Saturday, June 22, 2019

The Tattoo Artist's Mate by Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan...


The Tattoo Artist's Mate
by
Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan
Book one, Bare Ink Alley

Hi there and thank you for welcoming me to your blog, on this bittersweet occasion. (this is Raven)
As most people know, my bestie, the sister I’d never had, the other half of me, the lovely Doris O’Connor passed away in January from Cancer of an unknown primary.
To say this knocked me for six is an understatement. We knew it wasn’t going to be a good outcome, but it happened so fast. Those of you who followed her on Facebook and twitter will know how it went.
Ironically, she rang me to tell me, just as I was…at a large supermarket collecting for cancer research!
When she went into hospital she was in pain and bored. Nagging me over my Regencies (finish it already, write the sex, just do it) and wondering how to pass the time.
I remember a germ of an idea we’d had a couple of years ago about a tattoo artist who was a shifter. Wrote the first bit and sent it to her with a note…over to you…
I got a giggle gif and a thumbs up. Then Doris’ words. It was, I was told up to me to amalgamate everything.
So the Skype messages went back and forth, and we plotted the story, wrote it both in sequence and odd scenes we knew had to go in somewhere.
Until the time she was in too much pain to write any more. But she did make me promise to finish the book. Add as much as was needed, but finish it.
 So I did.
This is the result of our collaboration.
I have two hope…okay three.
One, you enjoy it,
Two you can’t see the seams,
Three we sell lots and lots and lots and give Doris a fabulous best seller send off.


Blurb:
When Isla Campbell leaves her so-called Dom, she is determined never to sub again. All she wants is her tattoo removed and to live a quiet life with no dominant, or domineering men in it.
Until she meets Gaspar MacDonald, tattoo artist and unbeknown to her, a bear shifter.
Isla calls to Gaspar in the most basic of ways, he knows she is his mate.
Now all he has to do is persuade Isla of that fact. Oh and explain he’s a Dom, and a shifter, and that subbing for your Dom is not what she thought it was, but much better.
Will Isla trust him enough to discover if they have what would be the perfect match?

Fancy a wee tease?
Here you go…
~~ . I didn’t get a chance to answer. I was too busy trying not to come as he kissed and then sucked my nipples, and saints above, began to play with my clit. Oh Lordy, so bloody good. I think I moaned, but to be honest, I was drowning in the sensation so I had no idea.
Somehow, I managed to find his cock and stroke it. It was Noah’s turn to moan now.
“Fuck it, I want to be in you. Need to be in you, and I’ve no bloody condoms.” He moved away a bit and I took advantage of the fact to get onto my knees, take his cock into my mouth, and lave it.
Not a boy scout then.
“On the pill,” I mumbled around a mouthful of hot, hard, but soft as silk, male flesh. “Clean, and fuck it, fill me.” I took one long hard pull on his dick and let go with a plop. Better than an ice lolly any day.
Noah didn’t hesitate, thank goodness, and had me on my back and his cock poised at the entrance to my channel faster than I could say climax.
“Got to be now, love.” 
Just as well. 
He pushed. I clenched my inner muscles—thank goodness for Kegel exercises—and held him tight. Noah swore and laughed. I grinned and we set up that age-old motion of in, out, tighten, release until I felt him swell even more inside me.
My nipples hurt in the best possible way.
“Sheesh, now got to be, oh Lord, help please…” I was almost incoherent, sobbing, throbbing, and any other ing you could mention. It was pleasure, it was pain, it was…
“Now!” Noah roared, and his hot, sticky release filled me.
“Yes.” I let myself fly and saw stars as my climax hit me with all the subtlety of a baseball hit by a champion. 
Yeah, I was a screamer. Did I care? Not one bit. I moaned, groaned, and wriggled as well. Loved it all.~~

 

you can get hold of Gaspar from:
Amazon. com             https://amzn.to/2FjgY86
Amazon Uk                https://amzn.to/2KWi5Ou
            Smashwords               https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/944640 
Bookstrand                 https://www.bookstrand.com/book/the-tattoo-artists-mate-mf 
Kobo                           https://www.kobo.com/au/en/ebook/the-tattoo-artist-s-mate

  
If you do decide to read this, the first story in Bare Alley ink, and like it, love it or tolerate it, We’d love a review. No pressure, just lots of love,
Raven xx

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

In Between by Lynn Burke...


In Between
by
Lynn Burke

Genre: MMF Erotic Romance
Release Date: June 17, 2019

BLURB:

After his stepfather nearly ruins both his family name and business, Damien Fiorenza becomes suspicious of everyone—except for his long-time partner, Ethan Lord. He doesn’t trust people in authority, much less the woman who weasels her way into his walled-up heart, alongside his lover of fifteen years.

Ethan dislikes his empathic abilities, especially since they allow him to feel his mother’s indifference toward him, her only son. Damien, however, has always made Ethan feel needed, appreciated, and protected—but he can’t voice what Ethan is desperate to hear. Falling for their new secretary is unexpected, but she encourages and supports him in ways Damien won’t.

Shaylia Bright’s father chose his secret family over her and her mother. Ever since, she’s striven to be the best she can be, unable to stomach being second best. Although an office romance is taboo, she can’t deny the passionate chemistry among the three of them and finds herself drawn to both her bosses.

A dark and deep secret from the past forces Damien to raise his defenses. Haunting revelations tear everyone apart, dooming Shaylia to second best and Ethan to an incomplete life. Wrought with insecurity and stubbornness, can they find the courage to accept parts of their painful past in order to forge a path together, toward a happily ever after?



PURCHASE LINKS: 


EXCERPT:

I stared up at Ethan as he asked me if I was okay, and knowing I stood on the brink of a cliff, the bottom far from sight, I hesitated before nodding.
His hold on my waist tightened as he squeezed, his smile flooding my heart. He glanced over my head—at Damien behind me—and I wondered at the silent communication between them.
Ethan returned his focus to me, to my mouth and released one hand on my hip to slide up to cradle the back of my head as Damien’s hand settled where his had vacated. “Can I kiss you?”
Damien’s touch singed through my capris, and I swallowed a rush of saliva as my heart pounded in my ears. “Yes.”
I wondered at my need to hurry, to rise to my tiptoes to close the distance between us, but couldn’t help myself. I’d missed him, his touch more than I’d thought. The softness, the gentle caress of his lips lightened my head and nearly caved my chest in with the depletion of anxiety.
Zero doubt I belonged to Ethan raged through my body, heightening my already racing pulse. I grabbed hold of his head and sank into him as he slid his tongue into my mouth, weakening my knees.
The brush of Damien against my back raced fire over my skin, pebbling every inch, exposed and beneath clothing. A shift of my hips pressed my ass against his thighs, and he groaned as his hard length rubbed against my lower back.
Forget fire—lava rushed through my veins, and I shuddered, pulling away from Ethan’s mouth, gasping for breath. “I-I’ve never done this before,” I somehow managed to say before trembling took over my body.
“We’ll take things slow,” Ethan whispered, brushing my hair back from my face.
If that’s what you want,” Damien added, the heat of his breath lifting the hairs on my nape.
I bit back a moan as he sandwiched me fully between the two men, tempting all thought to flutter from my mind. My head tipped back onto Damien’s shoulder as I fought to slow my pulse, to catch my breath. He leaned in and kissed Ethan right beside my face.
Kissed Ethan … inches from my face.
Both groaned, and my core liquefied as I stared at their hungry mouths, tongues, and teeth, appearing in flashes as they devoured one another, grinding against me as though I was a conduit between their bodies.
All strength left me, and I sagged between their hardness, my pussy pulsing, thighs squeezing to ease the ache in my clit. I bit my lip at Ethan’s moan, his surrender to Damien’s hold on his hair and control of the kiss.
I’d said I hadn’t come to their condo for sex, but hell if I could think of anything else at that moment.
 © Lynn Burke 2018

 

AUTHOR BIO:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.


AUTHOR LINKS:


Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Yay!...

So excited - book #22 has just been accepted by my publisher!  It's called A Wolf's Tale and should be out August/Sept.


Contract signed. It's a fantasy/shifter romance for a change. Haven't written paranormal stuff for a while so it's a nice change.

When veterinarian Emily Brownstone, 55, found a poisoned wolf on the roadside, she didn’t realise the chain of events that would follow.
Someone was trying to kill off the native wildlife and Emily’s action in saving the wolf would threaten her life but would also bring her the man of her dreams.
Tate Collins, 57, couldn’t believe his luck—he’s finally met his soul mate after all these years. All he had to do was tell her his secret—and it was a big one! He just hoped she wouldn’t freak out.

Monday, June 10, 2019

Open by Elyzabeth M Valey...


Open 
by 
Elyzabeth M Valey


One day she’d be his.
Almost a decade ago, Marcus Grimes worked as a bodyguard to a man who didn’t deserve the woman he’d had. When she finally left, Marcus vowed to eventually find her and make her his.

The time is now.

Marcus runs into Gabi at a BDSM club, indulging in a different partner every week but never really exploring beyond the mere superficial. She doesn’t remember him, and he convinces her to give him a chance.

All she has to do is open.


After leaving an abusive relationship, Gabi moved cities and reinvented herself. Now, she’s confident and capable of playing with any Dom she sees fit without compromising herself or her emotions.

Until she meets Marcus Grimes.

There is something familiar about him, which should have stopped her, but instead spurs her on, and before she realizes it, Marcus is not only opening her body to his exploration, he’s also delving into her heart.

However, when their mutual past comes to light and everything she’s fought for during the last eight years is jeopardized, will she close herself off again or will she give love an opportunity?
Be Warned: BDSM, flogging, sex toys

Buy now:



Excerpt:
Marcus sipped at his soda, wishing it were something stronger so his libido would subside. Who was he kidding? Looking at her would get him aroused regardless of the amounts of alcohol he drank.
She was perfect. Everything he’d ever fantasized about: luscious curves, ample bottom, tits which would fit his hands, and a mouth made for sucking and screaming out his name.
Gabi. Her last name was of no consequence. Neither was her first name. Years ago, he’d known her as Abby. What mattered was that when he made her his, he’d refer to her as “kitten”. He’d called her it once, by accident. The term had come naturally. Back then, she had been vulnerable, small, like an abandoned pet. Now, however, he stood in the presence of a different type of cat. She was graceful, strong, seductive.
Unfortunately, unlike cats, which tended to be more snobbish when it came to choosing an owner, Gabi played with just about everyone. She was a regular at the BDSM club where he’d found her. One night, he’d see her getting a spanking, the next, a caning, and another day, she was being whipped. There didn’t seem to be anything Gabi wouldn’t try, except sticking with the same partner. She had a different Dom every weekend, playing with them at a distance, never really giving in to the experience. He knew why, and he was determined to change it. Starting tonight.
Currently, she was tied to the Saint Andrew’s cross, and Master Eric was giving her a good flogging. The Dom played her like an instrument, knowing exactly where to hit to make her skin tingle but not bruise. Marcus scowled. When they played, he’d make sure to mark her so every time she sat down, she would remember him and how her body had yielded to her Dom’s touch.
Marcus downed the last of his drink and moved closer to the cross. It’d been close to eight years since he’d last seen her. Eight years. He sometimes thought they had been wasted years, but deep down, he knew they hadn’t. After what she’d gone through, she’d needed the time to heal and become the person she was now.
In all that time, he’d never stopped wanting her. He’d been incapable of erasing her from his mind even after he’d lost track of her whereabouts. And then, fate had thrown her in his path. He’d finally decided to join the BDSM community in the city, and he’d found her. Here of all places. In his city.
One look at her and he’d made up his mind. Gabi would be his. Permanently this time. He’d bided his time, investigating her present, trying to find out more about who she was today. Every weekend for the past month, he’d come to the club and watched her. He’d leave with a hard-on and a desperate craving to claim her.
Tonight would be different. Eric was almost done, each stroke of the flogger turning into a caress until it came to a full stop. Gabi shuddered and hung her head. Marcus stiffened. Was she okay? Eric seemed to think the same because he hurried forward and whispered in her ear. Gabi nodded. Eric chuckled. Giving her ass a light tap, he began to undo the restraints.
Marcus clenched his fists. Soon, he’d be the only one spanking Gabi’s behind. He waited patiently for them to finish. His heart hammered in his chest, and sweat gathered at his nape. He hadn’t been so on edge in years.
Finally, Gabi became free and turned around. Marcus’s breath caught. She wasn’t naked, but she didn’t need to be to get his dick hardening. He focused on her mouth. Wide with plump lips. How many times had he fantasized about having them around his dick? Fucking her mouth. Marcus swallowed a groan.
Soon.
Eric blocked his view, stepping in front of Gabi to give her a hug. She smiled politely, but there was no affection in her gaze. She was merely being civil. Marcus smirked. They wouldn’t end their sessions with a friendly pat. Finally, Eric left. Before Gabi could also leave, Marcus approached her. She saw him coming, her gaze narrowing and her lips parting into a coquettish smirk. He couldn’t wait to make it sincere. 
“Gabi?”
“That’s me. What can I call you, handsome?”
“Marcus will do for now.”
She pouted, feigning disappointment.
“Shame, I thought you were a Dom.”
Marcus grinned. “I am.”
“And you don’t want me to call you Sir or Master? Do you prefer Daddy?” She ran her fingertips across his forearm making goosebumps sprout on his flesh. Marcus pulled away.
“If the men you’ve been playing with require you call them Sir after barely ten seconds of interaction, you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”
She shrugged, her gaze dipping then just as quickly meeting his again.
“So, why are we having this conversation, Marcus?”
“I would like to play with you.”
Gabi quirked an eyebrow. “And you don’t want me to call you ‘Sir’?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, I’m done for today, so maybe next time,”
He grabbed her wrist. Her eyes blazed.
“Release me.”
“In a minute, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that. I didn’t give you the right.”
“Forgive me,” Marcus apologized. “You’re right.” He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head to look at him even though she wasn’t much shorter. “You have to understand, Gabi, I don’t want to play with you right now. I want to get to know you a bit before I make you kneel at my feet, open up that pretty little mouth of yours and stuff it with my cock until you gag.”

Available at:


About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters' darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.


When she's not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends. 





Follow her at:
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Saturday, June 01, 2019

Hypnotizing Beat by Katherine McIntyre...

Hypnotizing Beat
by
Katherine McIntyre

Buy links: 

Blurb: 

Danica Maslanka is a survivalist at heart, and after the way she screwed over the guys of Discord's Desire in their time of need, Trevor Arceneaux wants nothing to do with her. Except when their tour brings them to Sin City and they run into Danica once more, he can’t get the leannan sidhe off his mind.

She’s in dire straits, hunted by the same man who enslaved Trevor for most of his life. He doesn’t trust her for a heartbeat, but he also can’t turn away someone in such a similar circumstance as his own. As their path leads them closer to a confrontation against his former owner, Trevor's loathing for Danica strips away until he finds himself falling for the tough, independent woman. Danica betrayed them once, but as something real blossoms between them, if she backstabs them this time, his trust will be shattered for good.

Excerpt: 
The moment he turned the corner, Trevor froze.
She sat at the bar wielding an appletini like a weapon, and the trim black dress she wore clung to her lithe form like it’d been painted on. The neon blue scarf around her neck and matching heels fit her style to a T, accenting glossy chestnut locks pulled into a chignon and sharp, inquisitive eyes that sliced like a knife. The leannan sidhe’s pointed ears and elfin features were the only tip offs of her fae heritage, since she could blend even without the glamour veil that kept humans unaware of their kind.
The sight of Danica Maslanka delivered a one-two punch to the stomach, the reminder of the smoking ruin way things left off between them.

Trevor lifted the gin and tonic as he approached. “So, let me guess, poisoned?”
Her plum lips quirked in a pert grin. When they’d first met, he’d found her stunning, but nothing painted someone in shades of ugly like betrayal. “Like I’d be so classless to offer a poisoned drink. I was looking for a way to chat one-on-one, and I figured if I sent an email, you’d ignore it.”
“You’d be right.” Trevor took a seat beside her. He did trust that she hadn’t poisoned the drink—the woman wasn’t a killer, she just possessed no ounce of moral fortitude. Like he should’ve expected more from one of his kind. When Ky’s brother Larsen Blackmore targeted the band, sending mercenaries after them six months ago, Danica had showed up with a similar vendetta and they’d joined forces.
Until Ky got kidnapped and Danica ditched. She had Larsen in her sights and nailing him to a cross meant more than saving their lead singer. The last time they heard from her, she hung up on Liz while Ky was the worst sort of screwed. Trevor’s blood heated all over again, and he took a sip of the gin and tonic to cool his nerves.
He met her eyes, not betraying an ounce of the bitterness. “What’s so important you needed to stalk me all the way to Vegas. Not a close drive from San Fran.”
Danica glanced away, her gaze flickering to the columns behind the bar. “San Francisco and I are on the outs. Besides, my staff has always been urging me to take a vacation, so I figured now would be a fantastic time.”
Bull. Shit.
“Wouldn’t Los Angeles be better real estate for your talents?” Trevor asked. If she wanted to play around, he’d indulge. After all, whatever reason brought her to him couldn’t have been a good one. “There’s more glitz than talent around here.” A leannan sidhe like her fed from artists in the same way Ky and Renn siphoned energy from sex and passion. He just leeched off of the crowds’ energy, so playing shows offered the perfect medium.

“And miss out on the chance to grab a drink with legendary guitarist Trevor Arceneaux? Never.” She placed a hand to her chest in mock surprise, the sarcasm fluid as a stream mid-storm. He had to give her credit for thoroughness—he kept his last name off the internet, so she must’ve gone an alternate route to obtain the information.
Trevor took a sip from his drink, the coolness gliding down his throat like relief. Not like he’d reached some state of calm. If anything, Danica’s presence hotwired his emergency alarms to constant alert. The woman didn’t act without motivation and ultimately placed her agenda above all else.
“How’s your sister doing?” he asked. Two could tango along the knife’s edge.
Danica’s gaze sharpened, if possible. The heartless woman had her weaknesses, no matter how she tried to downplay or hide them. After all—she had never been the one with a personal vendetta against Larsen. Everything she’d done was for the sake of her sister.
“She’d be better if she could get a seat at one of your shows,” Danica responded, trilling sweet as a sparrow. “A little birdie told me your show at the Joint tomorrow night is already sold out. When did you boys go from garage band blues to Rolling Stones?”
 Avoidance of the highest order—that had been Danica’s game from the moment they met her. Too bad for her he’d played the game for as long as he could remember. Whatever roundabouts she took, he’d follow, until he managed to suss out her motivations for tracking him here.
“The bar’s set for sleazy in Vegas, and that’s the reputation we’ve cultivated for ourselves.” Trevor took another sip from his drink, the icy gin trickling down his throat. Not like the liquor did anything to sate the thread of exhaustion pulling tighter in him each passing day, ready to snap at any moment.
Danica’s eyes narrowed. She stared past him, and the back of his neck prickled.
“We’re being watched,” she murmured, her lips barely moving. She placed her appletini on the bar.

Previous book: Captivating Melody (Discord’s Desire #1)

Buy link: books2read.com/u/bMavMa

Cross a satyr, a siren, and an incubus with rock and roll, and you get Discord’s Desire, a band of panty-dropping hellions whose live shows incite orgies. Of course, their booking manager, Liz O’Brien, gets saddled with the monumental task of keeping the boys in line. She’s not your average chick, resistant to glamour of the fae and fame variety, which only makes her more tempting to their lead singer, Kieran Blackmore. With his incubus charms, silken voice, and GQ looks, he could have any girl he wants—except Liz. She doesn’t do serious flings, and she’s determined to keep things professional. 

However, when Kieran’s brother sends hitmen after the band, Liz discovers others with her abilities—hunters, who just declared themselves enemies of the fae. Liz leans on Kieran for support, who proves his dedication at every step. Fae mercenaries might attack post-show, but Liz has her Beretta to handle that. What terrifies her more than any monster chasing after them is how she’s falling for Kieran. Her deep feelings trigger every ‘run-away’ sensor in her foster kid handbook, and worse, with war brewing between the hunters and the fae, their love can only end in heartbreak.


About Katherine (in her own words):
I split my time writing and working my day job as a massage therapist. If it’s a creative pursuit though, chances are I’ve dabbled in it. Hell, I’ve played around with soapmaking, beer brewing, cupcake baking, tea blending and everything else under the midday sun. At the end of the day, my constant is always reading, writing and editing. I’m an Aries-Taurus cusp–which to any astrology buffs should tell you plenty.
I hit the East Coast convention circuit pretty hard and chances are, you can find me vending for Solstice Brews while simultaneously promoting my books. As for more journalistic writing, I’m the founder, an editor, and a writer on Caffeine Crew.
Upon further thought–you can find that description of me anywhere. Here’s the real deal, folks, ugly traits and all:
I’ve got no patience. None. I want to race through life as fast as I can, and smash down the hurdles that crop up. Patience was something I took a long time learning and I still struggle with.
On top of that, I’m sometimes socially awkward. You know Willow in Buffy? Yeah, that’s me. Fumbly mumbly and sometimes speaking a mile a minute because I’m nervous talking and have no clue what I’m saying. Even though I’m an extrovert, I grew up a shy kid, and I’ve never been able to easy into conversations/situations the same way some folks effortlessly do.
And I’m emotional as get all. I. Feel. Everything. I’m the friend that when you’ve got good news is screaming and hugging and jumping up and down. I’m also the friend that when I’m mad, frustrated, sad, or anything can’t hide it. Folks know something’s wrong with me when I’m quiet, or when I’m not enthusiastic. Hence why I’ve been referred to as Leslie Knope before–I throw my all into everything I do–friendship, relationships, writing, you name it.
Ho boy, now here comes the tough stuff. I’m constantly reaching out, and I always need people, and because of that tendency, I get severely lonely. That’s probably my number one issue, and always has been, is my battle with loneliness and how to overcome it. My husband and I call it my ‘I have no friends’ grumps, and I go through it every other month or so. Even though logically, this is far from the case–I have so many wonderful people in my life who I’m honored to know.
Last but not least, this is something you’ll see in a lot of my writing, which is why it’s important to share. While I like to explore real aspects of life, I’m not a dweller in tragedy. I’m hopeful as anything, and believe the best in everyone. I don’t want to dwell on the pain, sadness, and misery. I want to live in the forests where the distant burbles of a beautiful stream thread through. I want to live in the hearts of people who care, who show compassion to one another, and prove that we humans can get something right. I want to explore how even though we’ve all got the ability to fuck up, and even though sad things happen, that we can overcome them and rise to be triumphant.

So there it is, folks–that’s me.