Spotlight ~ Sanguine Shadows by Erzabet Bishop #Shifters #Fae #1Click @erzabetbishop



Ball gowns and bite marks…
Mari Di Bartolo was a witch coming back to her roots in Salem. Juggling work and school, she is a woman on a mission until she is attacked one night after work and left for dead. When Mari is about to step through the veil, she is given a choice-become a vampire or fade away. She chooses life. Nevertheless, it’s not her new Sire that holds Mari’s attention, but the strange and enigmatic Fae with the golden green eyes. Full of mischief and mayhem, the night of the Vampire Ball is upon her and all that glitters may just be her teeth in the moonlight.

Darkness lurks in the shadows…
Fenris is the Captain of the Guard for the Queen of the Dark Court. For centuries he’s secured the barrier between the human world and Faery, part of a Protectorate that keeps humans blissfully ignorant of the beings hidden in their midst. But when another rogue wolf attack brings him to a crime scene, he remembers another girl with long dark hair and eyes that spoke to his soul. On a night filled with wild magic, there will be blood and some of it might just be given willingly.

*Includes Bonus: Map Of Bones, a prequel short story to Malediction.

Available for #FREE on KU!
99 cents for a limited time!

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Curse Worker Series:

  1. Sanguine Shadows
  2. Map of Bones
  3. Malediction (pre-order now!
  4. Arcane (coming soon)


Excerpt from Sanguine Shadows by Erzabet Bishop

Her eyes widened and her lips parted and he caught a glimpse of fang. “I…didn’t know you cared.”

“If I didn’t, why would I have convinced Roark to turn you?” He tugged her closer, the push of her breasts against his chest making it hard to concentrate on mere words. He’d known she was meant for him from the first second he’d seen her but he had to let Roark take her or risk her dying.

“You don’t know me. I was just a girl on the street. A human not worth your consideration.”

Fenris didn’t miss the hurt in her eyes. Perhaps he had been wrong leaving her alone. He’d been convinced he was right letting her assimilate unhindered into her new life. He also couldn’t fault her reasoning. She was right. They had no claim on one another, only an attraction that blazed to life in the most untenable of situations.

But she was wrong on one account. He had noticed her before-just not in a way he might have acted upon. Human and supernatural interaction was forbidden but he was unable to let her die. Not like that.

He wasn’t able to stop thinking about her and hadn’t since that night.

“I did notice you, witchling. How could I not?” He lifted a finger and traced the side of her face, his cock hardening at the moan that slipped unbidden from her lips. “You burn inside of me. Only I couldn’t act. Not until then. But I had to save you. To do anything else…” He let his voice trail off and watched her reaction.

Mari blinked and reached forward, pressing her lips to his. “It’s like a fire, isn’t it? A fire in the blood.”

“Oh Gods, yes.”


About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is an award-winning and international bestselling author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Crave, Snow (Three Times More Lucky Box Set), Malediction, Map of Bones, Sanguine Shadows, The Science of Lust, Wicked for You, Heart’s Protector, Burning for You, Taming the Beast, Mistletoe Kisses, Surrender, Torment (upcoming), Hedging Her Bets, Cat’s Got Her Tongue (Alpha Heat Box Set), Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark (upcoming),The Devil’s Due (upcoming), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Sweet Seductions, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies.

Follow her on Twitter @erzabetbishop.




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A Day in the Writing Life of SJ Smith #PNR #Comedy #ERom (@CW1985)


A Day in the Writing Life

I tend to wait until the creative juices are flowing before I even attempt to write. There’s no point trying to force things along, in my opinion; it doesn’t work and ultimately can do more harm than good. I wonder how many writing projects get abandoned halfway through because of frustration? If the evidence on my hard drive is anything to go by, I’d say it’s a fairly common occurrence.

When the time is right and the words are flowing I’ll work all hours of the day and night. I lock myself away in my office, smoke a lot of cigarettes, drink a lot of coffee and growl at anyone who attempts to engage me in conversation. There’s nothing worse than composing a brilliant sentence in your mind, only to lose it to the ether as someone wanders in to tell you some meaningless drivel about something they saw on TV the other day. When I’m writing I need you to stay the fuck away. You have been warned.

I don’t do it to be nasty. You have to understand, I’m in another place; holding the fates of a dozen made up people in my hands; working out how to move them from one situation to another: How they will react? What will they be thinking about? Will the circumstances remind them of another point in their life? What effect will the surrounding environment have upon them? What colour are the curtains? What does the place smell like? It’s impossible to create another world while someone is talking at you.

Of course, there are many different stages to composing a novel, and not all of them involve such deep troughs of concentration and solitude. It’s only really the first draft – the initial explosion of ideas – which requires me to segregate myself from the rest of the planet. I can pass for an almost decent human being during the editing stages, as the creative requirements are not quite so intense.

And not all of the work is done at my computer. A lot is composed in my head in advance, and this will generally involve a lot of pacing back and forth and muttering. One advantage of this method is I can claim to be working at any time – even when I’m lying on the sofa with my eyes closed. Sorry, I can’t go shopping, can’t you see how busy I am? Tee hee hee.

I’m supposed to be working right now. I’m at the planning stages of the sequel to House of Fox, and I really ought to be making some headway. Trouble is, I’ve got so much going on that my concentration span is down to about twenty-five seconds. As previously stated, there’s no point trying to force the issue. When the time is right to put pen to paper I’ll know, and the words will flow like wine once I’m back in that wonderful creative zone.


The House of Fox blurb:2016-291 eBook The House of Fox 6x9

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality.

But all is not as it seems.

The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .



The House of Fox excerpt:

Jane!” Dylan called from the stage.

She kept her gun trained on Donna a moment longer, relishing the fear that had wiped away that look of smugness, and then turned to face him. “Dylan the Dick.” She readjusted her aim, pointing the muzzle at his crotch. “Soon to be Dylan the Dickless if you give me any trouble.”

He smiled. “I’m sensing you have some anger management issues, young lady.”

Jane did a double take, incredulous he could be quite so dumb. “Oh what a great idea, Dylan: Hey, let’s make jokes at the expense of the lady who has a gun trained on our prize shlong. That’ll certainly prove you aren’t the moron everyone claims you are.”

“Have people been saying I’m a moron?” He rolled his eyes. “Not that old chestnut.”

“It’s a well known fact you have more dong than ding.” She cocked her head to one side. “Which is what got us all wondering – how could someone as retarded as yourself possibly manage to put this little insurrection together? It’s patently obvious you’re merely the puppet, so if you want to spare yourself an eternity of agony, start naming names. Who put you up to this, Dylan?”

“Funnily enough, the person who put me up to it also provided me with this.” He held out his hand to show her a silver device sandwiched in his fist. “If my thumb lets go of this button, a V bomb will take out this entire level and we’ll all spend eternity in agony.”

Jane took a step back and waved away the encroaching militia. Her bravado died pitifully inside her chest. She should have known it was too good to last.

“Looks like the moron stole a march on the Fox Girls.” Dylan waved the silver device in the air. “Guess that makes you pretty stupid, huh?”

“Put it down,” Jane shrieked, raising the muzzle of the gun level with his head.

“Put it down? Okay, I’ll put it down.” Dylan bent forward, making as if to drop the device on the floor.

“Stop!” Jane backed up another step, panic bubbling at the realisation she’d fucked everything up. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You think so? Do you know what a V bomb is, Jane?” Dylan’s twisted smile mocked her to the core. “It’s a very powerful piece of black witchcraft that essentially turns every vagina within a hundred yard radius into a hydrogen bomb. Your little ginger quim will explode with the force of ten Hiroshimas, blowing you and everyone else within a mile into a billion pieces in the blink of an eye.”

Jane stared at him, trying to work out if he was bullshitting or not.

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 HOF quote 2

Author bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger.


Twitter: @sjsmithauthor



Publisher: @SinfulPress




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5 Novels that Have Inspired author, KD Grace #Witches #BookTour #Giveaway @KD_Grace (@cw1985)

Five Novels that Have Inspired Me

Giveaway: Please help me celebrate the launch of Demon Interrupted. I’m giving away a $30/£20 Amazon gift voucher. Enter via the Rafflecopter (at end of post) for chances to win!  

Thanks so much for having me over today, Kacey, to celebrate the launch of Demon Interrupted, the fourth of the Lakeland Witches novels. I’m very excited to be here. Since I’m giving away an Amazon gift voucher to share the celebration, I am especially pleased that you’ve asked me to talk about five books that have inspired me.

Though I’ve read a lot of really fabulous books, it actually wasn’t all that hard to pick out the five that inspired me most over the years and to say exactly why they did. It may surprise people that while only one of them is an erotica novel, I feel that all of them have not only entertained me and made me think, but they’ve made me a better writer as well.

These are not in any specific order.

  1. Empire of the East by Fred Saberhagen

This is an oldie but one of my absolute favourite Scifi/Fantasy novels, one I never get tired of reading. I had a world literature teacher in Uni who told us the very first day of class that if we didn’t like to read when we started her class, we either would by the end, or we would drop the class because we would be reading, and we would be reading LOTS! I owe Dr. Monaghan for helping me fall in love with reading. After that class, I couldn’t read enough, and one of the very best novels I read was Empire of the East. To this day it still inspires my imagination in ways no other novel ever has.

  1. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley

From the time I read The Once and Future King in 7th grade, I loved the Arthurian legends and, while I would definitely put The Once and Future King on my list of favourite novels, it’s Mists that makes the top five because a story that amazed me from the get-go amazed me even more when it was told, so imaginatively, from the point of view of the women in the story and when it was told from the pagan angle rather than the Christian. I was absolutely enraptured. Mists is a book that led me to explore my own pagan roots, and it also led me to rethink so many of our western stories and myths from the female perspective, it made me aware of just how lacking that perspective is.

  1. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. I’m sure I won’t have to tell anyone who has read this book that it’s one of the most haunting novels ever written. Few novels have stuck with me in such a way or given me anywhere near the goose bumps and tingles that Rebecca has and still does. The power of the novel, for me, is that the story it tells is not the story you think it’s telling, and du Maurier tells that deceptive story so beautifully, so seamlessly, that I never saw it coming. When I think of telling a tale that pulls the reader in with skin tingling, spine chilling nuance and then leads them to a place even more chilling than the one they were expecting, this one is it. This one is a whole creative writing class in a single novel, as well as one of the most gripping tales I’ve ever read. For any writer who hasn’t read it already, I can’t recommend it enough. For those who have, read it again, for the chills, for the story, for a refresher course in the writing lessons.
  1. Control by Charlotte Stein is the only proper erotica novel on my list. Not only was it one of the first erotica novels I read but it was, again, a teaching tool for me. Charlotte’s view of the dominant and submissive relationship took it out of bondage and latex, which I wasn’t all that fond of, and made it about people and their inner most desires for how they wanted to be with the opposite sex. That, I think, has been the key to all my novels since – what do these two people fantasize about? What’s their secret longing? How do they need to be with their partner? How do they need their partner to be with them? Control is psychologically complex while at the same time a simple story of what two people, plus a third, need. Brilliant.
  1. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. I read the Outlander novels long before Starz totally enthralled me with Sam Heughan and Catriona Balfe’s beautiful portrayals of Jamie and Claire. The story is not like any I’ve ever read before. It follows no template I can think of. I remember the first time I looked in a bookstore for the next novel in the series, I couldn’t find it, and when I asked, I was totally shocked to discover that it was in the ROMANCE section! The novels cross genres in so many ways I couldn’t imagine, even as I fell in love with Jamie just as Claire did, that this novel and the ones that followed could be pigeonholed as romance. Having said that, some of the most erotic scenes I’ve ever read, some of the most unselfconscious sex and some of the most terrifying have been in Outlander. It’s another treasure trove of learning how to write – if you can stay focused on the lessons while reading such an incredible story.


That’s my top five in a nutshell, and it was SO much fun to share with you lovely readers, just why I love these novels. Thanks again for having me over, Kacey.It’s been great!

Please remember to comment for a chance to win the Gift Card so you can work on increasing your own list of favourite reads. And being a bit mercenary, as I am, I do hope that Demon Interrupted will now be on your TBR list.

Demon Interrupted


Ferris Ryder has a choice to make. He can reclaim the past, which he now consciously keeps from his memories or he can let all that he fears to remember destroy the present and the Elemental Coven he has come to love. Has the mysterious Elaine come into his life to be his guiding angel or will she tear his world, and that of his coven family, apart?

Demon Interrupted is published by Xcite Books, and is available from Amazon (universal link).


Carefully, he slid out from under the duvet and made sure Fiori was well tucked in, even knowing as he did that no harm from the cold would come to her, not really. She hadn’t drawn breath in almost two years now. Strange, he thought, as he pushed into his clothes, his eyes still locked on the sleeping ghost, who still maintained her physicality so that she could endure, even relish, the torture of the Dream World. Strange that one who was dead should seem so much more alive than he. In truth it was as though he were the ghost that haunted the halls of Elemental Cottage when everyone else rested. And in all honesty, his flesh had only begun to matter to him as more than a vessel to serve Cassandra since his arrival at Elemental Cottage. Flesh, at Elemental Cottage, was a grounding in which powerful magic took place. As he dressed, he rested his hand against his cock through his trousers and felt it stretch to his touch. Imagine his surprise when he found, upon his arrival, that his own flesh once again had desires, that food and drink and sex and flesh against flesh burst, ne fairly exploded, into his perpetual present, and his life became three dimensional for the fist time in his memory.

And flesh, it was an anchor to a family that he thought he would never have. Even when Cassandra had been his soul purpose, he had exerted no control over her and she had sought no closeness in their relationship. He thanked the goddess that at least Lucia hadn’t deemed it necessary for him to live with the open-wound that Cassandra’s constant peregrinations could so easily have left him. No, he had gone about his days in a grey haze of duty that bound him deeply and yet he felt with a distance that eased his empathy at the young succubus’s suffering, yet never lessened his loyalty to her, nor his desire to protect her. For that at least he had been grateful.

He slipped out the door and moved down the hall toward his own suite. Here at Elemental Cottage, he was welcomed for no other reason that the fact that he was here. Periodically he made trips down to Surry to check on Cassandra’s estate there until a decision could be made as to the best use of the property. But it was always with a sense of anticipation and pleasure that he returned to the Lake District and to the warmth and camaraderie of Elemental Cottage.

When he reached his suite, he stood for a long moment in front of the closed door, then he turned and headed back down the long hallway past the rooms replete with sleepers traversing the Dream World, sleepers who had only a short while ago made love in honour of the waxing of the moon. The power of sex settled over the house like the moonlight did as he made his way to the staircase and down to the library. The fire was laid in the hearth, as it always was and, once it was lit, he perused the massive shelves for something, anything, that might ease his restlessness. He was looking through a section of old texts on alchemy when he became aware that he was no longer alone. The sudden warmth on his back made him feel as though he stood too close to the fire. In spite of the warmth his arms goose fleshed and his stomach somersaulted.

‘I can assure you, Ferris, there is nothing upon these shelves that can compare to the paths of knowledge you refuse to traverse.’ In spite of the inviting contralto timbre of the voice, Ferris felt a tremor climb his spine.

‘And I can assure you, Lucia –’ he said without looking behind him ‘– the most hideous volumes on these shelves I would fear less to peruse, than those places of which you speak.’

The demon moved in so close to him that if the fire of her had been a physical flame, his back would have been a cinder. As she crowded him against the book-lined shelves, for a moment, he resisted, ignoring the futility of such an effort. For a moment. Then he relaxed and let her invade his inner space. It was only as she exploded into those inner realms that he realized in all the years of her presence, in all the years of her on the edges of his consciousness, she had never come fully into him before. The weight of her, though not physical, was terrible, and he stumbled backward feeling his way to the sofa, gasping for breath as though all of the oxygen had gone from the world, feeling his flesh burn beyond ash even as everything remained as it was, and yet would never again be the same.

‘You gave me a choice,’ he gasped in a voice that would have been a scream if he could have managed more than a whisper. ‘And I made that choice.’

She pushed in even nearer, as if that were possible, and behind his tightly clenched eyelids he saw both the beauty and the horror of her poised closer than his own breath. ‘I gave you a gift.’ Her voice roared like the winds on the high fells. ‘I gave you a gift and I expected you to open it, to look at it, to use it.’

‘I didn’t want it! I still don’t want it! I was happy as I was.’

‘You can’t lie to me, Ferris. You were not happy. You were nothing more than a tool for my use.’ It felt as though she leaned into him and whispered in his ear. ‘And you didn’t fight me when I made you the offer.’ He felt the weight of female curves against him, on top of him, pushing him down onto the sofa, and to his horror, he was aroused, even as he was terrified.

‘I’m fighting you now,’ he said, realizing that the more he struggled the more aroused he became.

‘You may fight if you choose, but it will do you no good. Did you not think that I would reward you for a job well done?’ He felt an invisible hand move against the erection he could scarce believe was there. ‘Did you think that I would leave you with no comfort when your job was done?’

He cried out and arched against stroking and caressing. ‘Cassandra was her own reward. I asked nothing else of you.’

Her laughter climbed his spine like ticklish fingers. Hands ripped at his trousers, buttons popped from his shirt. ‘You don’t know what you asked of me, Ferris, and you don’t know what I demanded of you, or what I denied you. Do you not at least want the option to hate me for all that I took from you? Is that not properly yours to claim?’

He was shocked to discover that his trousers were around his knees and that it was his own hand stroking his cock while the other cupped the heavy weight of his balls. He was embarrassed to find her watching him from the winged back chair next to the hearth, clothed in the robe of fire in which he had always seen her.

‘Everyone here has fought demons, Ferris. Everyone here has suffered great loss. But for you it’s all been vicarious, has it not? For you the battle for the Elemental Coven was no more personal than the loyalty you pledged to Cassandra. I’ve kept you safe; I’ve kept you distant from yourself for all these years for your own protection and for the protection of that which I hold dear. And now you choose to remain in the empty space I created for you because you think it’s there that you’ll remain safe. I tell you now, Ferris, and I tell you honestly, there is no safety in this place you choose to remain, and if you don’t move forward and claim the time that was taken from you, you will suffer for it, ne, not only will you suffer for it, but all those who care for you will suffer as well. And they do care for you, Ferris.’ She spoke with a broad sweep of her arm. ‘They all do.’

There was a loud thud and a woman’s startled gasp, and it was all swiftly followed by bruising pain.

‘Ferris! Ferris are you all right?’ From his position face down on the floor, Ferris recognized Fiori’s voice. Opening his eyes, he became aware of her kneeling next to him, naked.

‘I’m fine! I’m fine.’ He pushed himself to a sitting position, then took the hand she offered as she pulled him to her feet. ‘I … fell out of bed?’

Fiori’s laugh was sleepy and warm as she tugged him back under the duvet. ‘You sure you weren’t dreaming, because you seemed to have been carrying on a conversation with someone.’ As he settled back into bed next to her, she straddled him, and with a shift of her hips mounted him, her grip on his erection a tight caress. ‘Something tells me it was a sexy dream.’

That he could be aroused after what had happened would have stunned him if his visitation had been from anyone other than Lucia. But she was a lust demon, and there was no denying her mark on his flesh. ‘No dreams,’ he lied, grinding his butt into the mattress and then arching up to bury his cock deeper in Fiori’s body, cupping the weight of her full breasts in his hands. ‘Just being in bed with you, that’s all.’

Fortunately, as he moved a hand down to rest against her pubis and thumb her hard clit, she seemed to lose her train of thought, and her tight shifting against his penis eased his own mental processing and brought him back to the calm centre of the present in which he existed, though there was now no denying that he might not be allowed to stay there much longer.

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About KD:

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And kdgracenobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, The Pet Shop and To Rome with Lust. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis and The Exhibition are all available. Interviewing Wade, a follow up novel to the trilogy, is coming soon.

Find K D Here:








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Blog Tour ~ Claiming the She-Wolf by Louisa Bacio #BlackHillsWolves #Shifter @InThePages @LouisaBacio @DecadentPub

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Claiming the She-wolfBlack Hills Wolves
Claiming the She-Wolf by Louisa Bacio
When her older brother leaves the Black Hills to go to college, Tala Graystone stays behind, determined to restore their dilapidated home into a B&B for the pack. As more people return to the area, the need for temporary housing increases. Now, if only she can find someone to help with the heavy lifting.

Yas Collins fled Los Lobos as a child with his mother. As he struggles with his wolf and overpowering shifts, a desire for nature and the forest strikes hard. Black Hills, South Dakota, beckons him. With a background in construction, he easily finds work at Tala’s dilapidated B&B, but not everyone in town greets him with open arms.

As the remodel gets underway, Tala and Yas fight their growing attraction. Yas doesn’t trust his wolf urges around beautiful B&B owner. The she-wolf, however, has other plans.


Excerpt from Claiming the She-Wolf:

A growl from low in his throat threatened to escape. The rumble started in his chest, and he fought to keep it down.

She turned, looking down at him. “Did you say something?”

“Umm, no. Just clearing my throat.”

He needed to get his base instincts under control. Recent research showed that wolves in the wild killed in order to protect their domains and to get more space. He didn’t want to be ruled by his wolf. He’d grown up in the city, with humans, not out in the forest. His mom had tried to talk to him about shifting, but as a woman, she didn’t have the same experience.

He couldn’t go to a shifters anonymous group for help with his sexual urges. Maybe he needed to start his own support group. He snorted at the idea. At the top of the landing, Tala turned to the right, and he followed.

They entered what had to be the master bedroom suite. It was painted a vibrant lavender color, and the bed had a green floral comforter with an abundance of fluffy throw pillows. White dollies rested on the two nightstands, and a vase of wildflowers called for attention. The feminine room seemed in sharp contrast to his host. She didn’t look frilly.

“This will be your quarters.” Her lips pursed, and she blinked a few times.

The idea shocked him. “What? I’m sorry, but it looks like your room.”

“Well, it has been. But it’s the nicest room in the house, and as a guest, figure you should have it to be comfortable. I’ll move my things into another one.”

He waved his hands in front of him, as if shooing away something physically bad. “No way. No can do. Give me the second best, then. My first job can be fixing it up.”

She smiled. “Well, second best would be my brother’s room, and even though he’s on a trip right now, I don’t feel comfortable moving his stuff. So third best, and we work today to make it more, um, livable?”

Her choice of words made him pause. “Deal.”


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About the Author:
A Southern California native, Louisa Bacio can’t imagine living far away from the ocean. The multi-published author of erotic romance enjoys writing within all realms – from short stories to full-length novels.

Bacio shares her household with a supportive husband, two daughters growing “too fast,” and a multitude pet craziness: Two dogs, five fish tanks, an aviary, hamsters, rabbits and hermit crabs. In her other life, she teaches college classes in English, journalism and popular culture.

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Masquerade by Victoria Vale #BookTour #Giveaway #Regency @LoveBitesSilk @EroticabyVicki

 Masquerade by Victoria Vale

Genre: Erotic, Historical Romance, Regency


Top Ten Facts About Life in the Regency Era

The Regency era has long been romanticized in film, TV, and literature, and with good reason. The period is rich is culture, and the decadent lives of the London ton are fascinating to those of us who are addicted to all things Regency. Here are my top ten facts about the era we all love, and think we know—yet there always seems to be something new to learn about it.

  1. If you’ve ever wondered why in a Regency novel your hero and heroine can carry on an entire conversation during a dance … well, that’s because dances lasted a long time! This was a wonderful way to engage in conversation, which could be helpful if you were scoping out potential mates. A pair of country dances lasted half an hour, so if a gentleman signed you card for a set, you’d have him in your clutches for thirty whole minutes!
  2. While romance novels give their hero and heroine a lot of leeway—how else could they get together for those sweet little trysts—courtship was actually very strict in the Regency era. So much so that a man was no even allowed to call the woman he was courting by her first name. Perhaps he could after they were engaged, but a courting pair must refer to each other formally—by title, or for those without titles ‘Mr.’ and ‘Miss’.
  3. Ever read about a Regency hero who has been educated at Cambridge or Oxford? It’s the standard, especially for a first son set to inherit his father’s title someday. What many don’t know is that young men were sent to university for reasons other than receiving an education. The primary purpose of going to university was to make connections with other young men, who could prove your political or social allies in adulthood. Education was important, but still secondary to this goal.
  4. While many of the ‘scandals’ you read about in Regency romances can border on the outlandish, in reality, it took very little to ruin a young woman’s reputation. Thus the reason they were always monitored and chaperoned so closely. A chaste kiss is nothing by today’s standards, but in the Regency era, it would have been enough to force a couple into marriage if they were caught.
  5. Unmarried ladies during these times knew virtually nothing about the act of sex until the night before the wedding. Young debutantes on the marriage mart were kept in the dark concerning intercourse, and if her mother felt particularly squeamish about discussing the act, the poor thing might go to her marriage bed with nothing more than this unhelpful advice: “Just close your eyes and think of England”!
  6. While the Regency era was all about rules and propriety, almost anything was overlooked as long as ‘discretion’ was used. Even a woman could have her share of fun … so long as she was married and had given her husband and heir. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for a married woman to be escorted about in public by a man who was not her husband. It might even be common knowledge among her peers that she indulged in an affair with him. As long as she was discreet and had done her duty by her husband, her peers would look the other way.
  7. Mean Girls has nothing on the women of the Regency era. Because Regency era life could be so boring, gossip was a legitimate form of entertainment among the people of the ton. When someone was indiscreet, or did something that others perceived to be unseemly, their reputations could literally be ruined. The ton could be a vicious animal, loving its members one day, and tearing them to shreds the next over what we might think of as the tiniest things. Giving someone the ‘cut direct’ in public was one of the worst things you could do.
  8. It didn’t matter how rich you were, absolutely EVERYTHING was about bloodline. Even if your estate had been exhausted and you had squandered every penny, your name still carried more weight than a merchant who was rolling in cash. Titles were passed down from father to son, and the older your bloodline and wealth, the higher your standing in society. Your money might buy entrée into society, but you would always reek of ‘new money’ among the people of the ton.
  9. Women weren’t the only ones who wore corsets. Men’s fashion was just as important as women’s’, and if you didn’t have the figure for the style of clothing that was popular at the time you could always manufacture one. Padding for shoulders and thighs were not uncommon, and a portly man could cinch his waist with a corset. Of course, a Regency romance hero always fills out his coat and breeches without the assistance of padding or stays!
  10. Beauty could only get you so far on the marriage mart. Of course it helped if you were a diamond of the first water. However, a plain Jane with a large dowry was far more attractive to potential husbands—especially the ones who needed to marry for the sake of money.

Margaret Seymour is bored by the stifling constraints of society dictating her behavior as a debutante in search of a husband. Her prospects are promising by the standards of London society, yet, not one of them causes her heart to flutter, or her head to fill with scintillating, forbidden fantasies. Those feelings are reserved for Camden Rycroft, Duke of Avonleah—a man who isn’t even aware of her existence.

While attending a scandalous Vauxhall Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?

Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living without her?





“You must know how many hearts you’ve stolen just by walking into a room. Many a night, I have watched you take a lady into your arms to waltz with her and wished I could be her. To be so close to you, moving together … to know your scent and your touch …” She paused, realizing she’d said far too much.

Camden circled behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders. His lips brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.

“I cannot deny knowing you have watched me from afar all this time does not bring me pleasure, Maggie,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path toward her ear. “When you watched me with those women, did you wonder if there was more to our association than a simple waltz would suggest?”

She nodded in response, unable to speak when he nibbled on her neck, teasing the most deliciously sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“You wondered if any of them would accompany me home, didn’t you? You thought about what I did to them.”

She groaned as he took the shell of her ear between his teeth.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I did.”

“How did you feel when you thought about it—when you imagined all the wicked things I did to those other ladies?”

His hands worked at the buttons running down her back, sliding them loose one by one, opening her gown.

“Jealous,” she admitted.

He gripped the sleeves of her gown and pulled, lowering it to the floor to pool around her feet. His hands took her waist and he pulled her against him, his lips trailing along her shoulder.

“Did you fantasize about me, Maggie? Did you wonder what it would be like to be one of them?”

“I did,” she said, her voice low and husky. “At night, alone in my bed, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to be with you.”

“Oh, Maggie,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and mock horror. “Never say you were ever so naughty.”

She giggled, bit her lower lip, and leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. “I was.”

“You touched yourself when you thought about me, didn’t you?” One of his hands slid across her stomach, lowering slowly toward the apex of her thighs. “Did you pleasure yourself to fantasies of me?”

He cupped her mons, his fingers massaging gently and drawing moisture from her core.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice strained as he continued to tease her. “Yes, I did.”

“Show me,” he whispered, removing his hand.

She groaned in agitation, wishing for his touch again. Yet, he seemed to be waiting for her to fulfill his command.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself, Maggie,” he said, his voice a bit rougher this time—a demand she dared not refuse. Not if she wished for more of the pleasure he could give her.


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Victoria Vale has written over two dozens Romance and Young Adult novels under various pseudonyms. As a lover of erotic romance, she enjoys nothing more than a sexy hero paired with a sassy heroine, flavored with a dash of spice and lots of heat. A wife and mother of three, she enjoys reading (of course), cooking, sewing … and other activities that aren’t appropriate for inclusion in a biography.