Molly Ann Wishlade & 'A Rancher for Rosie' @misswishlade @LoveBitesSilk #Western #romance

Author: Molly Ann Wishlade Title: A Rancher for Rosie Series: The Duggans of Montana Number in series: #2 Publisher: Totally Bound

Today we have Rosie visiting from the story A Rancher for Rosie. Welcome!
Could you tell me a bit about your story?
* My story takes up where Catherine and Kenan’s left off at the end of Harlot at the Homestead. While the men were out on the cattle trail, I remained at the homestead with the heavily pregnant Catherine. Having never had a child of my own, or helped a woman in labor before, I was terrified and in need of assistance.
What is your idea of a perfect day?
* Being with my family and Joshua at the homestead. I’m happiest taking care of the people I love and I can’t bear to be away from them at all, which is why some of the decisions I make in the story are so hard for me to deal with.
What makes you sad?
* Pain, loss, seeing others suffering.
What was it about Joshua Hampton that made you fall in love with him?
* I can’t deny that Joshua is incredibly handsome, but my feelings for him run far deeper than that. He is a warm and compassionate human being. Even though he is younger than me by some years, we see things in the same way and want the same things. He’s passionate, loyal and devoted to me and my family. What more could a woman ask for?
What’s next for you?
* Well, I can’t give too much away and tell you if I do get my happy ever after, but you’ll certainly see more of me in Her Montana Cowboy, which is the third story about my family. So you’ll get to find out how my life progresses and whether things go as you hope they will at the end of A Rancher for Rosie.
A look into...

* Finally, as darkness fell, Rosie heard the thundering of horses’ hooves. That had to be the men.
* She opened the front door and peered into the night. Sure enough, three horses approached the perimeter fence. Two of the men jumped down from their mounts and hurried toward the house while the third one, Rosie suspected it was Emmett, took the mares over to the barn.
* Kenan reached her first.
* “Is she…is it…I’ve been so…” He leaned over his knees and gasped for breath.
* “Just get inside, you fool. Catherine is well. She’s waiting for you.”
* He obeyed and Rosie turned back to the porch.
* There he was. Dusty. Tired. Road weary. But as handsome as she remembered.
* “Joshua,” she whispered his name then sighed as he took her into his arms. She relaxed against him, allowing his strength and vitality to form their reassuring circle around her.
* “Oh Rosie, I’ve missed you so much. Has the baby arrived? Is Catherine well? Each time I’m away, it gets harder I swear.”
* You have no idea…
* “Yes, Catherine is very well. She and Kenan have a daughter. And how are you?” She pulled out of his embrace and looked at him. Even in the semi-darkness, with his face illuminated only by the light from within the house, his eyes seemed intense as the sky on a clear summer’s day. They burned into her, reaching down inside her and igniting her passion for him. But this would not do. She had to end this. She had to divorce herself from her feelings for him so that she could bid him farewell.
* She did. It was true.
* But an idea began to form. She would tell Joshua that they had no future, that he should leave and never return. But she could allow herself something before she severed their ties. Why not? If she was to experience a lifetime of suffering, an eternity of heartbreak in a cold, lonely bed, then she could give herself something first…some sweet memories to treasure for the rest of her days.

* Molly Ann Wishlade has always been an avid reader and writer of stories. She regularly indulges her love of romance and passion by getting lost in the delicious worlds created by romantic novelists. When not reading, she's busy with her current WIP, usually her next highly erotic tale about sexy and saucy cowboys and their lady loves - and sometimes their gorgeous male lovers too.
* She wants to take readers on the rollercoaster that is life through the creation of vivid characters, relationships and worlds.
* She loves to hear from readers. Find Molly Ann Wishlade here... Blog/Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Totally Bound Page | Twitter

Buy A Rancher for Rosie here... All Romance eBooks | Amazon | Amazon - UK | Barnes & Noble | Paperback | Totally Bound Thank you for joining us here today, Molly Ann Wishlade! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

A Look At Janelle Jalbert & 'Triangulating Bliss' @justjjwriting @GoddessFish #mystery

Today we have author Janelle Jalbert visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Janelle Jalbert has ghostwritten 15 nonfiction books on topics ranging from productivity, money management, marketing, cooking, and relationships. She also worked as a copywriter for some of the biggest online names and worked as a motorsports reporter covering NASCAR. Jalbert enjoys bringing stories to life that celebrate the magic in everyday living. To learn more about her current and upcoming releases and promotions visit www.janellejalbert.com. Jalbert currently lives in Southern California, though she regularly returns to her second home in North Carolina when her pack of pups grants her a vacation.

What are you going to tell us about today?
* My story, Triangulating Bliss. A look into...

~ Blurb ~ A struggling veteran reads about the mysterious death of a local athlete and wants to learn more. He meets the owner of the business linked to the crime and discovers others have “disappeared”.
All stories include a man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a strong jaw.
Then, it’s his turn.
The mysterious forces at Bliss change everything. What brought them all to Bliss is not as it appears and their lives are powerfully interconnected across space and time. ~ Excerpt ~ Greg opened the backdoor to Bliss. He forced himself to stop thinking about how the name of the place made him think of a day spa rather than a barbeque joint. The tell-tale wood smoke greeted him, causing his stomach to growl and suspending his thoughts about the name of the place. Musical chimes sounded above the door as Greg’s eyes adjusted from the glare of the fall sun to the darkened interior.
Figures, he thought. Why wouldn't there be chimes at a place called Bliss?
Once his eyes adjusted, the bar area didn't seem to be out of the ordinary. Greg stopped at the partition just inside the door. It was covered with a list of sayings:
-- Follow Your Bliss
-- Happiness Is an Inside Job
-- Be Careful What You Wish For
-- There's No Better Time to Claim the Future You Want Than Now
* A half-laugh escaped him. He thought it was a menu board at first and the philosophizing caught him off guard. Still, the final statement hit close to home, and he took a deep breath.
* Greg headed to the long black bar. A smaller party room was to the right with about a dozen tables to the left. It had the feel of a contemporary jazz club or maybe a speakeasy. Beyond the tables, bright daylight streamed into the lounge from a passage between the front diner area and the bar. No creepy Twilight Zone feeling here, he thought.
* Two muted, flat screen TVs hung on either side of the wood shelves stocked with bottles of all sizes. He eyed the taps and sports coverage while surveying the place. Though there were no windows in the back area, yet it didn't feel claustrophobic. Between the lighting, mirrors and glass, there was elegance to the place that radiated a different type of light. Poster-sized black and white pictures hung on the walls, showing the history of the place. Greg guessed they were from the 1940's. Smaller pictures of patrons and notable artifacts related to "Our Place" dotted the walls. Greg knew from his early research that Our Place was the name of the restaurant until a few years earlier.
* Greg settled in, still getting a sense of the place, when a woman with graying dark hair approached him. Though he talked with Lois on the phone, this was the first time he saw her. She was not remarkably tall, but definitely commanded the bar and carried herself in a way that betrayed her real age. She had a look of knowing, or maybe it was just cheer that she had a customer on a dead afternoon. Buy Triangulating Bliss here... Amazon | Barnes & Noble | access freebies and bonuses here Find Janelle Jalbert here... Facebook | Goodreads | Twitter | Website Thank you for joining us here today, Janelle Jalbert! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Janelle Jalbert will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour! So be sure to leave a comment AND use the Rafflecopter below. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

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A Look At p.m.terrell & 'A Thin Slice of Heaven' @pmterrell @GoddessFish #MagicalRealism

Today we have author p.m.terrell visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* p.m.terrell is the pen name for Patricia McClelland Terrell, a multi-award-winning, internationally acclaimed author of more than twenty books in five genres: contemporary suspense, historical suspense, romance, computer how-to and non-fiction.
* Prior to writing full-time, she founded two computer companies in the Washington, DC Metropolitan Area. Among her clients were the Central Intelligence Agency, United States Secret Service, U.S. Information Agency, and Department of Defense. Her specialties were in white collar computer crimes and computer intelligence, themes that have carried forward to her suspense.
* She is also the co-founder of The Book ‘Em Foundation, an organization committed to raising public awareness of the correlation between high crime rates and high illiteracy rates. She is the organizer and chairperson of Book ‘Em North Carolina, an annual event held in the real town of Lumberton, North Carolina, to raise funds to increase literacy and reduce crime. For more information on this event and the literacy campaigns funded by it, visit www.bookemnc.org.

Today p.m.terrell will be talking about how she became a writer and what inspired her in regard to the story she's promoting.
The stories behind the writing...
* I knew I wanted to be a writer in the fourth grade when I won a poetry contest (which I’ll always believe was fixed) and I walked across the stage in the auditorium to accept my award—a book of poetry. My school principal encouraged me to write short stories and by the time I’d reached my teen years, I was writing manuscripts of 300 pages.
* When I was in the eighth grade, I won a state-wide writing contest. I’ve never been called “Pat” but for some reason, my teacher wrote that on the application and the judges assumed I was male. When they discovered that I was female, they rescinded the award and it went to the runner-up. It didn’t bother me that much but Miss Webb was livid.
* I continued writing but life often takes turns that we don’t expect, and I ended up in the computer industry shortly after the Apple computer was invented. (Yes, I am that old.) My writing soon took the form of programming code, technical manuals and occasional magazine articles for computer magazines. I started two computer companies and worked with the CIA, the Secret Service and the Department of Defense, to name a few. That work provided a lot of inspiration for future books.
* When I turned a certain age (you didn’t expect me to name the number, right?) I realized that I had always imagined myself being a published novelist by that point in my life. I began writing my first suspense in many years, titled Kickback, based on true trucking kickback schemes. I knew the subject inside and out because I’d been an FBI informant, passing information about the schemes. It took two years to write it and two more to sell it; during that time, I amassed enough rejection slips to wallpaper an entire house.
* A couple of years later, I retired from my computer businesses and began writing full-time. I find inspiration everywhere, and the toughest challenge for me is to decide which story to write. I began with suspense/thrillers that focused on computer technology (“techno-thrillers”) and which also involved domestic or international crime. Eventually, I began writing a series called Black Swamp Mysteries, about five people tied together through blood or circumstance: a CIA psychic spy, a CIA operative, a computer hacker who prefers the wrong side of the law, a political operative and a CIA section chief.
* I began writing about Ireland several years ago when I began researching my ancestors, who were Scot-Irish. I finally traveled to my ancestral home this past year and ironically, it was in almost the exact location where I pictured the castle in my latest book, A Thin Slice of Heaven—about fifty miles west of Belfast. I’ve been so inspired by Ireland and its rich history that I’m certain the country will play a large role in many of my future books. A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * She had arranged to meet her husband in Northern Ireland for a second honeymoon, but when Charleigh arrives at the remote castle, she receives a message that he won’t be coming—and that he’s leaving her for another woman.
* Stranded for the weekend by a snowstorm that has blocked all access to the castle, she finds herself three thousand miles from home in a country she knows nothing about.
* She is soon joined by Sean Bracken, the great-grandson of Laird Bracken, the original owner of the castle, and she finds herself falling quickly and madly in love with him. There’s just one problem: he’s dead.
* As the castle begins to come alive with secrets from centuries past, she finds herself trapped between parallel worlds. Caught up in a mass haunting, she can no longer recognize the line between the living and the dead. Now she’s discovering that her appearance there wasn’t by accident—and her life is about to change forever. ~ Excerpt ~ * “What’s happening?” Charleigh whispered. Her throat had grown dry and her voice was hoarse with tension. Though she attempted to keep her tone low so they would remain unobserved, it sounded loud and harsh in the strident atmosphere that seemed suddenly to have gripped the village. She felt anxiety growing deep within her and the urge to get back to the castle burgeoned with ferocity and urgency; but she realized with a sickening sensation in the pit of her soul that the growing inharmonious throngs were between them and the sanctuary of her room.
* “Do not be afraid, m’ Leah,” Sean answered. He did not whisper but his voice was deep and taut. After a moment, he said, “They are reenacting an event that occurred… some time ago.”
* “Oh,” she breathed. She should have felt relief but her insides continued to roil as if his explanation did not match the scene unfolding before her. Nervously, she said, “Reenactors. We have them in America.”
* “You have witnessed them, then?”
* “Yes. I find them very interesting…” She forced the words past her dry lips. “They reenact battles from the Civil War and the Revolutionary War, mainly.”
* As the churning skies turned to the color of tar, Charleigh could discern the sources of the strange glow: they were torches held aloft by dozens of people. More were joining them, stragglers rushing from the village to catch up, while they began to spread apart in a more orderly column as they converged on the flat land they’d crossed on their way into the village. One man in the forefront stopped and began pointing and directing those that followed.
* “These reenactments,” Sean continued, “were the people alive?” Buy A Thin Slice of Heaven here... Amazon - Paperback | Amazon - Kindle | Barnes & Noble - Paperback | Barnes & Noble - Nook Find p.m.terrell here... Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Website | YouTube - Book Video Thank you for joining us here today, p.m.terrell! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! p.m.terrell will be awarding a Celtic Butterfly Suncatcher similar to the one mentioned in the book, symbolizing both the never-ending cycle of life and the metamorphosis of a butterfly to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour! So be sure to leave a comment AND use the Rafflecopter below. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

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A Look At Cara Bristol & 'Stolen Moments' @CaraBristol @GoddessFish #RomCom #Short

Today we have author Cara Bristol visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Cara Bristol continues to evolve, adding new subgenres of erotic romance to her repertoire. She has written spanking romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction romance. No matter what the genre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.

What are you going to tell us about today?
* My story, Stolen Moments. A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * Is it crazy to be jealous of a fictional character?
* While Mary Sue is proud of her construction-worker husband Billy's new-found success as an author of spanking novels, she also finds herself resentful of Beverly Golightly, the fictional heroine who gets everything Mary Sue wants: her man's undivided attention, lots of hot loving, and many delicious spankings.
* But is Mary Sue's jealousy any crazier than the plan she hatches to recapture her husband's attention? ~ Excerpt ~ * She whirled around and planted her hands on her hips. “Are you going to sit there or are you going to give me a hand?”
* Billy smiled, unfolded himself from his chair and sauntered over to her. “I’m going to give you two hands.” He ducked his head to snuggle against her neck and squeezed both ass cheeks.
* “Billy!” She protested with a wiggle, but giggled all the same. “We have to get the kitchen cleaned up.”
* “Okay.” He kissed the other side of her neck, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cupped the V between her legs with his other hand, and pulled her against him.
* “I’m serious,” she said, but rubbed against his hard-on, which prodded her lower back. Victory! He grinned, and slid his hand up to cover her breast. He thrummed the nipple.
* “What else needs to be done?” From what he could tell, she’d finished everything: stowed the leftovers, put their few plates in the dishwasher, and wiped off the counters.
* “I don’t know…things.” She rolled her head to the side, baring her neck. Her nape and throat were very sensitive. Paying attention there offered an almost surefire way to put her in the mood.
* Billy followed the slope from ear to shoulder, kissing and nibbling. Mary Sue shuddered.
* He smiled against her skin.
* “What are you laughing at?”
* “Not laughing.” He shook his head and drew a circle with the pad of his thumb over a hard bead poking through her tank. He loved the tight, skimpy tops she wore. Around the house, she went braless. Something else her alter ego emulated. Only Beverly had pranced around town like that—which had led to a spanking and a lecture on modesty by the heroine’s boyfriend. Billy brushed his lips over Mary Sue’s ear. “You want to move this to the bedroom?”
* She slipped out of his hold, and with a teasing smile, said, “I think maybe the oven needs cleanin’.”
* “I’ve got something for the oven, but it doesn’t involve cleaning.”
* Mary Sue half groaned, half laughed. “That is so bad. I hope you write better than that!”
* “Darlin’, writing is the last the thing on my mind right now.” Buy Stolen Moments here... Amazon - US | Amazon - UK Find Cara Bristol here... Amazon Author Page | Blog/Website | Facebook | Google+ | Newsletter | Tsu | Twitter Thank you for joining us here today, Cara Bristol! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Cara Bristol will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour! So be sure to leave a comment AND use the Rafflecopter below. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

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A Look At Candi Wall & 'Lead Me Home' @candiwall @GoddessFish #western #romance

Today we have author Candi Wall visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Candi Wall is probably the only person whose real name is more epic than any pseudonym she could have come up with – even as an author! She writes because the voices in her head have to come out somehow. Animal rescue-ess, mother of four, and soccer mom by day, she spends her free time writing – often on napkins at kids’ games because she never knows when a juicy story will reveal its delicious self. She once wrote a sex scene at a wrestling meet. Shhhhhh!

What are you going to tell us about today?
* My story, Lead Me Home.
A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * Home Is Where the Heat Is, Book 2
* As far as Chloe Garrison is concerned, Nick Westing was carved by the gods. Her one and only plan while visiting her best friend in Texas: get that sexy cowboy into her bed as often as possible until it’s time to return to New York.
* After a whirlwind week she slips away, thinking it best to make a clean break. Except she can’t get Nick out of her head. And when he unexpectedly walks into her office, her first instinct is to find her defenses before she loses her panties.
* Nick jumped at the chance to accompany his brother to New York for a photo shoot, but now that he’s here, he’s pissed. Seems Chloe is doing everything in her power to ignore him. The tender part of him understands her need for space.
* The wilder side of him teases and torments her until she finally admits she’s missed him. Even though she walks away, in his book it’s a win. Because one way or another, he’s going to convince her they belong together.
~ Excerpt ~ * She was a shark, carving a path through numerous workers and barking out orders that somehow brought the chaotic room into order.
* “Last chance to offer suggestions, ladies and gentlemen.” She waited, every eye on her.
* Nick couldn’t resist. She was so stiff and severe, he had to try to bring out a bit of the Chloe he met in Texas. “How ’bout a few more lights? Wouldn’t want the camera to miss a moment of my brother’s debut.”
* She whipped around in his direction. So did most of the people in the room.
* Chloe smiled, but it wasn’t anything close to the expression he was used to seeing. “Nick, you weren’t at the staff meeting where I pointed out that there is a difference between making helpful suggestions and creating time sucks that StyleU can’t afford.”
* That was a bit snarky. She was in rare form today. He took a step forward. “I’m guessing my suggestion landed in the time-suck category?”
* “Clever cowboy,” she countered sarcastically.
* “Ya’ll figure talking is a waste of time?”
* “Only when it doesn’t pertain to the shoot.” She waved to indicate the entire room. “Which is costing a bundle.”
* “How much is a bundle exactly?” He kept his expression blank, eyes wide, waiting for her to either blow a gasket or laugh.
* “Between the photographer, staff, Cash’s contract and odds and ends, we’re looking at close to five thousand an hour.”
* “Holy horse shit.” He noticed a few chuckles. Good. The room was a damn morgue. City folks took things way too seriously.
Buy Lead Me Home here... Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Samhain Publishing Find Candi Wall here... Facebook | Twitter | Website Thank you for joining us here today, Candi Wall! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Candi Wall will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, as well as an autographed paperback copy of Primitive Nights to two randomly drawn winners, and an autographed paperback copy of Stay to two other winners. All books are US ONLY! So be sure to leave a comment AND use the Rafflecopter below. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

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Shoshanna Evers & 'Shoshanna’s Short Shorts' @ShoshannaEvers @GoddessFish #erotica

Today we have author Shoshanna Evers visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Shoshanna Evers has written dozens of sexy stories, including The Man Who Holds the Whip (part of the NYT bestselling MAKE ME anthology), I Am Not Your Melody (from the NYT bestselling Cowboy 12-Pack), Beauty & the Beast: an erotic reimagining (from the USA Today bestselling Wicked Hot Reads), The Enslaved Trilogy and The Pulse Trilogy from Simon & Schuster Pocket Star, and the national bestseller, The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride...and Baby.
* Her work has been featured in Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and Best Bondage Erotica 2013, the Penguin/Berkley Heat anthology Agony/Ecstasy, and numerous erotic BDSM novellas including Chastity Belt and Punishing the Art Thief, originally from Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
* The non-fiction anthology Shoshanna Evers edited and contributed to, How To Write Hot Sex, is a #1 Bestseller in the Authorship, Erotica Writing Reference, and Romance Writing categories.
* Shoshanna is also the cofounder of SelfPubBookCovers.com, the largest selection of one-of-a-kind, premade book covers in the world.
* Shoshanna is a New York native who now lives with her family and three big dogs in Northern Idaho. She welcomes emails from readers and writers, and loves to interact on Twitter and Facebook.

A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * If you’re in the mood for a quickie (ahem), you’ll love this collection of eleven sexy short stories from New York Times and USA Today bestselling erotic romance author, Shoshanna Evers —“Queen of the erotic novellas.” (Fandom Fanatic). This collection pulls Evers’ published stories together from nine different anthologies into one volume. Includes a never-before-published story, plus the bestselling Overheated! ~ Excerpt ~ * From Forced Orgasms Copyright 2015 Shoshanna Evers. All Rights Reserved.
* Tonight, he was paying to make his dream a reality, a reality that would last for exactly one hour once his doorbell rang. The escort service called the woman “Genevieve,” although as far as Ivan could tell she seemed more like a Jenny trying to look worth her sticker price.
* She seemed very friendly, and calm, although Ivan was looking forward to seeing the desperation on her face he knew the evening would bring. Was that sick? Probably. But she’d love it. At least the first fifteen minutes of it, anyway. His cock hardened, straining against his slacks.
* “Jenny,” he said cordially, kissing her cheek.
* She didn’t correct him on the name. Maybe he’d been right about her, or maybe she was smart enough not to start off an evening with a client by correcting him. Maybe she’d let him call her whatever he wished.
* “Take off your clothes, please,” he said.
* Jenny gave him a saucy smile and pulled her expensive dress over her head, leaving a matching black-and-red lace brassiere and thong.
* “Beautiful,” he said appreciatively. “But those need to go too.”
* “Wow, get right down to business,” she said, laughing. “I’m surprised.”
* She sat down on the couch, but he shook his head.
* “I have a special chair for you. Why are you surprised?” He nodded over to the corner, to the bondage chair he’d pulled out of the garage and shined with leather cleaner and stainless steel polish. The chair had cost more than she had.
* “I was told you weren’t interested in sleeping with your escorts,” Jenny said, eyeing the leather straps attached to the chair and sitting in it anyway.
* “No, I’m not,” he replied. It was the truth, after all. “I just want to watch you be pleasured with my vibrator, over and over. Does that sound good to you?”
* She laughed. “Sure! I never get to come during these—” Jenny stopped speaking suddenly, as if someone had put the mute switch on her. More likely, she’d remembered a rule the escort service had given her. Ivan imagined it went something like: Don’t complain about other clients. It makes the man you’re with now feel like he’s not the only one, and it makes him wonder if you’re complaining about him to the other men.
* “Good. Spread your legs.”
* Jenny complied, spreading her thighs wide so that her ankles touched the straps on the bottom of the chair. Ivan made quick work out of restraining her.
* “Hands behind your back, gorgeous,” he said, and she obeyed, silent now. He used fuzzy red cuffs to handcuff her wrists. The cuffs looked cute and playful, but their bondage was real.
* “I’m going to make you come until you pass out. Does that sound like a good idea?”
* She laughed again, and Ivan recognized it for what it was—nerves. “Yes. I’m yours for the next…” she looked up at the large metal clock ticking above the fireplace, “forty-three minutes.”
* Ivan stifled a groan of desire. Forty-three minutes. Forty-three minutes to watch her come, and come again, and squirm, and scream. Then beg…and beg. And come again.
* The memory of this evening would fulfill all of his masturbatory fantasies for the rest of his life. Which was good, because after this he’d probably be cut off from this particular escort service.
* Ivan plugged in the long white vibrator, pressing the thick round head against her. Frowning, he dipped his fingers down and spread her nether lips until the vibrator nestled directly against a tender spot. His fingers came back shiny.
* “This turns you on?” he asked, surprised.
* “Yes,” she admitted shyly.
* He flipped the switch to Low and watched her face, her reaction as the vibrator buzzed to life.
* “How’s that feel?”
* “Amazing.” She tilted her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. Buy Shoshanna’s Short Shorts here... All Romance eBooks | Amazon - US | Amazon - UK | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Smashwords Find Shoshanna Evers here... Facebook | Goodreads | Newsletter | Twitter | Website Thank you for joining us here today, Shoshanna Evers! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Shoshanna Evers will award a randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter a $25 Amazon/BN GC! So be sure to leave a comment AND use the Rafflecopter below. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

A Look At Shane Hayes & 'The Last Dreamgirl' @ShaneHayes732 @GoddessFish #Psychological #Thriller

Today we have author Shane Hayes visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* A native Philadelphian, Shane Hayes earned his bachelor’s and his law degree from Villanova University, and studied for a year at Princeton Theological Seminary. He worked as a writer/editor for Prentice Hall and an attorney for the federal government. He is married, has four children, and lives in suburban Philadelphia. His nonfiction book The End of Unbelief: A New Approach to the Question of God was released by Leafwood Publishers in the fall of 2014.
* Two young men meet on ship when both are recently out of college. They share a flaming ambition. Each aims to write novels that will be internationally acclaimed and win him a place in American letters. One of them, Paul Theroux, achieves the dream in all its glory: becomes world famous, writes over 40 books, and three of his novels are made into films. The other, Shane Hayes, fails completely, but keeps tenaciously writing, decade after decade, plowing on through hundreds of rejections. Then almost half a century later, Shane contacts Paul, who remembers him, reads three of his books, likes them, and praises them with endorsements.
* In writing to agents and publishers Shane could now say, “Query for a novel praised by Paul Theroux.” No one offers a book deal because of an endorsement, so rejections keep coming. But more people let him send at least a sample and are predisposed to see merit in it. At his age, time is crucial. In the month he turns 75, Shane receives contracts on two of his books from different publishers. He will always be grateful to the literary giant who remembered ten days of friendship half-a-lifetime after it ended.

What are you going to tell us about today?
* My story, The Last Dreamgirl. A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * For every man there’s a girl who grips his imagination and his heart as no other girl ever did or will. She may be in her teens or a mature woman. He responds to her as a boy to a girl. Whether she comes early in his life or late, there is a throne in his subconscious that she takes possession of, without trying, often without wanting to.The image he forms of her reigns there in perpetuity, even if she has left his life, or this life. Her enchantment never fades or fails, and he is never immune to it. She may not be for him the last wife or paramour, but she is the last dreamgirl. ~ Excerpt ~ * Traffic was light enough that Ron could pull out and follow Bower, a car or two behind. Bower drove to a local Acme supermarket, parked, grabbed a pushcart, and went in to shop.
* Ron did the same. While he avoided trailing Bower through the aisles he effectively followed him by going down aisles that Bower was coming up, and sometimes pausing near Bower to search for products on one side of the aisle while Bower was scanning the shelves on the other side. Viewing the man’s features at close range Ron had no doubt that this was the Vulture. Ron got so close to him in the drug and cosmetics aisle that he made two notable observations. First, from a sharp side angle Bower’s deformed eye-placement could be seen under his dark glasses. Second, he was working from two shopping lists—which seemed to be in different handwriting. At a glance Ron perceived one as a small neat feminine hand, written in blue ink, and the other as a larger, though equally neat, hand—probably masculine—in pencil.
* Ron’s heart leaped at the thought that the penned shopping list had been written by Sandra Moore. But he knew how much he wanted to find evidence of her being alive in Bower’s house and feared he might have seen what he wanted to see. Seconds after the observation, when he had moved down the aisle, he began to question it.
* The fact that both lists were so neatly written made him doubt that they were done by different hands. The pencil versus ink could have created that illusion; and sometimes one’s mood and the size of the paper can prompt one to write smaller than usual....
* Ron’s doubts about handwriting were resolved when he made his next pass of Bower’s cart near the feminine hygiene shelves and saw in it a box of women’s sanitary napkins. Why in God’s name would Bower be buying Kotex if he lived alone? There had to be a woman there and a menstruating woman at that. Ron couldn’t check but would be willing to bet that the Kotex had been written on the blue-ink shopping list in what had first struck him as a feminine hand. It was a feminine hand, and he would lay odds that it was Sandra’s.
* Ron got right behind Bower in the checkout line and noticed that he had also bought a woman’s scented bath powder, a feminine underarm deodorant, and a supply of hairpins. Ron had to resist an impulse to cry out in joy and triumph. None of the female items were things a young man would bring to a girl he was dating. None was the equivalent of a bouquet, a box of candy, or a bottle of perfume. These were things a man would typically pick up for his wife or mistress, a woman he was living with. Or a girl he held captive. Buy The Last Dreamgirl here... Amazon - Paperbook | Amazon - Kindle | Barnes & Noble - Paperback | Barnes & Noble - Nook Find Shane Hayes here... Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Website Thank you for joining us here today, Shane Hayes! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

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A Look At Emma Anderson & 'A Conquest Like No Other' @evernightpub #erotic #paranormal

Today we have author Emma Anderson visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* I have had many jobs throughout my working life but none as important as my current one. I am a wife and mother, first and foremost. Everything else takes second place. I’m just lucky that my husband and my two sons have supported me in this new chapter of my life.
* When I'm not writing or chasing after my two boys, you can find me in the kitchen, baking. Or holed up somewhere with my nose in a book. I have always loved to read, and due to my over active imagination, writing seemed to be a natural progression for me. As for my chosen genre, well my love for happy endings dictated that one.
* I would love to hear from you. My everyday life is taken up by three boys (hubby included), so any conversation that doesn't revolve around dinosaurs, Pokémon, Marvel heroes or sport (hubby) is welcome.

A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * When Nikki Greene is kidnapped by a crime boss, the last thing she expects is for an even more dangerous man to rescue her. She’s already survived one brutal attack by a man claiming to care for her. She’s not in the market for love, even though her tattooed hero awakens urges she never expected to feel again—and some she’s never felt before.
* Viper, a renowned playboy, doesn’t want a mate. He likes the freedom of taking a different partner to bed each night. But the moment Nikki enters his life, his bachelorhood is doomed. Now he must work past Nikki’s trust issues to win a place in her life and bed. He’s determined to prove that her scars are only skin-deep and together they can have it all.
* But trouble is coming for Nikki. A menacing presence lurks on the fringes of her world, waiting for the chance to prove to Nikki that revenge isn’t sweet, but it is deadly. Can Viper save her this time, or will he lose her for good?
~ Excerpt ~ * Nikki slumped with her back against the closed front door. To say she was relieved to see Viper leave was an understatement. Again her hormones reacted to him. Why they had to come to life after three years, she had no idea. And even worse yet, for her best friend’s new brother-in-law. The situation had disaster written all over it. Even if her fear would allow her to make a move on the unsuspecting man, her conscience wouldn’t. As he had pointed out, they were now family. And she couldn’t risk Gabby’s happiness by throwing herself at Viper. It would lead to uncomfortable family gatherings.
* Pushing herself off the door, she attempted to eject her sexy rainbow-colored angel out of her mind as she went about getting herself ready for bed. By the time she was snuggled under the blankets, she was exhausted. Half an hour later, sleep still refused her. Her body needed something—something she knew B.O.B. could provide.
* Reaching across to her bedside table drawer, she pulled out her purple vibrator. This silicone cock had been the only form of male company her body had allowed over these last three years. And he never disappointed her, except when he ran out of batteries.
* Throwing the blankets back, she quickly removed her pajamas. The cool air hit her sensitive nipples, causing them to harden further. They were begging to be teased. Her hand molded around her tiny breast, roughly massaging it. The harsh manhandling had more juices leaking from her already flowing pussy. Her thumb and index finger found her pebbled nipple, pinching it hard.
* A groan escaped her as her hips lifted from the mattress, seeking out its partner. The hand that held B.O.B. travelled lower. B.O.B.’s head circled her hypersensitive clit. Electricity raced through her whole being, enticing her orgasm closer to the surface.
* As if on its own accord, B.O.B. found her entrance. Scooping up some of her escaped juices, it slowly entered her. Each thrust took her higher, but still it wasn’t enough to take her over the edge. Suddenly Viper’s image popped into her mind. No longer were her fingers pinching and pulling at her nipples. Instead, his mouth had engulfed her breasts, his teeth worrying her nipples and sending shock waves throughout her whole being. As for B.O.B., he had been replaced as well. Viper was carrying her body to the heavens, and she welcomed it. Her imagination took the fantasy further.
* Her legs widened, allowing room for Viper’s large body. The thrusts were coming harder and faster. Her orgasm quickly approached, catapulting her over the edge. Still Viper’s body continued to drive into her. Suddenly he pulled out and turned her. With her head on the mattress and her backside in the air, he slammed back into her. At this angle it was enough to encourage another orgasm to make itself known. It danced around the edges, avoiding her pleas for completion. More punishing thrusts were delivered from behind. Then it came, a command her body seemed to be waiting for.
* “Come for me, sweetheart.”
* Light burst behind her closed eyelids right before she screamed her completion. As she tumbled back to earth she felt tears falling from her eyes. Her head was turned to the side, allowing the sheet and mattress to absorb them. It was then that she realized how uncomfortable she was. True to her fantasy, her backside was in the air, while her head rested upon the bed. One arm held her balanced while the other one was under her body. Her hand was between her legs, holding B.O.B. in her pussy.
* As she went about cleaning B.O.B and remaking her bed she expected embarrassment to consume her. It never came. In its place was confusion. How could that fantasy have felt so real? In her mind, she felt his body against hers. Never before had any of her masturbating sessions felt like that.
* The man she was trying to view as family had somehow accomplished the impossible. In her mind, he had truly been with her in this bed. Yet the fear that usually accompanied the idea of being sexually involved with a male was absent. How was that possible? Why was he having such an effect on her?
* This man with his brightly painted skin and rusty red hair had her craving things she didn’t think were possible to ever want again—a sexual relationship. His messy locks with their just-out-of-bed look called to her fingers. They desperately wanted to delve into his thick mass of hair. His plump, kissable lips had her mouth watering and her chin itching. In her mind she could see the stubble rash that would appear after a kiss from her new fantasy go-to guy. How was she ever going to look at that man again without blushing?
* She was glad that she didn’t have to see him every day. Otherwise she suspected her rampant hormones would have her doing something impetuous. With her hormones in overdrive she knew it wouldn’t be long before she threw herself at this man who was only being friendly with her because of Gabby’s relationship with Devil. She needed to minimize her exposure to Viper. It was the only way she wouldn’t embarrass Gabby and herself.
Buy A Conquest Like No Other here... Evernight Publishing | All Romance eBooks | Amazon | BookStrand Find Emma Anderson here... Amazon Author Page | Blog | BookStrand | eMail | Facebook | Goodreads | Google+ | Manic Readers | Tsu Thank you for joining us here today, Emma Anderson! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

A Look At Raven McAllan & 'The Racing Driver's Wife' @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #erotic

Today we have author Raven McAllan visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* Ever since I won not one but two, Cadbury, ‘where does chocolate come from’ competitions in primary school, I was convinced, one day I would write a book. My parents encouraged me. My schoolteachers despaired of me. Flowery. Romantic. Not factual. Hey I loved weaving stories about anything and anyone.
* So what happened to my grand ideas? Life got in the way.
* So more years later than I am prepared to disclose (hey a woman has to have some secrets) Here I am, an author. Not even that, a published author! Happy or what?
* Married to my own hero (how cheesy is that) we live on the edge of a Scottish Forest. I write on my lap top in my study, watching the birds on the bird table, the strange big black fluffy ‘ I’m pretending to be a bird’ cat, sitting on it and trying to convince the many birds he is invisible, occasionally seeing deer and red squirrel moving past. I am privileged. As a non-closet romantic, sometime neurotic, and lover of words, I so enjoyed getting involved with my hero and heroines. I hope you do too.

What are you going to tell us about today?
* What is it with some men and their attitudes?
* Hot bods, hot blooded and often hot tempered. You know, speak first, regret it later.
* Yeah, them. They might make you shiver quiver and tingle—however that level of hotness can be hard to live with. They can't help themselves, bless them, sometimes, when they try to shield their love from all the nasties that could affect them.
* And we all know how damned annoying that is. Why do they think we're such fragile little flowers we can't cope. Because if they think that, sometimes, we begin to think it as well…
* And that's where the problems can start…
* My first book, The Rock Star's Wife, in the series, Their Wives, is already out.
* On 17th, The Racing Driver's Wife is out.
* Happy Reading! A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * Some risks are worth taking…
* Racing driver Gael Lorenzo is used to taking his life in his hands, if only he could say the same for his errant wife. He meant his wedding vows, and there will never be another woman for him, but what can he do to win her back?
* Darcy thought she knew the risks of being married to a man who lives for his sport. The reality of the race track, however, proves too much for her. Nevertheless, giving Gael up entirely, is not an option either.
* When circumstances force them back into each other’s company, neither one of them can let this chance go. Together they are stronger than apart, and their marriage is worth fighting for, isn’t it? ~ Excerpt ~ * Gael Lorenzo ducked the remote control as it flew through the air in his direction, and caught it in one hand.
* "How on earth you ever get from A to B when your coordination is so bad I have no conception," he said as he walked into the room and put the control down on the table. He made sure it was well out of Darcy's arm reach. He knew how sneaky she could be if she thought the occasion warranted it. Damned if he wasn’t more nervous then before a race. He was under no illusion that the next few moments were going to be sticky. "That was more likely to hit the window than me."
* Darcy made a sound somewhere between a scream and a snort. "Ass. You scared the living daylights out of me. And as for your one-upmanship, how on earth you lie so successfully and don't bat an eyelid, I have no conception," Darcy said. "‛My wife is my life’," she parroted and rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that'll be right. After your car, your team and…"
* "And nothing, cara." One-upmanship? He'd thought he was very restrained. He made no mention of open doors, lack of security, self-preservation or the like. "You believe what you will, but I speak the truth. If my wife would let it be so." He shrugged. "Then it would be. However, she chooses to live her own life, and I have to accept that." He winced as he became oh-so-very Italian. It was a measure of his concern and the knowledge of just how important this meeting was.
* Darcy turned toward the television where the bouncy idiot he'd had to endure warbled on in her happy-clappy manner. Gael braced himself. He knew what was about to come, and he'd hoped to speak to Darcy beforehand. It seemed a tractor and trailer, and a laden log lorry who just knew they owned the road, had put paid to that. He'd spent twenty minutes breathing their fumes, before passing in a spot only the brave or foolhardy would use. It wasn't that you couldn't see any oncoming traffic—the road ran straight for nigh on half a mile. It was the width of the ruts and gravel that was tricky. Gael got by with no more than an inch on each side and a dozen or so scratches from the gravel where it jumped up and scored the paintwork. As it was a hire car, he guessed that his chance of a cheap rental ever again had just disappeared down the toilet.
* "…and so you say this woman is lying?" The voice reverberated around the room. "In fact you're happily married? There is a wife, but she's not hidden away somewhere? So why isn't she with you? Are you estranged?"
* Darcy turned to him, and if he had one wish, it would be to banish the pained look in her eyes. Heaven help him, he'd done his best to avert the interview, but some ferrety reporter had discovered he was married and of course it was full bodied fodder for the gossip columns. Gael knew fine and well how his boring, no companion, race, practice, test, train and sleep regime annoyed them. Even more so because in his youth he'd kept most of them in business.
* "Cara, I…"
* "Shh, I'm listening to what my husband has decided to say." Darcy turned her back on him. "Even if he chooses not to say it to me. Strange, that."
* Gael spent a few seconds admiring the curve of her spine and the way a few tendrils of reddish brown hair tickled the nape of her neck before he shrugged and wandered into the kitchen. After several wrong attempts he found mugs and coffee and set the stovetop machine on the hotplate to percolate.
* It was inevitable this day would come, but he wished it hadn't been mid season, where his chances for in-depth discussion would be few and far between. Unless he could persuade Darcy to accompany him to the track, and after today there was less likelihood of that than persuading her to fly to the moon.
* He was pouring the liquid into two mugs when a sound alerted him to her presence. She leaned against the doorjamb, her long legs bare and a tiny skirt and strappy top covering what needed to be covered to preserve her decency.
* "What a load of cobblers you spouted. 'My wife has a busy life and we prefer to have our time together without interruptions. Those moments are precious and I'm greedy enough not to want to share them with anyone else. Lucky for me she feels the same'." Darcy parroted his explanation in the interview in a sarcastic tone. "Yuck, so icky-sicky. Why didn't you just divorce me?" She held her sunglasses by one of the arms and spun them around before jamming them on her nose. "You have grounds. I left you."
* It was a pity, because Gael could no longer see her eyes to gauge her reaction to his words. "Sadly I couldn't find any Italian coffee, but I've done the best I could."
* "You get whatever was on offer and lump it. I buy for myself, not for unwelcomed guests."
* He winced very theatrically, and was immediately ashamed when she coloured and looked away from him.
* "Why should I divorce you? I took my vows in all faith, and intended to abide by them. I still do. In sickness and in health, in good times and bad. Etcetera. The fact we are apart does not negate my love for you. That strengthens every day. It is above everything. It's your choice not to be with me, and I have to accede to your preference." He took a swallow of coffee and grimaced. "It was pigs’ swill on sale, cara. You were robbed if they called it coffee. False advertising."
* "Join the real world, caro. See how the most of us live." Buy The Racing Driver's Wife here... Evernight Publishing | All Romance eBooks | Amazon - UK | Amazon - US | BookStrand Find Raven McAllan here... Website | Blog | Facebook - Profile | Facebook - Page | Twitter | Amazon - US | Amazon - UK Thank you for joining us here today, Raven McAllan! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.