Spotlight ~ Grayscale by Rebecca Brochu #Gay #Suspense #Erotic @AuthorRBrochu @EvernightPub

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BLURB:
As a Chroma agent, one of the elite operatives for the Spectrum Intelligence Agency, Jonah Gray was skilled enough to handle most anything that came his way. If not Jonah knew he could always rely on his handler, the clever Mr. Fox, to pull him through. Drawn to the seductive voice and commanding strength of the man on the other end of the line, Jonah wavers between his attraction to his handler and the knowledge that handlers and operatives are never supposed to meet.

Then a mission goes horribly wrong and Jonah finds himself on the wrong end of a kill order. With Jonah on the run both handler and operative are desperate to finally meet so they can face this new threat head on. Together they struggle to discover who wants Jonah dead while they finally take the opportunity to embrace the passion that has always simmered between them.

 

EXCERPT:
“Are your eyes closed?” Silas asked him quieter than before, softer and gentler.

“Yes Sir.” Jonah felt vulnerable in that moment, in a way he thought he’d left behind a long time ago. To distract himself a bit he let his hands come down to rest on his stomach, let his fingers slide gently over the skin there, but no lower. He didn’t have permission for that yet, after all.

“I’ve got you,” Silas promised almost as if he could tell what Jonah was feeling without even being able to see him. “You’re safe with me remember? You can relax and trust me Jonah. You can trust me to keep you safe, to tell you what to do. You can trust me with all of that. With all of you.”

“I know. I do.” Jonah fought back the swell of emotions in his chest as the mixture of devotion and affection that he always felt towards Silas threatened to burst free. Slowly, deliberately, he inhaled again. Exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled, repeated it until he felt himself even out, felt himself center.

“Good.” Silas said it roughly, voice ragged in a way that let Jonah know just how much his admittance meant to Silas. “I wish I could see you right now. You’re gorgeous Jonah, you know that don’t you? I bet you’re beautiful the way you are right now, laid back on that bed with your eyes closed, cock hard and body open. I bet you’re perfect. I’ve always thought you would be. Ever since the first time I saw you.”

Jonah’s eyes flew open in stunned surprise before he slammed them shut again. Silas’s voice was ragged but honest, deep and thick with that hot, honey drawl that Jonah loved so much.

“You’ve seen me?” The thought that Silas had seen him, knew what he looked like, and so obviously approved, made Jonah feel slightly giddy with a mixture of pride and relief.

“Oh yes.” Silas sounded amused for a moment then. “I’ve seen you many times Jonah. I am your handler after all. I’ve read your file, seen videos. Sometimes I watch you on the security cameras on missions. You’re a thing of beauty, Jonah. All lethal grace and power that draws the eye. Even when you’re off mission, even when you’re wandering around whatever city or town you decide to spend your time in, you’re still fascinating. Captivating.”

“And do I?” Jonah couldn’t help but ask. He needed to know, burned to know for certain whether or not the fascination he felt was mutual. “Do I captivate you?”

“Completely,” Silas admitted quietly and with that sort of brutal honesty in his voice that Jonah adored.

 

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Excerpt of Branded Irish by Sara Brookes #BDSM #Erotic #SinnersandSaints

SB_Branded-Irish_coverinBranded Irish (Sinners & Saints #2)

Contemporary Erotic Romance/BDSM

Loose Id

Amazon

All Romance eBooks


 

She’s a genius with biotechnology. He’s a sadist in tailored suits. Their business arrangement is about to get personal…in more ways than one.

For workaholic Arden, the vacation to a tropical paradise was supposed to be relaxing. But when a past lover unexpectedly crosses her path, every desire she has been smothering roars to life. When Garvey offers her a lucrative business proposition handling technology that will revolutionize the industry—and change the world—like a moth driven to flame, she can’t resist.

One year as president of Riding Irish, and Garvey is struggling to balance the burdens of the motorcycle club, his personal life, and his security firm. Weighed down with responsibilities he is convinced he can’t manage, he is near the breaking point. But Arden’s reappearance is a perfect distraction. And his second chance with the only woman he ever loved.

When Garvey teaches Arden to turn the pain he gives her into the pleasure she craves, dark desires are awakened. Limits are tested. And the line between play and love starts to blur. Just as they discover how far they’re willing to go, a heart-breaking deception is revealed that threatens to extinguish their rekindled passion.

Warning: Take a sadist with a talent for edge play, add in a masochist who craves his masterful touch, mix in a belt, some ropes, and a set of special knives and this is one second chance love story that will have you aching to get marked.

 

Copyright © SARA BROOKES, 2015
All Rights Reserved, Loose Id Publishing

The rumble of a motorcycle ruined the quiet atmosphere. Stupid tourists couldn’t appreciate the easy, laid-back rhythm and flow of the island. The roar of the engine grew louder as it drew closer, the noise echoing off the hotel’s covered driveway.

Annoyed, she frowned as the biker appeared around the corner and pulled up to the far end of the circular drive, his back to her. She had to admit, the bike was a beauty. Sleek chrome, leather, and glittering blue accents.

The engine died, plunging the area in silence once again. The rider swung his leg, encased in denim, over the seat and stood. His height was impressive. Menacing even. The leather vest didn’t help matters.

A large off-white patch took up most of the back. An arm and fist ran vertically in the center of the circle. The forearm was decorated with the intricate patterns that comprised Celtic knotwork. Lettering had also been embroidered around the circle, a vivid kelly green that stood out in the sea of off-white.

Riding Irish.

Huh. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

The last thing she would have thought was a motorcycle club in Oahu. While the population was substantial, bordering on a million, she didn’t think the land mass was enough to merit such a club. But she guessed all that was necessary to have one was a few people organizing together.

Either way, her interest was piqued. She looked closer, especially when he bent to stow his helmet. The denim stretching across his ass certainly gave her an image.

Tattoos. Motorcycle. Leather.

A bad boy who liked things very, very wicked. He wouldn’t know a suit if it jumped off the rack and smacked him on that delectable-looking ass.

As the rider removed his helmet, she caught more flashes of ink on his forearm. One bit of the artwork was identical to the large patch on the vest. Suddenly something clicked. She knew that tattoo. She’d stared at it for a week when she hadn’t been ogling bright purple running shorts.

Shiiiiit. Didn’t expect that.

The expensive attire Garvey had worn for their meetings hadn’t alluded to the fact he was the very same man walking toward her. He certainly hadn’t ridden a motorcycle all those years ago. And those ropes of muscles had been free of ink as well.

Though she didn’t think it possible, he kept surprising her.

“Well, if the saint didn’t just present himself as a sinner.”

He leaned closer and brushed a kiss against her ear before he whispered, “You have no idea how much of a sinner I truly am.”

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Freeing the Beast by Tina Donahue #Giveaway #Erotic #SamhainPub @tinadonahue

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FREEING THE BEAST

(Book One – Taming the Beast series)

Erotic Paranormal

by Tina Donahue

Please support my Thunderclap campaign: http://thndr.it/1z2lkHH

Buy Links:

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Available for pre-order February 8 – click here

Ready to read March 10

________

Blurb:

No more Mr. Nice Guy

Magic is Becca Salt’s business, but it ain’t happening in her bedroom. The half-witch proprietress of From Crud to Stud performs miracle makeovers for paranormal creatures. Once she’s done with them, they’re out the door hunting for hot babes, not hanging around for a too-curvy, plain Jane like her.

Her newest client is hot, hung, mouthwatering perfection. What could she possibly improve upon?

Eric Diletto. Descendant of Cupid, bred for courtship, courtesy, and all that other gentlemanly junk. What has it gotten him? Dumped time and again for bad boys. He needs Becca’s help for an entirely different reason—regression therapy to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. Becca aches for a man who loves her as she is, not because he’s under the influence. But Eric isn’t as impaired as she thinks. And he intends to take Becca here, there, and everywhere—anything to convince her his desire isn’t just the potions talking.

Product Warnings

A witchdoctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy!

Excerpt:

He gaped at the claw marks on the walls, the padded table with extensions for arms and legs with leather restraints dangling from both areas. In other words, the props for an executioner’s wet dream.

Eric circled the table. “You’re going to strap me to this?”

Becca closed the door and locked it. She heard Constance and Heather move closer immediately, their shoes tapping the floor. “It’s for your protection…and mine. It’s in the contract.” She held it up to remind him. “Page fifty-two, right above where you initialed it.”

He seemed sorry he had. “How much of my beast are you going to pull out?”

“Only a little,” she promised. “If there’s any at all.”

“There is.” He appeared offended that she kept questioning it. “There has to be. I’m a guy, all right?”

Becca wasn’t about to argue with him. He’d worn a navy tee and battered jeans that didn’t hide one muscle on his gorgeous body. She sagged against the door, needing it for support. Even his feet were luscious, nice and big, his toes long, coming right to the edges of his leather sandals.

Given that this was a weekday, he must have taken off from work because he didn’t know what to expect.

Join the club. She murmured, “What do you do?”

He stopped fingering the wrist restraints. “Do?”

“At your job.”

“Oh. I’m a financial analyst. I make sure my extended family’s investments are sound. Were you thinking of investing?”

Before he whipped out his business card, Becca shook her head. “How aggressive do financial analysts get?”

“In their recommendations?”

“While they’re at work. Once I’ve pulled out some of your inner beast…that is, if there is any to pull—”

“Haven’t I already said there is? Don’t you worry. I don’t have to be a pussycat at work.” He hooked his thumbs into his front pockets. “Let’s get started.”

A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. The rest of those sun-kissed waves were mussed as though he’d just rolled off a woman and out of bed. He was rumpled and all male. Hotter than sin. With just a smidgen of his inner beast liberated, he’d be irresistible to every female on planet earth and beyond.

Damn him.

“Becca?”

On watery legs, she forced herself to the sink to mix her mom’s potions. “Take off your clothes.”

“What? Why?”

An image flashed in her mind of him tugging the stretchy boxers up his thighs, but only after she’d gotten a good look at his stuff. She wanted to see it again. Was that so damn bad? “Sorry, didn’t know you were modest.”

“I’m not. But I am curious.”

Becca put the bottle of cloves and apple seeds next to the Bordeaux, stalling for a good lie. At last, she had it. “I need to see the potion’s effect on every part of your body.” She turned. “All right?”

He stared at his groin. “By every part do you mean…”

“Nope. Just your skin.” She hoped.

He sighed in obvious relief and ditched his clothes, tossing them on one of the institutional chairs. Naked, unashamed and exceedingly well hung, he faced her.

The world stopped.

Slabs of firm, hard muscle draped his frame, all golden skin with no trace of a tan line. He swam or sunbathed in the nude and was more gorgeous than any Greek god Becca had read about in her literature classes.

“What now?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“What happens now?”

Not what Becca wanted, that was for sure. “Turn around.”

He frowned. “Why?”

So she’d quit seeing herself on her knees, his glorious shaft in her palms. She’d sniff it first, then his balls, finally his thick thatch of hair, needing to drown in his scent. He’d smell of the outdoors and something masculine. She’d moan. He’d smile, then push to his toes as she licked his wiry curls and tasted his crown, lapping it as she would a scoop of decadent fudge ice cream, savoring the bead of moisture glistening on the small slit. His pre-come. Already excited, he’d go over the moon with her slavish attention, his rod growing longer and harder and…

Becca stifled a needy whimper and continued to lie, “So you don’t see the secret ingredients I’m using.”

“Would I even recognize them?”

“You might.”

“Then they’re normal.”

“Define normal.”

________

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About Tina:

(You know you want to know!):

I’m an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, Booktrope, and Kensington. Yay! Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised my work, and trust me, I’m forever grateful for that. I’ve had my books reach finals in the EPIC competition, one title was named Book of the Year at a review site, and others have won awards in RWA-sponsored contests. I’m actually featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Talk about feeling like a freaking star. Before my writing career, I was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company. Outside of being an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, I’ve flown a single-engine plane (scary stuff), rewired an old house using an electricity for dummies book, and have been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally whenever I’m eating anything Mexican or Italian. Yeah, I like to eat (burp).

You can check me out here – yes, I am everywhere!

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Email: tina@tinadonahue.com
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Teasers!!

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Excerpt: When Lightning Strikes by Beth D. Carter #TimeTravel @EvernightPub @BethDCarter

 

Hello! Thank you so much for having me on your site today! When Lightning Strikes has been one of my favorite stories I’ve ever written (so far!). It’s a time travel where the heroine comes forward to our time from 1794. I did a lot of research for this story, as well as paying tribute to some of my own ancestors.

The heroine’s name is Henrietta Lydia Knapp and Knapp is a family name with a long history. My sixth great-grandmother, Lydia Knapp, had a prestigious family tree, linked back to Katherine Cromwell, the Tudor line, and Charles VI (the Mad King of France), whose own lineage was deeply engraved on England and France’s bloody history. Lydia Knapp’s grandfather came to Massachusetts in the 1600’s, making him one of the first people to settle the untamed new world. Genealogy is truly amazing and humbling at the same time.

It was so interesting researching certain facts from Colonial America. One of the most interesting was The Flowing Hair dollar mentioned in When Lightning Strikes. It was designed by Robert Scot and on January 24, 2013, a specimen striking from the 1794 production sold for $10,016,875, the highest price ever paid for a coin. Wouldn’t that be a true pleasure to find in the attic!

 

BLURB:

Micah John drifts through life relying on his ability to count cards in the seedy underbelly of whenlightningstrikes1sLas Vegas. One bad turn has him owing a hundred thousand to an unscrupulous loan shark, with only a week to come up with the cash. He doesn’t have time for much of anything, except working and worrying.

He sure the hell doesn’t have time for a woman claiming to be from 1794.

Henrietta Knapp is trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she’s out of her time. A bolt of lightning has brought her more than two hundred twenty years forward. Why? She doesn’t know. Not until Micah John appears.

As mistrust and fear drain away, Micah John and Etta find a love that outshines the bad and the ugly. But will they be given the chance to hold onto a happy ever after, or will the lightning strike again?

 

EXCERPT: (rated PG)

He stopped in front of a popular clothing store. Mannequins modeled cute little outfits and Micah John looked expectantly at her.
“What do you think?”
She looked from him to the window and back again. “What do I think about what?”
“The clothes.” He liked the Capri pants and thought they would nicely show off her cute ass. Of course, he would never tell her that.
Her mouth dropped open a little. “You said my brain couldn’t wrap about the facts of technology, but truthfully I can’t understand how women can wear so little.”
He laughed. “This is nothing. You should go to The French Riviera where you can to go topless on some of the beaches.”
“You’re lying,” she accused.
Micah John shook his head and held up his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Oh, my,” she said and looked back at the clothes being modeled. “Robert Burton wrote in his book The Anatomy of Melancholy, ‘When they are at Rome, they do there as they see done, puritans with puritans, papists with papists’.”
“Right,” he said. “We’ve shorted it to when in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
“I suppose that is a more succinct way of saying it.”
She looked around at all the women passing by. Shorts, miniskirts and tank tops, all exposing more skin that she’d probably ever seen. He almost felt sorry for her. “I’ve come out in public in just my dress, sans petticoats. I suppose I can acclimate to being a Twenty-first century woman.”
“Atta girl.”
He pulled her into the store.

BUY LINKS:
Evernight Publishing

 
ABOUT BETH:

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web: https://twitter.com/BethDCarter
https://www.facebook.com/bethdcarterauthor
http://www.tsu.co/BethDCarterAuthor
http://www.bethdcarter.com
http://bethdcarter.blogspot.com/
Amazon author page:
http://www.amazon.com/BethD.Carter/e/B00EOTD1T0/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1385417145&sr=8-1