Get taken over by WICKED TAKEOVER by Tina Donahue...and there's a #contest!

She’s just inherited a tattoo parlor…and the hunk who comes with it.

Lauren’s in a helluva mess. Not only has she lost her corporate job, her long-absent father just left her a struggling tattoo parlor along with the virile dude who runs it. Dante’s sinfully hot with a killer smile and inked biceps. Lauren’s full-figured, sorta pretty and wanting him badly. Dream on. She’s here to sell the place as quickly as possible for some much-needed cash.

Dante sees the heat in Lauren’s eyes despite her conservative appearance. He recognizes the dynamite woman she could be if she’d just loosen up and have some wicked fun. Dominance and submission. Making love in a public place. Having her lush body always accessible to and ready for his.

Carnal games that seduce them until lust turns to surprising need and friendship to something deeper that might just change their futures.

Here's a snippet to sharpen your appetite...for the needle and the book...

Growling, Dante not only participated, he fucking claimed her, slipping his arm around her waist, holding her tight enough that Lauren knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

Oh hell yeah. She moaned wantonly. He delivered more pleasure, his tongue pushing hers

aside so his could fill her mouth. The scent of coffee lingered on his breath. His skin smelled clean and musky. Lauren sagged into him.

He got all protective and possessive, tensing his arm to support her weight. With his free hand, Dante cupped her boob, his passion matching hers. There wasn’t a bit of hesitation or tenderness, only pure hungry male as he squeezed the soft swell of her breast then thumbed her nipple, making the tip so tight it hurt. The ache felt good. Needed. Lauren opened her mouth even more, her tongue dancing with his. She ground her pussy against his cock.

They made hungry, shameless sounds that fueled their desire, their kiss going from out of control to beyond anything Lauren had experienced with another man. She dragged her fingers over his shoulders, down his biceps then around to his back, greedy to touch as much of him as she could. Dante was the same, his hands roaming everywhere, not content to settle on one part of her.

Finally, he pulled his mouth free and lifted his face to the ceiling. His chest pressed against Lauren’s as he gulped air.

She stared at his Adam’s apple, transfixed at the way it bobbed with his hard swallow. The shadow of beard on his throat was hotter than sin. Lauren licked those short dark hairs and suckled his neck.

A lewd noise rumbled from Dante, mingling with the music. The Spanish guitars were gone, replaced with a sultry Cuban beat that spoke of tropical nights, fevered kisses and balmy air scented with sex.

Lauren’s ears buzzed. She pressed closer.

Dante whispered something in Spanish that she didn’t understand. Didn’t matter. His actions spoke volumes.

He cupped her ass and pulled her into his rock-hard cock that surely demanded a soft, heated pussy. The ends of his hair brushed her neck as he trailed kisses from her cheek to her temple then to her ear. After licking her lobe, he snuggled his tongue inside.

A shock of desire tore so ruthlessly through Lauren she wilted against Dante, wanting every intimate and carnal act that he’d be willing to share with her.

For now, he concentrated on her throat, suckling it. Ohhhh. Bursts of heat and crazy good sensations had her gasping in pleasure. Gripping his tee, she twisted the stretchy fabric in her fists, wanting to tear it from him.

Dante pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You all right?”

Too lost in the moment to speak, Lauren nodded.

“Good.” Far more swiftly than she would have imagined, he pulled her away from the wall and slung her over his shoulder.

Lauren yelped and gripped his ass for support. His solid muscles flexed beneath her fingers. She let out a crude, wanting moan.

Despite her weight, Dante strode down the hall easily, heading toward the backroom. Visions of melting Dove bars filled Lauren’s brain. She murmured, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He ran his hand over her ass, his thumb on her cleft. “Yet.”

Her pussy got even wetter. She dropped her head and bit her lip at the sweet scent of his tee and the fragrance of pure man beneath.

His steps slowed when he’d reached his workstation. He carried her inside and kicked the door closed. The sharp sound of metal hitting metal told her he’d locked it. With that finished, he set

Lauren on her feet.

Unsteady, she staggered back. Dante gripped her wrist to keep her from falling.

She stared at him. He stared at her. This was really happening. The thought was so welcome and outrageous the room lurched.

Dizzy, Lauren lowered her face.

Dante stroked her wrist. “You’re sure you’re okay.”

She’d never be that way again, not after knowing him. Thankfully, she’d have some dynamite memories once this was over, which it would be. Lying, Lauren nodded.

Dante released her wrist.

She felt the loss of his touch and heat immediately, wanting it back. Lifting her chin, Lauren spoke in the firmest voice she could muster. “I’m ready for anything.”

Bring. It. On.

“Oh yeah?” His smile turned wolfish. “Get naked.”'

Find it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/wicked-takeover.html

 AUTHOR BIO:

Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.

FB Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/TinaDonahueBooks

Email: tina@tinadonahue.com

Website: http://www.tinadonahue.com/

Blog: http://www.tinadonahue.com/blog/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tina.donahue.75

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Triberr: http://triberr.com/tinadonahue

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/authortina/my-books/

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/tinadonahue

My page at TRR: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=tinadonahue

EC Author Page: https://www.ellorascave.com/index.php/authors/index/author/slug/tina-donahue/

Samhain Author Page: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/Tina-Donahue-pa-1630.html

AND THERE'S A CONTEST! GETCHER GIVEAWAY HERE (IF YOU'RE LUCKY)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Get Hooked by Fisher~~Seducing the Hermit by Suz deMello (MFRW_ORG #MFRWAuthor #erotica #romance)

The subtitle for this blog post could be "See, romance writers can be literary too!" 

Seducing the Hermit is my retelling of one of the Grail myths, specifically, the myth of the Fisher King. There are a number of different versions of this tale. Here's the one I remember:

During the quest to find the Holy Grail, Sir Percival, one of the most innocent and pure of King Arthur's knights, enters an enchanted wood and gives his horse its head, that is, allows the animal to roam freely to pick its way through the wood. He enters a waste land in which nothing grows. Within the Waste Land is a lake with a castle nearby. On the lake is a boat with a man fishing--the Fisher King.

The king rows to shore and invites Percival to stay at his castle as long as he likes. Percival notices that the king is wounded but does not dare to ask about the crippling wound to the groin, which he learns has rendered the king impotent. Such a question would be intrusive and rude, and Percival has been taught not to pry.

The feast is lavish and the companionship merry, but when Percival awakens the next morning, everyone is gone. The next evening again brings another party, but again, the next morning the castle is deserted and lonely in its Waste Land.

Finally Sir Percival asks the Fisher King "What troubles you?"

And the king is healed, as is the land, for the land is a reflection of its king's infertility.

In Seducing the Hermit, Val Percy, a deejay from Los Angeles, comes to Alaska to work and meets Fisher Chugatt, who keeps the radio station's old equipment running. He's not impotent as in the myth, but he is commitment-shy to an extreme degree. Valerie, having been raised by somewhat uptight parents, feels it's bad manners to ask what the deal is.

I'll let you read the book to find out what Valerie learns. In the meantime, here's a snippet to pique your interest in Val and Fisher's romance.

Fisher pulled her tight against him, and their hips met with a sudden, sharp bang that presaged what Valerie hoped would happen. His cock was a long, thick ridge against her mound, and he ground his pelvis from side to side, rubbing that heavenly bulge against her. She bent one knee and raised it high, wrapping her leg around his waist, opening herself so he’d hit the sweetest spot. Each push of his rod against her clit took her higher, made her hotter.

She tore her mouth away from his and panted for breath, seeking control of herself. She didn’t know him well enough to let herself completely lose her head, and it wasn’t smart to fall into lust with the first man she’d laid eyes on in her new home.

“Isn’t this the kind of help you had in mind?” Fisher’s eyes were languorous, his beautifully sculpted mouth half-open, wet, seductive.

If you like what you read, buy it here in print:

Or in digital:

A Dark Night in Bangkok with Lisabet Sarai's BANGKOK NOIR

Bangkok, Thailand, has a split personality. It is famed for its glittering temples, vibrant street markets, deliciously fiery cuisine and abundant hospitality. At the same time, its go-go bars and sex shows, transvestite cabarets and ready flesh for hire have given the city a rather sleazy reputation as one of the sin capitals of the world.  A seam of darkness runs through Bangkok, flowing slow and deep as the Chao Phraya River that winds its way through the City of Angels.

The reality, of course, is far more complex than either stereotype. I know the city fairly well, having lived there for two years during the nineties and visited often in the years since. My first novel, Raw Silk, celebrates the exotic, sensual side of Bangkok. Kate, the expat heroine, finds herself as dazzled by the opulent glamor of her royally-connected lover as she is by the tender ferocity of her tattooed Master. 

My new release, an erotic thriller entitled Bangkok Noir,  explores the seamier side: sex for sale, official corruption, violent crime.

Diana Fanning, aka the Professor, runs The Academy, the only genuine BDSM bar in Bangkok. She's the first person police colonel Apichat Weeranwongsakul consults when a bar girl turns up brutally murdered, tightly bound, with clamped nipples and every orifice stuffed with sex toys. The colonel figures the killer might be one of her customers. But he has his own secrets. He needs Diana to satisfy his shameful dreams of being beaten and abused. Meanwhile, a mysterious American named Sam stalks Nok, the lovely natural dominant who is the Professor's star performer. Nok is used to being the one in charge. She can't understand why she craves the discipline Sam administers.

As more women are slaughtered, always in kinky circumstances, the Professor finds herself in an exclusive world catering to the perversions of Bangkok's wealthy and well-connected. Simultaneously looking for evidence and satisfying her own lusts, she doesn't realize until too late that the power she's used to wielding won't save her from becoming the serial murderer's next victim.

Here’s an excerpt, in the voice of Nok, one of the Professor’s dancers who is accustomed to playing the role of Domme – at least on stage.

****

At the end of the row of benches, I noticed somebody new. A handsome farang with hair the color of straw, wearing business clothes that looked expensive. He smiled at me, a strange smile that made me feel like I was naked.

Of course, my costume doesn't hide very much. Normally, that gives me a feeling of power. Maybe I will allow them to see the hidden parts. Maybe not.

With this man, it didn't matter what I was wearing. I felt like he could see right through my clothing. Like he could see every bit of me, even if I wore street clothes. My nipples started to ache, and my G-string got more slippery than ever.

For the first time since I started working for Ajarn, I was nervous. I stumbled on my spiky heels. I almost lost my balance. Luckily, I was able to turn the mistake into a sexy dip that showed off my bare rear. Most of the customers didn't notice.

The blond man was not fooled.

My heart was beating so hard that it hurt. When I finished my dancing time, I ran into the toilet and splashed some water on my face. I crouched down, my back against the wall, listening to the chatter of the other girls. My eyes closed, I tried to follow my breathing, the way the monks taught me. All I could see was the farang looking at me, with that X-ray stare of his, like something from a science fiction movie.

I stayed in the bathroom for as long as I could. I knew Ajarn would notice if I was gone too long. Finally, I had to go back out. I peeked out from behind the curtains, trying to see if he was still there. When I saw that his seat was empty, I sighed with relief.

I headed toward the bar to get a coke. My throat was tight and dry. Then I felt a hand on my arm. It was him. His skin was so cool, it made me shiver.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. His voice was kind, and made me think of music. Still, I felt something like terror. He stared at me without blinking. Now it was me who was embarrassed. I looked away.

Ajarn was on the other side of the room, watching us. I couldn't refuse.

"Thank you, sir. Just a moment. I go get a coke, come back right away."

"Let me go with you," he said smoothly. He took my arm and walked me to the bar. After we got our drinks, he guided me to a table in the corner.

"Sit," he ordered. I didn't want to, not really. But what could I do? I clicked my glass against his. "Chok dee," I said. "Good luck to you." 

His smile made me feel like I had eaten a meal of live butterflies. "Same to you. What's your name?"

"My name Nok. What your name?"

"You can call me Sam," he said. "Nok is bird, right?"

I nodded. He brushed my long hair off my shoulders and down my back. Then he took my chin in his

hand. He raised my eyes to meet his again. I felt like I was captured. Trapped.

"Very appropriate. You're as delicate and airy as a sparrow." I thought of those caged birds they sell at the temples. You set the birds free to make merit, but they always return to their masters.

Without warning, he kissed me. His lips were as soft as his voice, at least at first. I thought I should stop him, though. I tried to pull away. His right hand held my mouth against his. His left arm wrapped around my waist. I couldn't move.

So I gave up. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth and suck the breath from me. The funny thing was, as soon as I gave in to him, I began to like it. He smelled like soap and expensive cologne. He tasted like his whisky. I could feel that he was strong, much stronger than he looked, with his slim body and fancy clothes.

He kissed me harder, biting my lip. I felt like I was melting. He let go of my chin and played with my breasts through the stretchy mesh. My sex was on fire against the hot, sticky leather.

Suddenly, he pinched one of my nipples, digging in his fingernails. His mouth smothered my cry of surprise and pain. After the pain, though, I felt amazing pleasure, shooting up my spine like lightning. 

"You like that, Nok." My English is only so-so, but I could tell he wasn't asking a question. He was telling me. And he was right.

I was terribly embarrassed. I wanted him to do it again.

He bent me backwards. My hair nearly brushed the floor. He put his mouth on the other nipple and sucked. I felt that his mouth was between my legs, sucking me there. It was like heaven. I reached up, wanting to stroke him, but he pushed my hands away.

Then, when I was not expecting it, he sank his teeth into my flesh. Everything went dark for an instant. Then pain exploded in me, brilliant as the sun. I was burning up, but I wanted to burn.

When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. That strange smile was on his face, but he also looked worried. "That's enough for tonight, Nok," he murmured. "I have an appointment elsewhere, in any case. But I will come back for you, soon."

I was too dazed to say anything. He stuffed a thousand baht note into the cup with the bill, to cover two one hundred baht drinks, and stood to leave. I grabbed his shirt. Not thinking, but not wanting him to go.

"Please, sir..."

He flicked his thumb across one of my aching nipples. Delicious echoes of pain rippled through me. "Be patient, Nok. Be patient and wait. Now is not your time."

Before I could say or do anything more, he was gone. I sat on the stool, confused. Ashamed. Frustrated. Sticky and dirty and smelling like a whorehouse. I buried my face in my hands, almost ready to cry.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Your turn to dance again," said Lin. I nodded and stood up. I was still shaking.

"Who was that guy?" she asked. She knew that something was wrong with me.

"Just a guy," I said. I made myself sound uninterested. "Just a customer."

****

Bangkok Noir is as dark as its name. But it’s very hot. If you enjoy moderately extreme BDSM in an exotic setting, pick up your copy today.

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/Bangkok-Noir-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B00NIABWK6/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bangkok-Noir-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B00NIABWK6/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bangkok-noir-lisabet-sarai/1114303601?ean=2940150400511

Kobo

http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Bangkok-Noir/book-Mj4pj0hcT0i3d7Yc9rJ7qQ/page1.html?s=M4pxyx16XUGQJgqGO0c36A&r=1

Smashwords

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/475722

Find out more about Lisabet and her books:

http://www.lisabetsarai.com (lots of free reading at my website!)

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com (active blog with many giveaways)

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

The Yellowblown™ Eruption Begins Today – New Release by Jill Hughey

J. Hughey chose the release date of her new New Adult contemporary romance to correspond with the date of the eruption of the Yellowstone volcano in her story, an event that will turn her lead character’s world on its head as the series progresses. The first book, Eruption, gives a glimpse of Violet Perch’s college life and the unavoidable changes she endures when things get seriously messed up for the North American continent. If you didn’t know North America is a continent, you’ll learn a few more geeky facts while enjoying Violet’s story. Plus, keep reading to get a chance to win some swag! 

Here’s the blurb for Eruption, which will be on sale for 99 cents for a short time:

I’m in the middle of the perfect college semester, hundreds of miles from Mom, with an awesome roomie and my freshman crush finally becoming a sophomore reality—Hotness! I’m figuring out calculus, I’ve got both hands on the handlebars and the wind of freedom in my hair. What on earth could slow my roll?

How about if the Yellowstone volcano erupts for the first time in 630,000 years, spewing a continuous load of ash (crap) all over North America? Think that’ll put a kink in my bicycle chain?

Make that kinks, plural, because here’s a scientific fact I’ll bet you didn’t know. Nothing ruins the perfect semester like a super caldera. Now that I’ve made you smarter today, maybe you can tell me how to keep my life cruising in the right direction—no to Mom, yes to roomie, double yes to Hotness!—during a global disaster?

My lame name is Violet and, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m not hanging from the side of a cinder cone on the last page of this trauma, but there’s definitely more to come. Unless, of course, humans become extinct and then there’s not. Duh.

Eruption is on sale for 99 cents. It’ll jump up to $2.99 soon so grab your copy now! http://www.amazon.com/Eruption-YellowblownTM-Book-J-Hughey-ebook/dp/B00MRHAIRO

Enjoy an excerpt from the day the eruption starts:

“You’re starting to freak me out,” I said. Boone looked like he was going to tell me someone had died, but he didn’t know anyone in my family, and surely the Dean of Students would not give him the responsibility of passing on bad news after three weeks of talking.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t decide if I’m freaked out or not.” He took a deep breath. “Yellowstone is erupting.”

I stared at him, not a flicker of comprehension illuminating my dim-bulb mind. Nothing. 

“Yellowstone? The place with the, umm, geysers?” Obviously I’d heard of Yellowstone, never been there, not sure I could place it on a map in the murky part of the U.S. between where I lived and Hollywood.

“Yeah. Yellowstone sits over a hotspot that’s been around for millions of years.”

“Instead of steaming it’s now erupting? As in lava erupting?” We’d covered igneous rocks in a very general way already so I knew hot liquefied rock below the ground was called magma and, when it erupted, became lava.

“Dr. Potter says nobody knows what it’s doing. It blew this morning. I mean explosively blew. All the local sensors went offline. Satellite pictures show a big brown cloud of dust. Like two hundred miles across.”

Boone’s voice shook a fraction. I put my hand on his forearm. He sat back so he could hold it in his.

I asked, “Do you have friends out there, or family?”

“Not close. Dr. Potter knows I’m from Nebraska. He asked me where—made me point to it on a map. He said my family might want to stockpile supplies, or better yet, leave.” He paused, prompting me to scoot to the edge of my seat. “My house is nine hundred miles away from Yellowstone, Violet.”

“Are you serious?”

“He says if it does anything close to what it’s done in the past, thirty percent of the U.S. is pretty well screwed.”

I rifled through my bag to find my tablet. “Show me,” I said. “I need to see a map or something.”

“C’mon,” he said. He took me to Dr. Potter’s office. The professor ignored us. He jabbed his finger at his cell phone to enter a text message. The screen of his laptop glowed with a cascade of open program windows, and his iPad bonged with an incoming email tone. His finger did not pause when Boone led me to an ancient roller-shade map of the US.

“Yellowstone is here. Dr. Potter drew this red circle this morning.”

That’s not coming off any time soon, I thought as I studied the thick line of scarlet Sharpie.

“The last eruption basically obliterated everything within this oval.”

“When?”

“Six hundred thirty thousand years ago,” Dr. Potter muttered. His trendy rectangular glasses sat askew on his nose. He swept his hand toward his laptop’s screen in a disgusted now-look-what-you’ve done gesture. I circled around his desk to see images more current than the one offered by the cartographic fossil on the wall.

A dark mess of chocolate pudding plopped in the midst of the whipped topping clouds of a satellite loop. The mass burgeoned over the northwestern U.S., dry pudding mix edges caught and swept east by the prevailing winds.

Anyone with a grandpa who blares Weather Watcher on the TV all day knows weather moves east.

Apparently, crap shot into the air by Yellowstone moves east, too.

Go get it while it’s 99 cents! http://www.amazon.com/Eruption-YellowblownTM-Book-J-Hughey-ebook/dp/B00MRHAIRO

About The Author

J. Hughey knows what a girl wants. Independence. One or two no-matter-what-happens friends.A smokin’ hot romance.A basic understanding of geological concepts. Huh? Okay, maybe not every girl

is into geology, but J. Hughey is, and in the Yellowblown™ series she combines her passion for a timeless love story with her interest in geeky stuff to help Violet Perch get a life, despite an ongoing global catastrophe.

J. Hughey also writes historical romance as Jill Hughey.

If you want a chance to win some Eruption swag—your choice of a necklace, bracelet or bookmark with cover and series charms, sign up for J. Hughey’s newsletter before September 27. http://www.jillhughey.com/contact. 

You can find out more about J. Hughey on the web.

Website:  www.jillhughey.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/jillhugheyromance

Twitter: www.twitter.com/jillhughey

A Snog for Sommer (#erotica #free @sommermarsden @victoriablisse)

Here at The Velvet Lair we keep tabs on our friends--even our friends' friends! Sommer Marsden, friend of friend Victoria Blisse, is apparently having a bit of a bad time with family illnesses and so on. So the lovely, kind Vicky Blisse is devoting her Sunday Snog blog for 14 Sept to Sommer...so the following is a snog for Sommer (even though I rarely snog girls).

You can help Sommer out by checking out her blog and maybe buying one of her books:
http://sommermarsden.blogspot.co.uk/

And here's a summer snog for Sommer, from Seducing the Hermit:

Valerie saw the unmistakable signs of male need. A flaring of the nostrils. A heated narrowing of Fisher's eyes. She smelled his masculine aroma, an intriguing mixture of sky and forest, with the biting tang of the sea caught in his long, sexy hair.

Yes. The first touch of his firm lips against hers ignited her blood. She turned on as if he’d flicked a switch, and suddenly she felt alive, the way she always felt when she made love. This was the feeling she craved. This was what she lived for. When she touched a beautiful man, it was as though her world morphed from black and white into color. God, she needed this, needed him.

She opened her mouth to let him in. His lips trembled ever-so-slightly against hers and she thought, Hmmm…but whatever conclusions she could have reached got lost when Fisher thrust his tongue into her mouth. One, two, three, four times, deep and hard, the way she liked it, communicating clearly what he wanted, a long, deep, hard fuck. 

Get Seducing the Hermit in print:
http://www.ellorascave.com/seducing-the-hermit-1.html

Or in digital:
http://www.ellorascave.com/seducing-the-hermit.html

This is a blog hop! Find your way to other writers' sexy snogs here:
http://blissekiss.co.uk/

and

http://www.smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/



There's a link on the above page to a PayPal account that's been set up to help Sommer and her family. If you decide to contribute, please send me a screenshot of your PayPal receipt and I will send you any one of my ebooks 
FOR FREE.

A Stable #Spanking from Suz deMello (@MFRW_ORG #SatSpanks #BDSM #erotica)

Confining my blog post to only eight spanky sentences has always been a challenge, but I don't dare break the rules--I might be in line for punishment too!

Today's spanky snippet is from The Wilder Brother, a romantic comedy. Here's what the book is about:

For Colton Wilder, the invitation to his brother’s wedding is an invitation to trouble because Colt, having boinked the bride, knows what she’s really like. He doesn’t want his brother Max marrying selfish, manipulative Nicole Newcombe, a famous supermodel. In his view, Nicole stole the groom from her sister Dana.

For staid scientist Dana Newcombe, the invitation to her identical twin’s wedding is an invitation to humiliation. While Nicole was conniving to steal Max away from Dana, Dana had wild monkey sex in a glass-walled elevator with his brother Colt.

When they meet again at the wedding, she doesn’t want to want Colt, but she can’t help remembering and re-enacting their earlier sexy tryst in oh, so many different ways.

In this excerpt, Nicole has been a very bad girl indeed, and she's getting what she deserves in the horse barn of the Wilder Brothers' farm. Her sister

Dana is watching, and the scene is written from her perspective:

Openmouthed, she watched as Max raised the quirt and swished it down over Nick’s butt. It landed with a decisive rap. 

Dana gasped, desire snapping through her. No, she thought, this can’t be!

Nick moaned and writhed, but didn’t scream no, didn’t get up, didn’t run away. Clearly, this was what she wanted.

Max lashed her again and again, with Nickie’s body jerking with each strike. She lifted her rear up and down, groaning his name, begging, “Oh, Max, oh, Max.”

If you like what you read, buy it here in paperback:

http://www.ellorascave.com/the-wilder-brother-1.html

Or here in digital:

http://www.ellorascave.com/the-wilder-brother.html

Happy reading!

Remember, this is a blog hop. Find other authors' spanky snippets here:

http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/

Try Getting "Together Again" by Wendi Zwaduk

This novella is Book Three in the Naughty Teachers Series

Sometimes the second time around is the right time for things to click.

Corey Murphy never intended to let his wife, Katie, become his ex-wife. But for the Murphys, convention and commitment are foreign concepts. Once he lost Katie, he decided to get his life in order. Now he's healthy, happy with his job teaching physical education and ready to get his relationship back on track. He's got to hope Katie's still willing to give them a chance.

Katie Murphy loved being married. She loved the companionship, the connection...and the hot nights. Being with Corey surpassed even her wildest fantasies. But her ex-husband wasn't big on commitment. She knows he's got ghosts in his past, but is she willing to help him look to the future--their future?

Available at:

http://www.ellorascave.com/together-again.html

Excerpt:

©Wendi Zwaduk, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Once she reached the quiet solace of the bleachers, she plopped onto the first bench. She stared at the banners decorating the rafters in the massive room. Each chunk of red fabric boasted yet another glory from VCH’s past. One of the baseball pennants caught her eye—the one commemorating Corey’s first year as the head baseball coach. They’d gone to state that year. He worried so much until the final game. She chuckled. If he’d have worried about her half as much as he did the team, they’d probably still be married.

They were still friends and he did know her better than anyone. She stood and headed to his office. The sooner they talked, the faster they’d be able to move on.

Her stomach churned. The thought of Corey being with someone else stung her pride. She liked having the title of Mrs. Corey Murphy. The students liked him and the team flourished under his tutelage. The other faculty members enjoyed his sense of humor, too. Some of her student teachers mentioned taking the advanced physical education class because of Corey. Not that she blamed them—the man was hot.

For being thirty-seven, he still looked no more than twenty-eight. His time spent in the gym lifting weights definitely showed. He should’ve been able to find another woman. Her skin warmed at the thought of his arms around her. She could almost hear his gravelly voice as he spoke in her ear, telling her all of the decadent things he wanted to do with her. Only Corey knew about her desire to be spanked. He’d been the one person she played with and bared her soul to. She missed his hand on her ass and the way he pulled her hair during sex. Hell, she missed making love to the man in her heart.

She stopped just outside his doorway. She knew part of his reason for staying in the same place. He lacked self-confidence when on his own. He claimed he couldn’t commit. She knew better. There were no affairs during their marriage or prior relationship and he claimed he’d never stopped loving her. So why not stay together? She snorted. The gibberish his father spouted about men being unable to commit—that’s what screwed Corey up.

They’d also ended the relationship too fast. There were too many things left unsaid and too much unfinished. Once they sorted out their collective past, they could find a decent future.

Hopefully they’d find that future together. 

About the author...in her own words:

I’ve always dreamt of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line.  I love playing with words

and letting the characters run wild.

NASCAR, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, animals and second chance romance  all feature prominently in my books.  I also write under the pen name of Megan Slayer. I’m published with Total-E-Bound, Resplendence Publishing, Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books, Turquoise Morning Press, Decadent Publishing and Ellora’s Cave. Come join me for this fantastic journey!  

If you like my work, tell your friends and email me. I love hearing from readers!

Email: theauthorwendizwaduk (AT) gmail (DOT) com

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