#BookFeature ~ Dirty Irish by Sara Brookes #SinnersSaintsSeries #BDSM #Suspense @Sara_Brookes @LoveUnleashed

 

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Dirty Irish
Book 5: Sinners and Saints Series
by Sara Brookes
BDSM, Romantic Suspense, Erotic, Contemporary
Publisher: Loose Id
ISBN # 978-1-68252-288-2
Length: Novel

He refuses to be owned. She won’t settle for anything less…

Natalie has done everything she can to forget the man who gave her the most erotic power exchanges of her life. He wasn’t her first lover, but he was the first to submit to her. McKinley wasn’t a docile submissive. Whenever she pushed him to the edge, he became commanding and domineering. Perfect. She was prepared to give him her heart, but he abandoned her when she needed him the most.

McKinley swore he would never give up control again. But his reclusive existence has eroded his soul so much, there is nothing left but his need for the only woman he ever loved. Back on familiar soil for a St. Patrick’s Day ride with his Riding Irish brothers, McKinley seeks to repair the one relationship he is convinced will cure him of his relentless cravings. This time their reckless games won’t break him.

In the secret dungeon at the clubhouse, memories of their wild past rouse sinfully dirty thoughts. Then one fateful moment leaves two rival clubs in an all-out war where Natalie and McKinley are in the crosshairs. They could end up losing everything—including each other.

Purchase Links:

Loose Id

Amazon US

Amazon Canada

Amazon UK

Kobo

B&N (Nook)

Loose Id Series Page … Grab the first 4 books ON SALE!

Sinners & Saints Series Amazon Page

series

Reading Order:
Book 1: Riding Irish
Book 2: Branded Irish
Book 3: Craving Irish
Book 4: Twisted Irish
Book 5: Dirty Irish

 

Excerpt:
Natalie tried her best not to stare. She also did her best not to slap the man standing in front of her. The one who deserved every form of inventive punishment she could conjure.

Thousands of things she wanted to say danced on her tongue. Instead of unleashing them, she bit each one back, smiled, and sidestepped him without a word. The burn of those unspoken words made her eyes water.

McKinley had once been hers. Utterly and completely. She buried those memories as well as she set the tray on the table along with the assortment of other finger foods she’d transported from the hotel.

This was her vacation. Yeah, it was only to the other side of the island, but to her it was another world. A few days away from the hustle and bustle of Waikiki tourism. As hard as she’d been working, she desperately needed the break. And then he’d strutted in. Thrown her world into chaos with that slight, almost smile that made her knees shake and her heart lurch.

When she finally worked up the courage to turn around, she saw McKinley stroking the ring of condensation puddling around the bottom of his glass as he stood next to Isla. The movement drew her attention to his hands. His fingers. She’d adored those hands once. Strong enough to hold her in place over his straining erection for however long she’d ordered. Yet patient enough to build her up to the gentlest, most fulfilling orgasm while she denied him.

McKinley’s confident stance filled the space around him. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but he possessed a unique kind of beauty rarely seen with a solid frame better suited for a man twice his size. He also had a rare knack for making his presence known, yet ensuring he was still approachable. She knew what it felt like to have those ropes of hard flesh yield to her command. He’d been an enticing display of a man on his knees. Desperation shining through those gorgeous, multicolored blue eyes. All that aggressive manliness restrained for her, and her alone.

“Natalie.” Her name uttered with buttery softness brought to life every dark fantasy she’d quelled. His voice. God, that decadent voice. Filled with velvet tones that made him sound like he was balls-deep in a woman. Though it was even and level, she noted the hints of strain. He stayed a good ten feet away from her, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his cargo pants.

When had he crossed the room?

Though she saw no sign of nerves, she knew him well enough—intimately enough—to tell he was slightly off kilter finding her at the clubhouse.

“McKinley.” She kept her tone crisp despite her shortened breath and the crazy things taking shape in her body. He’d walked away from what they’d had just as things had started to get interesting. No phone call. No text. Nothing but a silent “fuck you” she still felt the sting of even after all this time.

She wanted him to clasp his hands. Go to his knees. Request permission to speak. But if what she suspected was true, none of the Riding Irish membership knew of McKinley’s preference to submit. Damn it. She was supposed to be done with everything their short, tumultuous relationship represented. Especially when she’d learned after the fact that he’d been on Oahu last year for the annual ride and hadn’t contacted her.

The desire to know what he’d been up to overrode her judgment. She’d regret it in a few days. But she hadn’t lived her life avoiding things she felt badly about later. Too many brushes with death had already taught her time was fleeting. “How have you been?”

“Well enough.”

Which was a hell of a lot better than she could claim. She bit her tongue. Again. “Same here.” She didn’t offer more because she didn’t owe him a damn thing. Five minutes ago, she’d been ready to enjoy a few days off for the St. Patrick’s Day festivities the club had planned. But that had all changed when her past reached out and grabbed her by the throat.

He tapped the rim of his tattered baseball hat, shifting the dark hair brushing his shoulders as he flashed her a half smile. She masked her gut reaction to reach forward and brush away the strands that feathered across his brow. Everything about this powerful man was pure, sweet temptation.

“Can we go talk in private?” He dropped his gaze away from hers. Not quick enough for her to miss the frown. It had cost him to ask.

Silence stretched out. She’d wait him out as long as necessary. Hell, she’d waited around this long. Waited for Danny to pull his dick out of his ass and smarten up about serving his time.

Natalie Conklin was the queen of patience.

McKinley cleared his throat. “I really would like to speak with you alone.”

There. The slightest strain edged his words. “No.”

His head shot up, an instant flare of anger and confusion flashing through his eyes. McKinley wasn’t a man who handled rejection well. She’d toyed with that particular character trait plenty. Especially when she’d realized how much he disliked being told he wasn’t going to get his way.

“Please, Natalie.” His voice lowered, showing the shards of need stabbing at him.

Fuck you, Grant McKinley. She clamped her mouth shut. Dug her nails into her palms. Used the pain to focus her resolve. She would hold firm. She had to because she knew this man had the power to break her.

“You don’t want to talk. You want me to take away reason and logic. Make you feel something again. Just like last time.” She had no responsibility to him. “You want me to strip you of accountability. To take away your ability to choose. To hate-fuck you.” His eyes flashed with heat. Yeah, there’s the truth, you bastard. “But that was your mistake when you chose your male ego over me.”

“You have that low of an opinion about me?”

“Considering the last thing I saw was your bare ass as you walked out on me two years ago—yeah, I’d say that’s exactly what my opinion is.”

He stepped into her so she was forced to angle her face up to look at him. The peppery scent of his aftershave played havoc on her thoughts. On her resolve to stand firm. Emotions permeated the stagnant air, acrid and brittle like spent gunpowder. He was guarded. More than she’d ever seen before. Yet he was also exposed. “I can’t change what I did that day, Natalie. But that doesn’t mean I’m like other men.”

No, you’re certainly not. McKinley was a former Marine who handled explosives during his time in service. As a civilian, he’d rushed into burning buildings. He rode a motorcycle. Liked rough sex. McKinley was a man who wasn’t afraid of danger. And she gravitated right to him.

“I’m not a naive woman. Not like I used to be. Flash that charming smile. Flutter those baby blues. Insist you need to talk to me all day long. It worked once. Got you what you wanted. It won’t happen again.” Her quick descent, guided by his more than capable charms, had already dragged her down once.

He scowled, drawing his eyebrows together. “I know. I don’t deserve—“

“That’s right, you don’t. Good luck during the poker run.” She breezed through the doorway and out into the Hawaiian sunshine. She had her keys in her hand before she made it to the parking lot.

Her plan had been to party it up in the days preceding the ride, then wait at the club with all the other families while the riders made the required stops for the run on Friday. To celebrate their return in traditional Irish fashion. But she couldn’t. Not knowing McKinley was back on the island.

For months, she’d imagined how they’d react when they saw each other. In her mind’s eye, everything had been proper and respectable. He’d kiss her cheek, then go to one knee. Perhaps both. Cross his arms behind his back while he apologized. Profess his undying love for her.

What a load of fuckery.

Copyright © Sara Brookes

 

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About Sara:
Sara Brookes has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this geekiness, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story.

Sara is a PAN-level member of RWA and the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal & the Virginia Romance Writers chapters of RWA.

Find Sara:
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#NewRelease ~ Riding Irish by @Sara_Brookes #BDSM #LooseId #AdultExcerpt

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BDSM & Fetish, Contemporary, Erotic Romance ISBN# 978-1-62300-154-4

Blurb:
Mayhem is a way of life for Avery. The last thing she needs is a complication like Kane. The medal-winning swimmer who comes to her rescue is the ultimate golden boy. Everything this woman from the wrong side of the tracks shouldn’t want and everything she can’t stop thinking about. But emotion—and vulnerability—are liabilities she can’t afford.

Kane can’t understand why he experiences such dark, forbidden and kinky desires when he is around Avery. But her touch sparks a hunger deep inside him, and unleashes an erotic discovery where pain becomes pleasure. Their uninhibited passion reveals Kane’s dominant nature.

As Avery submits to Kane, exploring boundaries and pushing limits, she discovers a life she never expected. The unlikely pair forge a bond so tight, their unyielding trust gives way to a love like no other. But Avery’s brothers—members of Oahu’s most notorious motorcycle club—have other plans. Now Avery is forced to make a decision where her loyalty resides—with her family or with a lover who brings peace to the chaos surrounding her.

Warning: Ignition point hits hard and fast for this Dom and sub as an Irishman discovers his delightful talent for breath control, spankings and clothespins. You may just want laundry day to come more often.

Buy Links:

Loose id: http://www.loose-id.com/riding-irish.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KR1N6FI
All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ridingirish-1532504-147.html
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/riding-irish

 

Adult Excerpt:

Everything about Avery was a complete contradiction to the type of woman Kane usually found himself spending time with. His girlfriends had always been calm and reserved. Wore frilly dresses and spiky heels. Spent hours doing whatever females did to their hair. They’d neatly hang up those dresses before sliding into bed with him.

They fucked as restrained as they lived. Hell, they didn’t even fuck. The word was probably too vulgar and harsh. Avery fucked with wild abandon, giving as much as she took. She was unapologetic and loud. Jesus, the sound of her voice when she’d come each time he’d shoved her over the edge last night had nearly undone him.

And he hadn’t even been inside her yet. What the hell was his state of mind going to be like when he finally buried himself in all that hot sweetness he’d only gotten a taste of?

She made him want to tear off her clothes, baring her to his gaze so he could stare at those glorious tits while he slammed inside her. Over and over. Losing himself in the sheer madness of their fucking.

Closing his eyes, relaxing as the hammock swayed in the gentle breeze, he let his mind wander. He imagined arriving at her house after a long day, seeing her emerge from the surf at sunset, the glowing rays of the sun glinting gold through her red tresses as she walked straight for him. He’d tell her she needed to be nude by the time she arrived at his feet, her mouth wet and hot as she dropped her knees to accept his straining cock. Order her to bring him right to brink, but never climax, just so he could bend her over the back of that tattered couch of hers and fill her cunt. Drive them both fast and furious, commanding her to come so he could feel the tight fist of her heat squeeze around him.

“Now that is a fantasy I better be a part of.”

Holy shit.

His eyes popped open, found Avery standing a few feet away, leaning against the board she’d speared into the sand. A smile turned up one corner of her mouth. For a brief second, he feared he’d repeated the previous night and started trying to manhandle himself. Looking down, he found his hands were clutched around the rope, his knuckles white with tension.

“So?”

“Yeah.” He licked his dry lips, wondering what the hell had brought on such thoughts. He didn’t normally think that way. So…feral and raw. “You were.”

“Gonna share?” Panic iced some of the heat curling through his gut. No way could he tell her what he’d been thinking—wishing. Needing. Wanting. Talk about deviant behavior.

Instead he grinned, releasing the weathered hemp rope to reach for her hand. “You are a bad influence on my self-control.”

“Bad influence is a matter of perception. I think I’m a pretty good influence on helping you express hidden desires. Embracing what gets you off makes getting off all the more enjoyable.”

She got him off. In more ways than one.

“Thought you were gonna go ride the waves for a few hours?”

“I was. Then I thought better of it because I decided I wanted to ride you instead.”

 

Author Bio:
Sara Brookes is an award-winning author who has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story. Born and bred in Virginia, Sara still lives there with her husband and daughter. The entire family is owned by two cats, Galahad and Loki, who graciously allow the family to cater to their every desire.

Author Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sara_Brookes
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brookesofbooks
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/authorsarabrookes
New Release Announcement List: http://eepurl.com/mbG31

 

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