Friday, July 31, 2015

A Hot Morning After from Fashion Victim by (yep!!) Suz deMello (#boxset #99cents)

     My assignment this week is to give you a hot morning after from one of my books. I've picked a hot and tasty morning after from Fashion Victim, which is in the Book Boyfriends Cafe's Summer Lovin' boxed set. 

Here's the blurb: 

Hot isn't a hot enough word to describe corporate raider Fletcher Wolf, but since he's suing couturier Cara Fletcher for, oh, a gazillion dollars, she figures she shouldn't hit on him…at least not too hard.

On top of that, she wonders if he's responsible for the harassment and vandalism that's plaguing her, irritants that escalate into crimes when her workshop is trashed to the tune of a hundred thousand dollars. The economic damage enables him to seize her company, bringing him into her life on a daily basis. When her Manhattan loft home is torched and her assistant murdered, Cara realizes that the man she wants is the only man who can keep her safe.

And here's the hot morning after:

Sunlight streaming through the yellow curtains awakened me. Seated on the side of our bed, Fletch pressed a phone to his ear with one hand and held one of his ever-present guidebooks in the other.
Nescafe, per favore, e panna. No, no, caffe nero. La panna separamente, per favore. Sí, accanto. Miele a panino, uh, panini. Um, frutta.” He flipped pages frantically while I struggled not to giggle. “Not frutta. Frutti, um, macedonia di frutta.” He put the phone down. “If we end up with dinosaur eggs for breakfast, I apologize. Next time, the Radisson.”
“No way. Does the Radisson have brocade couches and giant antique bathtubs? I love this place.”
“Then we’ll come back every year. Buon giorno, Carissima. Sleep well?” He leaned over and kissed me. It was a long, lingering sweet one.

Of course, I kissed back. “Mmm-hmm. And you?”
“Oh yeah, except that a wild woman attacked me over and over last night.” He caressed my breast with a broad, open palm.
I grinned. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
“Oh, I didn’t. But I didn’t get much rest. I might have to stay in bed today just to make up for my lost sleep.”
A few minutes later, a knock at the door signaled that breakfast had arrived, and he grabbed the hotel’s toweling robe before going to the suite’s door. He returned pushing a cart loaded with fragrant food: coffee, rolls, honey, and fruit compote served in cut crystal bowls.
I sat up in bed, ignoring my nakedness. Last night’s mullet hadn’t hit the spot—nowhere near it, really—and I was starving. I let the sheet crumple around my waist as I reached for a roll.
“Slow down, my little piglet. You’ll get food in the bed.”
“So what? There’s another one.” I bit, letting, crumbs scatter. The roll tasted delicious, crunchy on the outside, but soft and sweet within, redolent with herbs.
“Good point. Mmm. I think I’ll have my breakfast right here.” He leaned over and licked crumbs off my nipples. They promptly hardened.
I dropped the roll.
He said, “Tasty, but I can make it even better. Lie down, baby.” He stuck a
spoon in the crystal honey pot, then dribbled the gooey mess onto my chest.
“What are you doing?” Startled, I tried to get up.
His firm hand forced me back down onto the pillows. “I’m just making a little breakfast.”
Something inside me shook, trembled. “This is, this is too weird for me.”
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Using both hands, he rubbed honey into my breasts, mixing it with the crumbly roll.
Whoa. Bits of bread rasped my nipples. Then Fletcher’s warm, wet mouth sucked one tip hard, then moved to the other breast. His morning beard grazed the soft valley between my breasts while a sticky hand slid behind one knee, spreading me wide.
More honey dripped, this time onto the nest of curls at my delta. As the honey warmed with contact, it became slicker, I was.

I stretched and arched. Random morsels of bread scratched my back, my thighs, as he kissed honey from between my legs. The rub of his tongue pushing a bread crumb across my most sensitive flesh took me out of my mind. Languid and soft, I opened myself to him as he rose above me, pressing his erection against me before he moved inside. He rubbed sticky hands up and down my breasts as he thrust. He sank in, gasping.

Hot enough for ya?
If you like what you read, here's where you can score a copy, along with eleven other wonderful stories in the boxed set:  

Remember, this is a blog hop! Find other talented writers' hot mornings after here: 

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Tangled (in) Bliss with Rebecca Airies

Chelsea Ash healed plants, but she can't fix her own problems. Alexander Woods, a gorgeous, new deputy in town and her boyfriend, refuses to talk about part of his past, leaving her wondering what he's hiding. On top of that, a stalker is sending her creepy gifts and stealing her sense of safety.

Alexander is building a new life in Alden Glen. He wants a home after years of hunting the tainted. Chelsea is sexy, sweet and the sensual hunger explodes between them. He's not walking away from her. Even as they untangle the mess of their relationship, the stalker escalates his attacks. Alex will have to use all his skills to protect Chelsea and claim the future he's always wanted.

Tangled Bliss contains scorching sex scenes and adult language. It’s intended for adults 18 and over.

Here's an excerpt to tickle your fancy, or whatever you want tickled:

Chelsea turned into the drive of her little cottage in the trees. Bright pink, blue and yellow flowers bordered the driveway. She stopped at the side of her cream-colored house.

Even as she gathered her things, her mind already focused on the long, hot shower she planned. It was good to be home. She looked forward to a great date with Alexander tonight. The thought that it might be one of the last dates she had with him did depress her.

Unless the man began revealing more about himself. With a sigh, she shook her head. She didn’t see that happening without some drastic intervention.

She got out of the car and walked up the flower-lined path. The scent of roses surrounded her, making her feel at home. Just before the front step, a sudden wave of nausea hit her. She took a deep breath. The sick sensation continued, but it didn’t come from within her.

She stopped and focused. The troubling impressions came from her left. She looked at a rose bush near the corner of her porch. Something different about the feel of the plant pulled her toward the bush.

She frowned when she saw the problem. The leaves drooped. Yellow blotches discolored the vibrant green foliage. The energy pulsing from it wasn’t normal, even from a sick plant. Something was off.

What the hell had happened to it? The leaves had been fine this morning. They’d been vibrant green. Several buds had stood tall, reaching for the sun. She’d looked forward to watching the petals unfold.

Now, those same unopened flowers sagged. The sepals, which protected the petals, had withered. This was not normal.

Especially for the home and surroundings of an Aelfir gifted with the ability to heal and grow plants. 

A brush of her fingers could open closed blooms. The transfer of energy into the plant could help mend disease or breaks in stems and branches.

She itched to heal those plants, but the sudden withering struck her as strange. She wanted it checked by someone who could detect the type of energies within the plant.

Maybe she was being too cautious. On the other hand, maybe not. After the weird letters and gifts sent to her, she didn’t want to take the chance.

Chelsea would call as soon as she made sure that was the only thing wrong. She headed into her house, passing through the living room and into the dining room. One step into the room, she stopped. 

She stared at the dining table. Her breath caught in her throat.

A wrapped gift sat on gleaming dark brown wood. A green ribbon wrapped around the stark white box. An elegant bow perched on top of the package.

Her stomach dropped. Nausea and dread rose. Fear sent a shiver skating down her spine. Someone had been inside her house.

Available at  Amazon

About the author:

Rebecca Airies writes paranormal, fantasy and sci-fi/futuristic romance. She loves reading, writing, crafting, a good cup of tea, chocolate and snuggly kitties. She's been writing stories since she was in her teens, at first trying to get over that elusive hump and finish a story. She loves creating new worlds, especially anything paranormal and fantasy related. You can usually find her working on multiple WIP at a time and she likes nothing more than losing herself in those worlds and characters.


Friday, July 3, 2015

Swoon-Worthy or Not? A #Sexy Encounter from One #Hot #Havana Night

This week's assignment from the Book Boyfriends Cafe is to give you, dear readers, a swoon-worthy line from our sexy heroes. I hope I don't disappoint.

Here's a line from One Hot Havana Night, in which all Ellie Wheeler's dreams come true--even ones she didn't know she had.

He was close enough to touch, so touch he did, stroking his finger along the exact curve he’d caressed before. Perhaps he’d seen her react, and the same thing happened. A tingling spurt of heat flamed along the line he drew, and this time he didn’t stop, continuing down into her bodice between her breasts. He rubbed his fingertip in the sweat that had gathered in her cleavage, then pulled out his finger and licked it.

Her eyes widened.

Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear, “I love a sexy woman’s salty sweat.” He put an arm around her, dragging her close, and nipped her lobe. 

Soooo...swoon-worthy or not? It certainly rocked Ellie's world! But if you want to read what happened next, score your copy here--along with ten other sexy tales to chase away those summertime blues.

Remember, this is a blog hop! Check out other swoon-worthy heroes here:

Thursday, July 2, 2015

The Heroes We Love: Christina Tetreault and the Sherbrookes of Newport

What kind of hero do you love? When it comes to romance novels there is no shortage of heroes to pick from. Readers can fall in love with everything from dukes and earls to cowboys and firemen. Personally, I am not picky. I love them all. However, there are certain traits or characteristics a hero must have for me to fall in love with him.

Regardless of whether the hero is a rich billionaire or the fireman living next door, in my opinion the hero must treat the heroine right. What does that mean? Well, first of all no matter how good-looking he is, he cannot be verbally or physically abusive. To me there is nothing romantic about that. A second must for me is that the hero must also be faithful to the heroine in the story. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t a playboy in the past, but it does mean that while he is with the heroine in the story he must be faithful. He can’t keep a mistress on the side or sleep with the heroine’s best friend while she’s at work.

Since these are these are the traits I look for when reading, these are some of the traits I instill in my characters when I am writing.  In my upcoming novel More Than A Billionaire, which is the 6th book in my series The Sherbrookes of Newport, Grayson Sherbrooke treats the heroine the way every woman should be treated.

When you read what kind of hero do you like? Does he need to have certain traits? Are there certain characteristics that drive you crazy if the hero has them?


When Grayson Sherbrooke returns to Providence for his brother’s wedding, he plans to spend some time with his family before getting back to his own life. A single dance with his childhood friend, Kiera Renault, changes all that. Soon, Gray finds himself longing to settle down with the woman he loves. Unfortunately, the secret he’s kept for years keeps getting in the way.

Kiera Renault hasn’t seen Gray in years. After a dance at his brother’s wedding, though, she can’t get him from her mind. Quickly, their relationship changes from mere friends to lovers, and Kiera pictures herself spending the rest of her life with Gray.

Just when they both believe they’ll get what their hearts’ desire, Gray’s secret threatens to tear them apart forever. Now, Gray must decide between the woman he loves and the secret he has kept from the world.

Buy Links: Barnes and Noble

 In her own words: About Christina Tetreault

I started writing at the age of 10 on my grandmother's manual typewriter and never stopped. When I am not driving my 3 daughters (ages 8, 6, and 6) around to their various activities or chasing around our three dogs, I am working on a story or reading a romance novel. Currently, I have two series out, The Sherbrookes of Newport and Love on The North Shore. You can visit my website or follow me on Facebook to learn more about my characters and to track my progress on my current writing projects.

Author Links:
Twitter: @cgricci

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Read a Hot New Boxed Set! NAUGHTY ESCAPES celebrates summer vacations!

Yes, the Naughty Literati have done it again!

We are very proud of our latest boxed set,  Naughty Escapes. Each of our eleven stories features hot lovers in a hot locale. Take a literary trip from Paris to Havana, from the beautiful beaches of Barcelona to swanky San Francisco. Enjoy love in all its variety--from vanilla committed couples to swinging menages--we have it all.

Here's a little about my story, One Hot Havana Night:

Havana, 1958... On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had.

Guess what? It includes a sexy M/F/M ménage.

Here’s an excerpt to sharpen your appetite:

The big doors closed behind her with a click.

She turned to see Almonte leaning against them, eyeing her with predatory interest gleaming in his dark eyes. Her belly fluttered. She’d exposed corrupt union bosses and crooked politicians, but this was really the first time she’d played with the big boys. Organized crime was nothing to treat casually, and she’d thought she was ready.

Maybe not.

He stalked toward her. “Take that stupid thing off. It fools no one.” He tugged at her wig.

“Ow!” She put a hand up to her head to stop him. “My hair clashes dreadfully with my dress.”

 “Then take off your dress.” He slid one long, dark finger along the curve of her neck to her shoulder. The contact tingled in a way she hadn’t before experienced. “Strip for me.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide.

He laughed. “I thought you said anything for the story. You knew what would happen when you came up here. Shall we not pretend?”

She swallowed hard. How had she gotten into this predicament?

By being Hell on Wheels. Everyone thought she was brassy and bold. They had no idea she was still a virgin.

Here’s where you can score a copy!

Join in the naughty fun at our Twitter party by searching for #naughtyescapes! Tweet with the authors and win prizes galore!