The British Bad Boys Are Coming—Pre-Order Now! #99c #99p #preorder #badboys #romance #british #giveaway @CW1985



Indulge yourself with this boxed set of stories written by bestselling and award-winning British romance authors. No one knows British bad boys better than they do!

Come and spend time with a dirty-talking London tattoo artist, a Scottish bad boy, a British gangster who won’t take no for an answer, and MORE! These men are all hotter than hell and have accents to die for. Whatever your desire, you’ll find it within these pages.

Packed full of brand new standalone, steamy stories with no cliff-hangers. With happily-ever-afters guaranteed, you won’t want to miss out on this limited collection, available for a short time only!

Special pre-order price of only $0.99. What are you waiting for?

britishbadboysFeaturing stories from Marissa Farrar, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and K D Grace.



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Release Blitz ~ Sexy Just Got Kinky: Kinks to Make you Think by The Brit Babes (@8britbabes) (@CW1985)



Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage, there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your fancies and heat up cold nights.

Featuring stories by Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse, Marissa Farrar, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee and Tabitha Rayne.

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Excerpt from The Anonymous Life by Marissa Farrar

It started with a photograph.

A single, crazy, adrenaline-filled moment of madness.

I’d had enough of being ignored, of being the maid, the chef, the chauffeur to my unappreciative family. I dreamed of the days when men used to drop to their knees before me in the streets. They’d beg to buy me drinks, just to get me to spend a little time in their company, and, if they were lucky, snatch a kiss and take me home to their bed. Now, I was invisible. A mother, a wife, a housekeeper. I longed to be seen as something sexual again, and so I took the photo.

I made sure not to include my face. I didn’t want to be identified. Instead, I held the camera on my phone with one hand and cupped my breasts with the other, squeezing them together so the tops lifted and rounded in globes. My nipples peeped between my fingers, crinkled and hard. The lighting wasn’t perfect, and I had no idea what filters to use, but that didn’t matter.

I posted it online.

It was on one of the popular social media sites, known more for its raunchy posts than some of the others. I’d used the site to watch porno GIFs often enough, but I’d never had the guts to comment or post something of my own.

Until now.

I gave myself an online name—theanonymouslife. All one word.

It was only a single picture, but already my emotions surged up inside me, making me feel alive—a mixture of excitement and guilt, and horniness.

Already, I was addicted.

I stayed on the computer, checking for comments and reblogs. People liked my tits, it seemed. More than my husband, who hadn’t laid a finger on me in forever. There were a couple of negative notes, but I brushed over them in favour of the positive ones. Damn trolls were everywhere.

I don’t know why I got such a thrill from posting my picture online, or why I’d even felt the need to do it at all. Maybe there was anger in me, a resentfulness I couldn’t shift, and posting the photo felt a little bit like revenge. Or rebellion. I resented my husband for plunging me into a life of celibacy that I’d never asked for. I’d always been a sexual person, and still was, but now sex was denied to me. My children stole my body away, though they never asked to do that, and I would never hold them responsible. I love my kids. They are the one thing that keeps me walking the straight and narrow when all I want to do is run, screaming, throwing off my clothes and frustrations as I do so. I dream of a future alone, where I can pick and choose men as I please, allow them in my life for a short while, only to continue alone once more. Sometimes now, I feel like I barely have enough time to have a thought to myself without being interrupted. I can feel the years slipping away, knowing I’ll never get them back. I’m only in my early thirties—too young to be this dried up person already—and the thought of the rest of my life as a sexless woman terrifies me. I love my husband, I do, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in me anymore. He’s always too tired from a long day at work. I don’t know if he has no interest in sex in general or if it’s just me that no longer excites him. I can’t say I blame him. After seeing the births of two babies, I’m not sure I’d excite me either. But I can’t bring myself to break up our home, can’t stand the thought of the hurt in our children’s eyes if we separated. Plus, he’s a good guy. I like his company, most of the time. We’re just missing that important element.

So, instead of dealing with the real problem at hand, I took the photograph.

It was harmless. I wasn’t hurting anyone. But quickly I discovered one picture was not enough.


About The Brit Babes:

So who are the Brit Babes? We are eight UK based authors who spend our days writing steamy tales of love and lust. Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind, we aim to please in every literary fantasy department. Our heroes are strong, determined and soul-achingly divine and our heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure are the name of the game, romance and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink.

With a whole host of awards, bestsellers and accolades between us, we just know you’ll find something to keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Visit the Brit Babes’ home on the web which acts as a library for the hundreds of books published by us and hosts special guests every Monday. You’ll find links there to our FREE anthology too. Tell your friends, spread the word, because one thing you can be sure of, is when the Brit Babes arrive, sexy has arrived!







Out Now – Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires @8britbabes #erotica #romance #bdsm #billionaire


sexyjustgotrich**Available at an introductory price of just $0.99/99p for a limited time!**

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Containing stories from Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse, Natalie Dae, Harlem Dae, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee and Tabitha Rayne.

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Heart pounding and palms clammy, Catriona forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and walked into the bookshop. It was bedlam. She’d never seen a bookshop so busy in her life.

She paused just inside the door. What the fuck was she doing? If someone saw her, recognised her—

She shook her head sharply and clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into her flesh, the nipping pain bringing her back to her senses.

No one would recognise her, she reminded herself, because no one knew who she was. Well, people knew who she was—but not in relation to the reason she was here.

Taking a deep breath and attempting to behave like a normal person, she continued through the shop, trying to figure out where she needed to be. Not that she even needed to be here at all. It was insanity that had drawn her out of her Thames-side apartment and into the bowels of the Tube, and finally into the huge Piccadilly bookstore.

What else but insanity would make a person head into central London to buy a copy of a book on the same day it came out? Especially when one already had a large box of copies of said book stuffed into the bottom of one’s wardrobe. Complimentary author copies, according to the note from the publisher.

Maybe it was curiosity, she thought, as she joined the back of the queue snaking across the ground floor of the shop. Nobody nearby was holding a copy of the book yet, so she assumed that somewhere between here and the till there was a stack of the paperbacks, ready to be picked up and paid for. And presumably read. Christ.

Surreptitiously, Catriona pinched the back of her hand. Wincing, she figured she had to get her head around this situation, and fast. It was only going to get bigger and crazier—or so the publisher’s marketing team, a bunch of young, attractive and scarily glamorous people, had told her.

She’d already seen plenty of evidence of their expenditure on the way over—billboards, bus shelters, ads on the Underground; all displaying huge versions of her book cover, proclaiming it a bestseller, quoting stellar reviews and even lauding it “the next big thing” and “the next Fifty Shades of Grey.” One strap line even said “Who needs Christian Grey when you’ve got Eliza Dickinson?”

It was the fact that her book had even been compared to the first big thing that she couldn’t quite grasp.

The Fifty Shades phenomenon had spawned merchandise, sex toys and even a film. But it was just a one-off, wasn’t it? Something that couldn’t be replicated, shouldn’t be replicated.

Catriona certainly hadn’t set out to write a book to appeal to the same readership. All she’d done was take out her real life frustrations—both sexual and otherwise—on the keyboard of her laptop. The rest had simply been a freak of nature.

How could it appeal to the same readership, anyway? Her characters were the complete opposite of E.L. James’—her lead female, Eliza, was a dominatrix, and Leon her willing sub. Or he was by the end of the book, anyway.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Her book was out, today, and what happened next was completely out of her hands. She should just relax and go with the flow. Though she still couldn’t get over the fact that people were not only buying her book—they were queuing to buy it. Patiently, too, despite the glacial speed at which they were moving forward. Did they only have one till open, or something?

People had joined the line behind her as she’d been ruminating, and she shuffled around slightly so she could see how many more were waiting. Shit—there were loads! She couldn’t even see the end of the queue.

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because the man behind her let out a chuckle. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he said. “All these people waiting to buy a book when we could have purchased online—probably cheaper—and had it delivered directly to our doors. Or in a single click, have it appear on our eReaders.”

Catriona hadn’t even thought of that. So, not only were people here, in the bookstore—and presumably stores all over the country, too—they were buying online, loading up eReaders… all for her little book!


About The Brit Babes:

The Brit Babes are eight British erotica writers coming together to bring you the hottest romance to satisfy your cravings. So go on, indulge yourself and explore your kinky side!

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