Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Promo Spotlight: The Laws of Seduction by Gwen Jones

Deleted Scene “A Weave of Bone and Flesh and Sentiment”
            Rex steepled his hands and smiled, the candleglow lighting his face serenely. He didn’t say anything, just let his gaze sink into me as if we communicated by some buried, transdermal cable. Perhaps he knew how I marveled in his drenched, dark eyes or the soft lines of his face, or how completely beside myself I felt right then as he looked at me, so happy. I lay my hand on the table, beckoning his to join mine.
            “This was wonderful,” I told him.
            He squeezed my fingers, regarding the weave of bone and flesh and sentiment, an odd mix of gratitude and longing flashing his face before he settled into more familiar territory.
            “I have wonderful taste,” he said smugly.
            I leaned over and kissed him, light and quick, and whispered, “And you taste wonderful, too.”
            He tossed his napkin to the table. “Let’s get out of here.”
            And just as we entered the outside, a breath before the valet turned, Rex stole me around the building and through an arbor, to a courtyard shaded by flowery trees and lit by the buttery glow from within. We slinked its perimeter until he shuttled me into a corner. There he clasped my hand and bent to me, his other hand lightly pressing the small of my back. Oddly enough, I smiled sheepishly.
            “Look at you,” he cooed. “You look just lLike a little girl with dimpled cheeks and rosy lips.”
            “My cheeks aren’t dimpled.”
            He slid his hand down the slope of my behind. “Location, location, location.”
            I grabbed his lapel. “Beast!”
            He kissed me, his lips warm, his tongue like velvet, the taste, the feel, the clean scent of him shivering me. I snaked my hand beneath his jacket and hugged him tightly, marveling how after three months without him, I found him even more knee-knockingly sexy than first time I saw him. He dragged his lips from me, resting his forehead against mine.
            “I couldn’t wait to do that,” he whispered.
            “And now that you have?”
            He smiled. “I want more. But not yet. I have someplace else to take you.”
            “Oh yeah?” I said as we strolled out of the garden and into the light of the entranceway. “Where?”
            He reached into his pocket and handed the ticket to the valet. “Dancing.”
            “Dancing? Really?” I was absolutely charmed, but more than a little confused. “You want to take me dancing?”
            Rex laughed. “My God, Charlotte – where’s your romance?”
            Hmm…my romance. Well, I’ll tell you, I don’t know where it had been, but when I looked into his eyes, I could tell you precisely where it was right then.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
About the Book
When Rex Renaud, the COO of Mercier Shipping, is arrested for a crime he didn't commit, he knows he'll need a miracle to clear his name … and sassy lawyer Charlotte Andreko is the perfect woman for the job. Charlotte has built her career defending pro bono clients against womanizers like Rex Renaud, and she'd much rather let him sweat it out in a jail cell than defend him in court. Yet Rex swears he's been set up, and when he offers her a shocking sum of money in exchange for her legal counsel, the financial security is too tempting to resist. The court dubs Rex a serious flight risk—how many people have their own jet?—and he's released on one condition: Charlotte's his new jailer, and he's stuck with her until his arraignment. But when a bomb threat sends Rex and Charlotte on the run, neither is prepared for the explosive chemistry and red-hot passion that flare between them as they hunt for the truth about his arrest. - 

About the Author
Gwen Jones is a mentor and instructor in Western Connecticut State University’s Master in Creative and Professional Writing program, and an Assistant Professor of English at Mercer County College, in West Windsor, NJ. Her work has appeared in Writer’s Digest, The Kelsey Review, and The Connecticut River Review, and she is the author of the HarperCollins Avon FRENCH KISS series, Wanted: Wife, Kiss Me, Captain, and The Laws of Seduction. A writer of women’s fiction and romance, she lives with her husband, Frank, near Trenton, New Jersey.

Visit my website – Gwen Jones Writes
Like me on Facebook - gwenjoneswrites
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Buy my books!  - See all titles

Buy Links

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Promo Spotlight with....Raven McAllan

It doesn't matter what number book this is for me, I still love every little bit of the process of getting if from my head to yours.
I don’t have any particular rituals or way of writing. In fact I can, and have been known to write almost anywhere, including on the bathroom floor of a hotel (so as not to wake Dh up), under a palm tree, almost sitting onto top of the Aga cos I'm so cold, not to mention on long haul flights to and from wherever. As my hubby said when he bought me my MacBook Air, have mac will travel. I do sometimes wonder if he regrets it, because it goes to more places with me than he does!
All that apart, I feel incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to do something I love and yes have people like the end result. Okay, people like my cooking, but it isn't pretty, you're best to eat with your eyes shut and just savor it. I want you to savor my writing as well, but at least, with all the help from editors and cover artists, it's pretty to look at so you can keep your eyes open.
I'm very lucky in that I have several 'writing hats' and swap between them as I like. So you could get a Regency Romance–erotic or not—A hot contemporary BDSM, a sweet m/m or a menage, or even in my J. Lilley hat, a YA. It's such a great feeling, and yes, an honor really, that I have the opportunity to do all that.
All that apart…
I'm growing old disgracefully and loving it.
Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.
Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.
I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I'm often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I'm not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.
Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

Plus I have a book out on 28th November, but it's available for pre order now…

Dominated by the Earl…
Leonora knew she'd wait for Justin to come home. 
She hadn't expected it to be so long or so fraught. 
When Justin joined his regiment, and was sent to the continent, Leonora promised to wait for him to return.
She didn't think it would take so long, or she'd have so many difficulties to face. Her life changes as she struggles to cope without Justin and keep his estate running. 
With someone out to destroy all she holds dear, Leonora has to fight for her beliefs and her family, and hope they get the happy ever after they deserve.
A wee tease…
“I myself,” he said in a conversational manner, “would happily take you here, and let you scream your completion to the world. However, I value my cock and my balls, and would prefer them not to become my disembodied body parts. If Arthur got wind of our doings, I fear it may well be the outcome.”
Put like that, she didn’t want them separated from Justin either. Leonora nodded, and firmed her lips. He understood, and to her delight, dropped a swift kiss to her forehead.
“Good girl, now hold on.”
Before she was able to query his statement, she felt herself lifted as he swung her into his arms. The door slammed behind them, helped, she decided, by a kick from Justin, and then they were moving at a swift pace. Leonora gave herself up to the pleasure she experienced crushed against him. Her breasts were ten- der and her skin was a mass of tingling nerve ends. As each step added to the friction between their bodies, it was as if the materials covering them both did not exist.
She wriggled, and a sharp smack to her arse made her yelp.
“Why did you do that?” Mindful of his diktat for silence she whispered the words.
“For you would try the patience of a saint, Nora, and as you surely realize, there is no likelihood of canonization in my future. Now be still or it will be more than a gentle tap that I administer.”
Now why did that stark statement have her quivering, and set up a new strange feeling inside? Dare she ask? One look at his grim face decided for her—now was not the time.
Once out of the house, he skirted the side of the building and cut across a cobbled courtyard. It seemed his destination was the stables.
 “Justin, I cannot ride like this,” she protested quietly. “I am not dressed for riding.”
The look he gave her sent further unknown sensations through her, which were more intense than she had ever made herself feel. To her secret mortification, her quim was damp and she needed to touch or be touched, and to increase the delicious ache that built there. And then...then what? Not for the first time, Nora wished she knew things. It was all well and good coming upon her maid with the stable boy and hearing the girl demand the lad put his cock into her and fuck her, and to get hot and bothered at what she saw. Who knew the bulge in a man’s pantaloons looked like that? Then to see Lucy take that...his cock—for the life of her, Nora couldn’t equate the long thick staff with its purple- red nob with the strutting cockerel that ruled the hen house—into her mouth...well. She grew warm at the thought of it. It was an- other thing not to feel somewhat apprehensive now she knew at last the experience was about to be hers. It had taken all her courage to touch Justin, and to taste him. That had her counting to ten under her breath. Once she smelled his maleness, that exquisite definable scent of musk and aroused man, Leonora knew she was hooked and needed more. More of everything.
“Some would say you are overdressed for the type of riding I have in mind for you later,” he replied as he set her on her feet. Her face must have shown her confusion, for he threw her a heavy cloak. “You’ll understand later. Here put this on whilst I saddle my horse. You will ride in front of me, even though my body is on fire for you. Sad to say, I fear until we arrive at our destination, and I warm your arse, amongst other things, my body will not be hot enough to ward off the chill in the air. I will resist temptation, hard though it may be.”
“Er?” She opened her mouth and closed it again. What could she say? He smiled and tightened the girth around his horse. Warm my arse? If that means what I think it may mean, he is clearly not right in the head.

Happy Reading
Love R x

Dominated by the Earl buy links       (author page)

Oh and I'd better add, I have a book out. Dominated by the Earl is available for preorder now


Leonora knew she'd wait for Justin to come home. 
She hadn't expected it to be so long or so fraught. 
When Justin joined his regiment, and was sent to the continent, Leonora promised to wait for him to return.
She didn't think it would take so long, or she'd have so many difficulties to face. Her life changes as she struggles to cope without Justin and keep his estate running. 
With someone out to destroy all she holds dear, Leonora has to fight for her beliefs and her family, and hope they get the happy ever after they deserve.

About Raven:

Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.


Monday, November 24, 2014

Promo: MAN LAW by Adrienne Giordano

About MAN LAW:

Security Consultant Vic Andrews lives by his Man Laws:

Never mess with your best friend's sister
Never get caught
Never get attached

But he can't deny his irresistible attraction to Gina Delgado, a young widow with three kids and plenty of strings attached. Even so, having a physical relationship doesn't mean they're "in a relationship."
Gina lost her husband to tragedy; she is not getting emotionally involved with another man in a dangerous profession. Sleeping with Vic is just stress relief.

Until one of Vic's assignments goes wrong and the target selects Gina and her kids for revenge. There's nothing Vic won't do to protect Gina and the children--the family he realizes, too late, he wants. He'll accomplish his mission but will he have lost his only chance at true love?

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery.  She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane's Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction. 

Connect with Adrienne:  Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Street Team

Chapter One

Man Law: Never mess with your best friend’s sister.

“Ah, shit.” Vic Andrews, butthead supreme, listened to the churn of the ocean’s waves. Or was it his life skittering off its axis?
Gina laughed that belly laugh of hers and he couldn’t help smiling. He extracted himself from her lush little body and rolled off. The St. Barth sand stuck to his back. Yep, they’d worked up a sweat. Salty sea air invaded his nostrils and he inhaled, letting the moisture flood his system.
Jesus Hotel Christ.
What had he been thinking? He’d been heading back to his room after closing down the resort’s bar and there she was, the girl—er, woman—of his dreams, crying on the beach. No condition for her to be in after witnessing her brother’s marriage to the love of his life.
Vic didn’t mention the fact it was 3:00 a.m. and she was alone on a secluded beach where any drunken asshole, like him, could have at her. Although technically he wasn’t drunk. Buzzed maybe. Big difference. Besides, they’d been at a wedding. Buzzed was allowed.
Gina moved and he finally turned toward her. “I’m—”
“No, absolutely not,” she said. She swiped at her curly mane of dark hair. Her face gave away nothing, but that meant squat. Gina knew how to hide bad moods.
The whoosh of the ocean lapping against the shore distracted him and he stared into the blackness.
“What did I say?” he asked.
“You were going to apologize. I don’t want to hear it.”
Apologize? Him? “I’m not sorry.” He touched her arm. “Are you?”
Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please.
That would be all he needed. He’d just freakin’ obliterated the sister rule Mike had invoked nearly a million—maybe two million—times. The sister rule was Man Law, and Man Laws were about the only rules Vic followed.
He only wanted to check on her, and before he knew it, voila, the clothes were off, the condom was on and they were humping like bunnies right there on the beach. At least no one saw them. All the well-meaning people were asleep.
Gina brushed sand from her legs and stood to straighten the sliplike dress he’d shoved up over her hips. The silky fabric glided over her curves, and the activity in Vic’s lower region made him groan. A thirty-five year-old mother of three, and she was killing him. He should be ashamed.
Screw that.
She was right there. Right there. And, because he’d probably never get the opportunity again, he should grab her and—
“I’m not sorry,” Gina said. “Not about the sex. I’m sorry about other things, but this, I loved.”
Vic retrieved his pants and stood. Gina and her honesty. Good or bad, she just put it out there and didn’t worry about the repercussions. He guessed it came from losing her husband at the age of thirty-one. She had nothing to lose.
“I need to go,” she said, watching him with her big brown eyes as the moonlight drenched her face. He put his shirt on. Did she have to look at him that way? Particularly when he wanted a replay.
“Aren’t the kids bunking with your folks?”
“They are, but you know how Matthew is. He might search for me.”
Fifteen-year-old Matt, her eldest son, took his job as man of the family seriously.
“Right. Okay.” Vic motioned toward the resort. “I’ll walk you.”
Gina held up a hand. “I’ll be fine.”
Nuh-uh. No way. “I am going to walk you. It’s late and you shouldn’t go by yourself.”
Hell, she shouldn’t have been out here alone in the first place, but he knew she’d tear him a few new ones if he said it.
She stood there, peering up at him and—God—she was fantastic. She had a classic oval face with high cheekbones and a nose he knew she hated. For over two years now he’d imagined running his finger over the little bump in it, but never dared. Every inch of her seemed perfectly imperfect.
Blown sister rule.
Gina shoved her fingers through her curls. “We screwed up. I can’t believe it. We’ve been so good.”
“We didn’t screw up. We had a simultaneous brain fart. Again.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Anyway, walk me to the edge of the beach. You can see my room from there and can watch me go up.”
“Gina, what’s the big deal? Nobody will know we just—” he waved his hand, “—you know.”
“It’ll be better if you don’t walk me. With his mental radar, Michael is probably waiting by the door. On his damned wedding night. I swear he’s a freak. He should stay out of it.”
Oh, boy. She was getting fired up. Maintenance mode. His friend needed protection. They were both ex-special ops, but they didn’t stand a chance against all five foot three of Gina.
“Mike loves you. He’s trying to protect you.”
“From you? You’re his best friend.”
Vic ran his hands over her shoulders. “Yeah, but I’m not right for you.”
“The circumstances aren’t right. That’s true, but he doesn’t have to keep reminding me.”
“He does it to me too.”
They strolled to the edge of the beach, and he squeezed her hand. Don’t go. Just stay for a while. All he wanted was more time with her. Not a lot to ask.
On tiptoes, she brushed a kiss over his lips. A little hum escaped his throat. What the hell was that?
“I had a great time,” she said. “You were just what I needed.”
“I think a ‘but’ is coming.”
“We can’t do this again.”
Yep. Not good. “I know.”
She pulled her hand from his and hauled ass toward her room. Away from him.
He waited while she went up the stairs and she stopped in front of the window of the room next to hers. A minute later the door opened and Matt came out. He turned and, apparently using his Spidey sense, looked straight at Vic.
And we’re busted.