Title: How The Warrior Claimed (Falling Warriors Series, Book 2)
Author: Nicole René
Genre: Dark Historical Romance

Release Date: October 8, 2017
Cover Designer: Marisa Shor, Cover Me Darling
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

HE was the chief’s cousin…
Namoriee knew the only way to protect herself against the blond-haired gentle giant was to stay away. The way her heart pounded and her insides fluttered when he was near could only lead to disaster.
Two years ago he made a promise to her that she never thought he intended to keep.
She was wrong.
SHE was the handmaiden…
Tyronian wanted Namoriee even when he knew he couldn’t have her. The need to possess her was so deep, it took every ounce of mental and physical strength he had to keep the promise he made to her that stormy night.
He promised he would wait until she was older.
He promised her two years.
But now… time’s up.
Namoriee wants nothing to do with him but he has no plans on stopping until she’s in his bed, and he’s in her heart.
She will be his. Forever.
Whether she likes it or not.

“Tyronian w-w-what are you doing here?”

Tyronian almost smiled at the stutter, a sure sign that she was unnerved, if it wasn’t the fact that she was about to get ready to sleep here—alone—instead of with him in their hut.

“Funny,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I was just going to ask you the same. Care to enlighten me?” He looked down at her when he came to a stop in front of her. Namoriee licked her lips nervously, an action that made his cock twitch to life.

The things he could make her do with those lips…

“I-I was j-just…” Her breath faltered out of her when he pulled her closer to him. His nose nuzzling the top of her head and breathing in the scent of her.

“You were just…what?” he prompted, enjoying how his proximity affected her.

“Aggod is sick so I j-j-just thought that I’d—”

“You just thought that you would avoid me by hiding out here, instead of coming to bed with your husband?”

Her silence told him that he was right.

“You can’t escape me, Namoriee. No matter how hard you try. If you run, I’ll catch you. If you hide, I’ll find you.” His hands traveled down the length of her, relishing in the tremble he felt at his touch.

She gave the slightest moan at the sensation, so quiet, he wouldn’t have heard it if he didn’t have his lips against her throat. Her skin tasted salty, and sweet.

It was addicting.

He gripped her hips, pulling her close enough that she could feel the bulge in his pants. His body’s natural response to her presence.

“Yo

u’ll find that the man I was with you before is gone. He would have let you try and avoid him, and not done anything about it. He was a man who wanted someone bad enough that he was willing to wait for her to grow up…that man is dead.”

“D-d-dead?” Her voice was positively breathy. He nipped the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Dead.”

“What man am I looking at now, then?” Shivering when his tongue apologized for the nip against her caramel flesh. He pulled back and smiled—but it wasn’t a smile.

It was primitive, possessive, and completely venereal.

“One that has been starving for two winters, which is a lot of time to figure out exactly what he’ll do once he has the woman he’s wanted. And believe me, she’ll get just as much pleasure out of the experience as he will.”

Nicole René is a San Diego native living with her grumpy kitty, Sebastian and her crazy cute Boxer, Walter.
When she’s not busy creating sexy alpha males, you can most likely find her with her nose stuck in a book reading OTHER sexy alpha males, kicking back with her friends and family, at the movies, or further fueling her “The Little Mermaid” and “The Lord of the Rings” obsession.
She is a certified klutz, often tripping over invisible objects, dropping things like they were hot, and playing ping-pong with the walls. She has lots of tattoos, loves to eat sushi—but hates eating cooked fish, hates going to the beach (even though she’s surrounded by them), and is still waiting for her Hogwarts letter to come in the mail.

How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors Series, Book 1)

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Touched by Mara White

 

 

 

 

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Does your sister let you touch her, Gemini?
-Barely, but, yes, more than anyone else. I remember even in preschool when the teacher would grab her hand, she’d stare at the spot where their skin connected as if it were an affront to her existence. Just stand there and glare like she wanted to hurt someone.
-Junipera suffers from a rare phobia.
-Please, what does June not suffer from?
-When did she start chasing storms?
-In third grade she started obsessing about the rain. Full blown? I’d say after hurricane Katrina she never looked back. And she didn’t just chase them, June became those wild storms.

Junipera and Gemini Jones, Irish twins born during the month of June, survive a childhood of neglect and poverty by looking out for one another. Destined for a group home, the girls are rescued by a rich aunt and uncle who move them from Northern Minnesota to Fairfield, Connecticut. One sister thrives while the other spins out of control. A violent assault leaves Gemini searching for clues, but what she finds might be questions that are better left unanswered.
Praise for Touched


“Fresh, raw, relevant. TOUCHED slips under your skin with lush prose, unforgettable characters, and a story like no other.”
        -Leylah Attar, New York Times best-selling author


“Hauntingly beautiful and downright emotional, White grabs you by the soul in her latest novel, Touched, and leaves an indelible mark.”
-K. Bromberg, New York Times best-selling author

“Mara White has crafted characters so real and complex, they live and bleed. Watching their story unfold was heartbreaking, beautiful, and riveting. Touched is stunning work.”
    -Nikki Sloane, Best-selling author of the Blindfold Club Series

“Touched is a truly beautiful book. It’s raw, real, and possessing of a quiet poetry.”
        -Emma Scott, Best-Selling author of the Full Tilt Duet

“I can confidently say, without a shred of doubt, that this story and these people will stay with me for the rest of my life. I bow down, Mara White. You wrote a category 5 masterpiece.”
-BB Easton, Bestselling Author

“A phenomenal, mesmerizing and unforgettable masterpiece!
This story blew me away! I cannot put into words how beautiful this story was! Absolutely astonishing! A must read!”
    -The Book Queen

“The writing is voracious and hungry and insatiable. Touched is a story that will devour you as you stuff your face with it. I’m not only touched, I’m digested. Just read it.”
    -Suanne Laqueur, Best-Selling author of the Fish Tales Series

 

 

Alaric

Alaric was used to being tossed off, so it didn’t surprise him or especially hurt his feelings when his grandfather passed him on to another group home. Three months had been enough for the old coot. Buyer’s remorse. Maybe driving him to school every day put him over the edge. He took the high road and took in the kid, but then soon realized it was a crazy idea. Too much of a responsibility. Besides, he hated people, let alone a grandson. Alaric was needy and Thorn didn’t do needy.
He did miss the room he’d quickly become attached to. He missed choices for breakfast and the hum of the loud refrigerator. He even kind of missed how his grandfather grunted instead of speaking full words, how he’d catch him studying his face like he was trying to decipher a code. Alaric knew he looked like his father, that the fact both pleased and aggravated his grandfather. A second chance the man didn’t ask for and obviously didn’t want.
Alaric realized he was slipping in his game. He shouldn’t have feelings for a bed or a ceiling after only a few weeks of staying in the same place. The trick was, he’d let himself think it was permanent and allowed himself to believe his home wasn’t going anywhere. Turned out he was half right—his home wasn’t going anywhere, but apparently, he was. Alaric reminded himself that nothing was permanent, change was the only guaranteed constant in life.
The other thing he missed were his nightly summer visits with Gem and June. Even though they pretended not to know each other at school, in the few months he’d been there, June and Gem had snuck over almost every night to watch the television in the garage. They shared snacks and laughs, secrets and intimate moments of fun. Although he’d never hung out with girls before, he’d imagined it would be boring, tedious and maybe even petty. How wrong he was, because Gem and June were electric, their curiosity was infectious, their fearlessness—almost troubling. He was, admittedly, a little bit scared of them. Especially June, whom he’d seen eat a bug, let a spider crawl down her turtleneck, poke a dead cat with a stick and turn it over so they could see the maggots, try a sip of beer from a can someone discarded on the curb, ride Freddy Bullet’s dirt bike down the dirt hill at full speed with her legs held out to the sides, hold her head under water in a bucket of freezing water, touch tongues with a teenager from the middle school who dared her to, drive her mother’s car to the other side of the street for alternate side parking. Phew! He would never challenge June to something he wasn’t readily willing to do. Because June would do it and leave him crying in the dust.
***
Junipera and Gemini turned ten and eleven in June. Alaric was ten in August. Midway through the year, Albert Thorn felt guilty about abandoning his grandson and came back to get him. Alaric was most excited about seeing his neighbors, Gem and June. He felt closer to them than he did his only living relative. Their reunion was spectacular. They smiled so hard their cheeks hurt, eyes dancing with the possibility of another summer spread out before them.
Life wasn’t easy, but they lived it fully and sometimes secretly. Fun was a reality they trusted much more than adults or rules or the surreal transformation that was growing up. If something appeared fun, it carried with it a truth that spoke directly to their hearts. A joke. A puddle to be splashed, a doorbell to be rung and ditched, sidewalk chalk to spell out pastel curse words, the pink heart dotting the I on the word shit, slides to slide upside down and two by two or three if they could fit, wrestling matches to reenact the ones they’d seen on TV—June could do full body slams until purple bruises appeared on her hip bones—they’d gossip and whisper stories from warm lips to ears, candy, costumes, screaming, running, laughing until tears or until June wet her pants. The magic of summer and having friends to share it with; they didn’t take it lightly and reveled in its bewitching yet innocent power.
Alaric would make videos that starred June and Gem. They didn’t reenact stories, he just documented their interactions, the two girls giggling and telling inside jokes, yelling at the television to egg on their favorite characters, fighting over seats or sticks or candy—Alaric found everything they did to be fascinating. He liked to zoom in close on both of their faces, record the flashes of expression and subtle eye movements that informed their unique communication. Once he filmed June outside dancing in the rain. He and Gem stayed in the shelter of the garage overhang while Junipera soaked her white nightgown all the way through. She threw her arms to the sides and spun in circles, tipped her head back and opened her mouth. Thunder crashed around them like the crack of a cosmic whip; purple lightning split through the dark sky making them both jump and cower. June was oblivious.
“Junipera, come back in. It’s dangerous and you’ll get sick,” Gem screamed at her sister.
Alaric panned to her face, which was twisted up in concern, then back out to June, who was laughing openly at the sky in some kind of trance-like rapture. Her feet were covered in mud up to her ankles, her nightgown soaked transparent and advertising her blue underwear. Gem could even see her navel. Greenish lightning zapped through the rapacious clouds and moments later, another clash of thunder shattered their ears. Gem and Alaric bumped shoulders as fear moved them involuntarily. The lightning lit her up in intervals like the glitz of a macabre disco. The vibration of the storm rumbled low in their bellies and when the thunder struck it shook the earth beneath them.
“June, I’m serious. Get back in here!” Gem screamed. Alaric filmed her face, concentrating on her brown eyes filled with panic. “What if she gets hit?” Gem asked him, her palms turned upward in defeat.
“Well, then she’d stop dancing for sure and you and I could go save her.”

 

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Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

 

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Exes with Benefits by Nicole Williams

 

 

 

 

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***He wants a second chance. I want a divorce. To get what I want, I’ll have to give him what he does.***

From New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Nicole Williams:

The only benefit I want from my ex is a divorce.

We got married for all the wrong reasons. The one thing we got right was our separation. I should have known better than to think I could bet on forever with a guy like Canaan Ford. Everything about him screamed impermanent, from his wild eyes to his restless soul.

When I left him and the small town I’d spent my whole life in, I swore I’d never go back. Never only turned out to be five years. Canaan claims he’s changed, but he hasn’t—same knowing smile, same rough demeanor, same body crafted from sin and sinew. And yet, something is different. He thinks this is his chance for redemption. My disagreement comes in the form of divorce papers dropped in his lap. He refuses to sign them. Unless . . .

He wants a month to prove himself to me—that’s his offer. One month to make me fall in love with him again and if I don’t, he’ll sign the papers. As much as I want to say no, I agree. I can suffer my ex for a short amount of time if that’s what it takes to be free of him once and for all. I fell for him once; I won’t make that same mistake twice.

He says we’re not over. I say we were over before we got started. Only one of us can be right, and I can’t let it be him.

 

“One month. That’s nothing in the scope of a person’s life.” He slid a bit closer.
“One month is everything when it comes to opening myself back up to you.”
He didn’t argue that. He let silence speak for him instead.
“What exactly are you expecting during this one month?” I might have winced when I heard myself say those words.
He rubbed his mouth, trying to hide whatever was trying to form. “For you to give me another chance. For you to be my wife.”
The term made me nauseated. “Your wife? As in your indentured servant? No way.”
It was a smile he was trying to hide. Not very successfully. It made me thankful I’d slipped into these old boots so I could give him a solid kick in the ass if necessary.
“Like be willing to spend time with me. That’s it. That’s all,” he added when he correctly interpreted the question in my eyes. The question.
“What will we be doing during that time we’re spending together?” I pulled at the chest of my dress when I noticed the way his gaze had lingered there a moment too long.
His shoulder rose. “Got any ideas?” There was an unmistakable glint in his eyes.
“No,” I answered instantly.
“You used to have plenty of ideas for filling the time.” He took a swig of his Coke.
“And then I learned how to use my brain.”
He studied my fake smile, almost like he was contemplating what it would feel like against his mouth. “Dinners. Dates. Simple stuff like that.”
I held my best poker face, considering his offer. I didn’t want to stay married to him. If one more month was what it took to be free of Canaan Ford, I could suck it up. I’d already made it five years. “No expectations of anything of a physical nature?”
“If I remember right”—his eyes narrowed as he rubbed the back of his head—“it was generally you who instigated all of that back then.”
I shoved his chest. Bad idea. Solid. Firm. Home.
My jaw ground as I worked to erase that word from my conscious where he was concerned. “And you were just the perfect gentleman.”
Canaan snatched my hand before I could pull it away. Holding onto it, he dragged me closer. Not so close that our bodies touched, but close enough the separation was painful.
“Exactly,” he said in that low voice of his. The one he’d whispered my name in so many times as he moved inside me. “A gentleman gives his woman exactly what she needs. As many times as she need it. Just doing my part.”
“How noble.”
“That’s right. So if you want to make any changes to this one month agreement, consider me your humble servant.” When his hand dropped to my waist, his touch hesitant at the same time it was insistent, I didn’t flinch out of instinct the way I should have.
Instead, I had to remind myself to pull away from him; to flinch at his touch. “I have a boyfriend, Canaan.” Even to my ears, it sounded like a weak protest.
His hand didn’t fall away when I stepped back. “You’re a married woman, Maggie.”
“My husband forfeited his rights years ago.” My eyes found his, expecting them to shoot away once mine made contact.
They didn’t. His gold eyes held to mine. “He’s here to reclaim them.”

 

 

 

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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

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Crazy B!tch by Jamie Begley

 

 

 

My mother used to have a saying for everything.
“You can’t be pretty and lucky.”

 

She wasn’t pretty or lucky.
“You have to kiss a lot of toads before you find your Prince Charming.”

 

I kissed too many of those. Sorry, but Prince Charming isn’t in Hicktown, Kentucky.
“The good ones go to Heaven; the bad ones go to Hell.”

 

Guess I’m going to Hell.
“Hell is paved with good intentions.”

 

Surprisingly, that one is true. Why? Because …
I intended to stay away from Calder Riggs.

 

I intended not to fall in love with him.

 

I intended to find a man who wasn’t a loser or a joker.

 

Oh well, I’ve never been afraid of Hell, anyway.

 

That’s why I’m Crazy Bitch!  

 

“That wasn’t polite,” he mumbled as they continued up the stairs.

“I didn’t like the way you were looking at Jewel.”

“I don’t look the way you look at Shade, Knox, or Rider.”

Crazy Bitch didn’t say anything until they reached their room.

“I didn’t like the way you looked at Jewel, so I said something. If you don’t like the way I look at other men, say something. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

Tossing his bag onto the bed, he angrily stalked to where she was standing by the door. “I don’t like it.”

“Then I won’t do it anymore. Satisfied?”

He placed his hands on the door, caging her in. “When I’m with you, I’m never satisfied. I always want more. I’m not even satisfied when I’m done fucking you. I’m not satisfied when you come on my tongue and don’t beg me for more. I’m not satisfied that, if I walked away from you, you wouldn’t give a flying fuck. You know what would satisfy me? You quit playing around with me like you’re expecting me to fuck up and give you an excuse to stop seeing me.”

 

“You are going to fuck up—that’s what men do!”

“Woman, you act like you’re made out of armor. The problem is, it may be protecting you, but it’s keeping me away.” He traced the line of her stubborn jaw with his thumb. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me. I’m so crazy about you that I’m jealous over every man you look at.”

“I don’t want you jealous.”

“What do you want?”

Her eyes shifted sideways. “I want you to say you like me.”

Calder was stunned at her simple request. She wanted what no one had given her before. His heart ached that the only thing she wanted didn’t cost a dime, yet to her, it was as valuable as gold.

“Anna-Kate, I like you a lot. In fact, I like you so much I’m falling in love with you.”

“You are?” The woman whom he had considered to be hard as stone gave him an uncertain smile.

“A hundred percent.”

“You can’t go any higher than a hundred percent.”

 

“No, you can’t. I guess that settles it then. I’m definitely in love with you.”

She gave a smile so radiant he had to blink to make sure he was seeing it. It was like a flower that had unfurled in the sunlight, trying to catch the first rays of the morning. There was also wariness, but a gradual openness that let him catch sight of the gentle soul she kept guarded within her. As if one careless step would trample the budding love she was feeling for him.

He embraced her so gently he heard her breath hitch in her throat.

“Do you know how long I’ve been in love with you?” she asked.

“How long?” he asked huskily.

“When I looked over the edge on Black Mountain and you pulled me back. I’ve never had anyone do that for me.”

He frowned. “What, keep you from falling off a mountain?”

“Usually, people want to throw me off them, not hold me back.”

 

“That’s what makes me different. I would have gone over the cliff with you before I would have ever let you fall.”

 

 

 


“I was born in a small town in Kentucky. My family began poor, but worked their way to owning a restaurant. My mother was one of the best cooks I have ever known, and she instilled in all her children the value of hard work, and education.

Taking after my mother, I’ve always loved to cook, and became pretty good if I do say so myself. I love to experiment and my unfortunate family has suffered through many. They now have learned to steer clear of those dishes. I absolutely love the holidays and my family puts up with my zany decorations.

For now, my days are spent writing, writing, and writing. I have two children who both graduated this year from college. My daughter does my book covers, and my son just tries not to blush when someone asks him about my books.

Currently I am writing five series of books- The Last Riders, The VIP Room, Predators MC, Biker Bitches, and The Dark Souls.

All my books are written for one purpose- the enjoyment others find in them, and the expectations of my fans that inspire me to give it my best.”

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The Real Thing by Melissa Foster

This sassy, spirited baker is fine with heat—

but is her fake fiancé too hot to handle?

THE REAL THING

Sugar Lake #1

Melissa Foster

Releasing Sept 5, 2017

Montlake

 

Bakery

owner Willow Dalton’s friendship with Zane Walker has always been a bit

complicated. Now a scrumptiously hot A-list actor, Zane’s always had a

reputation as player. He’s arrogant, and he’s definitely not boyfriend

material. Sure, he did Willow a favor by agreeing to take her virginity before

college, but is that reason enough to go along with a fake engagement a decade

later—even if it comes with a real diamond ring?

 

Zane should

have known better. Nothing involving Willow has ever been easy. Still, he knows

her better than anyone, and becoming America’s hottest new leading man means

cleaning up his reputation. An “engagement” to curvy, sass-mouthed Willow is

the perfect PR move . . . provided no one gets hurt.

 

Now Zane

and Willow’s little white lie has turned into an irresistible recipe for sweet

temptation. And soon no one will be able to tell the difference between their

fake engagement or the real thing—including them.

**THE REAL

THING is being published by Montlake (an Amazon imprint) and won’t be available

on other ebook retailers, but you can download a FREE ereader app to read

it HERE, order the paperback.

 

PRE-ORDER THE NEXT SUGAR LAKE ROMANCE

ONLY FOR YOU

Releasing December 5th, 2017

 

Melissa Foster is a New

York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes

sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance and new adult romance with

emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last

page. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family

oriented–perfect beach reads for contemporary romance lovers who enjoy reading

about wealthy heroes and smart, sassy heroines.

 

 

 

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Combust by Drew Elyse

 

 

 

 

 

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

Man whore.
Ex-con.
All-around asshole.

Daz is called a lot of seedy things.

But his brothers know there’s more to him

even if it is buried deep beneath the surface.



A Disciple will fight like a savage and never give up.



As a stripper, Avery is no stranger to judgment.

That doesn’t stop her from assuming Daz is nothing more than a hot body, though.

But when tragedy lets her see behind the cocky-jackass exterior,

there’s no denying the truth.


For this biker to go down, there has to be more than sparks—he needs full combustion.

 

Daz

The bastard sun woke me at what had to be not long after dawn.
Seeing as it had to be after two before I’d finished fucking Avery for the final time—on her hands and knees since her body couldn’t keep up with her greedy fucking pussy—the early wakeup call could fuck right off.
I wanted to move to shut the blinds, but Avery was sprawled partly on my chest. I wasn’t averse to keeping a woman in bed with me overnight. Some guys who were looking to get tied down might not have let that shit fly, but I found the benefit of a warm, welcoming woman in the morning was worth the risk she might not know the score.
Right then, though, my dick wasn’t stirring. It was too fucking early, and Avery had worn him out. That alone was a novel experience. Never, not once, had a woman satisfied me so completely. Avery was just a fucking natural.
Even her perky, bared tits pressed against me didn’t get me past a half chub. My dick was too sated to rise to the occasion.
I couldn’t say whether that was fucking fantastic or scared the shit out of me.
While I was trying to puzzle that shit out, Avery groaned and brought a hand up to shield her eyes. Cracking one lid, she glared at the window with a ferocity that shouldn’t have been sexy. That half stock I’d been rocking started to perk up.
Apparently, he wasn’t fully worn out after all.
“You and your dick distracted me last night before I remembered to close the blinds,” she grumbled.
Grabbing her hand, which made her shut her eyes as I stole her shield, I brought it down to press against said dick. “Could distract you again.”
“Too early,” she denied, but she didn’t move her hand away either. My cock cozied up into her touch and I bit back a groan.
“He disagrees.”
“Your cock gets its own vote?”
“He, sugar,” I corrected. “Show him some respect.”
That lost me her hand on my dick and gained me a slap in the gut.
“Close the blinds and I’ll show him some respect later.”
“How come I have to get my ass up to shut the blinds when you were the one who bought a house with east-facing windows in the bedroom?” I grumbled even as I did just that.  “Bad fuckin’ call, babe.”
“I didn’t realize that was east. I viewed the house in the middle of the afternoon,” she argued. “Besides, I bought this place based on the kitchen. The bedroom just had to be here.”
Pulling the drapes—blackout ones, good but unsurprising with the hours I knew she worked—and darkening the room to give us both some relief, I told her, “That’s some jacked logic. The bedroom’s where all the best shit happens.”
She peeked her eyes open again, keeping them that way when she’d verified I’d blocked out the damn light. “You’ve eaten my cupcakes.”
Fuck me, but she was right. She created some serious magic in that kitchen.
“Fair point,” I conceded, collapsing back onto the bed.
I rolled toward her, pulling her body into mine and maneuvering my leg so it was bent between hers, the warmth of her pussy against my thigh.
“Too fuckin’ early. Back to sleep.”
Avery’s body was stiff for a minute, but I stayed put and quiet. She took a bit, but she let whatever was fixing to crawl up her ass go, settled in, and we both fell asleep again.

 

 

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

 

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Taboo & Kinky (Penthouse Pleasures)

Title: Taboo & Kinky (Penthouse Pleasures)
Author: Opal Carew, Jayne Rylon, Avery Aster
Genre:
Erotic Romance
Release Date: August 22, 2017
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

One luxury building holds six penthouse apartments owned by kinky Manhattanites. Their sizzling stories will be told throughout the Penthouse Pleasures series from New York Times bestselling authors Opal Carew, Jayne Rylon, and Avery Aster.

From trailer trash to elite New York City lawyer, Casey Clark has transformed her life. There’s only one change she regrets. The one that left her blazing her trail alone.

Her tough ex-boyfriend Jace West has made a career of protecting people in bad situations, just like he always did for her. When Casey finds something in her new penthouse apartment that could put her in danger, he’s the first one to volunteer to keep her body safe—even if it puts their hearts at risk again.

Jace counts on his partner Ian to chaperone his alone time with Casey. Instead, it seems the guy balances out Jace’s rough edges with a suave sophistication Casey always craved. The combination has the potential to fill the void in her life that money, power, and ambition can’t…if she’s bold enough to take what she wants from each of them.

Venturing into taboo territory, Casey could become the woman Jace has always needed. The kind who’s enough for not just one super sexy man, but two of them.



She’s an innocent young woman from his past whom he swears to protect. But the forbidden attraction between them threatens to override all reason.

Bonus: This story includes a short erotic audio that will melt your panties!
~~~
Kent never dreamed he’d be picking up Christina from the police station in the middle of the night. He hasn’t seen her since she was sixteen, but she was sweet and innocent.

When he gets there, he’s shocked to see that she’s a full grown woman… and very sexy. And she’s been arrested for soliciting. When she throws herself into his arms and calls him Daddy, then begs him to pretend he’s her stepfather, he plays along.

But the echo of that whispered word in his ear… Daddy… sets his blood on fire. He’d love nothing more than to take a firm hand with her… in the bedroom. But that can never happen.
~~~
KINKY is the second book of the Penthouse Pleasures series. This is a sizzling story of a young woman and the sexy older man who captures her heart. Their story is wrought with emotion and conflict as they struggle through the difficult journey to happiness despite past pain and a taboo romance that should never happen.

Warning: The hero is a sexy father figure who gets turned on when his “baby girl” calls him Daddy. And there’s a sexy neighbor who might just join in the fun. (Translation: Ménage a trois!)

 

Kinky

Kent stepped out of the shower and dried off then tossed the towel over the hook. He opened the door and as soon as he stepped into his bedroom, he saw Christina standing at the top of the stairs.
Her eyes widened, then her gaze fell right to where it shouldn’t be.
“Christina, what the hell?”
His heart pounded as he grabbed the throw from his bed and draped it around his waist.
“I’m sorry.” Her face blossomed a deep rose. “I didn’t realize the stairway led right into your bedroom.”
“All right. But why did you come up here?”
“I…” Her gaze had moved from his now covered cock—which was rising to attention despite the awkwardness of the situation—and drifted up his bare chest and settled on his face.
“I wanted to talk,” she said.
She drew in deep breaths, which made him all too aware of her firm, round breasts under the thin cotton of her pullover pajama top, and wrung her hands together. He wasn’t sure if it was anxiety, embarrassment, or both.
Concern swelled through him.
“What is it? Is there something wrong?”
“No… well, yes.”
Protective instincts bubbled through him. What was so important that she would come looking for him in the middle of the night?
“All right. Come in and we’ll talk.”
He walked to the couch and sat down and she walked further into the room.
He was surprised when she sat down beside him instead of in one of the armchairs. His groin tightened even more.
Fuck, he’d just taken a cold shower to calm down his body from his lascivious thoughts about her. Now with her so close, the sight of her in her pajamas—which were modest enough, but her nipples peaked to points under the light, cotton fabric of the top—made him want to jump under a stream of frigid water again.
He should send her right back down those stairs. But if she needed to talk, he couldn’t turn her away.
“I think we should talk about what happened earlier,” she said hesitantly. “When I told you that you were the only man I trust.”
Fuck.
“Nothing happened earlier.”
“That’s not true. We had a moment.” Her green gaze caught on his. “We almost kissed.”
She rested her hand on his arm and the softness of her skin on his made him all too aware of his nakedness. Of the intimacy of the situation. Of how easy it would be to take her into his arms and…
He lurched to his feet, holding the blanket securely at his waist and paced.
“I think you should go back to your room.”
She stood up and walked toward him, determination in her emerald green eyes.
“I’m attracted to you.” She rested her hand on his cheek and sparks flared across his skin. “Are you going to tell me you don’t feel the same for me?”
His jaw clenched. “I’m old enough to be your father.”
“I’ve never had a father in my life. I don’t know what that’s like. But with you, I’ve always felt safe and cared for. I’ve always felt protected.”
She stepped closer and rested her hand flat on his chest, right over his heart, which started to pound faster. She pushed herself on her tiptoes and her lips brushed his ear.
“And I like the feeling.”
Fuck, his cock was aching with her so close.
She nuzzled his neck, the light flutter of her lips on his skin sent his pulse racing.
She cupped his face and found his mouth.
Time stood still as the overwhelming sensations of her body against his, the delicate feel of her tongue nudging between his lips, made his body harden.
His barriers crumbled and his arms glided around her. He pulled her tight, his mouth opening and he drove his tongue deep into her, tasting her sweetness.
She sucked in a breath, then wrapped her arms tight around his neck as he plundered her mouth.
His heart pounded as his cock swelled and he backed her up to the bed. Seconds later, she was on her back beneath him, her breasts crushed against his naked chest. His hand glided along her ribs, then he cupped one soft mound.
At the feel of it in his hand, her nipple hard and thrusting upward, heat surged through him. She arched her lower body, pressing against his aching shaft.
He tore his mouth from hers.
“Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”
The age thing was bad enough, but she was a virgin, for fuck’s sake.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and filled with need.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
He pushed away and surged to his feet.
“Christina, I want to protect you… not take your virginity.”
She stood up and grasped his hand, her small fingers curling around his.
“Please. You’re the only one I trust enough to do this with. You can help me past my fear of being with a man. I know you’ll be tender and loving—and won’t judge me or try to force me into anything more.” She gazed up at him. “And that’s what I need right now.”
She moved closer and rested her hand on his chest.
“I think you want to protect me like a father would.” She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his ear. “But you’re not my father. So you can do anything you want with me.”
She took his hand and pressed it to her breast again. The softness of it unraveled his resolve.
She leaned close to his ear again.
“Daddy,” she murmured.
“Ah, fuck.”
Her hand slid to his waist and the coverlet fell to the floor. His cock sprang upward and she wrapped her hand around it. As her feminine fingers curled around his hard shaft, he sucked in a breath, his blood boiling.
“I think you like me calling you Daddy.” She kissed his ear then nibbled his lobe, sending tingles racing along his spine.
Like was too mild a word. It was electrifying.
She squeezed his fingers around her breast as she ran her hand the length of his cock. When she began to stroke him, he knew he had to stop her. His groin tightened painfully and he was getting too fucking close too fucking fast.
He grabbed her wrist, intent on pulling it away, but she nipped his ear, then arched her breast tighter into his hand.
“Oh, Daddy. I love you touching me like this.”
Fuck, he’d never been this wildly turned on in his life.
His grip loosened and she stroked him faster.
Without thinking, he walked her backward until she was against the wall. She released his cock long enough to pull her loose-fitting pajama top over her head, revealing her generous, round breasts. His breath caught at the sight of them.
He claimed her lips, pressing his body tight to hers, excited by the feel of her soft, naked breasts crushed against his chest. As he claimed her with his passionate kiss, she squeezed his cock and stroked it. Moving faster and faster.
He groaned into her mouth. She pulled away and gazed up at him.
“Oh, Daddy, I want you so badly,” she whispered breathily.
“Ah, fuck!” The raging ache in his groin spiked, then incredible heat burst through him. He groaned as pleasure surged through every part of him, and he erupted in a fountain of hot come.
He was shocked at how much it turned him on when she called him Daddy.
He’d just come and he was still hard, for God’s sake.
He realized he was leaning against her, so he drew back, still panting.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, then lay down on it. She pushed down her pajama bottoms, exposing her sweet, naked pussy.
God help him.
“Please. Make love to me now. I want you to be my first.”
He ran his fingers over the glistening white goo on her stomach. Smearing it over her creamy skin.
Instead of answering, he glided to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He widened her legs and stared at her intimate folds.
“You’re beautiful, baby girl. Do you like me calling you that?”
“Oh, yes, Daddy.” Her voice quivered with need.
He chuckled as he ran his fingertips over her, feeling the slickness of her arousal. “You’re so wet for me.”
He opened her folds and stared at her opening, so soft and inviting.
“You want me to push my big cock into your innocent little pussy?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips, her eyes wide and full of desire. “Please.”
He chuckled. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he’d soon be driving his cock into her untried passage. Because he’d gone past the point of saying no. She wanted this. And he certainly fucking wanted it.
He stroked over her folds again, eliciting a soft moan. Then, watching her, he pressed his finger inside her. Gliding in past the first knuckle, then to the second. He pushed another finger inside, delighting at the tight grip of her around him. Her eyes glazed and the look of need on her face made him ache to drive inside her right now.
But instead, he leaned forward and covered her pussy with his mouth.
“Ohhh,” she moaned.
He lapped at her folds until he found the little button inside. Then he teased it with the tip of his tongue.
Her fingers glided through his hair and she pulled him tighter to her wet flesh.
“That feels so good,” she murmured, a note of desperation coloring her voice.
“You like that, baby girl?” he asked.
“Mmm. Yes,” she breathed.
He sucked on her clit and she gasped, then arched against him.
He began moving his fingers inside her. Surging in and out as he suckled her sensitive button.
She pivoted her hips up and down, as if riding his mouth and hand. He kept pulsing into her. His tongue quivered over her clit.
“Oh, God…” She gasped. “Oh, it feels so…”
Then she moaned, her body shuddering as the orgasm claimed her. He kept his fingers moving inside her, his tongue teasing, his gaze turned up to watch her beautiful face glowing with bliss.
When she finally collapsed against the bed, he slowly drew his fingers from her tight canal and gave her one final lick, then lifted his head, smiling.
She looked so wonderfully sated, he wondered if he should stop here. But she opened her arms to him.
He prowled over her, then captured her lips. She drove her tongue inside his mouth and stroked with vigor.
“Please, now, fill me with your big cock.”
He stared into her wide green eyes. “Baby girl, are you really sure this is what you want?”
“Oh, yes.” She pulled him closer and nuzzled his temple. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me now.”
Goddamn. He couldn’t refuse her. Because he wanted this so fucking badly, too.

Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, SCUBA dive, and–of course–read. http://jaynerylon.com

Opal Carew is the author of over a dozen romance stories in which she makes offerings of hope, success, and love to her readers. Opal loves crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passions as a writer. Opal lives with her husband and two teen-aged sons in Ontario, Canada http://www.opalcarew.com

Avery Aster: A graduate of New York University and a resident of the Big Apple for twenty years, New York Times bestselling author Avery Aster writes popular fiction in several genres. Erotic Romance fans enjoy Avery’s The Manhattanites books, while New Adult readers can’t get enough of the Undergrad Years. For those who like a good thrill that’ll mess with their mind, check out Avery’s Psychological Suspense series, Piper Adler and other books at www.AveryAster.com