I'm thrilled to share that Evernight is going to publish Off the Hook a month early, on June 27th!
At twenty, Luke Stryker is already one of the best pitchers in the majors and the sole heir to his family’s fortune. His world turns upside down when he meets Abbey. Right away, he senses she’s special. That she’s meant to be his.
I'm thrilled to share that Evernight is going to publish Off the Hook a month early, on June 27th!
If you enjoy western romance, you're in luck with Allyson Young's new release Foolin'.
When Kathleen and Carter meet, it’s intrigue at first sight, and they awaken from emotional exile. A turn of events finds her spontaneously joining him on his working ranch. Despite being really hard work, she’s blissfully happy—and the fringe benefits aren’t too shabby either.
Carter can’t believe his luck. He desperately needed a housekeeper, not that he welcomed this amazing woman into his home for that reason. He can cope with her bond with her daughter, no matter how it forces him to remember his lost young son. And he can’t give her his heart, but what he can give is surely enough.
In love with this amazing man, Kate ignores that Carter withholds, believing he’ll change, and she’s willing to wait. When she inadvertently discovers he was angling for a housekeeper all along, it knocks her blinders off.
She’s done waiting. She deserves more—and so does he.
“I think I’m good. I should probably get to bed,” she said. “What time do you get up?”
“Early. And I head out straight away. You stay in bed until you’re ready to face the day. I’ll leave you my cell number, and you text me. I’ll head back.”
“I’m an early riser too.”
“Five o’clock for me tomorrow, Kathleen.”
“Oh, maybe not. I’ll text you.”
He pulled out his cell. “What’s your number?”
With the exchange complete, he lurked in the doorway. “The bathroom is across the hall. Towels in the cabinet.”
“Great, thanks. I’ve got everything I need.”
Did she? So near and yet so far, she hovered there like a wood sprite. When she stooped to slip the strap off her shoe, then the other and stepped out of the heels, he found he’d closed the gap.
She looked up, having lost a slight difference in height, and her eyes flared green, the pupils dilating. A good night kiss, then. A peck. He reached out and with only tacit permission lowered his mouth over hers.
On a startled gasp, her lips parted, and he took advantage, yet maintained control, alert to any distress. It separated him into distinct parts that soon melded when she pressed into him, her arms wreathing around his neck.
He learned her, her taste and texture, reveling in her response, swallowing her tiny moans. When he pulled away to breathe, resting his forehead against hers, she sagged in his arms and he kept her steady.
His heart pounded in tandem with hers, and he was so hard he hurt. She shivered, and he said, “Do I need to apologize? Because it’ll be difficult.”
In a whisper, she said, “No need. I’m just sorry I’m so out of practice.”
“If you’re out of practice, I hope to kiss you when you’re at your best.”
Tipping her head back, she met his eyes before glancing away. “I don’t do this on a first date. I don’t date. Lord.”
He eased his body away from hers, regretting that he’d encroached on her personal space. She tugged him back. “But I want to. I want you. If that makes me a—”
He stopped her with a hard kiss. “Don’t. Don’t make this a bad thing.”
Her lips twitched in a tremulous smile. “I don’t want to overthink it.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.
He lost his Stetson and shrugged out of his jacket, bemoaning any inability to keep a hand on her as she tugged a zipper hidden in a side seam of her dress and let it slither down the length of her body to pool at her feet.
His fingers froze on the snaps of his shirt as he took in the sight of her in scraps of pink lace and honest-to-God thigh-high stockings. With a dry mouth, he wrenched the placket apart and threw the shirt to one side, gathering her to him, nuzzling the hollow at the base of her neck and then down to the tops of her breasts.
She arched into him, and he fumbled with the clasp and freed those gorgeous mounds that tumbled into his waiting hands. Soft skin tipped with beaded nipples he desperately wanted to get his mouth on. And her sultry scent…
His belt buckle pressed into her belly, and he made one hand abandon its prize and yank open the offending metal, dealing with the button and zipper while he was at it. His cock breathed a sigh of relief—he swore it—as his mouth found its target.
“God, Carter.” She pushed into him, and he sucked harder, gently using his teeth against the tip.
Her hands found his hips and pushed his jeans down, dragging his boxer briefs with them. The sensation of her fingers on his ass made him groan, his pelvis thrusting, his cock against her center. At this rate, he’d disgrace himself.
When she sought him out, he turned with her, hobbled by his own jeans, the ignominy nearly making him smile as he held her against the wall. “Touch me, darlin’, and I’ll lose it all over your sweet hand.”
“Out of practice, too,” she teased, her hair awry and her mouth swollen. “I’m so ready, Carter.”
He worked his hand beneath her panties, staring into her eyes, soaking in the pleasure sparking there when he found her apex, full and wet. “You are.”
Still, he played at her entrance, then feathered over the knot above, making her rise on her toes and whimper. “Please.”
It took some awkward gymnastics to get a hand into his jeans’ pocket and lift his wallet, all while stroking her, but he managed it. Somehow got the condom out and open and smoothed on.
Pushing aside the fabric guarding her pussy, he bent his knees a fraction and set his cock at her opening. With a single thrust, he filled her, freezing in place as they both adjusted. She was wet but so fucking tight. She’d said she didn’t do this, didn’t date. Christ. How long had it been?
“You okay?” he rasped, willing her to open her eyes.
As if on cue, her lashes fluttered open, and he drowned in the depths behind them. Urgent need enticed him, and he responded, easing out and pushing back in. Heated, wet satin sucked at him as he powered toward orgasm, knowing it wouldn’t be long.
But he wasn’t getting there alone. Watching her for any signs, doing his best to ignore the pull at the base of his spine, he found her sweet spot and swiveled his hips to take her there. She responded by working herself against him, her breath increasing in shallow pants as she crested.
With a short cry, she tensed and clamped on him, shuddering, her head grinding against the wall. There was no resisting her, and he followed her over, emptying himself. He set his teeth on the top of her shoulder and muffled his groan, then kissed the spot reverently.
About the Author
Allyson Young aka Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada where she and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.
She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.
A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of November 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.
The talented Lacee Hightower has a new release. You don't want to miss this one. Learn all about Intrigue Me here and pick up your copy today.
What’s a person to do when they discover everything they’ve believed is nothing but lies?
I grew up wealthy, a spoiled rich kid some would say, blessed with a natural athletic physique and erotic good looks that could get me into the panties of just about any girl I set my mind to.
I wanted … what I wanted.
And that meant one thing: the beautiful brunette from study hall—but she left me high and dry.
Today, I have a heart made of stone. I’m angry, a professed lifelong bachelor, and a sexual sadist.
My soul is a cold river.
Eight years later, she’s back in my life and holding secrets that are ruthless, unforgiveable.
I want to punish her, make her cry, watch her suffer. I want to hate her for what she’s done.
But I want my hands on her.
Mine. All mine.
I simply want … Ava Montgomery.
I ached for him with such a depth that it was a visceral kind of pain. I wanted his hands on me, touching me everywhere, taking me to that place I’d fantasized about for years.
“It’s your decision, doll.”
“Are you going to tear up my butt? Leave bloody marks on my back? Ruin my nipples? Are you…” My voice faded into silence as I stared at his focused expression that was so sure, so certain, his eyes that sent shimmers down my spine, his body that made me cave with pleasure every time it came near me. Heat flowed through my veins. “Yes. God, yes. I want to know everything. I want you to…”
Before I finished the words that were caught in my throat, his lips were on mine, crushing his mouth against me with a scorching kiss that felt like he was ravenous. His hands twisted fiercely through my hair, my body arching into him as he licked into me, purging deep, kissing me for long minutes like he wanted me more than any one thing in his existence.
I wanted this so badly that it hurt.
His lips fell to the sweet spot just underneath my ear. “You wouldn’t happen to still have that blindfold by any chance?”
Another whimper rose up my throat as I collapsed into his chest, turning to soft liquid and ceding in submission.
Of course, I still had the blindfold. I’d stared at it a dozen times. Fantasized about what it would feel like being bound, in the dark, his hands on me, oblivious to his next move, and if all my daydreams were a reality … or a fool’s paradise.
“Yes,” I breathed, captivated.
“Grab it, kitten. And follow me.”
Blistering heat flooded my core as he trailed kisses across my neck.
“And, Ava,” he added in a hard tone, “before the night ends, my marks will be all over you.”
About the Author
Lacee Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as contemporary romance with a nice big pinch of kink. Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of fashion and shoes, and an enormous hopeless romantic. Since she was old enough to know what the word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book after both her children were grown in 2017. Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy peeking into another world.
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Fellow Evernight author Elyzabeth M. VaLey has a new release. Read all about Open and pick up your copy today.
One day she’d be his.
Almost a decade ago, Marcus Grimes worked as a bodyguard to a man who didn’t deserve the woman he’d had. When she finally left, Marcus vowed to eventually find her and make her his.
The time is now.
Marcus runs into Gabi at a BDSM club, indulging in a different partner every week but never really exploring beyond the mere superficial. She doesn’t remember him, and he convinces her to give him a chance.
All she has to do is open.
After leaving an abusive relationship, Gabi moved cities and reinvented herself. Now, she’s confident and capable of playing with any Dom she sees fit without compromising herself or her emotions.
Until she meets Marcus Grimes.
There is something familiar about him, which should have stopped her, but instead spurs her on, and before she realizes it, Marcus is not only opening her body to his exploration, he’s also delving into her heart.
However, when their mutual past comes to light and everything she’s fought for during the last eight years is jeopardized, will she close herself off again or will she give love an opportunity?
Warning: BDSM, flogging, sex toys
Marcus sipped at his soda, wishing it were something stronger so his libido would subside. Who was he kidding? Looking at her would get him aroused regardless of the amounts of alcohol he drank.
She was perfect. Everything he’d ever fantasized about: luscious curves, ample bottom, tits which would fit his hands, and a mouth made for sucking and screaming out his name.
Gabi. Her last name was of no consequence. Neither was her first name. Years ago, he’d known her as Abby. What mattered was that when he made her his, he’d refer to her as “kitten”. He’d called her it once, by accident. The term had come naturally. Back then, she had been vulnerable, small, like an abandoned pet. Now, however, he stood in the presence of a different type of cat. She was graceful, strong, seductive.
Unfortunately, unlike cats, which tended to be more snobbish when it came to choosing an owner, Gabi played with just about everyone. She was a regular at the BDSM club where he’d found her. One night, he’d see her getting a spanking, the next, a caning, and another day, she was being whipped. There didn’t seem to be anything Gabi wouldn’t try, except sticking with the same partner. She had a different Dom every weekend, playing with them at a distance, never really giving in to the experience. He knew why, and he was determined to change it. Starting tonight.
Currently, she was tied to the Saint Andrew’s cross, and Master Eric was giving her a good flogging. The Dom played her like an instrument, knowing exactly where to hit to make her skin tingle but not bruise. Marcus scowled. When they played, he’d make sure to mark her so every time she sat down, she would remember him and how her body had yielded to her Dom’s touch.
Marcus downed the last of his drink and moved closer to the cross. It’d been close to eight years since he’d last seen her. Eight years. He sometimes thought they had been wasted years, but deep down, he knew they hadn’t. After what she’d gone through, she’d needed the time to heal and become the person she was now.
In all that time, he’d never stopped wanting her. He’d been incapable of erasing her from his mind even after he’d lost track of her whereabouts. And then, fate had thrown her in his path. He’d finally decided to join the BDSM community in the city, and he’d found her. Here of all places. In his city.
One look at her and he’d made up his mind. Gabi would be his. Permanently this time. He’d bided his time, investigating her present, trying to find out more about who she was today. Every weekend for the past month, he’d come to the club and watched her. He’d leave with a hard-on and a desperate craving to claim her.
Tonight would be different. Eric was almost done, each stroke of the flogger turning into a caress until it came to a full stop. Gabi shuddered and hung her head. Marcus stiffened. Was she okay? Eric seemed to think the same because he hurried forward and whispered in her ear. Gabi nodded. Eric chuckled. Giving her ass a light tap, he began to undo the restraints.
Marcus clenched his fists. Soon, he’d be the only one spanking Gabi’s behind. He waited patiently for them to finish. His heart hammered in his chest, and sweat gathered at his nape. He hadn’t been so on edge in years.
Finally, Gabi became free and turned around. Marcus’s breath caught. She wasn’t naked, but she didn’t need to be to get his dick hardening. He focused on her mouth. Wide with plump lips. How many times had he fantasized about having them around his dick? Fucking her mouth. Marcus swallowed a groan.
Eric blocked his view, stepping in front of Gabi to give her a hug. She smiled politely, but there was no affection in her gaze. She was merely being civil. Marcus smirked. They wouldn’t end their sessions with a friendly pat. Finally, Eric left. Before Gabi could also leave, Marcus approached her. She saw him coming, her gaze narrowing and her lips parting into a coquettish smirk. He couldn’t wait to make it sincere.
“That’s me. What can I call you, handsome?”
“Marcus will do for now.”
She pouted, feigning disappointment.
“Shame, I thought you were a Dom.”
Marcus grinned. “I am.”
“And you don’t want me to call you Sir or Master? Do you prefer Daddy?” She ran her fingertips across his forearm making goosebumps sprout on his flesh. Marcus pulled away.
“If the men you’ve been playing with require you call them Sir after barely ten seconds of interaction, you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”
She shrugged, her gaze dipping then just as quickly meeting his again.
“So, why are we having this conversation, Marcus?”
“I would like to play with you.”
Gabi quirked an eyebrow. “And you don’t want me to call you ‘Sir’?”
“Well, I’m done for today, so maybe next time,”
He grabbed her wrist. Her eyes blazed.
“In a minute, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that. I didn’t give you the right.”
“Forgive me,” Marcus apologized. “You’re right.” He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head to look at him even though she wasn’t much shorter. “You have to understand, Gabi, I don’t want to play with you right now. I want to get to know you a bit before I make you kneel at my feet, open up that pretty little mouth of yours and stuff it with my cock until you gag.”
About the Author
Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters' darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.
When she's not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.
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It's a wrap. I attended Printer's Row Lit Fest in downtown Chicago on Sunday June 9th. It rained for a few hours, but that didn't dampen our spirit. It was quite the spectacle. After our time in the Chicago Writer's Association tent, we spent the rest of the day with the ladies from the Chicago-North chapter of the RWA, my local chapter. Until next year!
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