Saturday, 9 December 2017

Who's up for some Seasonal Shenanigans... of the dirty variety?

Enter Here to win a Kindle Fire


Let It Snow - Nikola Christain
Jovie has always avoided the Christmas season. But when she has to spend the holidays in a ski lodge, she meets someone who may inspire her to embrace the season. Or at least the part about meeting under the mistletoe.

Eight Secret Nights - Shoshana David
Someone’s been leaving Hanukkah presents on Mara’s doorstep.  Sweet presents.  Thoughtful presents.  She wonders who her secret admirer is.  Hopefully, it’s the cute guy who moved in next door and not the creep from 7A.

A Tradition Worth Continuing - Tricia Ramey
It’s Christmas Eve, and Beth Murphy is finally able to relax.  Now’s the time to enjoy a little downtime with her husband James before the chaos of their descending families the next day. But it’s the gift she has for her husband that will make this Christmas the most memorable one yet.

Kittens For Christmas - Caitlyn Lynch
Regina Brooks thinks finding a box of abandoned kittens on Christmas Eve is a disaster in the making. Fortunately, her hunky neighbor Ric is eager to help her out — in any way he can!

Missing You For Christmas - Moxie Rivers
When Allison’s husband, Jake, can’t get leave, it’ll be her first Christmas without him since they were married. But Allison isn’t the type of person to let that stop her, but with the help of her coworkers, and just maybe a little Christmas magic, it will still be a Merry Christmas. 

A Grease Monkey Christmas - Cailin Briste
Fate arranges the chance meeting of two strangers in need of a little kindness on Christmas Eve. Celebrity Davon Weider, with his navy-blue eyes and muscular physique, can fill the starring role in any woman’s fantasy. But Jasline, a spaceport mech, is more impressed by his five jump speed records.

Santa Claus is Coming - Jennie Kew
I don't dress up as Santa for just anyone, you know? Holly Granville isn't just anyone. When a massive storm hits our Christmas photo shoot and we're trapped inside a tiny hut — cold, wet, angry, and naked — our friendship irrevocably changes. But will it be for better, or worse?

The Promise Of Love - Maya Bailey
The year is 1819. He sees a man across a room and it is like seeing himself dressed in a British soldier’s uniform. How could it be that another man bears his face? He had loved her once; she had betrayed that love. Now he must find answers. If only he could do that without laying eyes on her again.

Underneath The Mistletoe - Ava Bari
Police officer Nic Zanetti just wanted to spent a quiet holiday alone with his TV. Then he’s called to find a runaway little girl. When he meets her widowed mother, this Christmas will be one they never forget.

Blizzard - Suzi Frewin
Simon and Fallon find themselves marooned together, fearing for their lives against the Zengwee, an alien species which has dominated Earth for its resources. Neither want the complication of falling in love, but fate and Christmas have other plans.

All I Want for Christmas … is You - Annika Steele
On Christmas Eve, Dr. Victoria Long is determined to take her relationship with Detective Devon King to the next level, maybe even the forever kind. But will their relationship survive when Devon discovers she’s a suspect in a series of thefts?

Christmas is Coming - Liv Honeywell
It’s almost Christmas, and Abby decides to decorate the tree, despite Will, her Dom, telling her to wait. But when she drops his toolbox and all the parts scatter like confetti, she’s left wondering if she’ll be able to sit down by *next* Christmas. What will happen when Will gets home?

New Beginnings - Dana Kenzi
When Erika’s Winter Solstice ritual doesn’t go as planned, it joins her list of worries, right next to her struggles to run her newly acquired business. Then her handsome neighbor, David, drops by to offer her some company. What starts off as a venting session between two frustrated adults leads to a cathartic and pleasurable encounter.

I Fell Through Starlight For You - Keira Fox
It’s the earliest hours of Christmas and Lucille is thinking of closing up her bistro when an enchanting figure comes through her door seeking aid for his injuries.

Enter Here to win a Kindle Fire


From Kittens For Christmas by Caitlyn Lynch

Ric looked at Reggie sitting there on the floor next to him, a pair of fools caring for some orphaned kittens early in the morning on Christmas Day, and he wondered if she’d slap his face if he kissed her. She’d fallen asleep on his shoulder mid-sentence earlier, and snuggled up to him with the cutest little sound of protest when he tried to carefully shift her off. In the end he’d just leaned his head back on the couch and dropped off to sleep himself.
Reggie’s brown eyes sparkled as she laughed, and impulsively Ric reached out a hand and touched one of hers, resting lax on her knee.
“Hey. I’m glad I met you coming in tonight. Last night, I mean, it’s morning now...”
Ugh, that was so not smooth. Why does my brain always fail me when I’m talking to an attractive woman?
Reggie was smiling at him, though. “I’m glad, too,” she said softly, and her slight, fine-boned hand turned under his so their fingers interlaced.
Ric’s brain stalled out and failed him completely. He just stared at her hand under his, at least until Reggie let out a soft, husky little laugh. His eyes snapped up to her face - which was suddenly a lot closer.
This is actually happening. He was suddenly as nervous as a teenage boy with his first crush, palms sweating, hands shaking.
Reggie’s lips were soft against his, a light, tentative touch before she pulled back, looking at him with wide eyes.
She can’t be nervous. She’s gorgeous, she could have any guy she wanted. That look of nervous worry, of concern that he might not be into her, absolutely killed him. No way could he let her have that impression, even for one second. So he leaned closer and brought up his free hand to cup her cheek, fingers sliding into her thick ringlets, feeling their springy texture.
“God damn, but you’re beautiful,” he murmured before bringing their mouths back together. He felt her lips curve up in a pleased smile, right before they parted, welcoming in his tongue as he probed lightly.
Ric felt Reggie’s soft sigh all through his body; the little moan she let out as he explored her mouth had his cock hardening in his pants. Her fingers tightened around his before she moved, going to her knees beside him and putting her free arm around him, pulling their bodies flush against each other.
It was Ric’s turn to make a noise, a low hungry groan in his throat as Reggie’s breasts pressed against his chest. Leaning back against the couch, he pulled her with him and she straddled his thighs, settling her groin against his.
“Reggie,” his voice came out a husky rasp as she pulled away from the kiss and ducked down to nip and lick at his neck, finding that sensitive spot in the hollow of his collarbone which made him shudder, hips jerking up involuntarily. “What are we doing?”
“Well,” she paused to swirl her tongue in the hollow of his throat, “right now we’re making out, and since our charges are full of milk and sound asleep, I think we should take advantage of the temporary quiet to go ahead and fuck.”
His eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, flew wide open. “Well,” he said after recovering his composure, “that’s direct.”
Reggie chuckled and leaned back to look him in the eye. “I’m not one to talk around a situation. You’re hot, I’m horny, it’s Christmas, let’s have fun.”
“I think you’ve got it the wrong way round.”
Her brows furrowed adorably, a small line appearing between them.
“You’re hot and I’m horny. But the floor’s too hard and the couch is too small, so how about we take this to the bedroom?”
From Santa Claus Is Coming by Jennie Kew:
“Please tell me that was the last one.”
Holly grins. “That was the last one.”
“Oh, thank God.” I push myself up and out of the driftwood throne I've occupied for the better part of the day and stretch the kinks out of my back and shoulders.
Everything hurts.
My back is stiff from sitting for too long, and my thighs hurt from having an endless line-up of kids — and the occasional adult — sit on them all day. My cheeks ache from smiling waaay too much, my ass is so numb I'm not entirely sure it's still attached to my body, and don't even get me started on my balls….
Fuck me.
What a day.
When my best friend's sister invited me to spend the day with her at Melbourne’s iconic Brighton Beach — you know the one, with the long line of brightly painted bathing huts that wedding photographers clamour over — I jumped at the opportunity. Spend the day with the woman I've lusted after for years while she parades around in one of those skimpy bikinis she's so fond of?
Fuck yeah!
And sure, maybe I could catch a few waves while we're there, show off my very grown-up, non-brotherly physique to the woman who once told me a. she'd never date one of her brother's mates, and b. she'd never, ever be interested in someone so much younger than her.
Like a ten year age difference made her old or something.
Anyway, I rock up, surfboard in hand, and what does she do? Hands me a beach bum Santa costume consisting of little more than a pair of boardshorts and a Santa hat, shoves me in front of a camera and starts charging people money to let their precious little darlings crawl all over me and tell me their Christmas wishes. Which, okay — crushed ball-sack aside — was actually pretty cool, especially the kid who wanted total world domination so he could end bullying everywhere. I didn't have the heart to point out the flaw in his plan, and judging by the look on his dad's face, neither did he.
“You did a good job today, Chris,” Holly says as she packs away her camera equipment, then laughs. “I can't wait to show Mikey that shot of the granny in your lap.”
I slip my Santa hat off my head and shove it in my pocket. “I'll have you know her name was Phillipa, she's only seventy-five years old, and she said I reminded her of her late husband.”
“She licked your face.”
“She wanted to know if I tasted like him, too,” I say with a grin. “I'd reckon the saucy old dame did it to win a bet, actually. I saw her and her friend exchange a tenner after she collected her photo. And you know Mike hates it when you call him Mikey, right?”
“Of course. Why do you think I do it?” she says with a wink that makes my breath stall in my chest and my legs go weak at the knees. “Seriously, though. Thanks for today. I know I blindsided you with it.”
“You know, you could have just told me what you wanted me for,” I say as I step down from the dais and discreetly adjust my aching package. “It is for charity. And you know us firemen. We love any excuse to take our shirts off.”
She looks up at me from under long, blonde lashes. “After the calendar shoot fiasco I wasn't sure how willing you'd be to help me.”
Ah, yes. The calendar fiasco. I snort a laugh and shake my head. “I run into burning buildings for a living, Hols. On purpose. Did you really think a little dog shit would keep me away?”
Holly laughs, the full-bodied sound bursting from within her and shaking her deliciously plump figure with the force of it.
Good God, I want to eat her all up.
Starting right between her—
“It was more than a little dog shit. That poor pup had the worst diarrhoea I've ever seen. You were covered in it. I have photos. I was thinking of blowing one up and giving it to your mum for Christmas.”
Cocking an eyebrow at her obvious glee, I fold my arms over my chest and grin. “You just love humiliating me, don't you?”
“Call it a hobby,” she says with a shrug, her pretty mouth curved in a smile of honest good humour. A smile that has my cock twitching with interest as I imagine how those sweet lips would feel wrapped around its rock hard length.
The last thing I need right now is a hard-on. I'm almost thankful for the sudden wind that whips past us, stinging my legs with flying sand.

From Underneath The Mistletoe by Ava Bari

The officer who’d found her daughter was still there, and Amelia had yet to even acknowledge him. She rubbed her eyes and kept Grace at her hip as she looked up at the taller man… and instantly regretted choosing her most unflattering nightgown to wear to bed.
“Mrs. Eliot, I’m Officer Zanetti,” he said, offering a hand. She tried to ignore how strong his grip was. His hand was huge and completely engulfed hers.
“Thank you so much for finding my daughter, Officer,” Amelia said. “I really can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s all in a day’s work, Ma’am,” he said, his smile bringing her back to her teenage years when she’d fawned over boy band members and actors.
She thanked him several more times as the other cops left and Grace began to yawn and lean heavily on her mother. Deciding to save all punishments until tomorrow, Amelia hoisted Grace into her arms. “I think I’d better get her to bed now.”
Officer Zanetti nodded. “Yeah you should.” He leaned over, catching Grace’s attention. She was half-asleep but awake enough to listen when he spoke. “Stay in bed this time, okay? Remember what we said.”
“Uh huh.” She took the letter out of her pocket and then, for whatever reason, handed it to the officer. “You promise Santa will read it?”
“If he doesn’t, I will read it to him myself,” he swore, as serious as if he had his hand on the Bible.
“Okay, but don’t open it until you see him,” Grace said. She nestled into the thick cottony fabric of Amelia’s nightgown and was asleep in seconds. Amelia gave Officer Zanetti a questioning look.
“Ah yeah…” He rubbed his neck. “I might have told her I work for Santa Claus to get her to come with me.”
Amelia chuckled. Her heart had yet to slow down all the way, but there was something hilarious about this tough guy cop getting embarrassed. “You’re a Christmas elf?”
“A bodyguard, thank you,” he said, affronted.
“That would’ve been my next guess.” He certainly looked the part, as the unhelpful part of Amelia’s brain was quick to point out.
They stood in awkward silence for a time until Grace shifted in Amelia’s arms, reminding her they probably shouldn’t stand outside in freezing cold weather. Officer Zanetti seemed to realize this at the same time. He coughed and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Okay, looks like everything is good here. I’ll let you two get some sleep.”
“Would you like some coffee before you go?” Amelia asked. “I feel like I owe you for finding my daughter.”
“Just keep her safe in bed tonight, Ma’am,” he said, walking back to his car. “Have a Merry Christmas.”
“You too,” Amelia called out, but he’d already started his engine, and she had no idea if he heard her. 

Thursday, 7 December 2017

Should I lick, fuck of spank the sass out of you? The first #NSFW excerpt from True, Deep and Forever: Part 1

True, Deep and Forever: Part 1
Book 5 of The Dark and Damaged Hearts

One marriage ... a second chance at love

Eight years ago their love was instantaneous, all-consuming and intense. Garret Banks had to have Amy Shaw the moment he met her, and no one thought the flame would ever go out.

Now, they have everything they’ve ever wanted: great careers, a beautiful baby, and a rock-solid marriage. Or do they? Garret’s high-stress architectural job is taking its toll. Amy's predicaments would be hilarious if they didn't make her want to cry. And to make matters worse, her ex is back in the picture, demanding answers about the wild passion she left behind — answers she isn’t willing to give. 

Garret and Amy grab quick, dirty sex while they can, but in between mommy wars, annoying in-laws, sleep deprivation and fears of betrayal, their marriage is put to the test time and time again. Once they were sure love conquers all, but how far can one marriage bend before it snaps?

“How would you like to be thanked?” he asked, his eyes at half-mast. He smelled like mouthwash and deodorant, and his head and cheeks had a shadow of hair, making him look rugged and dangerous. The women at playgroup said my husband looked like Shemar Moore, and in some lights I was inclined to agree. But Shemar Moore lookalike or not, Garret Banks was a sexy, virile specimen of a man. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavy in his throat as he leaned forward and captured my bottom lip between his teeth, pulling just enough to make me moan.
“Would you like to be thanked sweet and gentle? Or dirty and nasty? Should I punish you for interfering?”
My eyes flared wide and my body melted beneath his stare, pooling into a delightful warmth between my legs. “I—I was so out of line for interfering.” I gulped. “I had no right to poke my nose in your family affairs.”
A wolfish grin enveloped his face, and he sat up, straddling my legs and pulling the duvet cover down to my waist. Roughly he reached into my tank top and drew out my breasts. My chest heaved and my nipples pebbled as I bit my lip and stared up into his eyes. He leaned forward once again and took a tight bud in his mouth, sucking it hard, biting just enough to make me hiss and arch into him. His other hand came up and twisted and tweaked the other nipple with nimble fingers, delivering the same amount of delicious torture and making me wriggle and squirm beneath his big body.
“Should I lick, fuck, or spank the sass out of you?”
“Oh God,” I sighed. “All of the above.”
He gave me another wolfish smile. “On your knees, woman.”
I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth and scrambled up to my knees, my eyes flashing to the rising package beneath the thin layer of his cotton boxers. He shimmied out of his shorts, then there it was, staring me in the face with its one eye, daring me to take it all. And I did. I bottomed Garret out in my mouth immediately, taking him to the hilt and swallowing, letting my throat muscles contract around him. I spun my tongue up his length, flicking the tip with a saucy smile.
He groaned and pushed my head, eager for me to do it again. Again and again I took him to the back, suppressing my gag reflex and reveling in his primal grunts and the hard bucking of his hips. I smiled; he was a really easy man to turn on and an even easier man to drive completely insane.
I was just about to dip my head and lick his balls when big hands came up under my arms and forced me down on to all fours. He pulled my shorts and underwear down, and there I stayed as he climbed off the bed and went to his walk-in closet.
A trickle of arousal began to make its way down my legs. My nipples pearled and strained against my tight tank top, and I mentally berated myself for having turned him down so much lately. Sex with my husband was always great, so why did it always take so much convincing for me to do it? I heard the whistle and swish of his chosen “weapon” and grinned, ready and eager to take my “punishment.”
He wasted no time prepping me or talking. He knew I was ready and willing. The first whip came crack-fire fast and landed hard right across the backs of my thighs. I let out an involuntary hiss and flinched, but I couldn’t deny the smile that erupted on my face either. I loved it when he took the willow branch to me.
“You’re a kinky little masochist,” he chuckled, the slash of the whip coming down again and landing with a snap against the meatiest part of my butt. It was true. I liked it rough, and I liked a bit of pain with my pleasure. It’d taken a few months for me to show Garret that side of myself, but when I finally had, he revealed that he had never done anything of the sort and was as vanilla as they came. But he was eager and willing to learn, something I could work with. One afternoon, we’d been walking through a park after having grabbed lunch, and we came upon a big weeping willow. Our eyes had locked as we both got the same idea.
It’d been a very fun and delightfully painful evening, one that had prompted us to go back to that tree several times over the years and procure new, fresh whips, as the wet ones packed more of a wallop. When we’d started building our house and were figuring out the landscaping, we’d gone to the nursery together and picked out the biggest, most beautiful weeping willow they had. We’d gotten so turned on simply purchasing the tree that we’d actually ducked into the cedar hedge section of the nursery and had a quickie. But now, with the beautiful shady tree in our own back yard, we always had access to fresh whips whenever we needed them.
“You love it!” I grunted when a particularly painful swat landed across my lower back. “It’s the only time you truly get to wear the pants … ”
He snorted. “That’s what you think. I’m always wearing pants. I just let you wear pants, too.”
I craned my neck around to look at him, and he was stupidly grinning at me. He knew that saying he let me wear pants was going to get a rise out me. And it had. But this was all part of his little game. Not only had he succeeded in learning the darker side of pleasure, but he’d perfected the mindfuck too, playing with my head and keeping me guessing and wondering. He loved to rile me up and get me all hot and bothered, only to flip the switch and take the night in a whole different direction.
And that’s just what he did. After he’d gotten my ass good and pink, to the point where I knew I was going to have some issues sitting down tomorrow, he flipped me on to my back and, without a word, drove home. I inhaled quick and shallow from the sudden bite of discomfort as my bare backside rubbed against the sheets. But it soon dissolved, as I knew it would, and all that was left was a beautiful blooming heat that worked its way through my veins and made my entire body hum.
Pumping and hammering into me, splitting me open, he fucked me. He fucked me hard. His pubic bone ground against my clit until my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I could feel the calling of my climax. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck, bucking upward to meet his hips, desperate for more of him, for all of him. But then he switched gears again, keeping me on my toes, a master of the mindfuck.
Back up on all fours I was hauled, and this time instead of the willow branch, he reached for something small with a chain off the nightstand.
Ooh, the nipple clamps—yes! 

Enter here to win a copy of Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

Last day of the sale! Grab James NOW for only 99cents. PLUS, A #NSFW excerpt. You're welcome xox

Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1

Reduced to 99cents 
this price

Find out what people are saying about James and Emma's love story


"This is the first installment in this series as well as the first book I have read from this author. Their rapport, sexual chemistry, and utterly open and frank discussions and questions to each other had me reacting by either laughing out loud or reduced me to cringing, especially when Emma explained her relationship history. We watch and wait while they slowly realize that they cannot do without the other, but how their present lives are so complicated when it comes to incorporating their pasts into into it. Great read and sexy couple!"- SBee Reviews

 "Emma is meeting her best friend at the bar but she is very late however when she gets hold of her girlfriend’s husband it turns out she has food poisoning. James is having a drink as well with the intentions to get drunk as it is the anniversary of a very painful day in his life but when he overhears her call he strikes up a conversation. They have an enjoyable evening and the next day he asks her to dinner and that is the start of their relationship. What started as a casual relationship soon developed into much more however will they be able to handle the hurdles of both their pasts? Whitley Cox has a way of relating the feelings of the characters to make you feel what they are feeling and I look forward to Part 2."- Gillek2

He was her addiction; she was his everything…
Emma Everly is ready for her happily ever after. James Shaw doesn’t know happiness. But Emma knows that there is more to the brilliant and sexy millionaire project developer. Yearning to experience the world of pleasure that James is offering her, with no strings and no future, Emma agrees to the parameters of his proposition. No love, just sex  —and lots of it. After only one weekend, Emma feels her heart begin to bind to the man, and she knows she needs more, only James’ walls are up and he remains guarded and distant. He’s hiding something. As Emma falls hard and fast, into his intoxicating world of sex and passion, she fears that her own checkered past and James’ secrets may be what’s keeping their happily ever after just beyond their grasp.

NSFW Excerpt to whet your appetite. 
“I’m twelve years older than you,” he corrected, lifting one thick eyebrow to drive home the point. “That’s a whole generation between us. I’m Generation-X, and you’re a millennial. I’m not saying I mind or that it bothers me, on the contrary, I love it. I’m just pointing out a fact. We grew up watching different Saturday morning cartoons.”
We were having this conversation as though we were sitting at home eating a private dinner together; I’d forgotten that there were eight other pairs of eyes and ears at the table, so I lowered my voice and leaned in toward him. “It doesn’t bother me either, as long as you’re not old enough to be my dad I’m cool with the age difference. In fact, I like that you’re older and more mature. It’s hot.”
He smiled again and reached under the table to squeeze my knee. Only he didn’t stop there; he found the slit that ran high up my leg and worked his hand under the fabric trailing it softly, but deftly north until he reached the juncture of my thighs. My eyes bulged at him, but I was afraid to show any more emotion on my face that might give away what was going on under the table.
I tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible, but I’m a terrible liar, so I put my head down and stared at my halibut. James had started talking to the man on his left about permits and licensing, but I couldn’t really follow what they were saying. I was too focused on the hand and fingers that were busy pushing my panties to the side and brushing my clit in hypnotizing concentric circles.
“Do you not like the halibut, dear?”
“W-what… huh?” It was the older woman sitting on my left. She was probably close to eighty-five or ninety and wearing enough jewels they could probably see her from space. Her dress was black and designed to look like a 1920s flapper. She even had the headband with a feather to match, and her butter blonde hair was short and in tight curls; I’m sure she had it set that afternoon at the beauty parlor. She was charming. I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed her sitting next to me earlier, but I guess I’d been too focused on other things.
“Oh, uh, no I love the halibut, it’s wonderful. I’m… I’m just trying to pace myself. I ate the soup and salad rather quickly because it was so good, but I’m not sure how many courses there are to go, and I want to try them all… so, so, uh, I’m slowing down a bit.”
By this time James had slipped one finger inside me and was slowly sliding it in and out while caressing my clit with his thumb. I was so wet and probably making a damp spot on my dress and in turn the fabric seat cover. What was his angle? Where the hell did he intend to go with this? Surely he didn’t expect me to come — not here!
When dessert came, he was still fiddling beneath the table, relentlessly tormenting me. I tried my damnedest to have a chat with Edith, sitting beside me, but I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
I shifted and ground my pelvis into his hand, muffling moans of delight with my napkin. But the perpetrator in my panties didn’t seem fazed in the least and was still deep in discussion with the man on his right. I didn’t know what to do. It felt so good, but I was going to come if he didn’t stop. There were people all around us, yet at the same time I felt shrouded in a kinky cocoon of loveliness, solitary denizens caught up in our own delicious devices.
 How could I orgasm at the table without anyone knowing? Thank God for the long fabric table cloths, no one was the wiser, or so I hoped.
Dessert was a continuation of the excellence before, and between the sensations, I was experiencing in my mouth and the sensations beneath the table, I was a bundle of tightly wound dynamite ready to explode. I sincerely hoped the man had a plan.
Once again as if reading my mind, he leaned over and whispered, “When everyone claps, I want you to come for me.” What? When was that going to happen?
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please,” a big voice bellowed from the stage. I looked up to see a man in a white-tailed tux, tapping the microphone. “I’d like to announce that thanks to your generous donations tonight, and throughout the last few months we’ve managed to raise over twelve million dollars toward the renovations of the new cancer clinic.”
And then the applause erupted. James’ fingers increased their speed and force beneath the table, and in moments I couldn’t take it anymore, I closed my eyes and let go. Gripping the edge of the table, I leaned forward slightly, so any expression of ecstasy was masked by my fallen tendrils of hair. It was such an incredible feeling; to be doing something so intimate, so personal, so dirty —  in public. And no one was the wiser.

The exhibitionism of it only added to the pleasure and excitement. I joined in the applause at the end when I had regained enough composure to let go of the table. Watching in fascination and insatiable hunger as James licked his fingers clean of my wetness; his eyes speaking wicked and wild promises while his mouth foreshadowed the debauchery of the evening to come.

Sunday, 3 December 2017

Two scarred souls: one physically, one mentally. Both on the mend, hiding from their pasts...

Happy Re-release, Jeanne St. James!

Grab Damaged NOW!

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance (Light Suspense)

Buy link:
Free in Kindle Unlimited & also available in paperback!


Two scarred souls: one physically, one mentally. Both on the mend, hiding from their pasts...

Mace Walker can't wait to get home.

Being buried deep undercover for the past two years, on the most complex case of his career, has torn him down physically and mentally. Now the FBI agent has come home to recover after having his leg badly injured from a gunshot wound. Arriving home late one night, his relief is short-lived as he's faced with a stranger pointing a gun to his head, acting like he is the one who doesn't belong there!

Colby Parks, a biochemist at the local university, had come to town a year earlier to escape an abusive relationship. She vows never to put herself in that situation again.

Then the perfect opportunity comes along: house-sitting for Mace's sister while making the house she purchased habitable. But she couldn't anticipate this big snag: the one wearing the tight Levi's and worn leather jacket, looking like he had just escaped prison.

Being forced to share a house creates sparks between them in more ways than one. However, things take a turn when their pasts catch up to them, threatening to pull them apart forever.

Late in the afternoon, Mace heard a car drive up and opened the front door to see who it was. He surprised himself; he never even looked out the peephole first. It felt good to open a door without fear of some thug blowing holes in him. Three days home, and he was starting to relax already.
Colby parked a bright red, but older, convertible next to his not so bright, old Ford truck. He spotted the groceries in the back seat and went to help her.
“Sharp,” he said, snagging a couple of the bags.
Colby handed him a third and grabbed one herself. “Me or the car?”
“Both. I didn’t think you had a vehicle.”
“It was at the garage. Needed a water pump.”
He followed her into the house. “Yeah? Too bad I didn’t arrive sooner. I’m great with cars.”
“And women?” she tossed over her shoulder.
He grinned. “Them too.”
“Did you learn your mechanical skills at—”
Mace dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table in time to cover her mouth with his hand. “Don’t. I’ve had enough of your jailhouse wisecracks.”
His fingers against her warm, moist lips immediately sent a shock wave down to his groin. He wanted to run his thumb along her bottom lip and then dip it in and out of her mouth until it was wet. He would follow his thumb with his tongue. And other things. Or just one other thing: his aching, swollen cock. His eyelids lowered with need until Colby stepped away from him, breaking his contact, breaking into his thoughts.
“Too close to home?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.
Good. Maybe he affected her like she affected him. “No.”
“So, tell me what you do for a living.”
He broke eye contact first, because if he hadn’t, he would have pushed her Miss Proper skirt up and slammed his cock home very improper-like against the kitchen cabinet. Frontward, backward, he wouldn't be picky.
Instead, he concentrated hard on the subject at hand. “You first. What do you do with your days, Ms. Parks?”
“You’re avoiding the question. Finish carrying in the groceries while I unpack them, and then, and only then, I might play your little game, Mr. Walker.”
If she only knew what game he really wanted to play with her…
He behaved himself and brought in the rest of the bags. Settling into a chair, he regarded Colby while she started dinner.
“Are you an MCP?”
A what? He shot her a questioning look.
“A male chauvinist pig,” she clarified. “Don’t you cook or clean or do laundry?”
Mace smiled. “I try to avoid it at all costs.”
“So, who normally does all your domestic duties?”
“Here we go with the questions again. You still need to answer mine.”
She gave a little shrug. “Fine.”
He stood and moved in behind Colby. She started when she turned around and found him so close. Close enough to feel her heat. And make him lose his mind.
“What are you doing?”
The tremble in her voice caught his attention and threw a little cold water on his steaming hot libido. “Helping. I assume that’s what you wanted when you started in on the male chauvinist crap.”
When her relief was obviously clear, Mace shook his head. Three days had gone by. They’d eaten meals and watched TV together, and he had even helped her paint her yellow kitchen. Not to mention the make-out session in the hallway yesterday. But she still hadn’t relaxed around him yet.
Thinking about their up-close and personal time on Sunday made his cock snap right back up to attention. But he needed to be cautious. Even though he wanted to get down and dirty with her, discover all her secrets, he couldn’t push too hard. Not yet. He didn’t want to scare her away. Hell, if he wasn’t careful, the sexual tension would kill him.
“You’ve read my mind. You can make the salad.”
If they were reading each other’s minds, he was in trouble. Because right now, his mind was dirty, dirty, so fucking filthy. He imagined digging his fingers deep into her fireball mane while she sucked him off. She would be on her knees, and he would be guiding her head back and forth. Her wet mouth around his cock, little moans escaping her lips…
Mace bit off a groan and removed the rinsed vegetables out of the colander where they’d been drip-drying. He grabbed a cutting board and sat back down at the table to chop them. He had to concentrate on something else. Like lettuce.

Author Bio:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here:

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at or sign up for her newsletter:

Author Links: