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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.

 

Summer of Seduction On Tour #MFRWAuthor

Summer of Seduction
An Anthology
By Candi Fox, Louisa Bacio, Bobbi Romans, Monica Corwin, Audra Hart, Shakir Rashaan, AM Halford, 
Sheri Velarde, Izzy Szyn

These fabulous authors are offering wonderful giveaways. There are Amazon Gift Cert’s, ebooks, and a print book of Summer of Seduction up for Grabs. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. You may increase your chances of wining by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here

About the Book: 
“Avoid the burn, but savor the heat of the season! Kick back in the shade with your copy of Nine Hot Authors – Nine Sexy Tales of Summer Sizzle!

“Sugar’s Salvation” by Candi Fox 
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“Dry Heat” by Louisa Bacio
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“A Summer Tryst” by Bobbi Romans
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
Windows and Doors By Monica Corwin
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“Primal Heat” by Audra Hart
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“GFE Interrupted” by Shakir Rashaan
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“Summer Fever in a Tent” by A.M. Halford
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“Mikhail’s American Adventure” by Sheri Velarde
☆。☆。☆ 。☆。☆
“Kassie’s Seduction” by Izzy Szyn


Featuring an exotic array of genres to tempt even the pickiest of palates! Come, join the erotic adventure of “A Summer of Seduction”

 

Amazon Buy Link

~*~*~*~*~*~

Summer Fever in a Tent Book Blurb:

Paul has loved Danny, his best friend’s little brother, since they were kids. Not willing to risk his friendship, Paul has kept his feelings well hidden, at least until a camping trip provides the opportunity he’s been waiting for.

Excerpt: 

He watched as Danny tossed the football across the park, watching it spin in a perfect spiral before he caught it. The shorter man hooted and cheered himself on for his perfect form. Then again, considering how long Paul had been teaching Danny to throw a football, he’d better have perfect form by now.

Still, he couldn’t help but watch as the man jumped around, his ear length black hair bouncing around him. The sunlight glinted off it, reflecting with shades of red outward. His brown eyes were dancing happily as he turned to meet Paul’s gaze and held out his hands for the return throw.

Paul pulled his arm back, and let the ball fly, spinning beautifully and arcing across the summer sky as it came in for a landing right where he wanted it to. Danny’s arms. That radiant smile that met his own had Paul fighting with the same urge he’d had since he’d met the younger man ten years ago. Danny had been twelve then. Paul fourteen, and had just made friends with the man’s older brother Raymond. Ray was a cool guy, but Paul was completely certain the man would kill him if he ever got wind of the fact he held romantic, and sexual, desires for his “precious baby brother”.

The guy had a brother complex. Bad.

Danny jogged over to him and grabbed his water from the bag laying on the grass at his feet. In doing so he bent over, giving Paul the perfect few of the man’s small bubble butt and even a peek at his lower back as his shirt rode up just the tiniest amount.

“So, Ray says you guys are going to the mountains to camp,” Danny said after he stood and took a drink from his water bottle. “Where to?”

“We’re driving up to Oregon and hiking a place called Eight Dollar to Baby Foot Lake,” Paul shrugged. “Ray swears it’s beautiful.”

“Should be fun,” Danny packed up his water and grabbed his bag. “Can’t wait.”

“Wait, what?” Paul practically tripped over his own two feet as he tried to follow Danny. “You’re coming?”

“Something wrong with that?” Danny pouted.

Oh, gods! Not the pout. Every person alive was weak to that big lower lip and puppy dog look. Paul had seen Ray fold time and time again once it came out. Paul was no different.

“No, nothing’s wrong with it,” Paul found himself saying.

“Great!” Danny cheered before kissing Paul’s cheek and rushing back to their awaiting cars.

Paul let the feeling of another’s lips pressed against his skin linger for a moment before following him. Danny was overly affectionate with everyone. His kisses and hugs meant nothing special. He saw Paul as another big brother, and he hated it! How he wished sometimes he wasn’t Ray’s best friend and didn’t have that obstacle to contend with. Then maybe he could pursue his feelings for Danny more openly.

As it was though, these small stolen moments tossing a ball back and forth was the most he could hope for these days. Danny was a full-time student at the local college while Paul worked at his dad’s auto mechanic shop sixty hours a week, six days a week. Maybe having him come along on the camping trip would be a good thing? Perhaps if he saw a bit more of the energetic guy Paul could get his fill via osmosis or something.

He doubted that though. If that were possible then all the time they’d spent together prior to college and careers would’ve been enough.

Danny tossed his small bag in his car just as his phone rang. Paul tried not to glower at the sleek device. He knew who it was, and he wanted to pummel the guy with a tire iron.

~*~*~*~*~*~
About the Author: 

A.M. Halford lives in Southern Oregon and enjoys spending as much time outside as she possibly can. Her partner and her often find themselves hiking with their two dogs when the weather permits it. Fishing, camping, and photography are also activities she greatly enjoy. If the weather doesn’t permit going outside she likes to curl up with a sketch book and draw whatever comes to mind.

A.M. Halford got into writing as an outlet for personal therapy and has since expanded that into a hobby and profession that she enjoys. She often writes down anything that comes to mind, combing through the ideas and expanding on plots that sound the most interesting. She likes to write believable relations between people overcoming unfair hardships set before them. She always loves a happy ending and no matter the hell her characters go through they’ll always get their forever person.

Social Links: 
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads |
Bookstrand | Amazon

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tattooed Ladies: A Taste of f/f

Imagine a sexy redhead just recovering from her divorce who’s got a crush on her much younger massage therapist – a woman with several tempting tattoos in just the right places. Hubby and I imagined exactly that and had a wonderful time getting “A Bucket List Tattoo” on the page for our story in the upcoming lesbian erotic romance anthology, Tattooed Ladies, scheduled for release July 21 at Torquere Press in their Toy Box series.

I have to confess it was one of our characters (Merry Delaney, in The Merry Widow) who actually inspired my first tattoo, and yes, it was on my bucket list. I blogged about it at MySpace the spring I got it (May, 2008). So tattoos are close to my heart, and what better than designing a trio of lesbian erotic stories around that theme? Beth Wylde is to be credited with the inspiration. She’s collaborated with Kissa and me on earlier projects so when she invited us to participate we were all in. Here are blurbs for our three stories:

Lipstick Prints by Kissa Starling

An online baker’s site provides an introduction for Tessa to Maria, a bisexual wife and mother. Their friendship builds through daily discussion, phone calls and eventually an in-person meeting. That moment in time becomes a catalyst for change in Tessa that she never thought possible.

In My Skin by Beth Wylde

Melissa is a tattoo artist whose girlfriend has a serious phobia about needles. Kendra finally decides to confront her fears and let Melissa tattoo her but just stepping into her lover’s shop leaves her shaking. Will Melissa be able to pull off the impossible and put her name in Kendra’s skin? It’s going to take some smooth moves and fast talking to get it done.

A Bucket List Tattoo by Adriana Kraft

Just past fifty and freshly divorced, cardiac nurse Natalie Gardner decides it’s time to create her personal bucket list. On the top of her list? A tattoo – but she’s nervous about the pain. Maybe Cindy McGraw, the hot young physical therapist she often lunches with, can help her out. Next on her list? It may be too much to hope for, but she’s definitely angling for more than tattoo advice from Cindy. Would a taste be too much to ask?

 
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