Tuesday, 26 March 2019

Pre-Order Your Copy of DARK WARRIOR Now #mm #erotic #romance


While some passions live on the surface, others—wilder, darker passions—have to be kept buried deep. 



Dr. Leo Rotherham is following his calling by working in rural Kenya for the charity Medics On Hand. While he expected a primitive way of life and limited medical supplies, what he doesn’t bargain on is falling for handsome village warrior, Malik. 

Malik is well respected, knowledgeable and loyal to his tribe. He’s also beautiful, brave, modern and, much to Leo’s dismay, married—isn’t he? 

No, it turns out Malik is as free as the animals that roam the African plains at night. Soon the tension is building between the two men and Leo isn’t sure if he’s coming or going. Whenever he’s around Malik he can’t help but notice the reflected look of lust in his eyes and feel the longing sizzling between them. 
Malik stands too close, not close enough.

Forbidden attraction simmers between them and the need grows to dizzying heights. But dare they admit to each other what it is they want? And are they brave enough to act on their desires and be honest about their lust? One thing is for sure, a passion this big, this powerful, can’t be contained and it’s all going to explode in the most spectacular of ways. 

Please note this male/male erotic romance book was previously published with different cover art.



Monday, 25 March 2019

Ties that Bind - Club Risqué Book 3 by Poppy Flynn



Release Date: 15th March


Meet the members of Club Risqué and follow their D/s exploits as love worms its way into even the kinkiest hearts. 


Club Risqué book 1 – Fool’s Desire - currently on sale at 0.99


Blurb

Luanna Morgan has worked hard to brush off the stigma and scandal of being a single teenage mother. These days, she is better known for her calm composure and serene disposition, but despite that, things start to sizzle between Luanna and her company's legal director, Logan Thornton. 

Logan might seem like a mild-mannered corporate lawyer, but in BDSM circles, he is better known as Master Baku, the Shibari expert. His dream is to publish a series of artistic poses which incorporate his three loves—Shibari, suspension, and photography, and he has his sights set on Luanna as the model.

But Luanna has led a deliberately quiet and modest life. She knows nothing about bondage or the intricacies of D/s relationships. She's always had to rely on herself, and her current reputation has been hard won. Even if she decides to throw caution to the wind and finally live a little, is there really any room left in Logan's life for yet another love, especially if she can't find it in herself to share the ones he already has?

Logan has Luanna tied up in knots, both literally and figuratively. Is it possible to find a compromise or will circumstances conspire to pull them apart?

Publisher's Note: This steamy romance contains graphic scenes and themes of power exchange. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it. 



Excerpt

He had just poured two cups and was digging through the fridge for some milk, when he heard a key scrape in the lock of the front door. 
A moment later, he found himself face to face with a tall, well developed kid with the same calm, laid back manner as Luanna. The similarity pretty much ended there. The lad was blond and blue eyed, although they did share the same narrow, patrician nose. If he'd been asked, Logan would have put the kid at older than fifteen, due to both his build and his innate maturity, but given the circumstances, he was pretty sure that this couldn't be anyone other than Luanna's son. 
For a moment, he found himself nonplussed. What the hell did you say to a kid you'd never met before who had just walked into his own home and found you mostly naked in the middle of the day, when it was fairly obvious that you'd just fucked his mother seven ways to Sunday? 
The lad's jaw dropped when he caught sight of Logan, and for long seconds, the pair of them just looked at each other. 
Of course, Logan hadn't become a deadpan, poker-faced lawyer for one of the country's biggest conglomerates without learning a thing or two. He was a master of masking surprise and turning it around with a comeback. Not that he needed the comeback, but he did need to make the best of a tough situation. 
Pasting on a smile, Logan thrust out his hand and pretended that he was fully dressed. 
"You must be Danny," he said easily, as if he hadn't been caught with his pants down. Literally. "Your mother's spoken of you. I'm Logan." 
The boy raised an eyebrow but took Logan's outstretched hand and pumped it with a surprisingly strong grip. "Well, you've got one up on me there," he replied, looking Logan directly in the eye. "Because she sure hasn't ever mentioned you!" 
Logan masked the cringe that was fighting to contort his face. The kid certainly didn't pull any punches. Definitely his mother's child. 
He felt a swift displacement of air, which told him the bedroom door had just opened. In a vague corner at the back of his mind, Logan wondered if Luanna knew what she was walking into or if she'd been caught by surprise. For her own sake, he hoped she wasn't naked. He really didn't want her to be humiliated in front of her son, and he knew she wasn't expecting him home until this evening. 
Danny's gaze landed over Logan's shoulder, and he took in his mother's sex tousled hair and the messy bed behind her. His eyes flew back to Logan, and this time, there was an unexpected look of admiration and a glint of surprised amusement in his ocean coloured eyes. 
"Wow, you did my mother?" It was really more of a statement than a question, and from behind him, Logan heard the unintelligible, strangled sound that was ripped from Luanna's throat. 
 "I'd almost given up on the hope that she'd ever give a man the time of day!" He winked. Yep, he'd actually winked!
"And you destroyed the bed. Respect, dude!" Suddenly, Danny sounded all of his fifteen years, although his reaction was nothing that Logan might have anticipated.
Danny's face split into a mischievous grin, but then he turned his attention back to his mother. A serious expression settled over his still youth-rounded features, and suddenly, the strange 'man-boy' was back in evidence.
"I hope you used protection," he told Luanna earnestly, sounding for all the world like he was her father...well, a lenient, understanding kind of father, at least.
The lad shook his head, not taking his eyes off of her, and Logan half turned, manoeuvring himself so that he could watch the interaction between the two of them.
"I'm pretty sure you don't keep any of your own..." He frowned. "...but you know 
there's a packet of condoms in my dresser drawer if you ever need them."
Logan could see the hint of a blush, covering Luanna's, thankfully, fully clothed skin, but she didn't dodge her son's direct look and she didn't bawl him out in self-defence. One more thing to respect her for.
"Yes, I found them, thank you," she replied gracefully, as if this wasn't one of the most awkwardly embarrassing situations she'd ever found herself in.
Danny gave a single nod and headed down the short hall to his own room, taking everything in his stride like there was nothing unusual going on. Yes, Danny and Luanna were most certainly cut from the same cloth. 




Poppy Flynn was born in Buckinghamshire, UK and moved to Wales at eight years old with parents who wanted to live the 'self-sufficiency' lifestyle.

Today she still lives in rural Wales and is married with six children.
Poppy's love of reading and writing stemmed from her parents' encouragement and the fact that they didn't have a television in the house. 

"When you're surrounded by fields, cows and sheep, no neighbours, no TV and the closest tiny village is four miles away, there's a certain limit to your options, but with books your adventures and your horizons are endless." 
  

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Sunday, 24 March 2019

"My husband has new dark and forbidden fantasies. He can explore them...if I get to watch." #erotic #threesome #romance on #KU



"My husband has new dark and forbidden fantasies. I'll let him explore them on one condition...I get to watch."

Professional life in the City of London is tough going which is why my husband Gabe and I live by the motto work hard and play hard. So when something, or rather someone, comes along that changes how he wants to play I'm intrigued by our sexy new game.

But there's always private sides to the ones you love, and in this case new thoughts and desires are stealing Gabe's dreams. It's not until I meet Brent-gorgeous and sophisticated yet soul-achingly alone--that I begin to understand the complex layers of Gabe's needs and exactly what I have to do.

But I'm not afraid; in fact the idea of two men turns me the hell on. In a whirlwind of romance, fear, desire and a new cresting wave of passion we open up to each other, testing the water for one weekend only. Or is it? Will we ever be the same again? Can Gabe and I survive our decision to let a third into our bed? Can Brent just walk away and, more importantly, will we let him?

Please Note - The Silk Tie is an erotic romance featuring MM and MF as well as menage a trois sex scenes. It that floats your boat, then dive straight in and when you've finished, check out Lily's other bestselling MMF novels THE GLASS KNOT, MUSCLING IN and A FIGHTER'S LOVE.


Saturday, 23 March 2019

Saturday Spankings - DARK WARRIOR #MM #GBLT #erotic #romance #sa


Welcome to Saturday Spankings. This week a few from my MM erotic romance DARK WARRIOR. As they get to know each other these sexy guys realise they're both into a little spanking play. What could be more fun?






“Do you remember that first time?” Malik asked. “In your room in the village?”
“Yes. I will never forget it.”
Leo closed his eyes as Malik undid the button and zipper on his jeans. The pressure relieved a little on his cock but then surged as Malik slipped them and his boxers to his knees and his erection burst forward. 
Malik gripped Leo’s shaft and swept his tongue over the tip. 
Leo sucked a breath through gritted teeth. Stamina was always in short supply when Malik had hold of him. 
“Step out of these,” Malik ordered, releasing him and slipping off the last of Leo’s clothing. 
Leo lifted his feet one at a time and Malik dragged the material free. 
“That’s it, just right,” Malik said, touching Leo’s hips and forcing him to turn, to face the ottoman. He stayed on his knees, though, head level with Leo’s buttocks. “That first time,” he said, his breath warm on Leo’s flesh, “it was only a few slaps but my handprints even in the shadows I could see them perfectly.” 
“You never told me that.” 
“I’m telling you now.” He leaned forward and kissed Leo’s arse cheek, the one he’d spanked that first time. 
Leo clenched his fists. Malik’s mouth on him always sent a rush of desire racing through his nerves. He hardly knew how he would be able to control himself. 
“I loved it, seeing my handprint all red and hot. It made you mine.”
“I am yours.”
“I know and I am thankful for that every day.” Malik stood and kissed from Leo’s shoulder to the dip of his neck. “Bend over, Leo. Give me your arse, all of it—the skin, your hole, your sweet little hot-spot.” 


RELEASES 1ST APRIL. WILL BE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED



Friday, 22 March 2019

Viking Harem - NEW. Sneak Peek at Chapter One #viking #historical #erotic #romance

COMING SOON, my hot new Viking Harem novel, working title THE PRINCESS AND HER VIKING HAREM. To whet your appetite and set the scene, here's a sneak peek at Chapter One...



Pointy beaks, mummified claws, and tiny, porous bones scattered over the gnarled wooden table, rattling against each other before settling into the pattern chosen by the gods.
The squat candles to Ingrid’s right shivered as a gust of mid-winter wind blew beneath the door, bringing with it two leaves and a long black raven’s feather. Rain pelted down on the turf roof, sounding as though Thor himself was paying the valley of Ravndal a visit.
A visit in the dead of the night—a visit during the month when the sun chose not to rise from its slumber on the horizon.
Everything and everyone had hunkered down, hibernated, and was waiting for spring to thaw the land and once again provide.
Except for Ingrid. She’d taken to the highest hill to seek providence.
She tugged her hood tighter, the rabbit fur velvety on her cheeks. Being here was dangerous. A girl of her position shouldn’t be consulting the seer of Ravndal. Her destiny was planned. There was no need to question it—or at least that was what the king, her father, would say.
Not that she was afraid the seer would spread ghostly whispers about her visit. Being hundreds of years old, blind, and dwelling somewhere between men and the gods—life and death—the seer had more pressing matters to attend to.
Which is why Ingrid was grateful for this precious moment—the moment where he looked into her destiny and saw the truth. For much as she loved her father, and trusted him, she knew it was truly the gods who determined everyone’s fate.
“Ah, how I suffer...” The seer grimaced and used his palms to tap and assess where the bones and beaks now lay. “To see such things.”
“What do you see?” She fought a rise of trepidation.
He was silent, his bottom lip trembling, as though murmurs of the future were hovering there but wouldn’t spill out.
Ingrid resisted the temptation to demand more information for she knew she must not. The seer wasn’t known for his patience, and she did not wish for him to tell the gods—whose ear he had—that she was an impertinent, ill-tempered princess.
“A bear wishes to marry the wolf, a wolf that is wild and free.” His voice was hoarse, as though his throat had worn out from centuries of casting prophecies.
Ingrid bit on her bottom lip. To her right a string holding bird bones separated by twigs and clutches of heather hung from the roof. She stared at it to again prevent herself from pushing the seer.
“No man or animal can tame a wolf unless the wolf wishes to be tamed.” His voice grew more strangled with each word.
Although his eyes were milky, with no center, the seer stared at Ingrid. “I see a bubbling, broiling ocean.” He held up his hands. “Aegir, the god of the ocean is unhappy. Aegir wishes to rise up, then swallow, sink back down, sink back down into the ocean... be warned.” He sucked in a scratching breath. “Be warned, little one.”
“Be warned of the bear or the ocean?”
“Both!” He slammed his hands onto the table; the beaks and bones jumped, and wax over-spilled and leaked from a candle, the ensuing drip running tear-like down its length. “I cannot do this.” He stood, unfolding a spine that seemed to be held together with dust. His long black robe dragged on the floor as he stepped to the right, using a tall wooden chair for support. “I cannot do this.” Breathy, agonized words.
“Please, I beg you.” Ingrid also stood.
“Why, why do you beg?” He paused and tilted his chin. “You are a princess and a shield maiden, are you not?”
“Ja, that is true, but...” She hesitated. “A privileged birth means my path is not an easy one.”
“Many would say the opposite.” He was hunching forward again, reducing in height and retreating into his hood and the folds of his cloak so she could barely see his face. The small white skull pendant—a mouse most likely—hanging from his neck swayed with the ticking of her heart. “Many would say you have everything a woman could desire. A father who loves you. Comforts and treasures many have not. The gods have blessed you.”
“And I am grateful, really I am.” Ingrid twisted her hands together. If Thor or Odin were listening, she needed them to believe her. Her heart was thankful for all that she had, truly it was.
The seer turned and dipped his hand into a wooden box.
A squall rattled the door, shaking the iron latch.
Ingrid ignored the wind as the seer withdrew something from the box. He held it in his fist and turned to her, gnarled fingers clenched.
“This,” he said, “will help you find your way, child.”
“What is it?”
He didn’t reply, instead he turned his palm over and revealed a small dark rune stone. Red flecks shone from its green surface and it was the shape of a plump berry.
“Bloodstone,” he said as she took it. “It will help a lost soul see change on the horizon.” “Change on my horizon? Am I the lost soul?”
“I give you this rune as a protective talisman. It will give you the strength and courage you need to brave the storm.”
Ingrid trapped it in her hand and glanced at the wooden door, which was still rattling as the wind beat it. Was this the storm the seer was talking about? The one that shook her village right now. Or were there more on her horizon?
“I am tired,” he said, staggering a little to the right before clutching a table littered with dried herbs. “You must see the change and summon courage. But beware the bear and the wolf.”
“But I thought I had to beware of the bear and the ocean.”
“All of them, the bear will drive the wolf to the ocean.” He slumped into a chair beside a waning fire. The skull hanging from his neck settled on his chest. “Now go, the gods have exhausted me with their instructions and delivering them to you has drained the energy from my bones, sinew, and tendons.” He held out his upturned hand.
Ingrid poked out her tongue and dragged it over the cool, dry flesh of his palm. She had so many more questions for the seer but it was clear her time with him was over. Now she had to get back to her home, to her father, for there was a royal banquet being held in honor of a faraway visitor. If she were late for that, there’d be displeasure in the king’s eyes, and since losing her beloved mother, she hated to give him further reason for pain.
She had one last glance around the seer’s abode then slipped the bloodstone into a pouch attached to her belt. Once it was safely nestled beside her strike-a-light, she slipped through the door.
Instantly the wind whipped around her and she battled to refit the iron latch; it seemed the angry air wanted to take the door from her and hurl it toward the gods. When she’d finally managed the task, she clasped her cloak beneath her chin and ran down the dark hillside, using her free hand to steady herself on passing tree trunks that were dotted with lichen. It was wet and slippery underfoot but Ingrid wore leather trousers beneath her cloak and her boots were new and made by the finest tanner in the village so she traveled with swift ease.
The rain pelted her face and stung her cheeks. Twice the wind gripped her hood and yanked it from her head, sending her dark hair flying out behind her. The winter seemed to penetrate her soul, invading her lungs with its rusty brew of storm rain, mud, and fungi. But soon she was back in Ravndal making her way past longhouses, stables, and pens of chickens and goats.
Peeking inside the great hall it was apparent the banquet was about to start. Two of her father’s servants were stoking a crackling fire, above which three vats of bubbling fowl stew were suspended. Another servant was setting out tankards of mead on long tables that were littered with apples and nuts. Three more fires in cast-iron bowls hung from the ceiling on chains and kept the night chill at bay.
Several villagers were already there, picking at a plate of smoked fish and talking loudly, clearly excited about the evening and merriment ahead.
Unseen, Ingrid rushed home, keen to remove any evidence of her trip up the muddy hillside to visit the seer.
Quickly slipping into her chamber area at the west of the longhouse, she dragged the weaved curtain across to afford some privacy. Then, using an old rag, she wiped the worst of the mud from her boots. She removed her cloak, hung it up to dry, and slipped from her trousers.
“Ingrid. There you are.”
She turned. Her handmaiden, Helga, stood there, face pale, long neck peeking from a woolen tunic.
“My dress.” Ingrid pointed.
Her father had asked that she wear a dress, plait her hair, and displayed her mother’s jewels. She’d barely given herself time to preen yet alone be presentable for a village feast hosting guests. One particular guest her father seemed unusually keen to impress. Ingrid had no idea why even though he’d talked of Bjorn Har many times over the last few days.
She pulled on a white under-top, then her maiden assisted her with a red yarn dress with golden embroidery running from her shoulders to her waist. The neckline was low, the pale skin of her slight cleavage visible.
“I will get the scent, Princess.”
“Ja.”
The handmaiden disappeared.
Pausing in her frantic movements, Ingrid slowly ran her fingertip over the soft orbs of her small breasts. She had yet to be with a man, but she’d seen and heard others in the village mating. Men planting their seed in the hope of sons. Privacy for intimate moments wasn’t something her people craved, especially when the mead was flowing and revelry was in full swing. She, however, wanted her first time with a man—her husband—to be special.
In fact her father had ordered that be the case.
What will it be like to be touched here... and down there?
Not for the first time her mind wandered into the future. She hoped her husband, her soulmate, her betrothed, would be handsome, and a fine warrior, a great provider, and brave and loyal. She’d yet to marry him, but already loved him. For she knew she’d only settle for a Viking of the highest quality, and she knew her father would only hand her over to such a person.
She sat and picked up a decorative comb made from an antler—a gift from one of the young men in the village, Raud Lothi—and set to her task of preparing for the feast again.
She smiled as she thought of Raud. He was one full moon older than her, and they’d grown up together, riding, hunting, chasing, and learning the ways of the forest and fjords. When Ingrid’s mother had passed with the fever four summers ago, Raud’s mother had comforted Ingrid, knowing when to speak, and when to stay silent as sorrow shrouded Ingrid’s life for the longest of winters. Raud had been the one to remind her how to smile. His playful nature, his quick genuine laughter, and his refusal to put her on a pedestal despite her father being king were a salve for her grief. She’d always be grateful to him for that.
Soon her hair was twisted into tight plaits and piled at her crown with several sprigs of dark rose heather sticking from it. She added dark brown streaks made from crushed walnuts and soot above and beneath her eyes, and dabbed dried berry paste onto her lips to give them a bruised shine.
“Ahh, there you are, daughter.”
“Father.” She turned, a smile forming on her face.
The king pushed the curtain aside and stepped into her space. He filled it with his wide shoulders adorned with a shimmering onyx wolf pelt. Two large iron buttons connected by a chain were pinned either side of his chest.
“Are you joining us?” he asked, ramming his hands onto his hips and his thickly coiled red beard shifting as he spoke.
“Of course.” She stood. “I just need to put on Mother’s amulet.”
“Here. Let me.” He reached onto the table and picked up the bronze chain; from it hung the runic compass symbol, vegvisir.
He held it up and looked between it and her. “This is a beautiful piece but nothing could ever outshine you, my dear daughter.”
“Thank you.” A little rush of heat bloomed on her cheeks. “Perhaps I don’t say it often enough, but I do love you.”
“As I love you.”
“And sometimes...” He paused. “I grieve for you.”
“But I am still here.” She was confused.
“Yes.” He sighed and stepped behind her, positioned the amulet at her throat. “But you are a grown woman now. I miss the little girl who used to sit on my lap listening to stories of the gods even when you could hardly keep your eyes open. I miss our trips to the forest, where every new thing put a shine of wonder in your eyes.”
“I still love to listen to your stories.” She rested her hand on his. “And perhaps when spring comes we could journey into the forest together again, on a hunting trip. It has been a long time since we did.”
He sighed and worked on the clasp of the necklace. “It is true what you say, you do have a journey ahead, my child, and there will be much change with it.”
‘Bloodstone. It will help a lost soul see change on the horizon.’
Ingrid said naught though her mind galloped as the seer’s words came back to her. Did her father know she’d visited the seer? Had the words of the gods traveled so quickly? Did he also know she had a bloodstone in her pouch?
“Now more than ever you need your mother with you,” he said, “to guide you into womanhood. She is not here, but this, her favorite piece is. I am glad you will be wearing it tonight.”
“Ja, Father.”
“It will not be easy but it will be for the best.” He paused. “It is time for you to put your family first.”
“Of course I will, Father.” She rested her hand on his. “You are my family. I will always put you first.”
“And I you, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Please remember that.”
“Of course.” She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re all I have and my most treasured possession,” he added.
With the clasp fastened, Ingrid turned. This type of sentiment from her father—the firm but fair, and also feared King Baardsen of Ravndal—was most unusual. “Is there a problem?” She waited, hoping he’d take her into his confidence.
“No.” He shook his head though there was sadness in his blue eyes. “This day was always going to come.”
Ingrid frowned. “I thought you’d be happy. You have a guest from faraway lands visiting. A guest you revere.”
“That makes me both sad and happy.”
She tipped her head. His riddles weren’t making sense. A spindle of unease weaved its way through her thoughts, tugging into a knot that tightened into a fist.
“Come.” He pressed his hand onto the small of her back. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting to see your astounding beauty.”


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Thursday, 21 March 2019

Get a #free copy of TAKE ME #vampire #shifter #paranormal #romance #amreading


Want a FREE copy of TAKE ME, my hot vampire/shifter story set in Dublin? Don't miss this great paranormal giveaway and the chance to fill up your ereader!




Wednesday, 20 March 2019

I Love Series #giveaway #romance #free #ebook #amreading


Love a series? Don't miss this great giveaway and discover great first in series FREE reads to get you hooked.

Includes Book One of my CAUGHT ON CAMERA series.