GENRE: Mystery (from the author: genre – mystery– “It is a bit hard to define as it combines elements of a YA adventure and her grandmother’s cozy love story.”)
BLURB:
Rose Hawthorne: The Irish Wanders follows Rose, a celebrity author in her early seventies, who dislikes the limelight but does like Hermes scarfs, round violet sunglasses, and old colonial hotels. One day, she receives a letter asking her to visit Newgrange, Ireland and discover something that has been hidden there for a thousand years.
She asks her granddaughter Samantha to accompany her, but she hadn’t expected her to continually post photos of their progress on her Instagram account. An encounter with an old love and an unexpected discovery leads Rose deeper into the past, where she finds she must make a hard decision about her future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Dear Rose Hawthorne,
I have read and re-read your books many times and think that you might be just the person to help me. It is my belief that something valuable is hidden in the archaeological site at Newgrange, Ireland. I am not certain what it might be, but I have recently read a book that leads me to this conclusion. Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate anything, but I feel that you might be able to make an exciting discovery. At the very least, you may be able to write a new book based on what you might find sleeping in a niche in Newgrange.
I hope that this proposal interests you. I regret that you must undertake this trip at your own expense. Should you wish for additional information, please e-mail me at Rousseau@gmail.com
“Oh, come on,” she had said in an e-mail, “you’re not going to give me a clue like that and expect me to guess, are you?”
The letter writer replied that they were not giving anything away but added that Rose would not be disappointed if she came to investigate.
The writer had never revealed himself, and she had never been able to trace the letter as there had been no return address.
Rose had e-mailed a few more times, requesting more information but had received very little.
The author of the letter had asked her only to read all that she could about the site from the Neolithic and Celtic periods.
When again she asked what she should be looking for, the author suggested something about the size of her palm. He hinted that it might be the most extraordinary artifact ever discovered in Ireland.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Shannon O’Gorman is a retired ESL teacher who has recently completed her second walk on the Camino de Santiago. She is currently training her dog to accompany her on a Camino one day. She lives in California with her husband and daughter when university is not in session.
Shannon O’Gorman will be awarding a $40 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.Enter to win a $40 Amazon/BN GC – a Rafflecopter giveawaybelow:
Taboo contemporary erotic romance (Five flames) BDSM/Ménage/Multiple partners/lesbian/gay Approximately 87,000 words, 293 pages HEA ending
Blurb
During the day, Miranda Cahill works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she has sex with strangers.
Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each salacious adventure exposes new dimensions of her depravity. Her secret life explodes when she realizes her masked partner at a kink club and the charismatic colleague courting her are in fact the same man.
Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide, Miranda comes to accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart.
Reader Advisory: This novel is an erotic romance featuring a committed relationship and culminating in a wedding. Nevertheless, the main characters participate in a wide range of taboo sexual activities, both together and separately.
Excerpt (Rated R)
“Lovely,” sighed a cultured feminine voice, close to her ear. “Don’t you agree?”
Miranda whirled round, startled and embarrassed. She hadn’t realized that she had companions in her blatant voyeurism.
They were young, close to her own age, and enough alike in stature and demeanor that they could have been siblings. Both had thick brunette hair. His was brushed back from his brow, while she wore hers in a bob with blunt bangs. They were both clad in tight black jeans and tank tops that highlighted every curve and swelling of their athletic bodies. Prominent nipples capped her small breasts, clearly visible through the clinging fabric. His half-engorged organ was equally obvious.
Of course both of them wore masks. Near-identical brown eyes gleamed behind their dominoes. It was their mouths, though, that captured Miranda’s attention, their ripe perfect lips inviting, sensuous, bowed in the perpetual promise of a smile.
Miranda ached to kiss those mouths, to trace their luscious curves with the tip of her tongue. She felt the ache in her throat, in her chest, in her painfully taut nipples, in the damp, hungry recesses of her sex. Her palms yearned to glide over those smooth thighs, those flat bellies. She wanted them, both of them, craved them in a visceral way that was totally new to her.
She stifled a moan, and took the hand the woman extended.
“I’m Marla,” the other woman said, her voice melodious and a bit husky. “And this is Marcus.” The young man smiled mysteriously but said nothing. “We were admiring your costume.”
It took Miranda a moment to recall the red velvet jumpsuit that she had chosen from Lucy’s wardrobe. It was defiantly flamboyant, clinging to her body like a sensuous second skin. A gold-colored zipper ran from the scoop neck down to her navel. Matching zippers adorned her wrists and ankles. She knew that the color suited her, contrasted with the hair spilling over her shoulders like a river of jet. She also knew how obvious it was that she was naked underneath the velvet. Not a shy garment, but perhaps just right for tonight.
Choked with desire, she found it difficult to speak. “Thank you,” she managed, finally, then couldn’t resist asking, “Are you twins?”
They gave similar, musical laughs. “Not exactly,” said the one called Marcus. “But we enjoy pretending.”
On June 16th, I will randomly select one grand-prize winner who’ll get a $10 gift certificate, plus two runner-ups who can choose any ebook from my indie back list.
AboutLisabet
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Lexa Kozlov must pay off her family’s massive debt to the mob… all while raising even more money to save her little sister. The result? A never-ending (and incredibly illegal) stakeout for the Bratva. Lexa barely has time to sleep, let alone find love.
Enter Caelin Vass, the handsome Scotsman who runs Empire Investments. Caelin offers Lexa a new job with dollars galore, as well as a hot bod (his own) to contemplate every workday. Even so, Lexa isn’t sure. Freaky things keep happening whenever Lexa and Caelin are alone. The energy between them is magical, sensual, and way overwhelming.
Is Lexa leaving her old prison just to enter a worse one… or is Caelin Vass all he seems and more?
***12,000 word novella, previously published on Kindle Vella as Blood Slave***
Don’t you just love this cover…
Excerpt:
My heels click along the wooden floor as I make my way through the shadows. At last, I reach the end of the hallway. The next door is closed, but its shape is outlined by the light beyond.
That’s where my potential employer waits. Caelin Vass. My heart thuds faster.
I press my palm against the door. It swings open with barely any pressure. Stepping across the threshold, I enter a fancy version of the Lucky Ladies’ Lounge. Where Otto’s place is all torn furniture covered in questionable stains, this room holds real leather club chairs. Across from the sitting area, there’s a large wooden desk. Red velvet curtains cover the windows. Plush oriental rugs line the floor. Oil paintings of the Scottish countryside cover the walls.
On a nearby couch sits the exact man I saw last night. Turns out, my hallucinating skills are pretty accurate. Vass’ broad shoulders fill out his dark suit perfectly. Every strand of his dark hair is perfectly combed to highlight his intense stare.
Oh, those eyes.
Vass is the kind of man who looks right through you. I feel exposed, like every scintilla of my soul is laid bare on the fancy carpet. Vass also sports the perfect level of scruff on his chin, too. I’m a sucker for that. And don’t get me started on his lips. I can’t help but picture his full mouth on my breast.
Wait, WHAT? Am I really thinking about sex right now?
I straighten my skirt and wait by the door. Vass keeps staring at me. A strange kind of electricity fills the air. The room seems to collapse until there is only me and Vass. I don’t believe in hocus pocus, but if I didn’t know better? I’d think the guy is trying a mind spell on me. What did they call it in that movie I watched with Mom? Vampire glamour.
Right.
The guy is just trying to psych me out, end of story. It’s another power play, like having his secretary ask me to strip down while he can watch it all on closed circuit cameras or whatever. Total creep move. The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
And my temper takes over. Again.
I set my fist on my hip and run off my mouth. “Next time, if you want to see my lady bits, take me out to a nice dinner first. You know, like an actual man.”
The sense of power and connection instantly snaps. An odd chill fills the room. Vass watches me for a long minute. And I might be imagining things, but it seems that his lips are parted in an expression of disbelief.
I squint and get a better look. Turns out, I’m totally right. His mouth is hanging open.
Score one for Lexa.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
CEE BEE writes stories that blend epic fantasy, steamy romance, and lots of sass. If you want immersive tales that transport you to fresh worlds (and new book boyfriends) then you’ve come to the right author. To learn more about CEE BEE, please visit http://www.ceebeeauthor.com. Her new book, VIOLINS AND VAMPIRES, is available on Kindle Unlimited: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZYVCNC3
CEE BEE also writes young adult fare under the name Christina Bauer. Check out Christina’s books at http://www.christinabauerauthor.com. There’s a literal sh*t ton of them.
Hey friends! Seelie Kay stopped by to tell us about her sizzling new release “Vive La Resistance”. A must read for PNR lovers who love a dash of suspense!
Paranormal Romance, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Fantasy
Three flames, 21+
An Interview with Seelie Kay:
Q. Why do you write romance?
Since the onset of the pandemic, I have totally changed my attitude toward writing romance. While I was long enamored of the happily-ever-after because it brought me and readers joy, I have concluded that my true purpose in writing romance is to give me and my readers hope. Let’s face it, the pandemic has been traumatic—for everyone. It evolved into one of the most chaotic situations of our time, something we had never before experienced. I was grasping at anything that would give me hope and found myself turning daily to romance books and tales of finding or sustaining love. So now, I write to give people hope.
Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
That also changed during the pandemic. While I still adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge, I found myself focusing more on principled men, those willing to fight for what they believe in. And now, you will that find my heroes also have a strong sense of family. They value the support a family can provide. Of course, the definition of “family” varies and comprises more than the traditional assortment of parents, siblings, and relatives.
However, these “heroes” continue pair with strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.
Q. Why did you write “Vive la Resistance?”
At the foundation of this book is the belief that people cannot be afraid to speak out against wrongs, especially those inflicted on others, and they must be willing to fight against evil, even at the risk of death. Soldiers and peacekeepers do that every day. We live in turbulent times. It is so easy to say, “Not my problem,” and turn away. But sometimes, you don’t have that choice. You have to stand up and fight back. Donovan Trait is a vampire lawyer. In the human world, a very respected lawyer. Now he must use his skills to save the half-bloods—vampires whose blood is mixed with human or Were. What began as a Vampire Coalition vendetta against his turned wife, Judge Shirley Magnusen, who gave birth to half-blood twins in violation of her marital agreement, has extended to the elimination of all half-bloods. A campaign of genocide. However, this is not a battle that can occur with boots on the ground in the presence of humans and Weres. It must be fought in the shadows to prevent exposing the vampire world to humans. So it must be fought virtually, and soon it becomes clear that the resistance may be winning battles, but the Vampire Coalition will never concede the war. The final battle must occur in person. Sacrifices will be made, lives will be lost, and the vampire world will be shattered. But the real question is, what will emerge from the ashes? Vive la Resistance (Long Live the Resistance)!
Blurb:
Things are gonna get messy…
An illegal union, a banned birth, a Great Lie, and now, genocide. Vampire lawyer Donovan Trait and his wife, chemically-turned Judge Shirley Magnusen, are battling for their lives and the lives of their children. The Vampire Coalition wants them dead, but now the despots have also decided to expand their net, targeting any vampire whose blood is mixed with human or Were. Half-bloods are already treated like dirt by the Vampire Nation. They have been subjected to centuries of discrimination and cruelty at their hands. As the Coalition embarks on a campaign of terror, destruction, and slaughter, millions of half-bloods emerge from the shadows, ready and willing to reclaim their place in the Vampire Nation. The problem is, war cannot be unleashed out in the open in the human world. Battles must be fought in other ways. Even with an island of highly-skilled vampire nuns and a few Weres and humans at their side, it appears the Traits may be fighting an unwinnable war. Their only option may be to sacrifice their own lives in the hopes of setting all other half-bloods free.
Excerpt:
Donovan shifted on the lounger and muttered incomprehensively, then he emitted a rumbling snore.
“Hey, y’all. So yeah, vampires are real and they’re not above doing the dirty to those who share their blood. Take a look at this.” The Tik-Tokker grinned. “You are not gonna believe it. It’s so shady.”
Video of the Coalition camps rolled across the screen. Occasionally, the camera zeroed in a dirty or bruised Millennial, or a guard pushing a group of people into a building, their ankles locked together with some sort of rope. They were seen eating off of metal plates and lined up to fill a metal cup with something from a barrel. It wasn’t water. The liquid was rust-colored and thick, like blood.
“And the dudes running the place have a Marie Antoinette fetish. You know—” The woman mimicked a knife across her throat. “Off with their heads?” She giggled.
A guillotine appeared on camera. About ten people were in line, each with a black hood over their heads and their arms bound behind them. One at a time, they were pushed onto a stage and forced to their knees, their necks positioned directly under the blade. With manic efficiency, a guard released the blade. Most heads flew into a barrel in front of the platform. The ones that rolled off onto the stage were kicked to their final destination. The headless bodies were tossed onto a pile on the ground.
“Oh, grosss,” the woman complained. She leaned toward the camera. “Kind of like a bad zombie movie, isn’t it?” She sat back in her chair and made a face. “Whatever. I mean, like, are we supposed to believe that’s really happening? Isn’t that against the law or something?” She cackled. “As if.” She leisurely stretched her body, her crop top exposing a belly button ring. “I’m so shook.”
The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Now, I’m not sharing this for the views. It is kind of sus. But if this shit is real, someone needs to get off the pot and do something about it. Aren’t there any woke cops out there who can play the James Bond card? Before anymore—” She swiped her finger across her throat and giggled. Then the screen went black.
Donovan shot up in his chair and blinked. Once. Twice. He shook his head and attempted to gather himself. What the hell? Sure, he had needed the sleep, even if it was only a thirty-minute nap, but the dreams he could do without. It had been less than forty-eight hours since the worldwide kidnappings. Donovan knew preparations for rescue were underway. But he also knew Bengotten and Hannigan were capable of even greater cruelty. He could only imagine the terror and the torture the victims were being subjected to.
It was difficult to understand how the vampire world was capable of this. He had long prided himself on their natural superiority, their ability to rise up above the petty politics and unjustified violence in the human and Were worlds. Yet overnight, vampires had become the monsters, the tyrants capable of such evil. That astonished him. For the first time in his long existence, Donovan was ashamed of being a vampire. If it was possible, he might very well submit to being turned into a human or a Were. He buried his face in his hands. Yes, he could live as a human. Perhaps he could ask Dr. Alvarez to find a way to turn off his vampirism, maybe using the gene-editing Marilyn could not stop talking about.
Writing under a nom de plume, the former lawyer and journalist draws her stories from more than 30 years in the legal world. Seelie’s wicked pen has resulted in twenty-two works of fiction, including the new paranormal romance series Donovan Trait,as well the erotic romance Kinky Briefsseries and The Feisty Lawyers romantic suspense series. She also authored The Last Christmas, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, The President’s Daughter, Seizing Hope, The White House Wedding, and participated in the romance anthology Pieces of Us.
When not spinning romantic tales, Seelie ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. Currently, she resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, WI, where she enjoys opera, the Green Bay Packers, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Seelie is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!
Warrior Priest by Kate Hill Science Fiction Romance
Blurb:
What happens when a warrior priest from a strict religion meets a free-spirited priestess from a new age commune?
Jade and Selena are as different as two people can be, but to facilitate an alliance between their worlds, they engage in a cultural exchange. With their galaxy in danger from a planet that wants to conquer or destroy all others, they realize the importance of their assignment, but it is difficult for a warrior priest and a nonviolent priestess to understand each other.
Selena is both attracted and appalled by his old school masculinity, and Jade is tempted to break his vow of celibacy until marriage due to his powerful desire for her. Will this unlikely pair not only find common ground, but unconditional love?
Excerpt:
At six feet three inches with a large build, Jade often considered his cell at the
temple cramped. During his travels, he’d lived in caves, cottages, tents, and mud huts. He
had even endured a Kimbrian prison camp. Still, he wasn’t fully prepared for Selena’s
little house.
“It used to be a caravan,” she said.
They removed their boots, left them on a rubber mat, and hung their coats on
hooks near the entrance.
“Ned and Rayne helped me renovate it so that I’d have a little more space.”
“Ned?”
“Yes. Before joining the commune, he was a builder. Well, he still is. He’s been
in charge of building many of our shelters and clinics all over Neidress. He’s super
talented and smart.”
“I got that feeling.”
“He’s also great with his hands. He can build just about anything.”
“That’s a little surprising,” Jade admitted, picturing the plump, bookish priest.
“I know, right?” Selena chuckled. “It’s said that looks can be deceiving. Come on.
I’ll put some wood on the stove. It’s freezing.”
While Selena walked to a small, old-fashioned iron stove toward the center of the
house, Jade glanced around. The caravan was made for efficiency, but it had an almost
storybook charm. It fit Selena perfectly, but Jade felt too big for the house.
“It’ll heat up fast in here.” Selena stood and brushed wood chips off her clothes.
“That’s a guarantee.” Jade smiled and stepped closer to take her in his arms.
*Eileen Dreyer will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.*
GENRE: Paranormal Romance
BLURB:
He’s had enough…
Harry Wyatt, Earl of Hartley has enough problems trying to keep his estate solvent. What he does not need is yet another lost child showing up on his land looking for the Hartley Fairy Diamond made famous by a recent film. A fairy diamond that is no more than myth handed down by delusional ancestors and responsible for the perilous state of his finances. And yet there is something about this latest visitor, something beside her delicate beauty and troubling familiarity. Something that is compelling him to go against everything he believes to help her. To want her.
She’s on a quest…
Sorcha, daughter of Mab Queen of Fairies is on a quest. Dropped into a cold, alien world, it is her task to recover the great fairy stone that has been lost to the land of mortals, a stone whose absence has upended the balance of nature. If she doesn’t get the stone back, spring will not come. But there is a handsome mortal standing in her way. A mortal she is drawn to like no other man, fairy or mortal. A mortal who claims he doesn’t believe in her, but whose memories and fears say otherwise. A mortal with green fairy eyes. A mortal she could love, if only he weren’t mortal and she fairy.
Note: This title was previously published as Dark Seduction
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt Two:
Harry saw the confusion in the young woman’s eyes and huffed in frustration. It wasn’t enough that he had another of those damn movie freaks wandering his property. He had one who thought she was actually participating in the film, like a fairy version of a Renaissance Fair. Reality? What is reality? No, no, I’d prefer to live in a fantasy world like the people in the movie.
Well, damn the movie. He wasn’t putting up with it a moment more. Not even when he still couldn’t quite pull himself away from the heart-stopping kiss they’d just shared. All right, then. The kiss he’d just taken.
It hadn’t meant a thing. Surprise. Sudden human contact out on the edge of the moors. A hit on the head. God knows he’d bounced enough down that bloody hill. He’d been stunned. Nothing more. Nothing.
“Did you say it’s, what? Winter?” she asked, looking around.
Bloody hell
He sighed. “Yes. For another four months.”
She stood there, wide-eyed and silent, the rain dripping off those blond curls. Then she looked around. “This is what it looks like without spring?”
She sounded absolutely lost. How could that hurt him? He was probably coming down with pneumonia and already delirious.
“November comes every year, lass,” he said, pulling off his jacket and wrapping the shivering girl in it. “Right on schedule.”
“But spring won’t come,” she said back. “Not unless I recover the Stone.”
That brought him to a dead stop. “Don’t,” he growled, finger in her face. “There is no stone. No fairy diamond. It was a movie, damn it! And no bloody fairies! Fairies don’t exist. They never existed, damn it!”
“But of course they do,” she assured him in the most musical voice he’d ever heard as she stood there letting him drape her in his oversize coat. And then, bloody hell if she didn’t smile as if she’d just discovered gold. “Aren’t you the living proof of it, now?”
It was his eyes, green like spring grass in sunlight. Fairy eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times bestselling author and RWA Hall of Fame member Eileen Dreyer and her evil twin Kathleen Korbel have published over forty novels and novellas, and ten short stories in genres ranging from medical suspense to paranormal to romance. She is thrilled to have joined Oliver Heber Books to continue her Drake’s Rakes series about Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe, of which Ill Met by Moonlight is a near relative.
A former trauma nurse, Eileen lives in St. Louis with her husband, children and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. A seasoned conference speaker, Dreyer travels to research, and uses research as an excuse to travel. Oh, who’s she kidding? She doesn’t need an excuse. She has the Irish wanderlust and satisfies it as often as she can to the point that she has sung traditional Irish music on four continents. She also had the incredible chance to research Drake’s Rakes by attending the 200th anniversary of not only the Battle of Waterloo, but the Duchess of Richmond ball (in period attire). She has animals, but refuses to subject them to the limelight.
Lies. Betrayal. A blown undercover mission. After ten years away, DEA agent Jarrett Brandt heads home to pay his respects to his deceased brother and hide out from the cartel kingpin who wants him dead. The last thing he needs is Marissa, his high school sweetheart, tempting him with her sassy smile and showing him the life he gave up. Add on his judgmental parents, and he’s ready to hit the road. Widowed mom Marissa Reinn never had much luck with the Brandt boys. First Jarrett broke her heart, then she lost his brother—her husband—to a bullet. Vowing to uncover Jarrett’s secrets, she succumbs to the passion still burning between them instead. When a team of assassins find him, Jarrett and Marissa will have to work together to survive and protect her son. How will they seize their second chance at love with their lives on the line?
Excerpt:
He nibbled her earlobe until a sweet gasp escaped her mouth.
“Jarrett, wait. Not outside my son’s room. C’mon.” She dragged him into her bedroom and pushed him against the door. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“So are you.” He cupped her ass and dragged her up his body. Oh, hell. He’d never get enough of her. Those legs and her breasts—fuck. As she wrapped her long limbs around him, he seized her lips and pushed away from the door.
“The bed,” she mumbled the words against his mouth.
He laid her down and topped her. “Lift your arms, baby.” He jerked off her sweater and groaned. The overhead light cast a golden glow across her smooth skin and curly hair. A sexy red-and-green striped bra cradled her breasts. He licked one of her taut nipples from atop the fabric and moaned from the scent of sugar cookies.
Marissa gasped and arched her back, pressing her breasts against his face.
“You’re killing me.” He nuzzled her chest before sliding his hands to her back and freeing the bra clasp. Her breasts bounced free and grazed his chest. His cock throbbed so painfully against his zipper that he lurched forward and dry humped her.
“Like what you see?” Her mouth hitched up in a smile.
“Tease.” He glided his tongue across her other nipple.
“Yes, more.”
He stroked the curve of her soft bottom lip. She swiped her pretty pink tongue over his fingertip, trying to draw it into her warm mouth, but he pulled back and jerked off his shirt. After he stripped off his jeans and underwear, she pushed him down on the mattress and swirled her amazing tongue across his chest. Ah, fuck. His muscles bunched as she trailed her decadent kisses down his abs and upper right thigh, circumventing his needy, straining cock.
Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through Daulton Publishing, The Wild Rose Press, and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
About the Author
She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.
Anya Summers will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
GENRE: Contemporary Erotic Romance
BLURB:
Xavier Campbell needs a miracle. If he doesn’t want to lose the life he’s worked so hard to build, he must get married, and quickly. Trouble is, there is no woman in his life. Not even a friend with benefits. As a regular Dom at Eternal Eros, he gets what he needs and goes home. And a wife? Hell, no. This Highlander is single for a reason. So when his entire existence threatens to come crashing down, he realizes he might have to make some adjustments…or a bargain with the she-devil who beguiles him, body and mind, from the first moment he touches her.
Emma Morton wants a man. To play with. Watch television with. Cuddle with. And yes, God help her, she wants him hard, naked, and in her bed. More than once. What she doesn’t want is complications. Expectations. She is dedicated to her work, to building her business. She’s worked too long and too hard to change her plans for something as fleeting as love. No matter how much she wishes otherwise, life has repeatedly proven that romance is a myth. Pure fairytale.
But passion? Yes. She could definitely go for a ‘Single’s Night’ of play—and release—at the infamous Eternal Eros.
After one scorching night of pleasure, a reckless bargain is made. Marriage with an expiration date. A business arrangement. Nothing more.
But what starts as a farce becomes a bit too real and Xavier realizes this is no game. Telling Emma the truth would be dangerous…especially when he realizes he is playing for keeps.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
She was in no mood to trade barbs with the beast. Xavier narrowed his gaze. She hated that the authoritarian glare on his chiseled face made flutters erupt in her belly.
“Don’t mind him, lass, my brother has always had a stick up his bum.”
She glanced at the man sitting on the barstool beside her. Jasper Campbell was the evil bartender’s younger brother. Where Xavier was stern and broody, his brother was a charmer with a winning smile. They looked alike. Both tall, brawny men with dark hair, Scottish accents, and gorgeous bodies.
She leaned toward Jasper and asked, “Did you put it there, or is the stick self-inflicted?”
Jasper barked a laugh, his cobalt gaze twinkling with mirth. “Oh, you are a spunky one. Why haven’t we ever scened together?”
“I don’t know but be careful, one scene with me, and I’d ruin you for all other submissives,” she unabashedly teased him.
“Is that a fact?” Jasper studied her with avid interest. “Perhaps you’ll pull my marker tonight, and we’ll find out.”
“Maybe.” She flirted, liking the easygoing Scot. He was dressed in a kilt like his brother, although he wasn’t as broad through the chest. “Now, I have always wondered, anything underneath the kilt?”
Jasper cast her a lopsided smirk chock-full of innuendo. “If you want to find out, just say the word, lass. We can escape now before the event begins and I would be more than happy to show you mine—that is, if you’d show me yours.”
“Macallan, double, neat.” Her drink was thunked onto the bar.
She shot a glance at Xavier. Pasting a smile on her face, she made sure her voice dripped with derision. “Thank you, Sir.”
Xavier’s face darkened, and his full lips flattened into a thin line. If only he weren’t so damn handsome. The strong, blunt lines of his face were partially shrouded by his black beard. His thick, inky brows were currently scowling at her.
Her brain seemed to be disconnected from her mouth tonight as she asked Jasper, “Is he always this grumpy?”
Thunderclouds darkened Xavier’s expression. He appeared like he wanted to throttle her at the question. She didn’t know why she was pushing the onery bartender’s buttons. She knew she was dancing a fine line, and one wrong step would give the big brute just cause to discipline her. Except, she was having fun for a change, and didn’t want to stop needling the guy. He seemed to bring it out of her with his scowls and muttered oaths. And, truth be told, she would never be a simpering, docile submissive. Emma liked challenging them because it pruned the Doms who couldn’t handle her.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
Zeke Kendall doesn’t believe in fairies. He’s a scientist; an anthropologist who has spent the last ten years digging in the harsh deserts of the American Southwest. But things look a lot different in the soft green shadows of Ireland. There it is easier to believe that magic exists, especially when Zeke tumbles off a fairy mound and ends up in the arms of the beautiful Nuala, who seems to know everything about him. When she tells him she is a fairy, he actually wants to believe it, even as he knows better.
She can’t believe…
Nuala is daughter of Mab, Queen of Fairies. She has grown up in the twilightland of the fae, fiercely loyal and loving to her people. But she has also been in love with Zeke Kendall ever since she first saw him in her scrying water as a child. To now have him so close is both joy and torture.
For she is the heir to the great crown of the Tuatha de Danann fairy clan. She has no place in Zeke’s world. And he, a man drawn in the sharp edges of his deserts, has no place in hers. Even as passion rises and the love she’d only dreamed of blossoms into reality, Nuala knows that a future for them is impossible. And yet, she can’t find a way to send him back to his own world.
Note: This title was previously published as Dark Seduction
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“I want to know about you.” Zeke shook his head, his smile a bit tentative. “Don’t I know you?”
His hand had fallen back to his side. Nuala saw him rub at his jeans leg, as if testing himself.
“Ah, well…” she managed, briefly looking into the shadows of the glen where tiny wee beings passed their lives among the bluebells and foxglove. “That’ll take some explaining. Why don’t we walk, then?”
Zeke took a quick look around. “I guess that would be okay. I won’t get lost, will I?”
“No more than you are now.”
He flashed her another grin. “In that case, lead on.”
She frowned, still anxious after that fall of his. “You’re feelin’ all right, then? Your head isn’t bothering you? It was quite a tumble you took, you know.”
“Yes, I do know. I can feel every rock I rolled over. But my head only hurts a little now, and the dizziness is better.”
“And you’re not feeling anything else? Anything troubling?”
“Other than a massive amount of confusion?”
This time Nuala smiled. “And why should you be, now? ‘Tis all very simple. You climbed a hill to find the fairy queen, and so you did.”
His expression was wry again. “Did I tell you I don’t believe in fairies?”
“Did I not tell you that matters to no one here but you?”
He laughed, and Nuala felt her heart leap like a salmon. “As long as I know the ground rules.” He shook his head again, a lock of hair escaping its confines and sweeping his forehead. “But it’s going to take some getting used to.”
Nuala tilted her head, savoring the sparkle of his wit, his words. “What?”
“This place. This dream. It’s so real, but it’s not real at all, which makes me think I can do anything here and not pay the consequences.”
Oh, she should tell him not to believe. Not to give in to the sorcery of this place and assume that all was possible without cost. He would be gone soon, back to his family, and she would be left to lead her fractious, frivolous clan through the next millennium with a consort she hadn’t chosen but had promised herself to. Zeke would be hurt. She would be shattered, never to be put back together again.
But she couldn’t. Sure, she couldn’t say so much as a word.
Selfishly, she wanted him to fall in love with her. She wanted, with a desperation that ached in her, for him to look to her every minute, to smile when he saw her, to laugh when they made love. She wanted to be the only woman in his eyes, even for the short time they had. Since she’d loved him that way for so long.
So she smiled, her decision made, and led him farther into the land of faerie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times bestselling author and RWA Hall of Fame member Eileen Dreyer and her evil twin Kathleen Korbel have published over forty novels and novellas, and ten short stories in genres ranging from medical suspense to paranormal to romance. She is thrilled to have joined Oliver Heber Books to continue her Drake’s Rakes series about Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe, of which Ill Met by Moonlight is a near relative.
A former trauma nurse, Eileen lives in St. Louis with her husband, children and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. A seasoned conference speaker, Dreyer travels to research, and uses research as an excuse to travel. Oh, who’s she kidding? She doesn’t need an excuse. She has the Irish wanderlust and satisfies it as often as she can to the point that she has sung traditional Irish music on four continents. She also had the incredible chance to research Drake’s Rakes by attending the 200th anniversary of not only the Battle of Waterloo, but the Duchess of Richmond ball (in period attire). She has animals, but refuses to subject them to the limelight.
A fated encounter. A familiar stranger. A storm of passion. Can Ondine release her fear, surrender to Marut’s power, and claim her own?
Marine biologist Ondine Ambrose has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world.
When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.
Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents—aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. When he insists that they are both more than human, and that she is his destined mate, Ondine responds with skepticism. She tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately she cannot deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart.
Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.
“Wind is far less destructive than fossil fuels. You know that.”
The stranger cupped his tea mug in his big hands. Marut, he called himself. His handsome face wore an earnest expression, while his body was wrapped in her old terrycloth robe, the one she planned to donate to Goodwill. Meanwhile, Ondine herself wore a loose T-shirt and sweatpants that effectively hid her curves. No sense tempting fate.
She hadn’t intended to bring him here, but his clothing was soaked and, like her, he had bloody abrasions on his hands and knees from their fierce encounter on the rocks. So she’d led him over the dunes—careful not to touch him—to the weathered clapboard house she’d inherited from her grandmother. After giving him antiseptic and Band Aids, she’d left him alone in the downstairs bathroom to clean himself up and tend to his wounds. She certainly didn’t intend to play nurse to him, that was certain. She had no idea what had possessed her out on the beach, but she didn’t want to experience it again.
Not that it hadn’t felt wondrous. Indeed, every time she looked at him, she recalled the overwhelming hunger that had seized her. The memory of their frantic encounter unnerved her. The pleasure had been incredible. The loss of control, though, had been terrifying.
Ondine was no virgin, but she’d always been careful about sex. She was normally the one who chose the time and place. And after her mother’s tragic experience, she was unfailingly vigilant about contraception, all the more so because her body would tolerate neither the pill nor an IUD. As she showered off the grit, sweat and semen, she felt grateful that her interactions with Marut had not involved penetration. She didn’t normally carry condoms on a walk to the beach.
He was a stranger, possibly even an enemy. There was something unnatural about the intimacy they’d shared, so sudden and so potent. She would need to remain on her guard.
Rousing herself from her musings, she sipped her own tea and nibbled at one of her ginger snaps. “Of course. Oil, gas, coal—they’re bad news. But why not build your wind farm on dry land? You’d have a much smaller ecological impact.”
“Nobody wants a ninety meter steel tower in their backyard.”
“So you put it where there’s no one to object!”
“In many cases the winds are stronger and more reliable offshore too.”
“And that justifies the cost to wildlife?”
“Global warming’s a bigger threat to ocean life than any wind farm.” Marut’s abruptness suggested annoyance.
Smug satisfaction warmed her, though she recognized that reaction as childish. As a scientist, she was well aware that the tradeoffs and issues were complex. There was no simple answer to the problems facing humanity. Somehow, though, she couldn’t stop herself from baiting him.
“That’s a research question, I think.”
“Look.” He flashed a conciliatory smile that lit up his strong, even features. “Let’s call a truce. My company is in the preliminary stages of design, just studying feasibility and cost-effectiveness for different locations. The installation might turn out to be totally impractical.” “I certainly hope so.”
Aboutthe Author
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Yolanda.Ashton 