Out Now—Winning the Campaign Manager by Lucy Felthouse

Blurb:

Politics has never been so sexy!

Cade Avery is running for a position on his local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary, eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link)

Evernight Publishing

BookStrand

 Smashwords

Other links will be added here when they become available: 

http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/winning-the-campaign-manager/

Goodreads

Excerpt:

“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled, fixing his long-time friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He slammed his hands down on his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and causing water to splash over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do such a thing?”

Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and frequent outbursts, didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk, she calmly stated, “You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager. And as for the why, I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a handful of tissues from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the liquid he’d spilled. “Seems like an unnecessary expense.”

With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you want to win this bloody election or not?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid question is that?”

“Well then, you need a campaign manager. The rest of the team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle that side of things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone with … expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image, make you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”

Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and dumping it in the wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She stood, the ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined and immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to get.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What’s wrong with my public image?”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing, Mary’s cool demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are you fucking serious?”

She may have used the deep breath and probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less, meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison with his huge frame and fiery personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly terrifying. Possibly the fact that she rarely got angry was what made it so potent when she did. Mary’s ire could turn even the thickest-skinned person into a blubbering wreck.

“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly, “come on, sit down. Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”

“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I don’t generally need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give your feedback, and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed her eyes. “But today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Raising his eyebrows at her increasing irritation, and wondering if there was something going on in her private life that was making her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”

A few seconds of silence passed, in which Mary again seemed to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said, “All right. But don’t forget; you asked for it.”

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Out Now - Get Off Easy by Sara Brookes #bdsm #menage #newrelease

Blurb

At Noble House, fantasy has no limits. Log on and enter a world of your most secret desires. And remember, there is nothing more noble than the pursuit of passion…

I shouldn’t be watching, but I can’t look away.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Ford “Saint” Templar or Boyce Denali in person—although the gorgeous men have haunted too many of my fantasies to count. But now they’re here, right on my screen. Together. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

And I want in.

Noble House is the kingdom of geek kink, where the thrill comes from knowing that someone is always watching. All I have to do is be brave enough to turn off the screen, walk through the door and ask Saint and Boyce to take me back.

We used to be so good together, but we’re different people now. Will Saint’s commands still bring me to my knees with desire? Will the anticipation of Boyce’s touch still drive me wild? Will I be able to survive the pleasure of having them both?

It’s time to stop watching. I need this. I need them. And just maybe, they need me, too.

Buy links:

Carina Press

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Apple

Google

Excerpt

Darkness surrounded Grae. In her life. In her mind. And even in her office as she leaned back in her overstuffed, overpriced chair and yawned. The creature comforts weren’t enough to keep her interested in the image flickering on her computer screen. Not that well-chiseled abs didn’t do it for her. They totally did. But considering the fact she’d been the one to draw, define, and enhance each one of those tongue-licking indentions, the final product had lost its appeal hours ago.

As long as the female audience members went wild, she would keep plodding along. Not to mention, if she didn’t deliver, she wouldn’t be paid her hard-earned check. As tempting as it was to continue, she desperately needed a break.

A quick glance at her trusty desktop clock showed she hadn’t stopped for over thirty-six hours. Since she was on a deadline, her director’s schedule won out over sleep and basic hygiene. Especially because she was under contract. If she wanted another shot at working with this director, she needed to have this guy’s abs painted on and swoon-worthy in the next three hours.

One hell of a reward awaited her after she completed her work, too.

As she made her way to the kitchen to refill her carafe, she tapped the reminder postcard that arrived two days ago against her chin. Fresh coffee would get her through. At least it had to. She’d worked under tighter deadlines, and on less sleep, than this project.

Thirty-six hours with no sleep was kid’s stuff.

Her reward, however, was not child appropriate.

No way. No how.

Kochran Duke was throwing one of his famous parties tonight. The events, where participation was allowed by members both at the club and online, were not low-key and always the highlight of the month. It also meant there was a distinct possibility Saint and Boyce would attend. They never missed a party at the converted armory. No telling what they’d be doing, though.

It was always a surprise when it came to those two.

She shoved a fresh filter into the brew basket, dumped in beans and water, and realized she didn’t care. They could sit and read nursery rhymes to one another, and she’d still get off. Wasn’t as though she’d joined Kochran’s exclusive website only to watch the pretty boys play with their toys.

Okay, well, it wasn’t the only reason.

There was a touch of practicality to why she chose to spend her night watching porn.

And it had nothing to do with satisfying her voyeuristic tendencies.

Her former Master recommended the online dungeon when it became obvious she had all the desire and drive to submit, but none of the time. Noble House offered several levels of membership depending on participation or observation. The fees were steep, but it was a small price to pay for satisfying a guilty indulgence from the privacy of her home office.

Once she’d discovered two of her closest friends from college were Dominants at Noble House, her interest in the private club increased tenfold. Thanks to alumni updates from the university, she’d known they’d continued to date after they graduated. Even knew where they lived because of an article published six months ago in the yearly alumni newsletter about the building they’d saved from the wrecking ball and turned into an apartment complex. Knowing they were still together, and trying to change the world, warmed her heart.

And a few other strategic lady bits.

Someday she would visit Noble House. Though the idea of taking a vacation long enough to visit Northern California sounded absurd. With the constant trail of work following her wherever she went, taking a break was unheard of. Visiting friends she hadn’t seen in more than a decade was even more ludicrous. As was confessing she’d seen every one of their broadcasted scenes since she’d become a member.

And hunted through the archives.

Several times over.

The coffeepot chimed. She dumped the contents into the carafe, then grabbed the French vanilla creamer. As she made her way back to her spacious office, her eyes slowly adjusted to the permanent darkness she’d created thanks to heavy light-blocking blinds. Day or night, the lighting in the room never changed. When she’d decided to leave the guaranteed contract with the big-budget movie studio behind and become a freelancer, she’d invested in all the bells and whistles. No sense working from home without the proper equipment.

Six monitors wasn’t too much, right?

A quick check of the emails she’d been ignoring for the past few hours indicated the director was getting aggravated. Time to buckle down and turn out this masterpiece. Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, Grae leaned back to watch the fight sequence she’d been working on for the past week. She noted a few minor inconsistencies she could smooth over while she waited to see if she had approval. No need to waste her time if the director wanted to ditch the segment.

Task completed, she zipped the file, then dropped it onto her secure server. An email containing the link to the director was next and meant her part was complete. She flipped a switch to change over to her personal computer tower and waited for it to boot. When it finally beeped in greeting, she directed the browser window to Noble House’s main site. A few keystrokes, and the splash page for tonight’s event flashed onto the huge screen she’d mounted on the wall.

Two very familiar faces stared back at her.

Boyce Denali, the one on the left, wore heavy-duty leathers. Too bulky for working inside the club. These were the kind used for protection should he take a spill. Though she doubted he would ever be so careless. Boyce was the kind of man the pavement moved for. Dark blond, piercing blues, muscles to die for, and a chiseled bone structure even the most formidable Viking would find intimidating.

Ford Templar, on the other hand, was all dark and mysterious. Nicknamed Saint at the club, Ford was broody. Sulky. Dark hair. Olive skin. Lean muscles. The dark to Boyce’s light. Except his eyes. Those eyes. Eerily colored, they reminded her of glass Coke bottles. Rumor had it his gaze could pierce right through to someone’s soul. While Boyce held a commanding air that demanded to be heard, Saint wore his power subtly but was still all dominant authority.

Seemingly connected at the hip, the two men scened together every week. Much to her delight. Grae didn’t think she’d ever seen them work with a submissive alone. Not that the choice to only carry out ménage scenes affected their standing at the club. Not in the least. Every time they worked together, their scenes had been nothing short of spectacular.

“Let’s see what you’re up to tonight, boys.”

Author bio:

Sara Brookes has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this geekiness, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story.

Links:

Website: http://sarabrookes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/sara_brookes

Facebook: http://facebook.com/brookesofbooks

New release announcement list: http://eepurl.com/mbG31

Release blitz organized by Writer MarketingServices.

Release Blitz - The Psychology of Dreams 101 by K D Grace - @kd_grace

Blurb:

What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

Buy Links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/psychofdreams

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2j3KOUv

iBooks: http://apple.co/2i5xBGu

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2iDA7r6

PG Excerpt:

You look beautiful when you dream.

That was the first sentence; that was how it all started.

Leah thought it might be some sort of lucid dreaming when she saw the words scrawled across the page of her open journal on the nightstand. She’d had every intention of asking her instructor about it, but then she couldn’t really tell him the dream that had brought it on, could she? It sounded like the sort of thing the unconscious of a pathetically shy introvert would write to herself from the dream world because she had no one in the waking world to say it to her and, while that might be true—the pathetic introvert part, she didn’t want to make it more obvious to her instructor than it probably already was—especially when she had half a crush on him.

Besides, it also sounded like the sort of thing a sex-crazed slut might write to herself when her vibe batteries ran down. That made her sound even more pathetic—the vibe and the batteries part, not the slut part.

She had just started a course on the psychology of dreams. She tried to take advantage of adult education classes whenever possible. It got her out of the house and forced her to interact with other people—real flesh and blood people. With her job, online shopping, online banking, direct debit, grocery delivery, she never had to leave the house really, and that suited her just fine, but she knew it shouldn’t. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Sometimes going to the classes was more of an ordeal than a pleasure, but that was not the case for the psychology of dreams class.

She had to admit, she’d taken that course because she’d overheard several women giggling and talking about how hot the instructor was and how their dreams had become very sexy since they’d started his class. A part of the class work was to keep a dream journal. The women had been sitting at the table next to her in the coffee shop poring over their journals together and laughing about how they thought Al—Al Foster was the instructor—would respond when he read their dreams. She’d been taking a photography course then, and it had been one of the few times Leah had actually forced herself to initiate conversation, asking the women about the class. They were only too happy to share, and soon she was laughing and blushing and joking right along with them as they told her all about the psychology of dreams course and how it had truly stimulated their dream life. The next term, she signed right up.

A dream journal—that had sounded simple enough when Al—he’d insisted they all call him Al—had explained what it was. All she had to do was write down her dreams every morning when she woke up. But by the time she sat down at the breakfast table with her bowl of cereal and her coffee, dream journal and pen at the ready, she could remember nothing but bits of broken images—nothing dramatic, nothing with hidden psychological meaning—certainly nothing sexy.

After a week of drawing blanks from the dream world, Al had helpfully suggested that she keep the journal open by her bed, and that she set an alarm for every two hours. When the alarm went off, she was then to write just a few key words of what she remembered, words that would jog her memory in the morning.

The first time the alarm went off, she woke disoriented and confused. By the time she remembered why she’d set the alarm, she also remembered she’d forgotten to set the trash out for pick-up. She remembered that she needed to order some more vitamins online. She remembered that she needed to put the clothes in the dryer, but what she didn’t remember was her dreams.

The second alarm, she must have unconsciously shut off before she got fully awake, but on the third, she managed a little dream snippet about chasing a big dog through the local McDonalds, a dog who had shamelessly stolen her Big Mac right out of her hand. She hated Big Macs, and big dogs made her nervous. Well, that was at least something to analyze, wasn’t it? Though Freud had insisted that sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, surely that didn’t hold true for Big Macs, which she didn’t like, and big dogs, which she didn’t trust. Al would be pleased.

The second night there was a dream about a leather jacket with a huge snake for a collar, a snake that talked—kind of like a parrot. There was a dream in which she’d gone to the supermarket and ended up in a maze, unable to find her way out. There was a dream of planting begonias in front of the convenience store around the corner. For the rest of the week, she was excited to see that the setting of the alarms was working. Her key words helped her to remember details, and the rest was easy.

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. Find Grace’s novels here.

Find K D Here:
                                                                   
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/         
               http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk       
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace         

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Release Blitz: The Beauty and the Badass - Lucy Felthouse - @cw1985

Blurb:

From the moment Alexei Miles sets eyes on the kickboxing instructor at his new gym, he’s enthralled. She’s strong and sexy, and he senses something in her that speaks to his deepest desires. Bored of meaningless one-night stands, Alexei vows to find out more about the beautiful badass. He hopes his senses are correct—that her desires will match his own, and that his period of unsatisfying sexual encounters is over.

Zoe Harrison notices the new guy as soon as he walks into the gym—difficult not to, really, given he’s a six-feet-plus gorgeous Viking. As well as being attractive, he awakens something deep inside that she’d almost forgotten about. Men that can handle Zoe’s busy lifestyle are few and far between. Add to that her very specific sexual appetites and it’s little wonder she’s been single for so long. Is the Viking about to change all that?

Note: The Beauty and the Badass has been previously released as part of the Dirty Doms boxed set.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/beautybadass

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2iX4eqe

iBooks: http://apple.co/2ivPlfu

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2i2OgdX

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2hKxPVM

Excerpt:

Alexei followed John into the building, a sense of trepidation hanging over him. It was never easy moving to a new place, and as an army brat he’d had more than his fair share of relocating. Dealing with new landlords, new neighbors, new neighborhood. Not to mention the job side of it—new role, new building, new boss…

He’d spent the last month dealing with all that, and now – thanks to the friendship that had sprung up between him and his colleague, John – he was getting back on track with his hobbies, too. John wasn’t a gym bunny, exactly, but he did like to keep in shape, which was why he’d recommended his local sports gym to Alexei when he’d asked.

“Just a bunch of folks keeping fit and trim, letting off some steam,” he’d said. “No posturing, silly competition, or showing off. God, I reckon if someone started posing in front of a mirror in that place, they’d get their arse kicked.”

He’d made the place sound a bit rough and ready, but that was fine by Alexei. As long as it had the equipment he needed, it would suit him down to the ground. It was made all the more attractive by the price – around half of what the more traditional gyms wanted in membership fees. And he only had to pay when he actually attended. He wasn’t sure yet how much working away his new job was going to entail, but it still made more sense to use a place that had a pay-as-you-go system. At least until he got settled.

They passed a reception desk of sorts, which looked like somewhere the building’s owner probably did the admin and accounts. After that, there was a row of seating up against the wall on their right hand side, and the space opened up on their left. Wooden flooring stretched from just beside them to the far end of the long area, and a boxing ring sat in one corner.

Alexei raised his eyebrows. It was a bit rough and ready, but it was well-appointed and clearly well-used. Much better to have a place with regular, dedicated clients than some gleaming, spick and span monstrosity of a gym that nobody ever went to, or went more to lift weights and gaze lovingly at themselves in the mirrors than to actually do a thorough workout.

He continued following John along the carpeted area that ran around the nearest two sides of the wooden flooring, allowing people to access the rooms opposite the entrance without getting in the way of the people using the main space. It was currently taken up by what looked like an all-female kickboxing class. And they were good. He certainly wouldn’t like to piss any of them off—they could definitely handle themselves.

Alexei was just about to look away—he didn’t want them to think he was some kind of pervert for staring—when his gaze alighted on the instructor. She was a petite blonde, with a long, sleek ponytail sitting high up on her head, which swung as she walked from one student to the next, passing comment, suggesting improvements, and so on. He was so mesmerized by her that he forgot all about not staring. In fact, he forgot about pretty much everything, and let out an “ooof!” as he slammed straight into John’s broad, hard back.

“Hey,” John said, turning around and putting a hand on Alexei’s shoulder to steady him. “Look where you’re bloody going, mate. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Alexei opened his mouth to reply, but his brain refused to supply any words. Instead, his eyes gave him away, as he couldn’t resist another glance in her direction.

Following his gaze, John smirked when he spotted just who had distracted Alexei so much. “The cute blonde, I take it?”

Alexei nodded, his face growing hot at the thought someone might have seen what happened. At the thought she might have seen. “Who is she?”

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Release blitz hosted by Writer MarketingServices.

Release Blitz - The Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set (Books 6-9) by Maggie Marr

Blurb Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set Books 6-9:

Get all four Travati Brothers in one low-priced boxed set. The sexy Travati Brothers Justin, Leo, Anthony, and Devon and the women who tame them are in one boxed set and for a *LIMITED* time the Travati Brother Bad Boy Eligible Billionaire Series is only 6.99! Read A Forever Love, A Billionaire for Christmas, A Convenient Arrangement and A Forbidden Love. Enjoy each luscious love story of these Bad Boy Travati Brother Billionaires!

Buy Links:

 Amazon

iBooks

Nook

Kobo

Google Play

Excerpt from A Forever Love (Eligible Billionaires Book Six)

Justin Travati didn’t have a son. In his twenties he’d been as diligent about preventing accidental reproduction as he was with takeovers and acquisitions, and he was damned good about due diligence in deals. Now, years later, children weren’t an option.

Or so he’d thought.

His hard stare pulled away from the Manhattan skyline outside his office window and flicked toward his computer screen. His eyes traveled the words strung together in the e-mail. Impossible. The correspondence had to be a prank, a hoax, a way to extort money from him for whatever ill-conceived plan this person named Max had.

Max. Justin’s father had been named Max. His child? Named Max?

Impossible. Utterly incomprehensible. He pushed the button on his speakerphone. “Liza, get me Roger in security. Tell him I need him now.” Without listening for his assistant’s response, he clicked the Off button. Again, for the fourth time, he read the words sent from someone claiming to be his son with the name Maxwell Hayes. He clicked on the address. MHayes@RockwaterFarms.net.

What the hell was Rockwater Farms? With swift finger strokes across the keyboard, Justin searched. His eyes ate up the results. A picture of rolling hills, an enormous red barn, wheat, livestock, and a restaurant … the best restaurant between Chicago and San Francisco. Which wasn’t saying much. The middle of the country was a wasteland of repressed, unimaginative people. But this place …

He scrolled. Then clicked on the Team button. The chef, Nina Hayes; her father, the founder of Rockwater Farm; and the CEO … A. Hayes.

His heart jackknifed. A roar filled his ears.

Fire-red hair, a halo of untamed curls framing her fair-skinned face and bright green eyes, high-cut cheekbones, and a mouth with lips … those lips.

He remembered those lips.

He remembered that mouth.

He remembered that hair gliding through his fingers.

One night. How old had the boy in the e-mail said he was? He clicked back to the correspondence. Counted the years in his mind … clicked back to the picture of Aubrey. Older now, but no less beautiful. He guessed no less feisty and no less self-righteous than she’d been fifteen years before. A sigh crossed his lips.

Damn.

The impossible was possible, and in his soul he knew …

Justin pressed the button on his speakerphone. “Liza, book me dinner at The Red Barn at Rockwater Farms. Once we have a date then clear my schedule and call the pilots.” His gaze remained locked on Aubrey’s eyes. It would seem there was something interesting in Kansas after all.

Author Bio:

Maggie Marr is the author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She writes smart, sexy, women and the men they love. She got her start in Hollywood pushing the mail cart at ICM, but quickly rose through the ranks to become a motion picture literary agent. As well as writing, she maintains a boutique legal practice dedicated to the needs of creatives & entrepreneurs. She is the current President of Los Angeles Romance Authors (LARA) and legal adviser to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA). Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn’t taking care of her clients or writing she can be found reading, chasing kids, or exercising her rescue pup

Social Media:

Website:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/

Newsletter:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/about/newsletter

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/maggiemarrbooks

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/maggiemarr

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30741954-a-forbidden-love

Release blitz hosted by Writer MarketingServices.

Release Blitz - The Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set (Books 1-5) by Maggie Marr

Blurb Eligible Billionaires Boxed Set Books 1-5:

For a *LIMITED* time Get five Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires for one ultra low price! Meet Cole, Tristan, Nick, Ryan, and Trevor. Jet set from South America, to L.A. from the exotic resort of Mesquale to France, with a media mogul, corporate raider, real estate tycoon, resort owner, and restaurant heir. Each Bad Boy Billionaire is shockingly sexy both in and out of the bedroom. Enjoy all five of the Bad Boy Eligible Billionaires!

Buy links:

Amazon

iBooks

Nook

Kobo

GooglePlay

Excerpt from Can’t Buy Me Love (Eligible Billionaires Book One)

“Is it always this hard?”

For Cole Jackson only one response answered Meg’s question: Yes. Every conquest was the outcome of a hard-fought battle, every win the results of a decimated other side, every challenge more difficult than the last. Otherwise, what was the point? With ease came softness and with softness a swift defeat.

Cole yanked at the knot of his cobalt blue tie, tired of the daylong stranglehold. On the far side of his office window, night sucked away the last light of day as the sweltering orange sun surrendered to the Pacific. The streaks of pink, orange, and fuchsia that decorated the sky failed to captivate Cole. He could witness such displays of color on any horizon, in any city, on any night—so why waste time with this sunset?

Cole reached for the crystal decanter stationed on the bar in his office. His pour was generous and neat. Amber liquid shimmered in the final rays of the sun. He sipped the bourbon. Heat slid down his throat, but the liquor didn’t scorch him nearly as much as the woman who, after a six-month absence, now stood in his office.

“There are cell phone towers up and down the entire California coastline and the one spot in Los Angeles where I can’t get a signal is your office?”

Meg Parson’s voice was brighter and lighter than the curves of her body would suggest. She shifted her weight and her hip teased forward against her suit skirt. The outline of bone against taut fabric taunted Cole with hints of lace panties. In a careless moment his gaze roamed over her legs, caressed her skirt, and brushed over the outline of her breasts.

Hunger for Meg clutched his belly and twisted hard. Cole turned toward the ocean and the unwatched sunset—away from Meg. Better to feign interest in the blossom of color on the horizon than to indulge his desires to stare at his colleague and former assistant.

“Hello? Hello?” Meg said into the phone.

In the window, Cole caught Meg’s reflection as she flipped her long sable-colored hair over her right shoulder. She tightened her jaw and closed her eyes.

His stomach clenched as Meg’s tongue caressed her pout of a mouth. Cole took another slug of his drink, hopeful that the liquid heat burning down his throat would distract him from his desires.

No. Luck.

He set his jaw in opposition to his craving and pulled his gaze away from Meg’s indelible imprint on the glass. He didn’t need the reflection; her every sinew was seared into his mind but Meg was off-limits.

In the three years she’d worked for him, Meg made herself indispensable, and he had been fool enough to let her become a necessity. She knew everything about him—from the way he took his coffee down to his shoe size. She ran his business affairs seamlessly. He leaned on her. Depended on her. Cole even began to need her and needing anyone was intolerable. To need a person was to appear weak. Need allowed vulnerability to take root. Need was the end of strength. No, to need Meg was completely unacceptable. 

“Yes, hi. This is Meg Parson. I have Cole Jackson for Stan Morton,” Meg said.

With the sound of his name on her lips he faced her. This was a business deal, nothing more.

“Of course I’ll hold.” Meg covered the mouthpiece and her blue eyes sparkled with the thrill of the deal. “Why didn’t we use your landline?”

Cole’s heart quickened as Meg’s excitement spilled over to him. Cole sipped his drink and watched Meg over the top of his glass. This time, her proximity, and not the bourbon, seared through him.

“They’re getting Stan,” Meg whispered, still covering the mouthpiece.

Stan Morton owned one of the two things Cole wanted most in the world: TBC Studios.

And the other thing?

Cole’s eyes traced the porcelain curve of Meg’s neck as she twirled a piece of hair between her thumb and pointer finger. Well, the other thing wasn’t for sale, nor was it negotiable. Office dalliances weren’t Cole’s style and neither was a long-term commitment. Meg was the type of woman who required he break both rules, and Cole preferred his relationships exactly as they’d been for the past decade: hot, fast, and disposable.

This deal was Meg’s baby, and once it was consummated Cole would have to promote Meg. If he waited any longer another company would swoop in and grab her. One of his competitors might already be trying.

“How will you celebrate?” Cole rarely asked Meg anything so personal. A dusty pink flush crept over Meg’s ivory-colored cheeks.

Protectiveness surged through Cole.

“I’m thinking Bali.” A smile started in Meg’s eyes and quickly encompassed her whole face as she thought about a luxurious and well-deserved beach vacation.

“Nice choice.”

“And you?”

Author Bio:

Maggie Marr is the author of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She writes smart, sexy, women and the men they love. She got her start in Hollywood pushing the mail cart at ICM, but quickly rose through the ranks to become a motion picture literary agent. As well as writing, she maintains a boutique legal practice dedicated to the needs of creatives & entrepreneurs. She is the current President of Los Angeles Romance Authors (LARA) and legal adviser to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA). Maggie loves all things pop culture and when she isn’t taking care of her clients or writing she can be found reading, chasing kids, or exercising her rescue pup

Social Media:

Website:  http://www.maggiemarr.net/

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Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30741954-a-forbidden-love

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Release Blitz: Doctor's Orders by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #mm #kink #bdsm

Kinky M/M Erotic Romance Novella by Lucy Felthouse, Doctor’s Orders, Out Now!  

Blurb:

Hospital porter Aaron Miller isn’t expecting a very exciting birthday. He and his doctor boyfriend, Blake Colville, are working opposite shifts, leaving Aaron to go home to an empty house and the prospect of another shift the following day. Just as he’s leaving work, however, an unexpected sexy encounter in a supply cupboard leaves him feeling in a much more celebratory mood. And an impending dirty weekend away with Blake just puts the icing on the non-existent cake. But who needs cake when you’re dating a dominant doctor?

Note: Doctor’s Orders has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/doctorsorders

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2h1nfXa

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2hH8kFl

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hc3lgM

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hT1zye

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2h1lKIo

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33278227-doctor-s-orders

Excerpt:

Aaron hummed contentedly as he walked along the white-painted corridor towards the locker room. He was happy in his job as a hospital porter. He might not be saving lives, like his doctor boyfriend, Blake, but he liked to think he was improving them. He made the effort with the patients he transported around—or the ones that were well enough to hold a conversation with him, anyway. He chatted to them, showed an interest, tried to make them laugh, always remained positive, even when things were bleak. That was his way of spreading a little cheer, or helping someone forget their worries, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was a small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless, and it made him feel good.

The corridor stretched on, and Aaron thought for the umpteenth time that it could do with some artwork on the walls—something other than doors to break up the interminable expanse of white paint and grey dado rail. But patients never came to this area of the building—unless they were lost—so there was no need to spend any more money on it than was absolutely necessary. Aaron understood that, but boy did it make for a dull walk to the locker room.

As he continued his journey, he saw that a supply cupboard door on the left hand side of the corridor was ajar. It was nothing unusual—people often propped doors open with their feet if they were just leaning in to grab something, or used something as a door stop if they needed both hands to carry what they’d come to collect and therefore couldn’t open the door again to let themselves out.

Reaching the door, he’d just opened his mouth to call out and ask whoever it was if they needed help, when the gap grew wider. A white-clad arm appeared and the accompanying hand grabbed the front of his T-shirt, pulling him roughly into the cupboard.

“Wha—”

Aaron didn’t even get chance to finish his exclamation, as he’d been slammed against the now-closed cupboard door, and hard, demanding lips were pressed to his. Lips, he realised, as his brain caught up with the turn of events, that belonged to Doctor Blake Colville. Lips that were allowed to kiss his, thank God!

The fresh, spicy scent of Blake’s cologne invaded Aaron’s nostrils, and he relaxed into the kiss, returned it with enthusiasm. Blake’s tongue sought entrance to Aaron’s mouth, and he gave it willingly, moaning as their tongues slipped and tangled together sensuously, and Blake’s firm, lithe body pinned his slightly-more-muscular one against the cool wood of the door. He stifled any further moans that wanted to sneak out, remembering that, hot as the situation was, it was also pretty precarious, and both of them could get into serious trouble if they were caught. Patients may not frequent this area of the building, but the staff sure did.

Reaching out, he gripped the lapels of Blake’s white coat and pulled, so their bodies were crushed together and their kiss grew bruisingly brutal—in a good way.

The move had clearly fanned the flames of Blake’s lust, because he began grinding his crotch against Aaron’s, teasing their already erect cocks and pushing them both rapidly towards the point of no return.

But could there be a point of no return, given where they were? How on earth would they get away with making love—or, in this case, should it be fucking?–in a supply cupboard in the hospital? Granted, it was one of the quieter areas of the building, but bloody hell…

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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