• Home
  • Archive by category 'Guest Bloggers'
  • Page 20

Archive for ‘Guest Bloggers’

Beverly Ovalle on Tour ~ Touched by the Sandman

Today we’re thrilled to welcome fellow Red Hot Authors Cafe member Beverly Ovalle, on tour with her latest release, Touched by the Sandman. Be sure to scroll to the bottom to enter her giveaway!

BLURB

Touched Sandman - Book CoverA lonely woman’s torrid sexual dreams and fantasy partner await her as a dominant reality in another dimension

The sandman visits those that need him, assisting them to sleep. Until one night he meets a woman that he cannot help but return to time after time.

She is lonely. He comes to her as she drifts off to sleep, the man of her dreams. Awake or asleep, which is her reality?

He knows she is the one meant for him. He will find a way to make both of their dreams come true.

BUY LINKS

Amazon KindleAmazon UKBarnes & Noble Nook
SmashwordsGoodreadsAllRomance
Publisher

EXCERPT

The darkness blurred and shimmered, bringing to life a man of moonlight and darkness: Aryne.

Before him Aryne could see her, lying in bed, tears of loneliness staining her pillow. She made his heart ache. He softly stepped to her side. His hand touched her face and gently pushed back her hair. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, turning her dreams from sadness to joy. Her body arched toward his touch as the skim of his hand, the heat of his skin traced the edges of her curves. He stepped back…and then within the shimmer of dreams disappeared.

Night after night her loneliness cried to him. Unable to resist, he came to her. Subtly he inserted himself into her dreams, into her arms. Aryne knew it was wrong. As a guide, his job was to bring sweet, peaceful dreams. But no one affected him like she had. He was unable to resist comforting her, drawing her into his arms, covering her body with his…but only in her dreams. There Aryne stole the passion from her lips, igniting an ache in his body that would not go away.

Touching her shattered him. He knew instinctively that her touch would be his downfall. Her touch could keep him here in this splinter of his world, isolated as all of the Outcasts were. Generations had gone by; those exiled had died long ago, their children mixing amongst the races of the universe.

He had tried to stay away, fearing this. He was adrift, swept away, drowning in her passion, breaths away from losing himself. Giving in, acknowledging the power she unknowingly had over him would condemn him, keep him here if she was unable to travel to his world. Very few could navigate between worlds. And this world would drain his power rather than enhance it. Even the short time he spent there took its toll on him, the drain only in abeyance when he was in her arms. Try as he might, he could not resist her siren call. Only by controlling her and the passion between them could he make sure that he would not become lost. Lost in her. Trapped forever in her world.

He had done his best, gentling her to his hand, to his control. She knew the unspoken rules, knew the consequences. He played them out in her dreams, a dark symphony of passion and restraint. Perhaps unforgivable for a guide, but he could not resist. And just her body was no longer enough. Eventually he would capture her heart and soul.

A man of shadows, it would be during the midnight hours of her slumber.

Touched Sandman - Author PhotoABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beverly Ovalle lives in Wisconsin with her husband Edmond of 24 years and two Chinese Water Dragons. Having her own Dragons is expected as she is dragon crazy and anyone that walks in her house can tell. Her son Nicholas visits when he is on leave from the Marines. Her daughter Susannah visits from time to time to make sure us ‘old’ folks are alive and kicking.

Beverly has traveled around the world thanks to five years in the US Navy and has worked for the government in one capacity or another for the past 30 years. Beverly and her brothers have travelled most of the continental United States as children due to the station wagon from Hell. Still active with veterans, she is adjutant for her local AMVETS.

Beverly has been reading romances since her Aunt introduced her to the gothic romance in the fourth grade and is still reading every chance she gets.

FOLLOW LINKS

Amazon Author PageWebsite/BlogFacebook
TwitterGoogle+PinterestTumblr
BlogYahooGoodreads
LinkedInFacebook

GIVEAWAY

5 book Lunchbox Romance subscription from Boroughs Publishing Group

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Louisa Bacio ~ On Tour for The Big One #Giveaway #MFRWAuthor

Today we’re thrilled to welcome Louisa Bacio, on tour for The Big One. Can we just say, you gotta love research! Scroll to the bottom to enter her giveaway, and click on the tour banner to travel to other stops on the tour.

louisabacio_tourbutton

A Touchy Research Subject

Thanks so much Adriana for having me here! I know you’d appreciate the hole I dug for myself with the hero of The Big One. Ooooh, I’m thinking the title is a triple entendre!

According to an article on Kinkly (“10 Things You didn’t Know About Penises”), approximately 80% of the men in the United States are circumcised. So while writing about a British hero, I had to stretch the old research a bit.

Do you have any idea what type of images pop up when you search for “uncircumcised penis” with the, ummm, “safe search” turned off? Oh, a plethora of information. More so, though, I wanted to know what it feels like, for the hero.

Lots of reading later, and hopefully the material is, errr, right. Because of the different nationalities of the hero and heroine, it actually makes for a humorous exchange in the story.

And if you’d like to read the entire article, here’s a link!

http://www.kinkly.com/2/89/lets-talk-about-it/10-things-you-dont-know-about-penises

The-Big-OneExcerpt

“You want out of here? Fine, go for it.” Kayla pointed toward the doorway. “Be my guest and try to break the lock. If you succeed, I make no promises to your safety out there. We don’t know what’s happening. Maybe this was a minor shaker, or maybe the real thing, but what’s it going to hurt to sit tight and figure it out?”

“You plan on helping me pass the time in a more enjoyable manner?” He wagged his eyebrows at her, and despite herself, and her promise to have a strong will, a flutter started low in her belly. She couldn’t be attracted to him. He was such a neophyte. People like him never understood her.

“You watch yourself there.” She turned around and stalked to the other side of the room. Okay, given they were in such a small space, there wasn’t any getting away from him at the moment. He—and people like him—made her so mad.

“What about being optimistic?” he asked. “Thinking about the best in people. Self-fulfilling prophecies and life affirmations?”

“You can be positive all you want, and it’s not going to fill up your tank of gas. Having money, in smaller bills, hidden in case the banks crash and your ATM card doesn’t work—that’s being prepared. Just because I believe in reserving some supplies doesn’t mean I willed all this to happen. It did, and I’m ready for it.”

“‘Reserving?’ Is that what they’re calling it nowadays? I thought it was more akin to hoarding.”

Hoarding? He really didn’t get it. His comment hung in the air, and she did her best to ignore it. No matter what she said, the scorn from nonbelievers hurt. She grew up with her father being harassed by family members. It was only a matter of time before it was her turn. And her sister? Well, forget about telling her anything about being prepared. Maybe as destruction hit and a certain segment of the population was taken out, they’d be all gone. All that would be left would be those who’d taken the necessary precautions.

A wave of dizziness at the implications hit her, and she sat back down.

Right. As if life worked like that.

Blurb:

The last thing marketing assistant Kayla Morgan expects to do on a Friday morning is give a tour of her emergency shelter to a flighty rock star. When her boss orders her to play nice, she acquiesces.

Sebastian Cox, lead singer of The U.K. Underground, finds the American bird with the bunker in her backyard more than wacky, but the band’s looking for a location to shoot their latest video.

When an earthquake strikes, the unlikely couple gets trapped and finds a few ways to keep themselves busy. Once reality sets in, will their differences leave them on shaky ground?

BUY LINKS

Available via Amazon, Decadent Publishing, ARe, Barnes & Noble and other eRetailers.

About Louisa Bacio

A Southern California native, Louisa Bacio can’t imagine living far away from the ocean. The multi-published author of erotic romance enjoys writing within all realms – from short stories to full-length novels.

Bacio shares her household with a supportive husband, two daughters growing “too fast,” and a multitude pet craziness: Two dogs, five fish tanks, an aviary, hamsters, rabbits and hermit crabs. In her other life, she teaches college classes in English, journalism and popular culture.

Visit her online at: http://www.louisabacio.com, http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio

and http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

Contest:

1) 3-book bundle of 1Night Stand titles: A Date with Death, A Dance with Death and A Duel with Death.

2) $15 gift card to Amazon

3) Grand prize: Emergency kit and swag pack (shipping to U.S. only).

Contest ends: Aug. 11

Rafflecopter

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

Guest Sabrina York ~ Defiant #MFRWAuthor @sabrina_york

 Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, has a new release, and you won’t want to miss this excerpt from Defiant. Take it away, Sabrina!

defiantDEFIANT, by Sabrina York

Noble Passions, Book Five

When rakish Ned falls in with the wrong crowd, his brother decides to send him to the Continent for “seasoning”. For Sophia, this just won’t do. She’s loved Ned for ages—and also longed for adventure. She runs away from her boring suitors and disguises herself as a cabin boy on the Defiant, the ship sailing Ned to Italy.

Ned knows he’s not good enough for Sophia, but once they’re on the Defiant, he can’t stop himself from touching her, tasting her, loving her. Not when a wild tempest and a band of ruthless pirates threaten them. Not when every look from her gives him such pleasure. And certainly not when she comes, warm and wild and willing, to his bed.

If they survive their voyage, Sophia’s brother might kill him, but it will have been worth every moment and every hot, sweet kiss.

A Romantica® Regency historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Get it now:

Ellora’s Cave

Amazon

READ AN EXCERPT

Sophia stood on the bow of the boat in the dark as the wind and rain lashed her face. She loved it. Loved it. Not only was the storm elemental and fierce, it hid her tears.

Surely she hadn’t expected Ned to greet her with open arms. Not when she had barged in on his adventure as she had. But she certainly hadn’t expected him to be so horrid. His expression had devastated her.

Foolish girl, it said.

But then, her heart agreed.

She was foolish.

Foolish to ever think that he—

“You’re soaked.”

She whirled around, though she knew what she’d see. More glowering.

She was right.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m reveling.” She thrust out her chin, in case he didn’t believe her.

He gaped at her. “Reveling?”

“Yes.” She didn’t mean to shout, but his wintry demeanor annoyed her tremendously. She threw out her arms. “Look at this!”

“It’s a storm.”

“It’s beautiful. The waves are wild, untamed—”

“You could be swept overboard.”

“The wind is howling and the rain is savage. It’s glorious.”

“It’s freezing. Come inside.”

“It’s not freezing. It’s summer.”

I’m cold.”

“Then you go inside.”

“Sophia Fiona—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“You sound like Ewan.”

“I’m starting to think Ewan is a saint.”

She glared at him. “What a beastly thing to say.” She hated that her chin wobbled a little. Hated that he winced.

“I’m sorry, Sophia. This has been trying for me.” He sluiced the water from his face. “Won’t you please come inside?”

“All right. Fine.”

“You will?”

“You did say please.”

He blew out a breath and offered her his arm. She frowned at it. “I’m a cabin boy, remember? You don’t offer a cabin boy your arm.” When he didn’t lower it, she smacked it. “Someone will see.”

That caught his attention and he slowly lowered his arm. “Right then. Come inside.” He followed her back to the cabin, his stride decidedly unsteady. If anyone was tipping overboard, it was most likely him.

When she once again stood in his chambers, she realized the folly of her actions. She hadn’t brought a change of clothes and she was drenched. So was he. Without a word, he relit the lamp and then opened his trunk and pulled out several shirts, two of which he tossed to her. “Change.”

That was it. One word. Just “change” and then he presented her with his back. She huffed a breath, but did as he asked because she was really rather cold. The feel of the cloth falling over her chilled flesh warmed her. Because it was his shirt. It had touched his skin. She wasn’t sure why the thought sent heat scudding through her belly.

“Use the other shirt to dry your hair,” he suggested, as he began toweling off as well.

She huffed a laugh. “All of your clothes will be wet.”

“They’ll dry. Are you clothed?”

“Yes.”

He turned. And froze. His gaze locked onto her bare legs. “I-I thought you said you were clothed.” A squawk.

“I am.” But the intensity of his stare made her self-conscious, so she slipped into the bed.

“Close your eyes,” he said as he unbuttoned the damp linen clinging to his chest.

“Why?”

“I need to change as well. I’m f-freezing.”

“Okay.” She did. But she peeked.

He ripped off his wet shirt and her breath caught at the sight of his broad back. Muscles rippled as he moved and she swallowed. He was beautiful. He tugged the fresh shirt over his head and she nearly whimpered as that magnificent vision disappeared. But then, he unfastened his trousers.

All pretense of not peeking evaporated.

He sat and took a moment to work off his boots. And then he stood. His trousers were tight, as was the fashion, and he had to peel them off. As he bent, she caught a flash of his bare behind.

She must have made a noise because he whirled around. His cheek bunched when he saw her watching. “You’re supposed to have your eyes closed.”

She hunkered in the covers, as though that would disguise the fact that her eyes were open wide.

“Sophia…”

It was probably wrong to grin at him, but she couldn’t help it.

“Sophia Fiona!”

“Stop calling me that. It always makes me think I’m in trouble.”

“You are in trouble. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”

She tipped her head to the side. “We both know Ewan will be so relieved to see me, he’ll forget how angry he is—”

Ned stilled and fixed her with a dark glare. “What makes you think I’m talking about Ewan?”

“I… ah…”

“I’ve a mind to bend you over my knee.”

Why a shiver rippled through her, she had no idea. She’d been spanked once or twice as a child and she hadn’t cared for it in the slightest. But something dark and domineering in Ned’s tone made her womb warm.

“You-you wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I? Now, look away. Your brother would skewer me if I gave you the education you’re about to have.”

She attempted not to snort. Ned—and everyone—thought her a prim and innocent miss on account of the polish she’d acquired at Lady Satterlee’s. Nothing could be further from the truth. As a child, before Ewan had made his fortune, they’d lived a hand-to-mouth existence in the slums of Perth. She’d seen more than one couple rutting against a wall in a dingy alleyway. And at one point, she and her brother had taken refuge in a bordello. She’d been only seven, but if she’d had an education, she got it there. She could probably teach Ned a few things.

Still, because he seemed to expect it, she squeezed her eyes tight and didn’t hardly peek at all as he finished changing. Besides which, the spot she was interested in was mostly shadows.

With a great huff, he threw himself back into the chair. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Don’t you want me to put out the light?”

“No. I want to be able to see where you are.”

“I’m not leaving again tonight.” Probably. Unless her despair overcame her once more.

“Leave it on.” A grunt, and not a very nice one at that. Why he had call to be annoyed, she couldn’t fathom.

Blast and damn, he was an annoying man. Sophia grunted as well and rolled over, facing the wall of the cabin. She studied the patterns the swinging lamp made for a long while, listening as he shifted one way and then the other.

It was really unfair for him to have to sleep in the chair. This was his room. But he would never share her bed. She grimaced at the way the words came out, but it was true. He wouldn’t. Unless…

She rolled over again and watched him twist in the chair. He caught her eye and frowned.

“Ned?”

An impatient groan. “Yes, Sophia?”

“Ned, I’m cold.”

He stilled. Then barked, “Put on another blanket.”

“There aren’t any more.” She faked a shiver. She wasn’t cold in the slightest. She never was. Ewan said she ran hot. “Brr. My teeth are chattering.”

His glower became a frown.

“I hope I don’t get ill.”

He paled. “You shouldn’t have gone out in the rain. Why did you go out in the rain?”

She sneezed. Or something like it. “I don’t know.”

“Sophia?”

“Am I running a fever?” She put her palm to her forehead. “I think I’m running a fever.”

His brow wrinkled. He stood and made his way across the tiny chamber as though on his death march. He set the backs of his fingers to her cheeks. His frown darkened. “You are warm.”

“No. I’m cold.” She shivered and peered up at him, her eyes as wide as she could make them. “Won’t you warm me?”

He wrenched his hand away as though she’d burned him. “What?”

“Lie here beside me and warm me up?”

“There’s not enough room for both of us.”

“I’m small.”

“Sophia.” She’d never heard her name in such a strangled voice, not even when Ewan was at his wit’s end.

“Just for a bit? You can be on top of the covers. Surely that is decent.”

The muscle in his cheek bunched again, as though he were grinding his teeth.

“Please?”

He gusted a sigh. “All right, Sophia. Scoot over and make room.”

She did. With alacrity.

“And roll over, facing the wall.”

She frowned at him “Why?”

“Just do it. Please.”

“Oh, all right.” But only because he said please. And because, when she was facing the other way, he couldn’t see her grin.

He settled in behind her and a shiver rocked her. He was warm. And he smelled delicious. Not fishy in the slightest. It was delightful, lying here with him. She closed her eyes and imagined he wanted this as much as she.

If only. If only.

Sabrina_head_logoAbout Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

Check out the other books in the Noble Passions Series from Sabrina York

Follow the decadent exploits of friends and enemies as they find love and passion in the glittering world of the Regency—and its dark underbelly.folly_msr (final)

Book 1: Folly

2014 EPIC eBook Award Finalist
2013 Passionate Plume Finalist

Widowed and threatened with penury by her heartless in-laws, Eleanor–Lady Ulster–hatches a plot to save herself. Determined to produce the Ulster “heir”, she seduces a stranger at a tawdry masquerade. Little does she know, this magnificent masked lover is none other than her husband’s greatest nemesis. And God knows Ulster had plenty.

Ethan Pennington is mortified to arrive at a house party and discover Lady Ulster in attendance. He has wanted her and hated wanting her–his enemy’s bride–for years. When he overhears Eleanor’s predicament and her plans to place a cuckoo in the Ulster nest, he is more than willing to oblige. The opportunity to finally claim her–while taking the revenge he craves–is more than he can resist. Ethan strikes a bargain with Eleanor, promising to provide her with the heir she so desperately needs…if she will meet his needs in return. Every decadent one of them.

darkfancy_msrBook 2: Dark Fancy

The sizzling prequel to Folly

2014 Winner of the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Award

When Lady Helena Simpson flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord, she finds refuge with James, a charming, handsome man unlike any she’s ever known. Helena concocts the perfect solution to her problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her. Surely her betrothed will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all her efforts fail and she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of her days, she will at least once have known true passion.

But James is not all he seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark fancy. When Helena awakens his desire, he becomes determined to take everything she has to offer and more. No matter the cost.

Book 3: Dark Duke

Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff’s life has been turned on its end. His well-ordered home has been invaded. By destitute relatives. From Scotland. How on earth can he write Lord Hedon’s salacious novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting fires in the library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion. His cousin’s companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin MacAllister. He is determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need for funds and her talents as an artist, he convinces her to draw naughty pictures for his naughtier books…and he draws her into his decadent web.

But Kaitlin has a secret. She’s fled Scotland—and a very determined betrothed. When Edward’s cousin is kidnapped and held in her stead, Kaitlin is honor-bound to return to her homeland and rescue her—much to Edward’s chagrin.
Because suddenly he can’t bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man. He can’t bear the thought of losing her at all.

Book 4: Brigand

Kidnapped and held prisoner by menacing Scottish brigand, the notorious McCloud, Violet Wyeth does her best to persevere…and resist his rakish charms. But when she realizes The McCloud is really Ewan St. Andrews, the boy who once saved her life, the boy who once kissed her and made her heart flutter, she is lost.

Ewan has every intention of marrying Lady Kaitlin MacAllister. He desperately needs the entrée into the ton this bride can provide. But when his bride is delivered—bound and gagged—it’s not Kaitlin. It’s Violet Wyeth—the girl who betrayed him and ruined his life when he was a boy. He keeps her, determined to punish her for her sins. But when he discovers the truth about what really happened so long ago, and seething passion rises between them, he can no longer hold on to his rusty grudge. By the time he realizes how much he loves Violet—that he always has—he’s lost her.

All he can do is follow her. Follow her into the bowels of hell—and partake in the torment of the glittering London Season, where the harpies are far more dangerous than a Scottish brigand.

 
© 2017 Adriana Kraft. All Rights Reserved.