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A Woman Knows… #MFRWAuthor #Menage #ComingSoon

Welcome to MidWeek Tease, where authors share tempting snippets to tide you over till the weekend. A huge shout out to author Angelica Dawson for hosting our blog hop every week!

Getting excited – we’re less than three weeks away! Today’s tease comes from our upcoming release, April Swings (Meghan’s Playhouse, Book 3).

EXCERPT

“There she is,” April Day whispered to her husband as they shared a late breakfast in the fourth deck restaurant of the cruise ship. “There’s that vivacious girl who does everything in the floor show.”

“You’re infatuated with her,” Derek grumbled. “You’ve been mooning over her for the past two days. Do you even know her name?”

“Meg something, I think.” April thrust out her chin. “Names don’t matter much for what I have in mind.” April inhaled, letting her gaze take in the petite auburn-haired actress. “She’s a woman’s woman. That’s what matters.”

“How do you know that? She’s having breakfast with the guy who directs the show.” Derek chuckled. “She looks like a man’s woman to me.”

Shrugging, April faced her husband. “So, I’m a man’s woman, too. Maybe she’s bi.”

“How can you be so certain?” Derek’s features remained stolid.

“A woman knows.” April sipped her orange juice.

BOOK INFO

April Swings

Meghan’s Playhouse:

Book Two

Extasy Books:

October 13, 2017

 

 

4 Flames:

Explicit Sex, MF, FF

Ménage, FFM, FMF, FMFM

 

 

BLURB

April Day deeply loves her husband, Derek, but something’s missing. To heat things up, she books them on a Caribbean cruise for their seventh anniversary. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but she knows she’s found it as soon as she spots the delectable sprite of an actress who stars in the ship’s daily shows.

Meghan Keenan’s having a blast with her latest squeeze, Clark Hendricks, who writes and directs the shipboard main shows. Should she turn down April’s request to heat up her marriage? And if she accepts, where will Clark fit in?

Derek is stunned by his wife’s brash pursuit of the hot young actress. Must he match her boldness to keep her from leaving him?

PRE-ORDER


 

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Don’t forget to stop by all the other fabulous Midweek teasers:

 

Cover Reveal: Alphas and Aggression, by A. Star #MFRWAuthor


Alphas And Aggression 
Wesley Werewolves Series Book #1
By A. Star

BLURB:
A millennium ago, an Igbo god fathered three sons–a jackal, a coyote…and a wolf.

********
As the new alpha of his wolf pack, Xavier Wesley wants nothing more than to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and make his elders, and the great guardian, proud. But his family and a rival alpha seem to have other plans for him, as does the werewolf king who informs Xavier that their kingdom is under attack by the Lion Head–a sinister, ethereal creature controlled by the one who summoned it. And he has put Xavier in charge of saving their kind.

But the Lion Head is just the agent of a darker evil, one that will do anything to escape the Lightless Realm and reclaim the lycan throne. Knowing he stands no chance of defeating them alone, Xavier seeks help from the wolves he trusts the most and Karis Mickelson, a beautiful human who has no business existing in his world. After a visit with the pack dibia points them toward the only Igbo treasure that can bind the sinister entity to Earth, they set out to claim it before it is discovered by the dangerous ancestor who desires to claim it first. But Xavier’s growing connection to Karis not only threatens to derail their mission, but upend his entire life. If he can’t manage to take control of his feelings and honor his true purpose, then the darkness just might win.

And everyone will die.

Cover Models: Zusi AirhiavbereSesoo, IgbazuaKofi, HandonMarcus Johns
Photographer:Doug Bolst of Libertine
Photography: http://www.libertinephotography.com/


About the Author: 
Diantha Jones loves writing fantasy books filled with adventure, romance, and magic. She’s the author of the Oracle of Delphi series, the Mythos series, and the Djinn Order series (as A. Star). When she isn’t writing or working, she is reading or being hypnotized by Netflix. She is a serious night-owl and while everyone else is grinning in the warmth and sunlight, she’s hoping for gloominess and rain. Yeah, she’s weird like that.


Website  |  Twitter  |  Facebook  |  Goodreads  |  Goodreads (A. Star)  |  Amazon  |  Pinterest  |  DJ’s Book Corner


 

Out Now—United in Love, a Charity Anthology Edited by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #charity #anthology #britishredcross

Blurb:

The world could use a lot more love, which is why being united in love is the theme of this short story collection. Each of the characters are dealing with horrific and heartbreaking situations—loss, grief, war, divorce, dementia, disputes over land and more, but what they all have in common is that, with the help of love, of unity, they come through. It may not be all happily-ever-after—since life just doesn’t work that way—but positivity and solidarity shine through in each of the tales and will warm your heart.

So enjoy these stories of unexpected companionship, old lovers reuniting, second chances and creative problem-solving, with the knowledge that the proceeds from your purchase will also have a deeply positive effect—with every penny going to the British Red Cross’s UK Solidarity Fund.

Featuring stories from Gina Wynn, Lily Harlem, Rebecca Chase, Rosie Jamieson, Skye MacKinnon, M H Heyer, Alyssa Drake, Arizona Tape and Lucy Felthouse.

Available from:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/unitedinlove

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2wq8dqe

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hdoqEP

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2yjSoyG

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2hbrLrN

 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36240214-united-in-love

 

Excerpt from What’s Past is Present by Gina Wynn

 

Connie always believed she’d know it was summer when the rain got warmer. And that meant summer was today.

She ran along the pavement, trying to dodge the drops as they fell in big splats on her bare arms like sloppy kisses, hunching as she attempted to shield the package of fish and chips she carried. The aroma of the hot food and warm paper tickled her nose, and she could almost taste the contents. Declan would be lucky if she arrived back with anything more than soggy, empty wrappings at this rate.

Picking up her pace as the smell of rain-splashed tarmac filled the air, she hurried the rest of the way back to the house. His house. She shook her head. It would take a while to see the house as anything but Mr Pearce’s place—an adjustment it felt like she’d only just made. Now, it was Dec’s. Just Dec’s. In her head, it’d only just stopped being his place where he lived with his dad. Glancing at the windows in hopes of glimpsing him inside as she walked past had been a habit for a very long time.

When her doorbell had rung the previous night, she hadn’t expected to find a very crumpled, travel-weary Dec in the dingy entryway to her bedsit. In fact, he was probably the last person she hoped to ever find gracing the stoop of what she not-quite-laughingly referred to as her hovel.

She’d barely had chance to move, or slam the door in his definitely unwelcome face, before he wrapped his arms around her, folding her into a perfect bear hug of long-ago familiarity. Caught off-guard and unprepared to see him, she rested her cheek against the soft brushed cotton of his shirt, listening to his heartbeat, as his fingers splayed over her cheek, and she pretended not to notice the rough gasps of air he drew or the silent tears landing in her hair. Her chest hollowed, her heart breaking both for him and over him anew, and a lone teardrop of her own slid noiselessly down her nose.

Of course, she’d promised to help him today because she could never deny him anything, even though she’d spent the past five years regretting him. Getting over him. The bastard. She’d never stopped loving him.

Five years had crept by in a lazy blink of his beautiful brown eyes. And now, in the place where she’d spent so many of her stolen days and illicit nights, she could almost imagine the clocks had rolled back and he’d never left. She’d certainly wished for it enough times.

Short of pressing the doorbell with her nose she had no way to attract his attention, so she pushed on the door handle with her elbow and shouldered her way through the unlocked door into the narrow hall. The same worn carpet, lending a musty smell to the house these days, ran straight ahead to the kitchen and up the stairs. She walked towards the kitchen, ignoring the grime of a house where the owner hadn’t cared as much for the fabric of the building over the years as he did the family members within it. Framed portraits and holiday snapshots of Dec and his dad lined the walls, but she brushed past each of them. She could describe the position and content of each—perhaps accurately pinpoint the date of a few if she appeared on Mastermind with ‘The early life of Declan Pearce’ as her specialist subject.

But as she turned to push through the door into the next room, she caught sight of some new pictures and swallowed down a mixture of envy and bitterness at the juxtaposition of Declan’s life before and after—the part where he’d moved on without her. Even after Dec left, his dad must have continued to hang pictures of him because there he was, framed with as much care as anything that gone before.

Dec in an office of black leather and gleaming chrome—a vista of New York spread like a map through the huge picture window behind him; Dec beside an aeroplane bearing his name—sunglasses on, wide grin in place, and a suit that must have been expensive but one he wore without effort and made it look good.

Dec behind a podium.

Dec in an apartment so swish she’d have believed someone had Photoshopped him into it if she didn’t know better.

Dec… Dec… Dec. Just him.

Her gaze skimmed the remainder of the newest frames, and her thoughts stalled. She leant closer. No. They weren’t photographs. They were pictures that had been cut with great care from glossy magazines and newspaper articles, as if someone was reduced to simply scrapbooking a loved one’s life rather than being part of it.

Regret flashed through her. It didn’t show the future—the life together— she and Dec had planned in all those late nights that somehow turned into seeing the dawn. If she was honest, it didn’t show any sort of life she’d ever imagined for anyone she knew, let alone someone she loved. And especially not for Dec. She’d always believed they were the same type of person. But maybe not now she could see his life through someone else’s eyes.

She shrugged, trying to throw off her sudden melancholy. The fish and chips wouldn’t eat themselves.

 

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

 
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