Tuesday, May 30, 2017

The Master of Blackmoor - Julie Shelton




Title: The Master of Blackmoor
Author: Julie Shelton
Series: Standalone Title
Genre: Erotic Gothic Regency Romance w/ BDSM Elements M/F
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: May 23 2017
Edition/Formats: 1st Edition/Format~ eBook
Source: Author for Book Promotion
Blurb/Synopsis:

Danielle Dulac has just been sacked after spurning her employer’s lecherous advances. Penniless and without references, she is desperate to acquire the position of governess at Esterly House on the bleak Yorkshire moors. When the mail coach slides into a ditch in the middle of a blizzard, she is forced to seek shelter at the nearest house, Blackmoor Hall.
But visitors are not welcome at Blackmoor Hall and she gets sent to the stables to shelter from the storm. She is jerked out of sound slumber by a snow-blasted horse bursting into the stall, practically trampling her beneath his slashing hooves.
Anthony Markham, the Duke of Blackmoor, has just returned home after six months of dissolute living in London. He is surly, sarcastic, enigmatic, and hostile. And the most sensuous man Danielle has ever met. The attraction between them is instantaneous, combustible…and forbidden. Though a descendant of French nobility, Danielle is still a mere governess and Anthony Markham is a Duke.
When the position at Esterly House falls through, she has nowhere to go and faces a bleak future. To her shock, it’s Anthony Markham who comes to her rescue, offering her a position as governess to his four-year-old son, Geoffrey. Against her better judgment, she accepts.
She soon discovers that the Master of Blackmoor is haunted by a dark and tragic past filled with lies, betrayal and death. Unfortunately, the past is not over. Evil stalks Blackmoor Hall. The danger is escalating and all the clues point to the Duke himself.
As the passion between Anthony and Danielle rages out of control, so does the peril they face. Will they solve this mystery in time? Or will it wind up destroying them both?

Book Links




Excerpt 
Excerpt 1
“I am going to worship you,” he went on, his voice a mere wisp of sound. “I am going to worship every part of your body with every part of mine. I am going to give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”
Unable to speak, she just nodded, swallowing past the sudden constriction in her throat as another tide of fluid gushed out into her sex. She had never been this aroused, this wet, this needy and if he didn’t make love to her soon, she would explode.
“Anthony—” The word was ripped from her throat.

Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he turned her and led her over to her bed, where he lifted her in his arms and laid her carefully down. Placing one knee on the edge of the mattress, he laid down beside her, turning onto his right side to face her. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rested his head on his right hand while his left hand reached out to play with her breast, stroking, plumping, kneading. Idly plucking at her nipple with his fingers, he flicked his thumb across the knotted peak.
With a low moan, she arched her back, pushing herself upward into his hand.

“Your breasts are so sweet,” he murmured. “So luscious.” From her breast, his hand slid down her ribcage, over her flat stomach, to her mons. Spearing his fingers through her crisp, curly hairs, he slid them into her folds, unerringly finding her clitoris with his index finger and beginning a circling motion.

The breath shuddered from her lungs and her hips gyrated, lifting off the bed and seeking more of his touch.

She was so aroused that it wasn’t long before she was climbing up, up, up, soaring to the peak. And when her orgasm exploded inside her, she cried out, her inner muscles contracting in endless spasms of pleasure. While she was still climaxing, he slid down the bed and rolled over on his belly. Placing his hands beneath her knees, he spread her legs apart and positioned himself with his head at the juncture between her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes glazed with lust as he parted her outer lips with his thumbs and gazed at her wet slit.

“Anthony.” She watched as he bent his head to her. At the first flick of his tongue across her clit, she shrieked, arching her back, bucking her hips up toward his face, as trilling cries of pleasure erupted from her throat. Wrapping his arms round her thighs, he anchored her in place as he worked her. Blindly reaching for him, her hands clenched in his hair as he lashed her with his tongue, bringing her to another swift orgasm. An orgasm he prolonged by continuing the movements of his tongue against that super-sensitive little pearl, coaxing two more wrenching climaxes from her exhausted body.

After the last orgasmic wave shuddered through her, she just lay there, a delicious languor stealing over her. She had never experienced such pleasure before. Had never even known it was possible to feel such pleasure. When she was finally able to open her eyes and look at him, he was smiling. He kissed her belly as his fingers danced around her wet, slippery folds, creating a low, steady buzz of new sensation.


Author Information

From fairies in the garden at age 9 to handcuffs in the boudoir at age 60, Julie’s writing has run the gamut. In between, she managed to graduate cum laude with a B.A. in French from Georgia State University followed by a Master’s Degree in Library Science from Emory University. Having thus procured these two necessary but ultimately irrelevant pieces of paper, she launched a successful career as a children’s librarian, followed by an even more successful career as a professional storyteller and puppeteer.
 She published Kidstuff, an award-winning, monthly newsletter, as well as a book, Puppets, Poems and Songs, both major language arts resource for early childhood educators.

At various points in her life, if asked what she would like to be, her answer would have been (in rough chronological order, since some of these lofty ambitions overlapped): a fairy, a princess, a ballerina, Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, a paleontologist, Scarlett O’Hara, thin and beautiful, an actress, and a writer. Now, at age 73, her answer to that question would most likely be, “younger”.
Followed closely, of course by bestselling author. Oh, and a princess. Some dreams die hard.
Now retired, Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.

Author Links
Facebook Personal
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Group Dominant Deliciousness
Twitter    @JulieCShelton
Website Dominant Deliciousness

Other Books by Julie Shelton

(Links go to Goodreads)

Saturday, May 27, 2017

All I ask - Elizabeth York


Title: All I Ask
Author: Elizabeth York
Genre: Contemporary/Romantic Suspense
Release Date: May 23, 2017 Photographer: 

MHPhotography Designer: MGBookcover & Design


My name is Devan Anderson and I am a photographer and the by product of a cheating father and a childhood evaporated by illness. I'm stubborn, protective, but I care more than I let on. What does a girl like me do when I taste life for the first time? 
I'll give you a hint. It isn't what you think.
My name is Ian Jensen and I am a Pediatric Oncologist that works day and night with kids that prove to be braver than I. I am open to Nerf gun fights, having fun, and taking control. What's a doctor who lives life by the book do when given a new chapter to live in? 
Ask me again tomorrow?
What happens when a photographer set to live in the dark meets the doctor that lives in the light? What happens when our world collide?






Author Elizabeth York has been writing for about seven years. Located in the southeast, she spends her days drinking sweet tea on the porch with her laptop in hand. She has devoted her life to her family and her books. With the loss of her Father to cancer in 2010 she makes "Dear Daddy" dedication pages in each book and donates 10% royalties to cancer research.
Elizabeth was given a 2015 Author of the Year award sponsored by 31 blogs for her role in helping her fellow authors and her writing. She was also accepted into the Romance Writers of America organization in May of 2015.
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Friday, May 26, 2017

Mann Cakes - Mysti Parker

Two brothers. Two Sisters. One sweet & sexy rivalry.
If you're a fan of romantic comedy in the same vein as Janet Evanovich, Lauren Blakely, Kylie Gilmore & Louisa Edwards, you'll enjoy this! Plus, you'll get REAL bonus Mann Cakes recipes.



Release date: May 11
$0.99


Blurb: Love makes men do desperate things, if desperate things means opening a rival cupcake shop to drive your ex-girlfriend crazy. Twin brothers and Air Force vets, Tanner and Garrett Mann, return from deployment to find their thriving business burned to the ground. Time for Plan B: Move back to their hometown of Beach Pointe to start over. But that means running into Paige and Morgan Baxter –gorgeous, curvy, and owners of Two Sisters Cupcakes.

There’s an old diner for sale across town, Garrett’s a great cook, and Tanner has an idea. They’ll make savory cupcakes that men would like. We’re talking bacon and Cheez Whiz. Even better? They'll call it Mann Cakes. Problem is, they end up attracting an unexpected crowd. Paige is furious. Every man in her life has left her behind, including Tanner. She’s sacrificed everything for her shop. She won’t lose it over some egotistical ex-boyfriend, even if he does have an Air Force-chiseled body. Her younger sister, Morgan, isn’t helping matters. She’s been gaga over Garrett since high school. To hell with that. If it’s a fight Tanner wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. But how much is Paige willing to risk to win a cupcake war?


Contact Links:
 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RomanceforEveryReader/
 Twitter: https://twitter.com/MystiParker
 Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Mysti-Parker/e/B0055LOTX8/
 Website: http://www.mystiparker.com
 Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/k1j5q6 --
 Mysti Parker Romance for Every Reader's Taste www.mystiparker.com

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Infinite Us - Eden Butler



Title: Infinite Us
Author: Eden Butler
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 23, 2017 


Love is timeless…
Nash Nation loves zeroes and ones, over-sized monitors and late office hours. He’s too busy taking over the world to make time for relationships—that is, until his new neighbor Willow O’Bryant barges into his life, and now Nash can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the first time she’s interrupted his world.
Then, the dreams start. And in the dreams—memories.
Memories of a girl named Sookie who couldn’t count on love or friendship, never mind forever. Memories of a library and a boy called Isaac and secrets made in private that destroyed his world.
The memories seem real, but who do they belong to?
When Nash and Willow discover the truth, life as they know it unravels.
The bridge between this life and the next is shored up by blood and bone and memory. Sometimes, that bridge leads to the place we’ve always wanted to be.









My brain went into autopilot as I left Manhattan, grabbing the A train to get me to downtown Brooklyn. And the whole way home, with the rocking of the train, the funky smell of the city getting fainter with every stop, and the even worse body odor of all the compressed bodies, the ache in my head—threatening to turn into a migraine for real—grew the closer we came to my stop, that weird memory nagging at me.
That shit wouldn’t let me be.
Over and over in my head, as I huddled tight behind my jacket in the unseasonably chilly weather, the memory came clear as a raindrop.
Me and her. Me and the woman I didn’t know. Me as a man I’d never been.
The smell of roses. The hint of dust and coffee.
The feel of worn book bindings and the scrap of metal chairs on wood floors.
The taste of honey on my tongue.
The woman wrapped around me, holding tight, like I was her lifeline. Her red hair between my fingers, her nails pulling at my collar. Feeling needed. Feeling free.
A gust of wind blew off my hood, had my eyes watering as I jogged the rest of the way toward my building, barely acknowledging the people grouped around the front entrance. But then the sound of kids screeching cut into my brain, and I finally noticed that Old Man Walker was handing out Jolly Ranchers from the top step; for his grandkids and the others bouncing around, he couldn't get the wrapped candy out of his pockets fast enough.
In that small chaos, compounded by an arguing couple from 3C coming out of the elevator, brushing past the cluster of kids in their red and green puffy coats and their sniffling noses, heels clicking on the tile floor and crackling over the candy wrappers littering the hall, I forgot about the dream. If only for a second.
Until I saw Willow at the mailboxes.
Until I realized I couldn’t walk away from her.
She didn’t look much like the woman in my dream. Her hair was not red, but light brown. The redhead’s had been thick and bone straight. Willow’s was wild, all over the place, as though she could never get it under control.
The woman in my dream had been thin with barely a hint of curve to her shape. Elegant, graceful like a ballerina. Willow was all dips and bends, luscious, her legs strong with well-defined muscle, and a wide, wondrous ass.
Suddenly the rest of the world receded and there was nothing but the movement of Willow’s hair as she dug the mail from her box, the rhythm of her limbs as she swatted at that thick mass of hair, the swoop of her jacket hem against all those round, perfect curves as she turned, her attention on the envelopes in her hand.
The smell of her skin, the jasmine in her hair, seemed to billow around me as I stood motionless in the lobby. She was everywhere, familiar and yet unknown. A stranger/not stranger I had held at arm’s length, but still far more real than my dream, than the memory it was trying to evoke.
Willow stopped short as she noticed me, pausing with the mail held against her chest, a frown appearing on her face. I knew that expression from the last time I saw her, when I lied and told her I didn’t want her, when I had spoken promises that even then I knew I’d never keep.
“Nash.” There was a bite in her voice, the clip of my name, as if she was trying to sound disdainful, yet her voice still held an undertone of something that, if it had a flavor, would have tasted like honey. 
And then the dream, that sweet, stinging memory crashed over me. It wasn’t the first. It wasn’t the last. There was no girl called Sookie, no boy named Dempsey who loved her. This time, I’d watched, not knowing who I was; a voyeur in someone else’s life, but someone who felt so real to me. Someone I knew better than myself.
Déjà vu and fantasy and nonsense I did not understand hit me like a fever, and I was lost. The redhead kissed my neck. The hint of her soft, liquid tongue against my skin, tugging on my ear, wanting me with a fierceness no one ever had before, overwhelmed me, and I had to close my eyes to keep from being dragged under.
“What’s wrong with you?” Willow’s voice reeled me back in, and I opened my eyes to see her sweet, concerned expression and the curve of her mouth, the fullness of her bottom lip.
Then Willow... she took the back of her hair in one hand, twisting it into a braid—the smallest gesture that I’d seen her do a dozen times—and suddenly I realized: the woman in my dream had done the same thing. The same motion, the same movement. Just like Willow.
A sharp intake of breath—that was me. Willow had backed up a half step, her face confused, conflicted, and despite what I’d said before, I reached out and slid my fingers tentatively to touch her face, guiding her chin up so I could look into her eyes.
“What are…”
She made the smallest noise, something that sounded like a moan and a laugh at the same time. It transformed, deepened to a growl when I kissed her. Yet even as my mouth found hers, as my tongue slid along her lip, begging an invitation, one thought consumed me, something I didn’t believe was left over from my dream. One thought that made me brave, made me hungry: this woman belongs to me.
Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Mystery, Suspense and Contemporary Romance novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum. 
When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football. 
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana. 
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