick up my iPad and reach for my next read to get lost in. Kate Canterbary is one of those authors that reaches into my hearts and unicorn loving heart and ticks off every necessary box I need. 

Jackson and Annette are destined for each other. And if they aren't? Jackson is going to make damn sure they are. Well, Annette...poor Annette she wants to protect her poor battered heart. But her panties seem to fly off every time the HAWT sheriff graces the doorway. But they more than the sum of single sheriff hooking up with the single bookseller. It's about finding the one that ticks all your boxes and then some. Ms Canterbary again delivers accessible characters you can't help but root for their HEA. But let's discuss the elephant in the room. 

Brooke.

I seriously had to re-write this review because I have a serious case of girl crushing. She is my book BBF-separted-at-birth-spirit-animal. Most of my friends will see the tell-it-like-it-is-don't-care-who-is-listening.  So here is my plea: Brooke needs a book. The. End. 


If you are new to Kate Canterbary's work, this is a fabulous introduction to her talent as a storywriter. Although, the story is set in the Talbott's Cove world, readers will not need to read Fresh Catch (but why would you do that?). Kate spins the story with bringing the reader up to speed and into the story flawlessly. Are you already a fan? Because seriously you should be. You are absolutely going to fall for this pair. 5 out of 5 pastry heaven stars. 




Chapter One
Jackson


For five minutes every morning, my life was pure agony.

On most days, I went out of my way to avoid her. I scheduled myself for early patrols or wellness checks on some of my elderly residents. Anything to get out of the station. It was a necessity. I couldn't see to the public safety of this town with my dick harder than a nightstick.

I knew because I'd tried. The squad was too small for briefings from behind a podium. When it came to positioning a clipboard or the sheriff's standard-issue campaign hat over my crotch, I could only hold that pose for a few minutes.

Oh, I'd tried to hide it but the only solution was staying away from the station and the sweetheart of Talbott's Cove, Annette Cortassi. The bookstore she owned on Main Street was no more than fifty yards from my desk and I had a front row seat for her morning rituals.

Annette walked down the street as if surrounded by moonbeams and unicorns, her smile radiant. I didn't know it for sure, but I'd put money on her being the homecoming queen back in high school and Miss Congeniality, too. I'd also put money on her making it her life's work to torture and torment me. She was a devil in angel's clothing, I knew that to be fact.

Since my first days in this sleepy fishing town, it was the spunky brunette shopkeeper who'd stolen my attention. Annette knew how to wear the shit out of a summer dress. That woman's bare calves were a public safety hazard. And her ankles. Fuck. Since when were ankles sexy? They were bony joints, for Pete's sake. But all it took was the sight of her walking through the village in strappy sandals to turn me on.

As if the ankles weren't enough, her round hips swayed like a hypnotist's pocket watch. I couldn't avoid the sight of her sun-kissed skin or her waterfall of dark, wavy hair if I tried. More than once, I'd found myself gazing after her, hands clenched, jaw on the floor, and a puddle of drool beside it.

Annette was the brightest star in the Talbott's Cove sky. Every time I caught sight of her, I was powerless to look away. And that was why I couldn't look at all.

I was a newcomer here, still working my way into the good graces of the natives. Bedding the town sweetheart wasn't the way to those good graces, no matter how much she enjoyed it. And she'd enjoy it. I wouldn't have it any other way.

But that didn't matter. For the time being, I was sleeping alone. A temporary vow of chastity was the right thing to do. The town deserved my full attention, and my predecessor had made it clear I was to lead by example. No boozing, no gambling, no skirt-chasing. Not unless I wanted a one-way ticket back to Albany.

I wasn't much of a boozer, gambler, or skirt-chaser, but I heeded the previous sheriff's warnings nonetheless. Getting this job was a big step up for me. It was an even bigger step away.

In the span of a couple of months, I'd left my job and sold my home in upstate New York and headed for this town on Maine's rocky coast. It was a bold move, but a necessary one. I wanted to find a different pace of life, and somewhere I could do important work and make some small difference.

I didn't say it in job interviews or mention it in conversation, but I also wanted to belong somewhere. Maybe, eventually, belong to someone.

I shot the clock on my SUV's dashboard a bitter glare. I'd already looped the town twice this morning, fielded complaints about a pair of foxes lurking around the Lincolns' chicken coop, helped the innkeepers fix a section of their back fence that went down last night, and mediated a dispute between fisherman over some missing buoys. So far, a productive morning and yet I still had fifteen minutes before Annette would be tucked inside her shop.

I'd only managed to speak to her a handful of times. It wasn't nerves that kept me away but a complete inability to look at her without wanting to step into her personal space and smell her hair. I didn't understand that reaction and a part of me resented Annette for surfacing it. Hair-smelling. What kind of witch was she?

Instead of doing or saying something I'd regret, I kept my distance. This small town didn't allow for any true distance but I didn't have to watch her scrawl the quote of the day on the shop's chalkboard sign or arrange and rearrange potted plants on the sidewalk.

Just the thought of her kneeling down to write in one of her gauzy sundresses drew a knot of want low in my belly. She was beautiful and alluring in the most simple, honest ways. Hell, she couldn't jot down a Dickinson quote without lighting a fire inside me from across the street.

But I couldn't get Annette messy and dirty. I couldn't make her scream my name. Not unless I was also ready to wife her up, and I wasn't sure about that. I couldn't casually date her with the entire town watching—and they would watch—and chances were good I couldn't casually fuck her either. She looked altogether too by-the-book for fuck buddies, and there was no room for a tomcat sheriff around here.

That left me killing time by patrolling the town's back roads and praying the lovely book mistress was on time today. My cock couldn't take any mix-ups this morning.



Kate Canterbary doesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since.

Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.




Thursday, June 28, 2018

Release Day: Time to tap into your darker reading side - Auctioned by Cara Dee





Auctioned by Cara Dee

Title: Auctioned
Genre: Gay Romance
Pairing: Crime/Suspense

Amazon US: http://bit.ly/amus-auction
Amazon CAN: http://bit.ly/amca-auction
Amazon AUS: http://bit.ly/amau-auction
Amazon DE: https://amzn.to/2ttUZ8q
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/amuk-auction
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/good-auction
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/smash-auction
Paperback: https://www.caradeewrites.com/

Synopsis:

Gray Nolan’s biggest problem in life was the torch he carried for his closeted coach. He was just another happy-go-lucky dude, a college student and hockey player, when his ordinary existence was interrupted, and he became a human trafficking statistic.
He and seven other young men were taken aboard a luxurious yacht where they were to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Gray was beaten, shattered, and almost defeated by the time his buyer stepped out of the shadows in a swirl of his own cigarette smoke.
He was Gray’s new owner.
Darius Quinn had vowed never again to find himself in a situation like this. His days as a private military contractor were over. No more missions, no more risks, no more personal attachments. Yet, here he was, after weeks of searching, face-to-face with his broken prize.
It was time to get the knucklehead back to his family.
Quick and easy was Darius’s plan.
Then everything went sideways. 




My Review:

This story is definitely not for the faint of heart. There are definite subject matters that may not appeal to certain readers. Although a well-written, intriguing story, who would I recommend it to? Where does this 'fit' in my ideal escapism of romance reading? 

This is Grey's story who you met from Power Play (which I loved). This is not romance or connective relationship story. Be prepared for something different and tragic. Whereas at the end of every Cara Dee story, no matter what the characters endure, you have hope. Do I have hope for Grey? He is going to have a very long, and troubled journey not one I can ever see him recovering fully from. Darius story is what I hope is next. I left the story unsure how I feel about him. 

Although book 1 of 4 is not same-sex romance us fans expect, it is a harsh look at the realities of human trafficking and impacts of emotionality to the victims. Cara Dee submerses the reader in Grey's high tension story and leaves you wondering how much more can one person endure. I ended the experience feeling wrung out but curious to where next she'll take us in the storytelling.


Excerpt:

They were saving Gray for last.
With each guy they hauled out of the room, he grew more despondent and withdrawn. He’d managed to get on his feet again, but he could barely move without an explosion of hurt unfurling inside him. So he stood silent, face impassive and smeared with blood, eyes unseeing, as another guy was up.
The worst part was when they screamed wherever they were. Gray guessed a deck or two above him.
Were they getting raped yet?
He knew it was coming.
He stiffened as the door opened once more, and this time, it was Cole’s turn. His features were set; he’d braced himself for whatever was to come. Or so Gray hoped. He couldn’t imagine any of them had a clue what they were in for.
Least of all Gray. Were they gonna kill him? He’d watched enough movies to know what “make an example of someone” usually meant.
Milo was next, and he looked pleadingly at Gray. “Please do something,” he whimpered. “I’ve never—I can’t—please, Gray. P-please!”
Gray clenched his jaw and said nothing, because what the fuck could he do? The door was shut, leaving him alone. He listened. He couldn’t not listen. Compelled and beating himself up, he strained his ears to hear every torturous plea.
It was quiet for some time, and then…then the screaming began. It mingled with muffled sobs and sharp, choking sounds. And low rumbles of laughter. There was even applause. Gray’s stomach revolted and tightened. Nausea crept higher and higher. Milo was being abused, and low-life perverts found that funny.
The world became a dark place for Gray. Hope had dwindled enough that he couldn’t see it anymore. He lost faith in humanity and sent a glance skyward as his eyes welled up. Mom, I love you. Gage, Gideon, Gabriel, Aiden, Isla, the little niece or nephew I never got to meet…I love you, and I’m sorry.
When the door was opened a final time, Gray was resigned. Benny stood there with sinister glee in his eyes, and of course, the brute wanted his fun, too. Gray accepted two fists to his face before he fell back against the wall, pain spreading like wildfire. Memories from better times that had been rolling past slowly gained speed as if he somehow knew time was running out.
Two men had to support Gray’s weight on the way out of the cabin. His head hung, flickers of memories battling against fatigue and hurt. He couldn’t see where they were going, and when they encountered a set of stairs, he stumbled and lurched. He focused on the faces of his family. Mostly, Mom and his three brothers. The recent additions were his stepdad—Aiden—his daughter Isla, and Isla’s fiancĂ©, Jack. Gray loved the expansion of their family. The day he’d learned Isla was pregnant, he’d been so fucking thrilled. Now he’d never get to spoil his niece or nephew. 
Something warm trickled down his face. He didn’t know if it was blood or tears. Maybe a combination of both.
Gray was shoved into a large room, and the first glance with blurry vision made it look empty. Then he blinked and noticed there were booths along the far wall. The lighting was poor and focused on the middle, shadows cast everywhere. And he didn’t care anymore. He gave up registering things.
“Your toy, sir,” Benny said gruffly.
Vanya approached from the sidelines with a playful little smile, and the meatheads dropped Gray in the middle of the floor. He swallowed hard, his bleary gaze getting stuck on spots of red on the gray carpet. Once he saw a couple splatters, he noticed more. They were all over the center of the floor. Blood, then blotches of darker gray—maybe tears, sweat. Semen. The room reeked of it. A long silk robe came into view, the red fabric dancing around Vanya’s feet. He squatted next to Gray and patted his head.
“There, there.” Vanya’s voice was still angelic and impossibly sweet. “Maybe we’ll get to play more in another life. Mother said you’re a bit of a moron.”
Jesus, he was deranged.
Red sauntered closer, her thin metal cane ready to be used if needed. She didn’t treat Gray as gently. Fisting his hair, she yanked him up on his knees, to which he hissed through clenched teeth.
They faced the darkened booths.
“Dear guests,” Red purred, “I value my customers more than anything, and I would never lie to you.” She slid the cane under Gray’s chin, lifting it slightly. “This young man is more trouble than he’s worth. Should you make a bid, you need to know you’ll be getting a mouthy, rebellious hellion.” With a sharp rap of the cane against his stomach, she ordered Gray to stand up.
He did so on wobbly legs. He’d reached his limit for torture for the moment and didn’t want another bruise to his name.
“If there are no buyers on this animal,” Red continued, “I’ll offer him up as a treat for anyone and everyone—provided that you don’t take him to your staterooms. He’ll be available here in the central den throughout our journey.” She paused. “Now. Let’s see if there are any takers first. Starting at two hundred thousand, this wild boy could be yours. He’s got gorgeous skin that scars nicely, doesn’t he?” She shifted the cane along Gray’s torso, and he swallowed against the vomit that rose. “As you can see on the menu, he is twenty-one years old and built for hot, sadistic grapples. He’s six feet tall, weighs in at one hundred and eighty-nine pounds, and has the temper of an Irishman. If you keep him chained, he could bring you immense pleasure for years.”
Gray steadied his breathing. Aside from a few barely there sounds of rustling and a throat clearing here and there, he wouldn’t know there were people sitting in the booths.
“Lovely abs…” The whisper came from Vanya. Gray had almost forgotten him. Then the psycho kid from hell was tracing the muscles on his lower stomach. “My last toy called them come gutters.” He giggled in delight.
Gray shuddered.
Someone coughed. “Two hundred.” That someone was British and had a meek voice.
“Ah, we have a bidder.” Red sounded both surprised and pleased. “Two hundred—”
“Two-fifty.”
Gray swung his tired gaze to the corner, the first booth there, and tried to see who it was. That man’s voice was like low thunder doused in whiskey.
“Two hundred and seventy-five,” the Brit said impatiently.
“Three hundred.”
“Well, well,” Red purred. “Three hundred for the handsome Mr. B.”
The British man got irritated. “Three hundred and twenty.”
“Three-fifty.”
Silence.
Red ordered Gray to kneel again, and he merely dropped.
There was an insufferable huff coming from the booth where Gray believed the British man sat, but nothing else.
Gray didn’t know what to think. This was his life. His freedom. Yet, two men were bidding on it. It was incomprehensible.
“Going once,” Red said in a teasing tone. After a pause, it was made clear. “Mr. B, the heathen is yours. We hope to enjoy your show.”
Oh fuck. Gray connected the dots. The auction was through, and once his life was no longer his own… It’d happened to the other guys. Eventually, he’d heard most of them scream in terror and agony.
A large man stepped out of the shadows in a swirl of his own cigarette smoke. Gray’s eyes flicked between his briefcase, bespoke suit, and cut jaw. The rest was hazy. He couldn’t focus. A headache was beginning to pull him under, and it was gonna be a big one. Mr. B didn’t speak. Under the low light, his brown hair took on a lighter shade.
A stool appeared, delivered by a goon who quickly backed off. The man who now supposedly owned Gray set his briefcase on the stool and flicked open the lid.
Red and Vanya backed away, too.
Gray had lost all his strength. He remained kneeling on the floor and averted his gaze. This was it.
Mr. B approached and stood before a defeated Gray. There was a grip on his jaw, and Gray was forced to look up. His double vision prevented him from registering anything other than a set of hazel eyes brimming with severity and determination. He swallowed weakly as the man dipped and leaned in close. There was a whisper in Gray’s ear.
“Forgive me.”
A heartbeat later, Gray took a hard blow to the temple that shot his head sideways and knocked him out.

About Cara:

I'm often stoically silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there's so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex. There's a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly. Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve. Additionally, I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, and geeking. There's time for hockey and cupcakes, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

Website: https://www.caradeewrites.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/caradeewrites/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cara-dee
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CaraDeeWrites
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carawrites/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6936449.Cara_Dee

Monday, June 18, 2018

A second chance romance debut: Cover Reveal for No One But You by Alexandra Silva




Title: No One But You
Author: Alexandra Silva
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Tickle MEdia
Release Date: July 27, 2018



Blurb

QUINCY

They say bad things happen in threes… 

I made a mistake. I kissed the right boy, but married the wrong man. They were friends. Best friends. Until my life fell apart.
Everything changed.
Something was stolen and then something was given in its place. 
I had so much in my grasp, maybe it was too much because everything started slipping. 
My son.
My husband.
My sanity.
Only one thing remained the same.
My first crush.
My first kiss.
My first love.

JAMIE

They say you can’t miss what you’ve never had…

But I swear I had her. At least for one kiss.
I left the right girl and tried to replace her with the wrong woman.
It didn’t work because I still missed her.
I promised my best friend I’d always look after his little sister. And our other best friend promised to never break her heart.
He lied.
I didn’t.

We have circled each other all our lives but our time never came. 
We’ve never had our moment until now.


ADD TO GOODREADS





Pre-order Links

99c for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

“A penny for your thoughts?”
I swear every time he talks to me my heart just about explodes out of my chest. Jamie’s voice is so different. It’s changed. It’s deeper and rumbly, and it makes me think and imagine things that I don’t usually go out of my way to think about let alone imagine. It makes my belly do acrobatics and my mouth water.
How is that possible? How can his voice alone do that to me?
“Are you still angry with me?” He asks as he sits on the edge of the hot tub my parents had installed on the first floor balcony.
It’s such a pretty view. The water and the trees that surround one side of it with all the beautiful grey, white and light blue lake houses that line it in a cosy and enclosed U. You can just make out the green rolling hills surrounding us with the large church spire just about breaking the treeline. It’s just so wonderfully beautiful.
“I’m not upset with you,” I hear myself reply even though I am a little.
To be honest I think I’m a little more heartbroken that he’s leaving than I am angry. I was so looking forward to having Jamie around at Oxford, but he’s going to do an Overseas Exchange to UCLA so he can learn from some great minds like Doctor Wilson Weller—a teaching and practicing Neurosurgery god. Or whatever Jamie calls him. Phillip decided to stay close to home at UCL even though he got an offer to Oxford just like Jamie and Richard did three years ago. He doesn’t want to leave his new girlfriend, Jamie’s sister and one of my best friends, behind. I think I’m a little bit jealous of them, even if am happy for them. Jamie is just coming round to the idea, and I know that the only reason why he came to find me is probably because he still doesn’t know how to handle them being so touchy and lovey dovey with one another.
“You’re not?” He shuffles closer until the side of his thigh touches mine.
His legs are different too. They have a light smattering of hair that kind of matches his chest and the trail down from his navel. I can’t help but run my eyes down his slightly defined torso and down the light trail of fuzz that leads down to the top of his shorts, all the way down his shorts to his thighs and knees.
I’m so distracted by all his golden skin that I don’t even realise how fast my heart is beating until I feel the hammering in my chest pulsing up my neck to the back of my throat.
 Seriously?
My skin heats as he wraps his arm around my bare shoulders. His thumbs lightly strumming the string holding my bikini top up around my neck. It’s like the sun shines brighter in that moment and the UV rays become laser strong and solely focused on me.
“Then why did you throw the Uni hamper we gave you in the bin?”
“Because it’s stupid. I don’t need wine and condoms and…”
“You say that now, but when you get there you’ll be thankful. You don’t want to be caught short, the dial-a-condom service isn’t as discreet or anonymous as you think.”
“Guys don’t even look at me like that.” I shrug.
He goes super still next to me. His arm becomes slightly heavier on my shoulders and his thumb tucks under the halter neck string of my red bikini top. He clears his throat and I can hear his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“Quincy, that’s not true. Believe me, my sisters have made it a point to tell me every chance they get.”
He pulls me closer to him so that I have no other option but to rest my head on his shoulder.
“Why would they do that?” I mumble into the soft skin of his shoulder.
It’s shiny and taught. It wraps flawlessly around his lean muscled arms with the odd sun freckle here and there. He smells briny and citrusy. A combination of his cologne, sweat and the lake water.
I inhale deeply as his shoulders shake with humour.
Wait, why is he laughing at me?
“Why are you laughing at me?”
He clears his throat again before he sighs, “You have no idea.”
“No idea of what?”
Our eyes lock as I look up at him. His bright blue eyes are like ocean blue sparkling glass as the sun lights them up. They have these silvery grey flecks that bleed to the edges of his irises and form these thin dark rings that are only marginally lighter than his pupil.
“You’re so pretty…so beautiful…”
It’s like he can read my mind and steal the words on the tip of my tongue as he reaches for my hair with his hand and wraps it with my long tresses.
And if my heart wasn’t already hammering into my ribcage it’s now batter ramming its way out like it’s trying to break free or get closer to his heart.
I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t actually say anything. I can’t verbalise with the way that he’s looking at me. The way his eyes are eating up every inch of my face and the way they flitter down to my chest and then up to my lips.
His wet and shiny pink tongue darts out and moistens his lower lip before he draws said lip in with his teeth and bites down so hard that the blood and colour drain around the trenches his teeth have made.
I can’t help but mimic him with my own tongue and lips and teeth. He gasps lightly and as my eyes meet his again the pupils are so big that there is only a perfectly slim ring of silver speckled cerulean surrounding them. And I can’t breathe. The air feels too hot and dry. And thick? Why does the air feel so thick? It feels like I’m filling my lungs with invisible oil. My lungs feel so full that they have to push the air back out in deep and long unsteady breaths.
The arm around my shoulders falls and he brings his hand up to cup my cheek. And I know what’s happening because I’ve seen it in films and I’ve seen other people around us kiss. I can even kind of picture it in my mind—what we must look like right now. But I still can’t quite comprehend why he’s coming closer to me. Why his breathing is just as manic as mine. I can’t understand why he’s about to kiss me with wide eyes and desperate breaths. The hand in my hair tugs slightly and my face tilts marginally so that our lips touch.
Oh, God.
His warm lips are so soft and so tender as they brush over mine and I want to throw my arms around his neck, straddle his lap and just fucking devour him.
Fuck, I’m like some lust crazed person.
I don’t even know how I manage to stay so still with all those thoughts and all the electricity zapping through me.
I don’t know what to do next. If I should open my mouth or lick his lips. Whether I should touch him. I want to touch. I am touching him.
He’s groaning as he licks my lips and as my hands hold on to his waist so tight that my nails bite into his flesh. But then it’s not just my nails biting into his skin, it’s his teeth sinking into my lower lip. It’s his hand cupping my face so hard that I know it should hurt, I know that it’ll leave a mark, but I don’t care because it feels so fucking good. It’s his fingers weaving so tightly into my hair that the sting makes me want to pull on his hair too.
I can’t help the strangled moan that escapes my mouth as he slips his tongue inside and licks my own.
I’ve never kissed or been kissed like this before and even though I’m unpractised and new to this, my hands seem to be in the know as they travel brazenly down his sides to the top of his swimming shorts and as unsure as I am, I know that I want to slip my hands under the elastic and become acquainted with every last inch of his sexy skin.
Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever used that word to describe another person, let alone a boy…a man. Jamie.
He grumbles a shallow growl right at the back of his throat as my fingertips skim around the navy elastic of his shorts. His tongue licks deeper and twirls around mine.
I want more. I want to tell him that I want it too, but I don’t want to stop kissing him back and I have this unsure tightness in chest that makes me bashful and fearful that he’d reject me anyway.
I want him to touch me in ways that I’ve only heard other girls boast and brag that they’d been touched. I want his mouth and his tongue to taste a lot more than just my own.
Before I even realise it we’re both standing in the middle of the warm, soft rolling water and his hands are squeezing my bum cheeks to the point that I think they’ll leave bruises. And it makes me feel excited in ways that I’ve never felt before and it makes me feel like a livewire.
All this and he never stops our kiss. His tongue tastes mine with a ferocity that feels like years of need all at once. I rove my hands up his sides and his back, relishing the feel of his muscles pulling and tightening under his hot skin. By the time my hands round to his chest and travel up to his hair our bodies are completely flush and my boobs feel even bigger and heavier than they already are. My nipples feel sore like they’re being pinched and pulled and there’s this familiar, yet new ache that’s building between my legs and the bubbling water is only making that ache stronger whilst making it feel better at the same time.
I’ve never felt the arousal of a man, but I can feel his and it’s pressing deliciously to my lower belly. I feel the heat creep up my neck and flush my cheeks and all I want to do is find a way of getting closer. My fingers tighten their grip in his sun bleached brown hair and I can’t help but pull him down to me, even as I feel him softly pull away.
No. Please don’t stop.






Author Bio


Alexandra Silva is a lover of words and romance. She blames the classics and a nutty English teacher for her obsession with books and fiction. Come rain or shine with either coffee or wine in hand you can find her with her nose stuck in a book and her head in the clouds. She lives in London outnumbered by her very loud boys, with her very own hero and their two wild cats—Jack and Jill.



Author Links

Thursday, June 14, 2018

I have more than buns on my mind with this cover reveal: Hard Pressed by Kate Canterbary

And I am dead.
I need the damn book like yesterday...




They think they'll be able to keep their relationship quiet and casual, and free from feelings.
They're wrong.

Title: Hard Pressed
Author: Kate Canterbary
Cover Design: Anna Crosswell, 
Release Date: June 29, 2018

Blurb:

Dear Jackson,
I'm leaving you this note because I know you're very busy and I don't want to waste the town sheriff's time. Lord knows I've already wasted enough of it.

Thank you for taking me home last night and...everything else. I made you a basket of wild blueberry muffins for your trouble. That seemed like the appropriate baked good for getting naked in your living room.

I wasn't myself last night. I didn't mean to kiss you or fondle your backside or ask all those intimate questions. Thank you for pretending to enjoy it.

It was very noble of you to sleep on the couch while I was starfished on your bed. I couldn't help but notice it's quite large. The bed, that is. I swear, I didn't notice anything else when I let myself out this morning.

As you know, Talbott's Cove is a ridiculously small town and there's no chance we can avoid each other. Not that I'd want to avoid you, of course, but I'm not sure I can look at you without thinking of the forty different ways I made a fool of myself.

Instead of avoidance, let's try to be friends. We'll forget all about last night…if that's what you want.

Please burn this note after you read it—

Annette

p.s. I whipped up some cinnamon buns, too. Please enjoy them. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't get buns out of my mind today.


FollowKate Canterbaryat Book+Mainfor exclusive Hard Pressedcontent!
(Plus, stay up-to-date with The Magnolia Chronicles, a multi-part women’s fiction story, #exclusive to Book+Main)

Pre-Order:


Author Bio:

Kate Canterbarydoesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since.

Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.

Author Links:



http://facebook.com/PandaAndBoodle

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

     

Fixed Forever (Fixed book #5) by Laurelin Paige
Chapter 1 Reveal: June 4th, 2018
Release Date: June 25th 2018
   
PREORDER FIXED FOREVER TODAY!
Amazon International → http://myBook.to/FixedForever
     

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE:

https://laurl.in/FF-chapterone

                         

BLURB
Hudson Pierce-
You act so high and mighty, you and your perfect pregnant wife Alayna. With your perfect child and your perfect home.
You weren't always perfect. Your past is filled with misdeeds.
Does your wife know all your secrets?
Would she stand behind you if she did?
You think because she’s on bedrest you can protect her? How sweet.
Sleep tight, you two.
-An Old Friend.
   
Want to watch Laurelin READ the synopsis for FIXED FOREVER?! Head to USA TODAY’S HEA TO WATCH https://usat.ly/2pKpsML


                          

About Laurelin
With over 1 million books sold, Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn't seem to complain, however. When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

                                                        

CONNECT WITH LAURELIN PAIGE

Twitter: @LaurelinPaige
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