Saturday, 21 October 2017

Winter is coming...and it's going to be a HOT one! It's the Season of Seduction, are you ready?

Winter is coming...and it's going to be a HOT one!

Only 30 days until this sexy winter set hits your e-reader and hits it hard.

Featuring my sexy stand-alone novel

Snowed In & Set Up

Christmas, a time when dreams come true, finds six lonely singles tricked into spending the holiday in a romantic cabin in the heart of Washington's snowy Snoqualmie Pass.

Dr. Will Colson, an ornery, overworked ER doctor, longs to get away and ignore the holiday, and Amber Roth, a feisty contractor with a chip on her shoulder, has a secret she’s kept for much too long. Then there’s Rowan Briggs, a talented chef who doesn’t know when to shut his trap, and brilliant author Juniper Davis, who's almost given up on love. Entrepreneur Hunter Kingsley simply wants to fill her empty heart and go on an adventure, and finally, there’s Austin Masters, the nerdy scientist with a penchant for fire and a bumbling awkwardness that always lands him in a tight spot.

Sparks fly and secrets are revealed during their five days together, but it's more than holiday whimsy and the spirit of the season that have their hearts aflutter. This year, Christmas magic—and sizzling attraction—might lead them to their true love, who could be right in front of them, standing beneath the mistletoe.


“Maybe we should try the door?” Amber suggested, elbowing her way forward and trying the knob. It swung forward, and the smell of cloves, oranges, pine tree and cinnamon hit her in the face like a roundhouse kick. She took a quick inhale and smiled.
It was the smell of Christmas.
“Do we go in?” Austin asked behind her. Hesitation colored his tone.
Amber shifted foot to foot, that sudden feeling of being a part of some horrible prank or a Christmas horror film creeping its way up her spine. Was a psychopathic man in a cheap velour jumpsuit and scraggly Santa beard going to come murder them all in their sleep with an ax? Chanting “HO, HO, HO!” as he hacked off their limbs?
Will moved forward into the house, his big frame taking up the entire doorway. “May as well. Maybe they ran back into town for supplies. Or they’re out skiing. Let’s check for a note or something.”
Everyone nodded, a series of murmurs both for and against the idea of wandering into the empty house filling the air, along with the shuffle and stomp of heavy boots and bags being brought across the threshold.
“Here’s a note!” Amber announced.
“What’s it say?” Juney asked.
“It says, ‘Hit Play.’ What the hell? Hit play where?”
“Here,” Will said, holding up the remote for the big-screen television mounted above the beautiful fireplace.
“So, hit play, then,” Rowan said, letting his bags clunk to the ground and wandering over to stand behind the couch, his trusty knife kit tucked under his arm as if it might suddenly jump up and run away. Everyone spread themselves out around the room, some sitting, some standing.
It was an enormous space, with plush dark brown leather furniture, cream shaggy rugs, green-and brick-colored tapestries and dark stained logs. But despite all the darkness, the big picture window next to the ten-foot-tall tree decorated in red, white and gold let in so much light, the place seemed massive and bright.
Will pointed the remote, and the television flashed to life.
“Hi, guys!” It was Daisy. “You’re probably wondering what the hell is going on. Well . . . I have a little confession to make: Riley and I won’t be joining you this week. Sorry.”
“What the fuck?” Rowan blurted.
“See . . . I’m a matchmaker. Like literally. I do it for a living, you all know that. Daisy’s Chain Attraction Match-Making Service is how Riley and I are able to afford the four-week Caribbean catamaran cruise we’re on right now. But in the spirit of the season, I decided to play matchmaker for free for some of our nearest and dearest friends. You’re all single, you’re all lonely, and you all are incredible people. I wouldn’t have invited you up if you were subpar. No, Daisy’s Chain Attraction only matches the best with the best.”
Rowan snorted.
Austin gulped.
Will made a manly noise in his throat that Amber couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“You’ve all been carefully selected, put through my computer, and your perfect match is here.” Wary and intrigued gazes drifted around the room, sizing one another up. Wondering, hoping, fantasizing. “But . . . ” Daisy raised one crimson painted nail in the air. “I’m not going to tell you who you’ve been matched with. That’s up to you to figure out.”
“You can’t be serious?” Amber muttered under her breath.
“Amber, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now. You’re probably getting ready to leave. Well, why do you think I had you take a shuttle? Give it a week. Enjoy the cabin, go skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing. Just get to know one another. The fridge is stocked, there’s lots to drink, and you even have a doctor on site in case one of you sprains an ankle. Right, Will?”
They all turned to look at the big doctor with the bright white smile, but he wasn’t in his spot. The sound of ice being cracked free of the tray drew everyone’s eyes. Will started pouring scotch into six glasses.
“If you don’t find love,” Daisy went on, “well, so be it. But my algorithm has resulted in over thirty marriages, nineteen babies, and that was only in the first two years.”
“She never said how many failed matches,” Rowan added snidely.
“I have an eighty-seven percent success rate, Rowan, the eternal pessimist.”
Rowan spun around. “Fuck, is she here? Does she have hidden cameras somewhere? Are we on a nanny cam?”
“You’re not on a nanny cam, don’t worry. I just know you all very well and know who’s cynical and who’s not.”
“Well, fuck,” Rowan grumbled under his breath.
“Now, have a holly jolly Christmas, enjoy getting to know one another, and . . . here’s hoping you get some use out of that mistletoe. Merry Christmas, everyone. The shuttle will be back to pick you up at noon on December 28th.”
The screen went black.

The sound of ice rattling around in glasses caused heads to swivel toward the noise. Will wandered back into the living room, his arms bogged down with a tray. “Who wants a drink?”

Pre-order NOW

Friday, 20 October 2017

Trick or Treat Book Boyfriend Bedhop Style! Only 10 stops but LOADS of great prizes to be won.



There are 10 authors giving away amazing PRIZES you can pick up by “Trick or Treating” (Facebook hopping) to each page!

-10 Authors in each Hop.
-Altogether over 30 PRIZES including a prize from each author on their facebook page, 2 grand prize “Gift Baskets” at the end of EACH hop where the winner will get an ebook from each author (10 books) sent directly to their kindle!

Make sure you visit ALL participating authors to increase your chances at winning some great prizes! Plus, when you make it to the end, you will get the link to the Gift Basket Rafflecopter!

Here’s what you have to do to be eligible:
LIKE my page
Tell me your favorite thing, and if you've decided to dress up, what you've chosen for a costume.

If you get lost, you can find the entire list of participating authors here:

Thanks and good luck everyone!

Thursday, 19 October 2017

I LOVE ZAK! I can't get enough of JSJ's new MC series, Down & Dirty. Sexy biker anyone?

Dirty Angels MC Series, bk 1
by Jeanne St. James

Available for the sale price of $2.99 for a limited time
or FREE on Kindle Unlimited here:

Add to your Goodread TBR pile here:


Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rule. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Zak’s story…

After spending the last ten years in prison, Zak, former DAMC president, has a few priorities: to reconnect with his “brothers,” to get drunk, and to get laid. Not necessarily in that order. When he spots a stunning woman in the clubhouse and mistakes her for one of the club’s strippers, those priorities get a bit skewed.
  Sophie has no idea what happened to her life. One minute she’s totally focused on building her bakery business, and the next? She’s delivering a cake to the Dirty Angels motorcycle club’s “homecoming” celebration for a member who just got out of prison. Little does she know baking that cake will change the rest of her life, not to mention, make her a target for a rival MC. Normally, Sophie wouldn’t be caught dead with a man like Zak, a tattooed, ex-con, badass biker.

 When a decades old territory war threatens to rip them apart, Zak will do anything to keep Sophie, his club, and the town safe. But being from two different worlds, the threat they’re under may not be worth the risk.


Something wet and warm touched her back there again, probed, teased, and she relaxed as much as she could. His tongue was replaced quickly with a roaming finger, doing the same thing.
When she heard a snap of the cap on the lube, she swallowed hard, her lips parting as her breathing shallowed. The cool gel was a shock against her heated skin, a total contrast to the warmth of his tongue and finger.
Then he was pushing gently, slowly. “That’s it, babe. Take me. Give this to me. Give me everything. All of you. Let me make this mine.” Her body melted into the bed at his murmurs, his whispers, his attempt at calming her spinning mind.
When she brought him upstairs, this was not what she had planned. But the sensations were nothing like she ever felt before. So unexpected. So crazy good. He slipped one knuckle deep, then two. Coaxing her gently, murmuring against her back as he did it.
“Don’t know if this is gonna work, babe. So tight. Might have to run out and—”
“No... Don’t go. Stay, keep going.”
“Fuck, babe. Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me. Survived ten years in the joint to be released and die happy inside you. That’d be the way to go.”
Sophie smiled into her folded arms, but it quickly disappeared when he worked her faster.
Suddenly, he slipped from her and she felt empty.
He slapped her ass lightly. “Up. On your knees. Keep your pretty head down.” God, they needed condoms and he needed to fuck her… like now!
He had iron-clad control, because he didn’t fuck her, instead she heard the hum of a vibrator. Her small purple one; she recognized the sound easily.
“Gonna get you so that you’re beggin’ me, babe. No doubt.”
His tone didn’t sound so cocky now. The way his soft words slipped from his lips, they sounded caring. He wanted to make sure she was ready for him.
The pressure of the small vibrator against the tight rim of her ass made her clench, then as the pulsations radiated through her, she relaxed. Opened to him. Invited him to do whatever he intended.
He hooked an arm around her hips, reaching beneath her to press a thumb against her clit, circling, rubbing, and she opened up even more for him.
“That’s it, babe,” he murmured, the smooth, lubed vibrator sinking deeply, easily into her.
Her eyelids fluttered and eyes rolled back.
Holy hell, if she knew it felt like this, she would have done this a long time ago.
“You like that,” he said, his voice low, strained. He had to be suffering at this point, his erection thick against her thigh.
He began to fuck her with the dildo, while playing with her clit until she cried out, her body convulsing uncontrollably. But he didn’t stop, no, he continued until she lost her mind, desperate for him now. Dying for him to be inside her, to take her completely. And she didn’t care where. Somewhere. Anywhere.
“Zak,” she groaned.
“Soon, babe,” he promised. “I can’t wait much longer, either.”
“Zak,” she called again, her voice breathless.
“Gotta make sure—”
“Zak,” she wailed, dragging his name out until she ran out of breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Oh, God, Zak.”
“Goddamn it,” he muttered some more.
“Oh, mother fuck.”
He released a hiss, slipped the vibrator from her, shut it off, then she heard the larger one.
Damn, she couldn’t take another one. She wanted him inside her instead. Not a toy. Him. Real. Hard. All male.
But he pressed the larger vibrator to her clit first, making her jump because it was now so sensitive. Then he slid it back and slipped it easily between her soaked folds. Her back arched as he seated it deep and held it still.
Her head rolled from side to side as she called his name again.
He cursed. And suddenly, he was there, the smooth slick head of his cock gliding against her, asking her permission to enter.
He pressed harder, struggling to get past the tight ring without hurting her. And it did hurt. Though, not enough to tell him to stop. She wanted him to hurry, become a part of her. Take her to the ends of the Earth and back.
Badass biker. Ex-con. Forbidden sex. A thrill ran through her. She gasped when he pushed further, farther, taking it home. Stretching her, filling her. Making her his.
Being the first, and maybe the only, to take her there.
With both the vibrations radiating from her core and him settled deep inside her ass, she bit her lip, her body, her mind spinning out of control.
She wanted him to move, but he didn’t. He remained still, quiet. But she could hear his breath, his deep, but rapid rasping. He started to speak, but his words dissipated into thin air. He tried again, but she couldn’t catch any of those words, either.
She found herself on another plane, another level. Honestly, she didn’t care what he had to say, only cared about what he was about to do.
And when he did it, she cried out. He was right, she would beg him. Beg him for more. Beg him to go faster. Beg him to go deeper.
Even when her lips parted to answer him, assure him she was all right, nothing came out. Nothing but a lost breath escaped.
He folded over her, gripped her hair and pulled her head back, arching her neck. His lips found her ear. “Can’t hold on, babe. I can’t. Sorry.”
It didn’t matter, her body decided she couldn’t, either. She tensed around his cock and the vibrator, both deep inside her, as the waves crashed through her, sweeping her under, dragging him along for the ride.

Author Bio:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a bestselling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! 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:

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