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A bold and independent free spirit from the foster system of small town South Carolina, Lily is a survivor with skeletons in her closet. She knows what she wants and how to get it. And a spoiled rich playboy is not part of her plan- but Ry is irresistible.
Steamy, exciting and beautifully written, this dramatic romance will appeal to fans of Sylvia Day.
Book One in the Holy City Romance series about a wild and fun-loving group of twenty-somethings in Charleston, South Carolina.
“The masterpiece of my life was having learned how to glass myself inward, burying my heart so deep I didn’t even know where it was buried.” – Lily Inoue
Lily is a bold, passionate free thinker from small town South Carolina. Fiercely self reliant, the same strength that helped Lily survive a traumatic upbringing makes it difficult for her to trust anyone, especially Ry Calhoun. When Ry’s political obligations and Lily’s rising notoriety in Charleston threaten their relationship, Lily arrives into her most reckless act yet- and at incredible cost.
The scorching second installment in the Holy City Romance series of steamy romance novels about a wild, fun-loving group of twenty-somethings in Charleston, South Carolina.
The only way this lush, ultra-deluxe festivity gets any nicer is if you can get Ry to hand-churn while you watch.
Place glasses in the freezer to chill for 30 minutes.
Make out wildly on the kitchen counter.
Pour ice cream, milk, ice cubes, bourbon and chocolate syrup into a blender and whirl.
Try before you pour- the milkshake should be thick enough to be fed to you by Ry with a spoon, so if it seems thin, add more ice cream and blend again while Ry wraps you up in his arms.
Download the Candlemoth series, pull out glasses. Serve with spoons.
I fitted my leg around Ry’s so that there was nothing between us but my panties and his linen pants, and he kissed me so savagely it sucked the air from my chest.
Oh, I wanted him deep inside me.
“I want to get on my knees for you,” Ry said, and everything in me tightened at the cultured, raspy purr of his voice.
“I think I’d like to see you on your knees,” I said, my voice raw and strange.
Ry, paused, smiling, his eyes slitted with lust. He kissed me differently then, with slow, lush slides of his tongue that made me ache to feel his mouth between my legs.
His fingers curved roughly down around the front of my thigh, pushing the silky fabric of my dress up as he hunted towards my panties, lingering at the hem teasingly. His eyes danced, watching mine, as I moaned. My hips curled towards his and I felt the tips of his fingers slip beneath my panties.
I was the wettest I’d been in all my life, as if the whole center of me had melted into hot, silky lava. I cried out, pressing into his touch, plunging Ry’s fingers deep inside me, and he began to stroke with searing accuracy, the expression on his face both hot and tender.
“Ohhh,” I said, hanging from his sweet mouth. I stared up at the stars, crying out as their light slurred down over us.
I felt a fullness in me beginning to build, felt myself dizzily falling back, but Ry caught me in his other arm, propping me there against the wall as he drove his fingers into me again and again, rhythmic, relentless. His knuckles bit perfectly into my clit as he worked the tiny apple of sensitive flesh inside me. I almost screamed, feeling my orgasm flood forwards.
“You want to come for me?” Ry murmured, pressing his face into my hair possessively. I bit his shoulder, trying to stifle my cries. This sweet, layered agony-
“I want to come for you,” I gasped, “Please, please.”
“Come for me, Lily,” Ry said, pressing himself close as his fingers continued to work inside me, and I let the sensation crash through the gates of me, washing through again and again as I fell bonelessly against him, jerking a little with the aftershocks.
Ry smiled wolfishly, his eyes pale in the moonlight, their contrast delicious beneath his dark tan, his dark eyebrows. I thrilled again at how little there was between us, even as it terrified me how helplessly I’d fallen for him. I threw my arms around Ry’s neck, burying my face in his soft hair, locking my legs around his waist.
“You could make me do anything you want,” I said, softly.
He pinned me back against the wall again, his eyes shining. The fullness of his cock against me sent another shockwave through my body, and I leaned back, shivering with his touch, looking up at him.
“I’m drunk with you,” I whispered.
Ry began to grind into me, moaning in a low, strangled voice that made all the hair on my body lift with arousal. We kissed again so hungrily I thought we’d slide down and fuck there on the rough cobble stones.
But he put me down gently and led me by the hand through the gate. I followed, tugging my dress down. We were laughing soundlessly again, still a little breathless, and when we stopped at the door, Ry held his hand to his face and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of me on his hand.
His eyes rolled slightly with pleasure, and then he bumped open the door with his hip, tugging me inside.
The silence of the house instantly folded around us. It felt different to kiss him there, in that unfamiliar dark. Ry lifted me off my feet against him and then sat me onto the kitchen counter, burying his face against my breasts. He squeezed my breasts savagely, until they began to feel heavy and swollen. Then he bit and sucked at my nipples through the wet silk of my dress.
The hot darts of pain made me hiss with lust.
“I need to make you come again, Lily,” he said, his hands forcing insistently between my thighs.
“I can’t, I can’t so soon,” I said, trying to close my legs, but he forced them apart with a strength that just rode the edge of violence. Ry sank his face into me hungrily, taking my hips firmly into his hands, the pressure from his fingers spreading my flesh so that the center of me was all the more bared to him as he opened his mouth against me.
I gasped, so slippery wet that I was soaked all down my thighs, my body begging to sheath him even as it couldn’t take any more arousal. My senses were so exquisitely tortured that I was afraid I’d pee on his lovely, hard-sculptured face.
But Ry’s tongue began to work in expert, slow circles against my clit. One of his hands found its way warmly between my thighs, drawing me tight, stretching me raw. I bucked against his face, my hands clawing at the counter.
“Please please no,” I said, “I can’t, I can’t take this-”
Ry held me steady, the hot, hard velvet of his tongue relentless against my swollen achy flesh, his eyes locking on mine greedily. My nerves sizzled raw. I felt microscopic shooting stars race up the insides of my thighs as he stroked at me continually, restlessly, brinking me to orgasm, letting me slide back down again. I was panting with lust, both our bodies misted wet with sweat. I could see droplets of it on my bared thighs, on the backs of his forearms, his neck.
Ry’s eyes glinted mischievously; he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
That turned me on all the more, even as it made me wildly jealous to know all the women he must have perfected his skills on. Every dial on my body was cranked farther than I’d ever dreamed I could go. The bliss of it was tortuous, unending. With every raw swirl of my nerves, I felt myself sucked all the deeper into his orbit, losing any control I’d ever imagined I’d had.
And then finally, Ry Calhoun decided to let me come. He sucked me up to the precipice of orgasm again, but this time dropped me over the edge with a hard lick. He stuck his tongue inside me as I came in a long, rolling orgasm around him.
“Oh god, oh god-” My cries were animal now, my body so wet that I slid on the counter. Ry dug further into me, his fingers opening me deeply. The effect was shattering. I lost my mind, bucking wildly, and almost blacked out with pleasure. He lifted my legs up onto the counter so I was securely supported as I pulsed hard and then began to sob, utterly released.
Ry moved his face back and forth as light as a butterfly on my thighs, tracing up my electrically lit body with his mouth, pausing gently at my tortured breasts, and then again at my lips.
As I curled inwards, he leaned over me, kissing me sweetly while I sobbed with relief, the gentleness of his kisses smoothing my ragged sense while his hands continued to stroke me lightly. After a moment, he pulled back, biting his lips, as if tasting me again. I looked up at him, too limp to move or speak.
“Now,” he said, “I’m going to fuck you to death.”
I couldn’t even speak English anymore.
I shook my head, trying to move away from him and his vampiric ecstasy. But even as I was overcome, I still felt a clawing, insatiable need for his body. Ry was like some unnameable drug; I was hopelessly addicted.
He began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the tight cut of his abdominals and upper arms. The immediate bolt of lust I felt for his touch drove home how much he already owned me. Ry tossed his shirt to one side, pulling me by one leg open to him again, and undid his pants.
His cock was enormous.
“I’m going to make you come so hard you can’t walk,” Ry said, darkly, pulling me into him like a slack doll. “You’ll have to stay here with me. Then I’m gonna nail you all morning…” His mouth on mine was like hot stone, and I couldn’t resist kissing him back, feeling myself heat up for him all over again as he slid me down to his cock. He ran his thumb inside me again, drawing my skin taut so savagely that I cried out and fell against him, raw and exquisitely stretched.
I throbbed with grinding lust, pulling myself upright again.
“Come fuck me.”
Ry drove himself inside me with a force that made me see stars, fitting his mouth over mine in one of his hungry, soul-sucking kisses, and I wanted all of it; I wanted him to batter me loose, fuck me to death, I didn’t care.
It felt so good that I couldn’t feel anything of myself anymore except a sheer, shooting, bodiless pleasure.
Our bodies were both drenched now, and it felt so good to clutch his hard, naked skin, to see the flash of his tattoo under my hand as I rode his thick cock to Kingdom Come. I let my head fall back, wanging it hard on the cupboards, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except-
I heard someone clear his throat in the doorway.
My eyes snapped open.
Silhouetted in the dim light from the street, an old man stood in the kitchen doorway. He was coolly drinking a cup of tea, his robe loosely belted so I could see the crisp white hair on his chest; his face was craggy and seamed from a lifetime of too much sun and rich food.
Even though his thick white hair was crazed on one side, as if he’d been unable to sleep and now was wandering aimlessly around the mansion, I recognized his face from the oil portrait I’d seen the day before.
He was watching us as if we were stray dogs he’d caught fucking in his house for the thirtieth time. “Christ, another one?” Mr. Calhoun said, finally. He went back out into the hallway.
What did I expect?
But my heart sank through the floor and dissolved. I was humiliated.
I’d been more emotionally exposed than I’d ever felt in my life- and just as suddenly, all the new flowerings in me folded up and died off.
I shoved Ry away, trying to cover myself with the damp ruins of my dress. But Ry had already half-turned, zipping up his pants hastily in a way that filled me with disgust.
“Dad-!” Ry said, rushing after him. Then, torn, he whirled in the doorway, heading back towards me. “Lily, wait here. Dad!”
But I was already out the door.
Ry chased me outside. “Please, please, you don’t understand. He didn’t mean it like it sounded-”
I was crying, and furious with myself for crying. “I do, I understand you perfectly. You just want-you just wanted to get laid.”
Ry tried to kiss me, to take me into his arms. I wouldn’t let him.
“Baby, don’t you remember any of the things we’ve said? How I’ve made you feel?” Ry said. “I know you feel this, too, I know you do, I could feel it. Everything in you answers everything in me, Lily. You keep forgetting all of that whenever something-”
“Bullshit! I can’t believe anything you say! I can’t believe any of this; I don’t know who the fuck you are- why are you being so fucking nice to me, anyway? I don’t like people doing things for me, remember? You know why? Because I can’t fucking trust anybody! I don’t trust you, I can’t, I won’t!”
Somehow, I was screaming.
“Lily, enough!” His voice cracked my name like a pistol shot. I felt my body respond to the command in his voice, instantly hating myself for it.
“Don’t. Just don’t. All right?” I said.
“At least let me walk you to your-”
“Don’t fucking touch me. I don’t want you to follow me, I don’t want you to touch me. Leave me alone!”
I ran into the dark.
I drove home with all my windows down, needing air in my face.
Cold, clean air. Hungry black air. Anything to wash away the electricity, the unrelenting connection that still remained like an
unbroken thread between me and Ry Calhoun. No matter how far away I was from him.
Pauline is a bookworm, trail runner and bourbon lover. Her hobbies include mild hypochondria and ill-advised matchmaking.
Hosted by Love, Lust & Erotic Pleasures
(Hearts of Owyhee novella)
Prairie Rose Publications
Available on Kindle Unlimited
The Murdock brothers have a fine ranch in Owyhee County, Idaho. The only things missing are wives and kids, so Hec orders a couple of brides for Christmas. The catch is, woman-shy Zeke doesn’t know about it. Dinah and Stella have a plan— If the grooms don’t work out, they’ll start a restaurant. Farm chores are hard enough, but a peckish chicken and a raging blizzard don’t help matters. Can Hec and Zeke capture their hearts?
There’s just something about Christmas that has “romance” splashed all over it—the season for sharing and putting our differences aside.
The whole idea of mail-order brides—why a woman would leave everything she knew for a man she didn’t know—fascinates me. In this story, we have two brides. Dinah Goode lost her husband and baby within a few weeks. Her goal is to own a restaurant and women couldn’t be chefs in Cleveland. But those rules didn’t apply in the Idaho Territory where women could own property in their own right, and the only way she could afford to get there was to accept a proposal as a mail-order bride.
Schoolteacher Stella Clemmons has stars in her eyes—she wants children but she’s already nearly thirty years old and time’s marching on so she decided to accept a mail-order proposal. She’s nervous about doing so, but meeting Dinah on the train was fortuitous because now she has a plan. If Mr. Ezekiel Murdock doesn’t pan out, she and Dinah will still be fine. Restaurants were few and far between—and even then, she could still find the right man to marry.
But neither lady knows one thing about country life. And neither brother is quite sure what to do with these city women.
I loved the idea that Hec ordered brides for himself and his brother for Christmas. How romantic! But can you imagine how surprised Zeke would be? How would he react? And how does the culture of the East blend with that of the West?
This novella is part of the Prairie Rose Publications Third Birthday Bash. Free books are being offered the week of August 13 – 20 at http://prairierosepublications.blogspot.com.
Would you like a copy of I Heard the Brides on Christmas Day? Just tell us what you love about Christmas stories. Do you read them year-around? Does the snow cool you off on a hot August night?
Add to Goodreads
He’s silent––but his
touch speaks louder than words.
Kenneth Gordon grew up in Milford, NH and still lives in that state. He currently has three novels with Class Act Books: Dark City, Cadre of Vampires, and Harmonic Differential.
He took creative writing in college and after graduation, short stories and some fan fiction. When he isn’t writing scifi-infused horror novels or horror-touched science fiction, Ken plays PC games, electric and acoustic guitars, and drums. He also holds a brown belt in Kung Fu.
What does it mean to be human? How can we explain evil in the world? What if an AI confronts you about a flaw in your programming?
Join Jeremiah Xidorn as he is taken from the world he thinks he knows into a place of decision. Will he side with his captors; will he fight back? Delve into these and other questions…
“I’ve been promoted. I am now in my boss’ position.” Joe flailed his arms with glee.
“That’s great. Congratulations!” they all said in unison.
“I don’t know. He just left. An appointment I guess,” Sarah responded.
“The ’droids are settin’ things up, so I’ll stay out of their hair for a bit.” Jeremiah spun around as if to show off to his friends. . Something was off, but he couldn’t pin it down. Joe had disappeared, and no one seemed to know where he went.
“I’ll find him,” he told himself and bolted for his new office.
The androids had done their work quicker than expected, and Jeremiah’s office was quiet when he got there. He had to use the scanner to get in. Immediately, he was taken aback. On his desk were pictures of his family that he didn’t put there. Setting that thought aside for the moment, he jacked into the phone system and sent the sequence to dial.
He called Joe’s office. No answer. A moment later, he called the central office to see if Joe could be located.
The automated attendant replied, “We are sorry, that person is no longer employed at this company.”
A sense of panic raised the hair on the back of his neck. Immediately, he ran with every ounce of strength to his friend’s office. It was empty. No trace that Joe worked there or had ever worked there was found. It was swept clean.
“Maybe I went to the wrong place,” he thought. “All these offices look the same.”
To his own chagrin, he knew too well the location of his friend’s office. The paranoia built to a steady state when, upon finding his other compatriots, they had no knowledge
that Joe had ever been part of their group. Jeremiah’s heart sank. He even checked the payroll office and no trace of his friend could be found.
“I think I’ll go home. I’m not feeling well,” he said out loud.
The security desk saw him approach. “We’re sorry you aren’t feeling well. Go home.”
Even in his emotional state, he couldn’t detect any emotion coming from the people behind the desk. It was as if they had been replaced by replicants. “Yeah, thanks. I will.”
Jeremiah made his way to a CAB, slid in and told it where to go. He was going over to Joe’s house. The place where he lived was no longer a single family dwelling, but a high rise multi-unit condo style building. There was no trace that Joe ever existed.
Jeremiah checked the street sign to make sure the CAB didn’t take him to the wrong place.
There was no mistake. Joe had been intentionally erased.
“There is a cadre of vampires in my town, but no one believes me!” These words were spoken into an electronic device that was found in the woods. John Abbott is now missing! Follow Deputy Sheriff Fred Turner as the mystery deepens and people who had gone missing are now showing up on a lonely road at night with glowing red eyes, pale skin, bald heads, and a taste for blood. Is it all real or just a delusion fabricated by a tortured soul?
“I may have made many trips to the future, to the past and points all over the galaxy, but I cannot remember any of them…”
This is how the journey of Andros, an astrophysicist professor at Berkley, CA begins. He is driven mad by dreams of whirling lights he cannot explain. These dreams lead him to build a ship capable of travel to the future, the past and alternate universes. The only problem is, once he returns, he cannot remember the journey. To overcome this, he uses a video camera attached to his head to record his adventures.
Andros awakes thinking it all was a dream, until a mysterious package arrives in the mail.
It’s BOOK RELEASE TIME!! Come join us as we celebrate Ellie’s new Contemporary Rock Romance!
Heart’s Insanity: An Angel Fire Rock Romance available AUGUST 9, 2016!!
Skye Summers endured a tragic past. She wants what the past stole, and despite lingering scars, she’s surviving and thriving. Now she cures the sick, heals the wounded, and takes care of those clinging to life. The only person she can’t heal is herself, because Skye is too broken for love.
Ash Dean has it all: Fame, fortune, and the adoration of screaming fans. The constant parties, drugs, alcohol, and an endless string of one-night stands are taking their toll. He gives and his fans take, until he’s lost within the crowd. He wants someone to see him for the man he wishes to be rather than the one he’s become.
That’s the proposition…
It would be insane to accept and Skye’s a fool to agree, but she’s tired of playing it safe, besides what could go wrong?
Skye pushed past the morning Metro commuters and fumbled for the lanyard at her neck, not interested in engaging in another conversation with Ash.
The frigid wind spilled down the long escalators descending into the DC Metro along with a crowd of bundled travelers. A true feat of engineering, the warren of Metro lines, and cavernous design of the platforms, kept the busy subway system of the nation’s capitol one of the cleanest among large metropolitan cities. Why was he chasing her down? The last thing she needed was some cocksure asshole trying to pick her up.
“Goddammit. Stop,” Ash yelled, three steps away. She stretched towards the turnstile, ready to swipe her pass, but then his hand fell on her shoulder and yanked her to a stop.
With a yelp, she reached for his wrist, or tried to. She’d forgotten about the drink she carried. Hot cocoa spewed out directly toward his chest, and the steaming liquid splattered across his taut, white cotton shirt.
Although many of those passing by gawked, as a whole, the crowd parted around them. “Oh my God!” The empty paper cup tumbled to the floor, and Skye shook out her hand, hot cocoa flying. Droplets splattered his jeans and the tops of his converse sneakers. The tail end of the dark, chocolaty goodness coated his hand as well as his shirt. “Fuck.” He pulled the burning fabric away from his chest.
Only then did she notice her backpack slung over his shoulder. Her attention shifted from the dark brown stain on his shirt, to the burning hot cocoa dripping off his hand, and back to her bag. “I’m so sorry.”
She prayed the liquid had cooled enough not to scald. Ash pinched his shirt and held it out from his body. His nose scrunched. “What the fuck is this?” He leveled the full intensity of his gaze on her. Then he sniffed his shirt. “That’s not coffee.” The wet t-shirt outlined a six-pack beneath the drenched fabric, and she couldn’t help but stare.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lip.
“I feel bad about your drink.” Her knees nearly bucked, weakened under the press of that thumb. He had found a way inside her private bubble, and the way he took her in, with those mesmerizing eyes, made her world tilt and tremble.
When his palm cupped her jaw, her stomach tumbled. Pressing a palm to her belly did nothing to calm the riot going on in there.
And then it happened. His eyes shifted between her mouth and her eyes, and he leaned in for a kiss.
Ellie Masters has been exploring the worlds of romance, dark erotica, science fiction, and fantasy by reading and writing the stories she likes to read. When not writing, Ellie can be found outside, where her passion for all things outdoor reigns supreme: off roading, ATV-ing, scuba diving, hiking, and breathing fresh air, are just a few of her favorite pursuits.
Wife, lover, and mother are her most treasured roles, but Ellie has played many parts: counter-girl at McDonalds, a research assistant in a Nanofabrication facility, rocket scientist, physician, and now a published author with the release of her debut novel Changing Roles. Ellie is adding to her publications, HEART’S INSANITY: an Angel Fire Rock Romance coming August 2016.
She has lived all over the United States, east, west, north, south and central, but grew up under the Hawaiian sun. Now, Ellie is proud to call herself a Southern transplant, learning to say y’all and ‘bless her heart’ with the best of them. She lives with her beloved husband, two children who refuse to flee the nest, and four fur-babies; three cats who rule the household, and a dog who wants nothing other than for the cats to be his friends. The cats have a different opinion regarding this matter.
Ellie’s favorite way to spend an evening is curled up on a couch, laptop in place, watching a fire, drinking a good wine, and bringing forth all the characters from her mind to the page and hopefully into the hearts of her readers.
About the Author:
Dianne Duvall is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Immortal Guardians paranormal romance series and The Gifted Ones series. Her books have twice been nominated for the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Vampire Romance and are routinely deemed Top Picks by RT Book Reviews, The Romance Reviews, and/or Night Owl Reviews. Reviewers have called Dianne’s books “utterly addictive” (RT Book Reviews), “fast-paced and humorous” (Publishers Weekly), “extraordinary” (Long and Short Reviews), and “wonderfully imaginative” (The Romance Reviews).
Dianne loves all things creative. When she isn’t writing, Dianne is active in the independent film industry and has even appeared on-screen, crawling out of a moonlit grave and wielding a machete like some of the vampires she has created in her books.
For the latest news on upcoming releases, contests, and more, please visit http://www.DianneDuvall.com. You can also find Dianne online . . .
Max is the author of dark, and highly emotional romance. Her Butcher Boys series is centered around a group of ex-street kids who have teamed up with an indebted motorcycle club to take down a notorious drug lord. And her new series, the Fallen Aces MC, is a spin-off from this dark and dangerous world. Her writing has been described as ‘gripping’, and ‘addictive’, taking you on an ’emotional roller coaster ride’.
Originally born and bred in New Zealand, Max now resides with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia. Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn’t change a thing. When she’s not engrossed in her dark and twisted fictional worlds, she can be found enjoying the outdoors while 4wd-ing with her family.