Zara Stoneley's Blog, page 11

Winners!! And the 'Look' Challenge!

Well Christmas is certainly on its way! We've had our first frosts, my Christmas story is available on Amazon - and I've got winners to announce from my recent blog tour for 'Riding High'.

So, first things first... a massive thanks to Doris O'Connor for hosting me on her blog http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.co.uk/ and the winner of a copy of 'Riding High' is Rhonda D.

And big thanks to Kath too at http://www.bookreviewsandmorebykathy.com/ and the winner of a copy of 'Forfeit' or 'Freefalling' is Laurie G.

I got tagged by Jane Linfoot recently to take part in the Look challenge... so I've got a snippet from 'Good Enough to Share' for you containing look/looked/looking... and I am tagging Allie A Burrow, Christy McKellen and Tea Cooper - go for it girls!!

My snippet... (warning, this is a cheeky one!)


And, as I watch he closes his eyes, throws his head back, his perfect lips parting as they always do in that moment of suspense just before he comes. And I can’t stop myself looking down, and all I can see is his cock, his slender, long cock in a firm male hand, a hand that is pumping him with steady assured strokes. A hand that isn’t his. A hand that just over twelve months ago shattered my complacent little world into a zillion sharp splinters, and made me open up my mind and my heart….

Would you share?

Fancy something hot for Christmas? I'd certainly find it very hard to say no to the guy on the cover of my new release 'Good Enough to Share', but would I share him?! Hmm, let me think....

Anyway, here's a bit about the book and an excerpt. It's been released on Amazon (links below), but the sample won't be available until early next week, so I thought I'd share with you here!



GOOD ENOUGH TO SHARE (Good Enough, Book 1 – Christmas) An erotic contemporary romance, including menage, F/M/F, M/F/M and sex outdoors.

One Christmas, four friends – but will they still be together by New Year?
Divorce wasn’t part of the plan for Holly, but then again nor was spending the festive period with two sexy men and Santa’s little helper! With a disastrous marriage behind her, and three good friends who are willing to share, moving on could be fun – if only she can accept that sometimes her heart is wiser than her head.
Dane doesn’t do commitment, which suits Holly just fine. But when things heat up between the four friends, he’s forced to face up to his past. Will realising he’s good enough mean he no longer wants to share…?
Laid back Charlie knows that if his best friend becomes his lover he could end up losing big time. But can he resist? And when the girl he once loved comes back, who will he decide to spend the New Year with?
…And Sophie just wants to have fun. She’s got the answers to everyone's problems, except her own …. is she the one who needs good friends most of all?
Will a caring, sharing, lust and love filled Christmas lead to the happy ever after they all desire?

WARNING - Christmas may never seem the same again!
AVAILABLE FROM - Amazon(UK), Amazon (US) 
EXCERPT

Prologue

Shit happens–isn’t that what you told me Sophie? Some things that you are certain should be a part of your life never materialize. And things you never thought in a million years you’d do just pop up, and before you know it you’ve nodded your head and gone off down a road you never knew existed. Last year was shit and sugar, the sweetest time I never thought I’d have, topped and tailed with stuff I’d just rather forget, and it scares me. Why? Because whatever happens this year can’t match up, can it?

So before you know it twelve months has whizzed by and it’s the start of another bright, new, shiny year full of promise, but the one thing I do know is life just isn’t ever going to be quite the same again.

How the hell am I going to write in this diary every damned day? Nibbling the end of the pen isn’t exactly helping on the inspiration front at all. But diaries aren’t really for boring everyday stuff are they? They’re for revelations, witty repartee, for clever insights and ‘Confucius say’ type declarations of wisdom. Not to record the price of fish and whether I’ve opted for the sensible shoes or killer heels.

It was a typical Sophie thing to give it me as a parting present. She’d pressed it into my hands on New Year’s Eve, just as we’d clambered into bed in a slightly tipsy way, and she’d made me promise, before I’d even unwrapped the damn thing, that I would follow the request inside. And now it is New Year’s Day, and she’s gone–and like the good girl I am, I’m trying to keep my promise.

Bugger. Maybe every day is pushing it, maybe I should just fill up the whole of January right now with one rambling metaphorical outpouring from my jumbled up mind.

So here comes January, my darling Sophie, and it’s got me wondering already. Somehow everything that has happened over the last twelve months to us all wasn’t a surprise to you, was it? It was as though you knew exactly where we were heading. Did you plan it all? It makes me feel slightly less sad about how things have worked out, slightly less sad about you going - if that was what you had in your mind all along. But I’m still going to miss you like hell, even if you can be a bit of a pain in the ass at times.

Yeah Sophie could be a pain. Pushy, opinionated, so full of bubble and life that at times I just wanted to sit on her, shut her up, make her stop and listen. Make her just stop. But she couldn’t, never had. Not until now. Not until she’d finally given herself permission to find some ‘me time’.

I thought I knew you so well Sophie, but now I realize that you managed to shut me right out with your jokes, your hugs and your giving. Yeah, you did a good job of making sure you didn’t let any of us reach that hurt little part of you deep inside. But I still love you, Soph. This year has taught me so much about myself and I think it’s done something for you too. At least I hope so. I hope that you find what you’re looking for out there, and that you’ll come back and tell us it was all worthwhile.

Anyhow, this is my diary and I’ll do my best to do what you wanted me to and fill the bloody thing in. To write it all down so that this time next year we can swap and it’ll be like we never missed a day. My diary, to you and to Charlie, from both of us. Because without Dane there probably won’t be much to tell.

Holly x

I put a strong line straight across under my name, a mix of frustration and hurt that leaves a jagged scar on the page and then I smudge away the splash that isn’t allowed to be a tear from the edge of the page and turned to stare out of the window.

It looks cold outside, icy fresh like it’s supposed to be at this time of the year but seldom is. I rest my elbows on the uneven windowsill and my breath mists up the glass inviting me to trace a pattern, so I do.

I trace our initials on the cold pane like some overgrown kid. H, D and then the C, the C for Charlie that curled around the others, holding them together, and then I add the S. The letter that links and tangles our lives until you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends. The letters start to fade, condensation dripping, bleeding them together and I press my forehead over them, close my eyes to block out the frosted trees, the ice-edged leaves, to invite in the people who make up my life.

It surprises me, but the image pricking at the back of my eyelids isn’t Charlie, it isn’t Dane, it is James. Blond-haired, blue-eyed James, standing there as clear as day, all neat and tidy. The most perfect man in the world, the man I’d stood next to in the church of dreams, the man who had slipped that band of precious gold onto my finger. A promise. Forever, until death do us part.

And, as I watch he closes his eyes, throws his head back, his perfect lips parting as they always do in that moment of suspense just before he comes. And I can’t stop myself looking down, and all I can see is his cock, his slender, long cock in a firm male hand, a hand that is pumping him with steady assured strokes. A hand that isn’t his. A hand that just over twelve months ago shattered my complacent little world into a zillion sharp splinters, and made me open up my mind and my heart….



Chapter One

“Stuff Australia, who needs surf and sand when you’ve got me? We are going to make this the best Christmas ever. We’re going to share everything.”

“Everything?” I raise an eyebrow and Sophie gives a dirty laugh.

“Everything.” Charlie grins in a way that turns him from geek to mischief-maker, his dirty blond hair making him look like some wayward angel. “We’re going to have a really laid-back, do what we want kind of Christmas. Deal?” He tops up my glass with white wine before I have a chance to object. “What about you, Soph, are you going to join the debauchery?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’ll have another glass of wine, yes.” She held out her glass for a top up. “Christmas Day I think I’ll be stuffing the turkey for my little sis.”

“You can count me in, Charlie.” I planted a kiss on his day old stubble. “But without the debauchery.” There were a lot of worse ways to spend Christmas, like on my own. My folks had made their plan for the festive season while I was still happily delusional about married life, and so I hadn’t been part of them. Instead I’d dropped them off at the airport in the early hours and driven back home, with the knackered heater in the car blowing out cold air, wondering just what kind of Christmas this was going to be.

And Charlie? Well, Charlie always skated round the issue of his family and, from what Sophie had told me, I gathered he did Christmas with friends or not at all. He’d never really explained why, just twittered on about freedom of choice and ideals and some other meaningless crap which wasn’t him at all. But for once he’d been a closed shop. No comment.

I could have gate-crashed my parents trip to the Australian sunshine, but I didn’t want to. Too many questions and too many sympathetic looks, a drunken geek fest with Charlie sounded a far better idea.

We’d met at University and clicked instantly; you know how you can like someone before they even open their mouth? It was that. He was clever, he was a bit of a hunk, he was funny and he was laid-back almost to the point of horizontal. Charlie was one of those people who just made life taste good.

When we graduated I moved down South to take up my dream job and we drifted apart slightly, and then the drift became more of a rift when I met my dream man. James.

Charlie visited once or twice but it had been awkward, he and James had been chalk and cheese, they just hadn’t liked each other at all. And when he’d come to the wedding it felt like he was saying goodbye, a brief awkward standoff. Then the guy I called my best friend had gone off to shag the chief bridesmaid, muttering something about never trusting a man who looked like he spent more time in the bathroom than you did, and in a blink of an eye he’d become my ex-best friend.

I forgave him. I put it down to jealousy at first, but I’d been so high up in the clouds that I must have been suffering from oxygen shortage, or some kind of hormonal disorder that affected my brain. And it wasn’t until those cotton wool clouds got blown abruptly right out of the sky that I discovered he was right. And being the friend he was, he just picked me up and dusted me off without once actually saying it. And he forgave me. And it had just seemed logical that when I decided I needed a new life, a new job, everything, it was up here, in Cheshire, with Charlie and Sophie.

“Don’t let the wine get warm, Holly berry, drink to it.”

“Well, it’s a deal as long as the pair of you don’t make me wear anything as ridiculous as this ever again.” I was more holly leaf than holly berry right now and it was all Sophie’s fault. Sophie, the girl who could charm the birds right out of the trees.

I flipped up the hem of my green tunic and she laughed. A full bodied, warm your soul type of laugh that made every red-blooded male in the bar turn and glance our way.

How on earth I’d let her persuade me to dress up as one of Santa’s little helpers I do not know. Even the words ‘good cause’ don’t usually sway it with me if it involves dressing up and looking an idiot, though in this case undressing was a better description.

Charlie gave the bottom an experimental tug of his own, his fingers fluttering briefly against my barely covered buttocks and I gave him the thump he deserved. I suppose it could have been worse, I could have been a reindeer.

When I’d first met him he’d come across as fairly reserved, and then he’d introduced me to his old mate Sophie and I saw a whole new side of him. Sophie was an indestructible force of nature, but a nice one. It made it far, far harder to say no to anything she suggested. Which I was discovering was dangerous.

“If you’re going to start thumping me, I’m off.”

“You were going anyway.”

“I was. Don’t wait up, I could be late.”

“As in tomorrow morning?” Since I’d taken up Charlie’s offer of a room we’d settled into the comfortable routine of an old married couple. Well, hopefully not the old bit, but very routine. Takeaway pizzas, old films, comfortable pajamas and a goodnight kiss before we went our separate ways to bed. Some nights I’d be out with Sophie, sometimes the three of us would hit the town, and sometimes, just sometimes, Charlie would do a disappearing act.

He grinned and drained his glass. I’d never seen him with a girlfriend, or a boyfriend come to that, his stay-out-late vice just seemed to be the occasional poker game. Unless he just wasn’t telling.

“Later.” He ruffled my hair, blew a kiss at Soph and managed to flip up my tunic again all in one easy movement, and headed for the door before I could retaliate.

I’d never really looked at Charlie before, you know, properly looked - because he was more like a geeky big brother. The annoying idiot who always stole the game controller from you, the guy who laughed at your high heels and told you the tart look was hot this season. The guy who was always there to cuddle up to and offer wise words when you’d had a shit day. But for some reason I was looking now, well staring, at his trim bum that his expensive chinos were hugging like a second skin. And I felt tempted, very tempted.

“Can he surf?”

“What?” Sophie gave me her ‘you’ve grown two heads’ look. Shit I’d done that speaking out loud thing when it was supposed to be in my head.

“I was just wondering. He just looks like he should be on a surf board in the sun somewhere.”

“Oh yeah, sure. The sun kissed beaches of Anglesey.” Sophie did sarcasm well, very well.

“They don’t get breakers there do they? I was thinking more sun-drenched Australia.”

“Is there something in your wine that I’ve missed out on?” She was right, it was a bit random, but I have this thing with people where I tend to imagine what they really should be doing, and I’d just had this startling image of Charlie with his hair slightly longer, and his body slightly more toned. He’d make a good surfer dude.

“Anyway, forget Charlie, I’ve just spotted something much better.”

The evil glint in her eye, and the instant switch-on of her sultry smile should have warned me, but being one drink up and a bit slow on the uptake I swung round to follow the line of her sight. And really wished I had kept my head turned and my nose buried in my wine glass.

“You two out on the pull then?” You know how some deep male voices have that perfect resonance to vibrate right down to the bottom of your stomach and beyond? Yeah, that. I was blushing from the inside out and I had completely and utterly forgotten about Charlie, with or without a surfboard.

Christ, why was it that every time Dane Stephens popped up I was dressed in something that either said ‘shag me, I’m a complete tart’ or ‘I’m a complete saddo’? Or in this case a mixture of both. The fact that Sophie and I were propping up the bar, both with a goblet of wine in hand each didn’t help with the image much either.

“We’ve been working.” I tried to keep my face straight and stop my nipples making a break for freedom as the gorgeous guy who seemed to feature in every one of my current run of dirty dreams rested his hand on my shoulder and sent a warm thrill straight between my thighs. Along with a very strong urge to grab hold of him and give him the type of kiss that would leave a lasting impression. Gee, life would be so much easier if that kind of full frontal attack was one of my special skills. It wasn’t. Best mates with a bit of flirting thrown in as a side order was a better description of my capabilities.

I’d been having dirty dreams about Dane for as long as I can remember. Well, probably since the first time all six foot something of him had swaggered into this bar and given me the type of smile that gave me an almost, emphasis on almost here, uncontrollable urge to strip every last inch of his clothing off in slow motion. But I hadn’t, because nice girls don’t, do they?

“Been out hammering shoes on?” I tweaked a bit of straw out of his thick dark hair and resisted the urge to tangle my fingers in deeper, just in case I’d missed a bit. And then rub a hand over that broad, strong chest just for good measure. He was buff underneath that shirt, I just knew it. Well, I did actually. I’d seen him strip to the waist the odd time at the tail end of the summer when we’d actually seen a bit of that golden orb in the sky they call the sun, and he’d built up a sweat manhandling horses. And along with every other girl on the yard I’d gone weak-kneed and tried not to stare as I’d watched his muscles ripple and a trickle of sweat bead its way down his back. A bead of sweat that needed licking off.

I’d had a thing about cowboys, well, since I was fifteen when my boy friend, as in two separate words, had dragged me along to watch a western in the local cinema. His idea had been to get his tongue down my throat, but he’d faded into insignificance when the hero of the piece had got off his horse. This had been no normal cowboy, he’d been naked down to the low slung jeans that barely scraped his hips and when he’d slipped one hand under the waistband, just as he tugged the girl in for a kiss the rush of dampness to my knickers had shocked me. And left me squirming, and meant that the boy friend got an end of show, tongue twisting snog that shocked me more than as it did him.

And as I grew up I realized men like that just didn’t exist. I just never met a man who’d had the same effect on me, not even the man I’d married had done that. Until Dane had walked in four long months ago and been the nearest thing to a cowboy that the English counties had to offer. He’d probably never had a Stetson on his head, or a rifle in his hand, but I bet he’d look good on a horse and even if he didn’t, in my mind it just didn’t matter. Dane was just hot, and made me hot, and wet.

His jeans were slung just the same, so I just knew I’d be able to see his hip bones if I unbuttoned that thick cotton shirt. And boy did I want to, and I was just itching to slip my own hand tight in there. I just needed an excuse and September through December had left me too tongue-tied to find one. Even if my horse seemed to be throwing a shoe on a weekly basis and he’d been out an embarrassing number of times.

“Yeah, lots of thrown shoes, darling, you know ‘tis the season.” He winked and my mouth watered. Literally. Much more and I’d be drooling, a drooling elf who would have thought? Bugger, I really did need a plan or I’d be spending another Christmas morning just wishing I’d asked Santa for the type of toy box that had long life batteries and lube in it. But was quiet enough not to disturb Charlie. “Hi Dane, boy. We—” Sophie was practically licking her lips, he had that effect on every female old enough to have hormones, as she drew herself up to her full five-foot one and a half inches and put a hand on his arm “—have been doing our good Samaritan bit.” She knew him? I didn’t know which bit made the feeling of empty spread in my stomach, the fact that she knew him, or she knew him. Because from the way she was grinning in a slightly flirty, slightly too cosy way meant she definitely knew him. Every bit of him. ***Hope you enjoyed it!Zara x

Spotlight! New release - 'Something More' by Ella Jade

BlurbAn affair and a shocking secret threaten to tear apart a rich and powerful family.
Claudia Samson, housekeeper to the privileged Callahan family, finds herself alone and pregnant after a brief fling with Gavin, the youngest Callahan son. When she informed him of the pregnancy he accused her of running a scam and made it clear that she was on her own.
Brody Callahan, Gavin's older half-brother, has devoted his entire life to running the family business. He doesn't realize what he's been missing by throwing himself into his work until he finds Claudia asleep in the family guest bedroom. He has discovered his very own Sleeping Beauty. Intrigued by the young woman, he vows to get to know her better.
Although Claudia is instantly attracted to the charismatic businessman, she knows her secret will destroy any chance they have for a future together, but Brody's awfully hard to resist.
Meanwhile, as Gavin watches Brody and Claudia's relationship develop, he begins to devise a plan to use the secret to his advantage. He wants full partnership in the business—something he was denied by both his brother and their deceased father—and maybe now he can finally obtain it.
Can Brody and Claudia survive the storm, or will the secrets and blackmail destroy both them and their love?
Content Warning: graphic sex and some explicit language
http://beachwalkpress.com/something-more/
ExcerptAs Claudia placed the last throw pillow on the bed, she couldn’t help but think how inviting it looked. It was a little after three o’clock, and she still had an hour to work, but she was so tired, and her back was sore. She just needed to sit for a moment. She knew Angela was down at the stables and wasn’t due back for a bit, so she sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.She was only eleven weeks pregnant, but that little baby was sucking every last ounce of energy from her body. The afternoons were the worst. All she wanted to do was cuddle on the couch in her tiny apartment and sleep for an hour or two. She leaned back and sunk deep into the soft mattress. Her bed at home was nowhere near this comfortable. Everything was spotless and pretty in the guest bedroom. The sunlit room smelled like fresh-cut roses. The soft pink tones adorning the walls and curtains lulled her into a deep state of relaxation.The last thing she remembered was the white of the ceiling before she heard a voice pull her from her unintentional slumber. She felt a warm hand on her arm. As soon as she opened her eyes she realized what had happened.She’d fallen asleep, on the job, in a guest bedroom of a home she was hired to clean. As she gazed into his stunning blue eyes she tried to recover from her nap. She’d never noticed how clear his eyes were. Then again, she’d never been this close to Brody Callahan before.“Is everything okay, Ms. Samson?” He pushed a strand of his thick, dark hair from his forehead. He and Gavin had almost the same messy kind of haircut, but Brody’s hair was darker and tamer.Claudia stood from the bed much too quickly. The room swirled around her and then she lost her balance, falling against his hard, muscular chest.“Whoa.” He caught her by the forearm, staring down at her with concern. “Are you okay?”“I’m sorry, Mr. Callahan.”Could my day get any worse?
TrailerLink - http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4o6F0ibHyGw
About EllaElla Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialogue have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can't be stopped.
Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two young boys. When she's not chasing after her kids, she's busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you'll get lost in her words.
She loves connecting with readers. You can find her here ...

http://ellajadeauthor.blogspot.com/http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ella-Jade-Author/186959391390708?ref=hl

New Release! - Masquerade (The Secret Library)

What a brilliant start to the weekend, I woke up Saturday morning and was googling my name (as you do) and found out I had a new release!

My novella, 'Freefalling', was written as part of Xcite Books Secret Library series, so I knew that in February next year it would be published as part of a three story collection, and would be my first story to come out in paperback - I can't wait to get my hands on a copy! What I didn't know was that the eBook version would be out, well, right now!

The other two stories are written by the brilliant Elizabeth Coldwell and the wonderful Poppy Summers. The stories have been published as eBooks individually, but if you haven't read them yet here's a chance to grab all three together (or you can wait for that lovely, plush paperback copy in February).

Hope your weekend has been as good as mine,
Zara x

So, here are the details.....

'MASQUERADE' (The Secret Library) - A collection of three erotic romance novellas, part of the Secret Library series
Published by Xcite Books, November 2012  **Due out in Paperback February 2013 **
Available from - Xcite Books, Amazon (UK), Amazon (US)

Masquerade by Elizabeth Coldwell
Seducing Mr Storm by Poppy Summers
Freefalling by Zara Stoneley

These novellas have previously been available as individual eBooks.

Freebie and Giveaway!

Two of my stories are on offer today!

'Miss Pemberton's Drawers' is a collection of six erotic short stories, and is free on amazon from 7th - 11th November. You can grab a copy from amazon (UK) or amazon (US).

And... I'm over at D.F Krieger's blog today talking about my rescue pony - pop over and be in with a chance to win a copy of my latest erotic novel 'Riding High'. See you there!

Next Big Thing Blog Tour.....

Welcome to the "Next Big Thing" Blog Tour! Thanks to fellow writer, Tea Cooper who tagged me - make sure you read to the end of my post to check out the three great authors I've tagged to continue the chain!

Okay, so here goes…I’ve got the option of talking about my current or next release. As I’m doing a blog tour soon for ‘Riding High’ I thought I’d use this chance to talk about my next release…

• What is the title of my current work in progress?

   Too Good to Share

• Where did the idea come from for the book?

I wanted to write a friend’s to lover’s story – but make it a bit more complicated, because after all, when were relationships ever straight forward? Whether they are family, friends, or lovers there is so much potential for exploring what we really want, how much of ourselves we show to different people, how we interact, how important the relationships are… and how we all react differently when those relationships start to fall apart.
 • What genre does your book fall under?

    Erotic romance (ménage)

 • What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

There are four characters who are key to the story, Viggo Mortenson would float my boat as Dane (can he pretend to be Aragorn please?), James Marsden would make a great Charlie. Jessica Alba would be good as Holly, and Audrey Tautou would bring out the naughty side of Sophie.
• What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

   Sophie is on a mission to help her friends and mend their broken hearts, but what none of them realise is she’s hiding the fact that she’s the one that needs mending most of all.
 • Is your book self-published or represented by an agency?

    After signing contracts with Xcite and Breathless Press for my other stories, I decided to take a risk – this story is a bit different to the others, and (at the present time!) I’m planning to self publish.

• How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

    This is one that has demanded to be written, I’ve spent about five weeks on it so far and expect to have it ready for edits any day now (watch this space!).
• What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

  Pass!

• Who or what inspired you to write this book?

    I love people watching and so often I’m sure that the people who seem to hold it all together best, who seem so in control, are often the ones who need help the most.People’s lives can be so tangled, relationships and people so multi faceted – and when you add in love and lust it becomes even more complicated…. Which all got me thinking, how many of us are completely honest, even with ourselves, about what we really want to do with our lives?
• What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Menage, sexy men, friends to lovers and secret babies … isn’t that enough?! Okay, well this is a love triangle where facing up to the truth could destroy more than just close friendships.

To see what some of my writer friends are doing, I’m going to tag…
Allie A BurrowAimee DuffyCharlotte McFall
Good luck! x

A little taster!

Life has been a bit hectic over the last couple of weeks, but I'm not complaining! One of the good things that has happened is the release of my erotic novel 'Riding High' - here's a taster, and there will be lots more snippets and insights when I do my blog tour, from November 26th -30th, I'll post the where and when here, hope you can join me then!

In the meantime.... I'm over Deadra Krieger's blog this Thursday 8th, I've been lucky enough to nab a 'Thankful Animals and Author's' slot to chat about a couple of the rescue animals that I've shared my life with. Her book 'Ruff Love: True Tails of Rescue' has just been released - have you checked it out yet? Click here if you haven't!

 Excerpt

‘Ahh, looks like I’ll have to watch my manners, then.’ He grinned, a big, dirty grin that said he wasn’t planning on watching his manners at all. ‘Unless I want some rough handling.’ He was close. Too close, far too close. Sending a strong whiff of maleness in her direction. It could have been aftershave; it could have been hormones, but who cared? It was making her feel seriously randy.
‘Yes.’ Which came out all squeaky. Calm. She just had to be calm and relaxed. ‘What do you fancy?’
He leant forward a bit, resting his tanned, muscled forearms on the bar, and caught her arm with his thumb, which didn’t help at all. ‘Well –’ his laugh rumbled round her ‘ –seeing as you’re asking …’
Christ, she must be able to stop blushing, and she really must be able to say something that didn’t sound like she was asking permission to jump him. Except she was asking, wasn’t she?
Talking to men had never been her strong point, and it would seem that even at 30 it still wasn’t. Maybe five long years of a soulless marriage and the type of sex that made your eyes water for all the wrong reasons had made her even worse at it.
She shifted her arm nervously away. This wasn’t how she normally behaved at all, but he was just so sexy, or she was sex-starved and desperate. Or both.
‘I think I better …’ She edged back, trying to ignore the way his gaze raked over her body, but her nipples were peaking in response, and her stomach was coiled with a fierce kind of hunger. She straightened a glass that didn’t need it; what was she even doing here? Just for once she’d thought a change of scene would do her good, help her forget the disaster she once called a life. And it might have done if Mr Sex-on-Legs hadn’t walked in.
‘I’ll go for the bitter if you promise to pull it nice and slow.’ He grinned. ‘No rough handling.’ He shifted back a bit on the bar stool, and she remembered she knew how to breathe.
‘Fine, I promise to pull it exactly how it’s supposed to be pulled.’ There must have been the teacher’s edge to her voice from the slightly amused look he shot her, but it was something she couldn’t help; that instinctive warning when somebody was telling her how to suck eggs. Even if he was making her all gooey inside, which proved she wasn’t a completely lost cause when it came to men, and almost made her smile.
He reached out just as she put the beer down, so that for a brief moment his hand covered hers, sending another shiver of something that really wasn’t good straight through her body. ‘I can’t persuade you to stop for a sec and have a drink with me?’ He glanced pointedly round the deserted pub. ‘Join me on the wrong side of the bar, seeing as you’re not exactly run off your feet?’
‘Well …’
‘Just for one before you shut up shop for the night? I promise I won’t bite.’
Biting might be good.


Hope you enjoyed it! Yippee, I've just spotted the first review - a 5* on amazon uk!!
Buy links: Amazon (UK) or Amazon (com)

Happy Halloween! With guest Anne Holly

Great to have you here Anne - over to you! I love Halloween. It’s about as uncomplicated a holiday as they come. Nothing but fun – no visiting relatives or annoying major-production meals to offset the pleasure of candy. October has lovely weather and costumes are always a good time. And scary is always enjoyable… Within reason.
In my Halloween story, Like Magic, I have a fellow who spends the freakiest Halloween night of his life when he falls under the spell of a lovelorn witch – or does he? He never does figure it out, and I like it that way. I have never been perfectly certain how I feel about the paranormal. My logical side says it’s unlikely, but I’ve been around the block enough times to know nothing is certain, and one should never say never.
I was 19 when I worked at a dining hall in the old east coast university where I took my bachelors degree. The dining hall was old, stone and impressive, covered in ivy and looking stately. It even had a tragic past – in the 1920s, a fire gutted it, killing four students and the housekeeper, who were all said to haunt their various lifetime quarters still. The housekeeper had lived in a bedsit in the basement, beside the maintenance area and right next to the boiler. When the boiler exploded that fateful night, she had not the slightest chance of escape. Yet, it being the 1920s, when they rebuilt and fixed a bronze plaque to the refurbished building commemorating the loss, her name was not included in the memorial.
As a result, many reported that the restless spirit of the woman was not a happy one, and she’d had been known to harass students and employees.
When my supervisor, Nicole, went down to the basement, she was always nervous. She said it felt cold, and she heard noises. Once, a lightbulb exploded when she was halfway down the dark, steep stairs. The forgotten lady, it seems, did not care for Nicole. Eventually, Nicole took to sending Dishwasher Kevin down there at the end of shift to lock up and shut down the lights. I guess no one really much minded if an angry ghost got Dishwasher Kevin.
Anyway, one night I was filling in as headwaiter to a conference banquet while Nicole was off. It never occurred to me to make Dishwasher Kevin go down to turn off the lights and lock up before he left, which I regretted later.
After I had signed everybody out, and was alone doing my lock up, all of the bravado I had once had as an empowered, educated young woman who didn’t believe in ghosts flew out the window as I contemplated going down those steps. A part of me wanted to pretend I had forgotten to lock up down there, but I knew it would be my skin if something happened because I had turned chicken, and I needed the job. Besides, headwaiting paid better than serving, and if I ever wanted the chance to fill in for Nicole again, I had better get my butt down there.
So, I went.
Down the steps, singing a little song to keep from shaking, and to the back door. I locked up, and turned off the lights as I went. Then to the employee locker room, without incident. By that point, I was starting to feel pretty silly about having been afraid, and was thinking Nicole was an idiot. I didn’t feel any chill, and nothing was happening. Pfft! I knew it all along! There’s no such thing as ghosts!
I was so confident, I decided to stop and pee before finishing my rounds and making the trek home. I got in the stall, did my business, and then… dropped the frigging toilet paper! I watched helplessly as it bounced and then rolled out under the door. One of those moments where you stop and sigh, sagging a second or two before you decide what to do about your situation.
Then… In bounced the toilet paper, back in under the door!
Now, this was not a slanted floor. In fact, the drain under the sinks should have made the paper roll completely away from my stall. And there was nothing for that thing to bump into that would make it bounce back to me. Except…
I recall how hard my heart was pounding. I wanted to scream or hide or cry, and the hairs on my arms stood on end. Either the room got cold as ice, or I imagined it did, I don’t know which.
To be on the safe side, I called out, “Thank you!” in the most cheerful voice I could. I received no reply, expected no reply, really wanted no reply. But, if some spirit out there had done me a good turn, it seemed only polite. And prudent, considering the exploded light bulb.
Nothing else happened as I rushed away from the bathroom and ran up those steps to the safety of the dining hall kitchen. Nothing ever happened to me again down in the basement of that dining hall in my subsequent shifts, but I never again felt sure there wasn’t something down there.
There is a type of certainty we enjoy when we are young, when we can “know” what is what. As you age, you lose that luxury as things happen to make you question everything. After that night, I never was certain about the paranormal again. Now, I know enough to know there’s a lot of stuff out there I don’t know, I guess you could say.
So, that’s my ghost story. It isn’t thrilling, or very flattering to me since I was sitting on the can at the time, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night.
Happy Halloween, everybody! And, remember – always be polite to the non-living. Except for zombies. Those suckers, you better just shoot in the head.
~*~
Anne Holly is a Canadian writer of romance and erotic-romance. Please visit her at her website, or find her on GoodReads, Facebookand Twitter. To check out her holiday books, visit http://annehollyholiday.webs.com/

Release blitz!! Raising the Bar by Lucy Felthouse

Raising the Bar by Lucy FelthouseWhen Kayleigh takes a gap year before starting University, she decides she’s going to stay away from guys and just concentrate on having fun and experiencing life. That means going through a lot of batteries, but she’s happy and satisfied.That is, until she gets to Spain on her travels and meets her new co-worker, Luciano. The scorching hot Spaniard soon has Kayleigh’s knickers in a twist— literally—and the time they spend together seriously raises the bar for her sex life. How will any other man ever compare?Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/raising-the-bar/*****
My first shift at the restaurant passes in a blur of flirtatious glances. My pussy swells and my clit throbs, desperate for attention. It’s all I can do to resist disappearing into the bathroom for a sneaky wank. Even better, I’d like to drag Luciano in there with me and ride him until his teeth rattle. Instead, I console myself with the fact that once I get back to my apartment, I can do whatever the hell I like. And I know for a fact it’s going to involve an orgasm.I take a taxi back to my apartment rather than walking the dark, unfamiliar streets alone. It also means I can get there quicker and relieve the tension that the sexy Spaniard has caused. I pay the driver as fast as possible then rush inside and slam the door behind me. I heave a sigh of relief as I lock myself in.Undressing, I drop my clothes by the washing machine and head to the bathroom, desperate to get clean. It’s not work that’s made me feel dirty, though. The flirting with Luciano have left me seriously wet. The panties I’ve just discarded in front of the washing machine are sodden.Stepping under the shower, I groan with pleasure as the hot water caresses my fevered skin. I stand there for a few seconds, letting the heat and the water relax me. My tension slips away and runs down the plughole. I grab the shampoo and give my hair a wash, digging my fingers into my scalp and massaging it. Now I’m calmer. But by the time I’ve rinsed the suds, he’s popped into my head again. Damn him.*****Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebookand Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Guest Post - Sommer Marsden talking about 'Boys Next Door' and why fear is good

Today I'm lucky enough to have Sommer Marsden stop by. I must admit, I've read lots of her stories and have loved them all. She's here today talking about 'Boys Next Door', read on for a hot excerpt and more details.



Boys Next DoorThree Men, One Woman, Maximum Passion
Never in her hottest dreams did Farrell McGee expect a move to Tower Terrace to be such an erotic roller coaster ride. "Good luck getting your key. I’m the middle house across the road should you need anything. At all," he said. The tone, the words, the accent on the anything. Oh god, he was one of those men. Men who had tons of self assurance and sexual prowess and total faith in their bedroom abilities. Those men were dangerous.Starting over at twenty eight, Farrell McGee discovers sleepy Tower Terrace teeming with handsome men. Well, maybe not teeming, but three heart-stopping men do live across the road from her.Despite feeling she's fallen backwards into a fairytale, complete with a big stone tower, a local legend and missing love letters, it becomes clear that all three of her neighbours have a sensual grip on her. She's powerless to choose just one, and just as powerless to get them out of her head or her bed. Deke, the devilish good boy who's superb at being bad. Coop, so often annoying in his gruffness, but oh so dominant where it counts. And Stephen the pretty, sweet, slightly submissive one. Her sex life has never been so good and her heart never so torn. She needs to choose one man, when she's not ready to give up any of them. But deep down she knows who she wants.


Fear is GoodI found myself, when writing Boys Next Door, creating another strong female lead. Or should I say—taking dictation from another strong female lead. I swear most days I do not feel as if I’m creating anyone, just eavesdropping on fully formed people who happen to reside in my head. Anyway, put the butterfly nets away, for I digress. Often people get ‘strong female lead’ confused with ‘woman who is not afraid, shows no emotion and doesn’t ever cry’. Crying seems to irritate some readers.I must confess, my very strong female leads are often afraid—terrified even—show tons of emotion and do actually cry. They also lay down the law, defend themselves, make strong decisions, do things that they never dreamed they would do and have the guts to go after what they want. Regardless of who might think what about their choices. To me that’s strength. And often that kind of strength is only spurred by fear. So, that gets us back to the title, fear is good.Farrell McGee, my very feisty main character, is starting over despite fear. She’s set a goal for herself and is following through regardless of what anyone says. Not the guy she’s leaving behind, not the new small town chatter, not the three men she finds herself involved with, and even at one point—she goes forward—despite her internal dialogue about an event she’s decided to go forward with despite very real fear that she will fail or make a fool of herself. But I won’t tell you what event that is, for it will spoil the book. I will cop to it being one of my favorite scenes (ever) to write.In this book, Ferrell has many weeks of living wild with abandon. Living with a glut of sex and attraction and hope. And it’s all—underneath the exterior—fueled by fear. Fear of an ordinary life. Fear of not trying. Sometimes fear is good, it’s what gets you where you need to go. It can get you where you want to be.XOXOSommer
Excerpt
‘What now?’ I sighed. I grabbed my mug and watched him appraise me with that sharp stare. Why did I still feel naked?
‘That is your sump pump, Farrell.’
‘Oh.’ To be honest, I had no idea I had a sump pump.
‘It’s on a battery backup in case of …’ Coop waved his hands around. ‘This.’
‘Ah,’ I said.
Brilliant. One word answers, dingbat.
I listened to the infernal beeping for another moment and tried not to squirm as he studied me, that mysterious twist of a smile on his sensual lips. Coop crossed his arms and there was a Celtic cross, a feather that might or might not be a raven or a crow, a swatch of blue and … he crossed them the other way and there was the hint of a scaled tail. A mermaid?
When I took a shuddery breath and simply could not stand the beep-beep-beeeeeeep anymore I blurted, ‘My God, how do I make it stop?’
He chuckled, gave me a decisive nod and took my hand. ‘Let’s start by going in your basement where the sump pump lives.’
‘Yes, let’s,’ I echoed, rattled by his strong hand on my wrist. When he held my arm, though, I saw more of that tail and yes, it had to be a mermaid. Or a very curvy fish.
‘It’s a mermaid,’ he said, following my gaze.
‘Oh, I didn’t – I wasn’t –’ I shook my head and we took my very steep, wooden, horror-movie-esque basement steps slowly.
‘Have you been down here yet?’
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘I have a basement phobia.’
‘Spiders?’
‘Nope. Just basements.’
Another smoky laugh and then he was tugging me into the corner by the washbasin and the laundry area.
He squatted down and I tried very hard not to study the firm line of his ass and thighs in his dark blue work pants. Or the way his work boots made my body flash all hot like and needy. Or how the small swatch of skin I could see and the slice of boxer short waistband was visible, or how any of that made my breasts feel tender and my mind sizzle like I’d been electrocuted.
I was learning about my sump pump. Sump. Pump. And that was all.
‘This red light,’ he said, pointing.
I nodded. Thankful, suddenly, for the flood of sunlight from the small window high over the washbasin. I realised without it we’d be down here in the darkness – okay, murky daytime ‘darkness’ but darkness nonetheless.
‘Yes?’
‘If it goes off on a glitch, you push it for one second. Once it stops beeping you move your finger.’
‘Got it. But this isn’t a glitch. This is an actual outage so …’
‘So you do this,’ he said. ‘You push the button down and count to five.’ He pushed his finger to the button near the red light and looked up at me. ‘One … Two …’ On two I blanked out because I was watching the plump invitation of his lips and yes, my eyes had darted back to that lovely strip of exposed skin and his ass. Oh, man, the man had an ass.
‘Are you counting?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘What number are we on?’
I blinked, took a step back, right into a clothesline strung from the rafters and I promptly freaked the hell out and started waving my arms, dancing in place, screeching – convinced I’d backed up into the world’s largest spider web.
Then I tangled myself in the slack line and screamed in earnest. It wasn’t until Coop, who I could tell was mightily trying not to laugh, grabbed my arms and whispered, ‘Settle down,’ that I stilled.
I’d looped one arm up and one under and had effectively twisted myself up. He reached overhead. ‘Let me just find where it’s hooked and I can …’ he stopped talking, feeling around in the rafters.
‘Spiders,’ I wheezed, reminding him that they were waiting to eat his hand.
‘I think I’ll be fine.’ He looked me in the eye and smiled and that was that. My cunt flexed wetly, my stomach bottomed out and I licked my lips without thinking.
I moved my arm and managed to get my wrist unwound. ‘I think I’ve got it –’
‘Here.’ He gave up trying to find where it was tied and untwisted my other arm as I worked on the right one. I had caught a flash of tattoo at waist level when he’d raised his arms.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘What is what?’
I gave up. I’d gone from scared of him, to panicked lunatic twisted up in ropes, to tentatively bold. ‘This?’
I lifted the tail of his shirt and touched the small swatch of colour visible above his waistband. But the blue work pants shielded the rest of the picture from me. When my finger brushed his skin, electricity – real or imagined – hummed along my own skin.
‘Be careful doing that, Farrell,’ he said, catching my hand in his. ‘I’m just a man. And you’re just a new, very beautiful, very intriguing neighbour.’
Buy links
HarperCollins: http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/boys-next-door/Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Boys-Next-Mischief-Books-ebook/dp/B008LQ9MJ0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1348935240Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Boys-Next-Mischief-Books-ebook/dp/B008LQ9MJ0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1349105040&sr=1-1All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-boysnextdoormischiefbooks-957573-144.htmlBarnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/boys-next-door-sommer-marsden/1112032934?ean=9780007479313
Bio
Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen),and "Erotica royalty..." (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit, Big Bad, Wanderlust and Learning to Drown. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for HarperCollins (Mischief Books), Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora's Cave, Pretty Things Press, and Resplendence Publishing. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer's short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines--both in print and online. Visit sommermarsden.blogspot.com to see what’s up and drop her a line.