#RedHotSizzle Promo & Giveaway ~RED HOT SIZZLE~Excerpts

Check out RED HOT
SIZZLE! This new box set will heat up your summer and make it sizzle! #99cents for a limited time. Over 2000 pages! 14 Books! ALL BRAND-NEW!
 
 
 
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Fourteen new book boyfriends are here to woo
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Dive into these decadent stories about hit men, tech moguls, shifters, new
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Chloe by
Lacey Silks ~ Axel Wagner saved me in more than one way, and then I ruined it
by letting him touch me. He’s no longer just an employer–he’s my
everything. 
 

Dream On by
Blair Babylon ~ A new story about Alexandre and Georgie, the Duke and Duchess
of Valentinois, and other rock stars. 
 

Bumpy Ride by
Olivia Rigal ~ You’d think I’d know better. Better than to fall for a biker,
and one from a different MC. Better than to get knocked up by a Nomad who
vanished without a trace. Better than to try and hide it from my family. 
 

Banshee by
Sarah M. Cradit ~ I was eighteen when I died. But then, at eighteen, I was
reborn. 
 

Picked by the Billionaire by
Daizie Draper ~ The fiery rebound-sex arrangement a dumped and already broken
florist dives into with a tech mogul puts her heart in peril again. 
 

Two Much for You by
Sky Corgan ~ Two hot men just moved in across the street. I never thought they
would show up on my doorstep. And what they want is far from
conventional. 
 

Two Wingmen and a Baby by
Daisy Prescott ~ Hold onto your ovaries because this short features John, Tom
Cat, and sweet Baby Day. Surely two alpha men can take care of one baby,
right? 
 

Witch In the Window (Bend-Bite-Shift
Next Gen-1 by ~ Olivia Hardin ~ As if college finals aren’t bad enough,
Chelsea’s witch radar tells her the delivery man who frequents her front door
is more than he seems to be. 
 

Right: A Hitman Romance by V.
J. Chambers ~ Giovanni Gallo meant to kill Sable Clarke, not fall for her. What
seems wrong actually turns out to be something so right. 
 

Tutoring the Wolf by
Jacqueline Sweet & Devon March ~ When she’s forced to tutor to a bad boy
shifter, Cassie has no idea how much she’ll learn about herself, or how much
fun she’ll have doing it. 
 

Yours by
Kim Linwood ~ Bianca met the man of her dreams in paradise, but their real
lives are an ocean apart. Can he convince her that their love is worth the risk
after the fairy tale ends? 
 

Blooming Hearts by
Felicia Tatum ~ First love blooms as Francesca and Cade slowly begin their
descent into the depths of true love. 


Taking Charge
 by
Shannon Macallan ~ Miranda expects Charleston to be hot, humid and boring as
hell. What she finds instead is an entirely different heat with a cadet from a
South Carolina military academy. 
 

Chasing Shadows by
Sophia Barron ~ When Delilah’s witchy ways threaten to pierce Joe’s shadows;
the jaguar shifter must choose between darkness and light for eternity. Will
bonds of love save their world or destroy it?

 
 
Here are a few excerpts
from RED HOT SIZZLE.


Two Much for You

Sky Corgan

 

What am I doing? This is exactly what I said I
wouldn’t do. It’s too late now though. My hormones bowled me over the second I
stepped out of the bathroom and saw Gareth standing there shirtless. He looked
like something from my own personal fantasy collection. Maybe because he is.
I’ve pleasured myself to thoughts of being with him—thoughts of being with both
of them—before. Now the alcohol has gone straight to my vagina, melting me into
a puddle of wanton desire.

 
Maybe I could have held my
resolve if I hadn’t touched him. But the second that I felt the wall of hard
muscle beneath the towel… that was the end of me. Or was it when Devlin took
the towel away? Or maybe it was the way that Gareth looked at me. His expression
was so earnest, so full of adoration. I don’t think it matters anymore. When he
kissed me, it was over. And now I’m lost in his lips. In the feel of his hands
on my body. In the headiness of his cologne.
 
In knowing that Devlin is
standing only a few feet away and I’m going to get to kiss him too. This is so
wrong, but I can’t stop it. Even if they’re just playing me and I end up
emotionally destroyed afterward, I want to feel this—want to know what it’s
like to be with two beautiful men at the same time.
 
Can I even handle both of
them at once? I guess I’m about to find out. Gareth’s mouth is hot against
mine. He’s holding me like he doesn’t want to let me go—like he doesn’t want to
share. I slide a hand around the back of his neck, my fingertips gliding into
the hair at his nape while I stand on tiptoe to deepen the kiss. He tastes like
wine and trouble.
 
I don’t care anymore though.
I want trouble. Double trouble.
Picked by the
Billionaire
Daizie Draper
 
Colton blinked slowly and crimped the corners of his eyes
with his fingers like the emotional pain hurt his head. After a few deep
breaths, he released his face and clutched my bare knee instead. Unexpectedly,
he stayed there and scratched at it, as if he could feel tendrils of fire and
sparks the same way I did and relished the sensation. “So, sweet Carys … tell
me about the very first article you wrote.”
 
I shook my head, baffled. “What?”
 
“I wanna know when you got bitten, got that first prick
of inspiration.”
 
“Why? That’s weird and random, especially right now.”
 
“I just do. Tell me.” He was still scratching my knee,
but his touch shifted slightly beyond the bend of it up under the ruffled hem
of my dress skirt.
 
I cleared my throat and shivered. I glanced down but the
red table cloth was billowed out over part of my leg, so I couldn’t see the
bulge of his hand moving up under the edge of baby blue ruffles. He traveled
more adventurously up and down my quivering thigh. I licked, then bit my lip.
“Why, uh, why do you want to know?”
 
“I only brought champagne and don’t think that’ll be
enough to numb me. I want to think about anything else besides this
heart-wrenching debacle, and learning more about you, to feed my ever-growing
curiosity, will assist me in that. Help me, please. Keep me from drowning. Tell
me.”
 
His stroke sliding up and down my thigh was driving me
mad and stirring up tingles. “Okay. Well, um, my first, my first, huh, writing
gig, was an assignment for the college paper. I started as a special interest
writer. I interviewed the Biology Club, which I actually ended up joining
because of all the outdoorsy things and expeditions they took part in, and I
never even knew. Neither did most people. My article got them thirty-one new
members. That was exciting.”
 
“Sounds great. Go on.” He reached under the tablecloth
with his other hand too and lifted my leg and extended it across his lap.
 
A gasp of surprise jiggled my upper body and breasts,
which he noticed.
 
He slowly lifted his gaze and studied my face. “In case
you can’t tell, I’m a leg guy. And an ass guy. And throat, God, the throat.
Mmm, and you have a trifecta of deliciousness, beautiful girl.” With my leg on
his thighs, he said, “Hold on,” and sent a couple of texts, but I couldn’t tell
what he was writing. He set his phone down on the table when he was finished
and resumed his gentle escapade. With both hands, he massaged my foot and
traced the slim line of my leg with a wavy, swirling caress that stopped at
mid-thigh. “Okay. Continue. This truly is fascinating me, and helping.” His
unexpected touch was making me tremble and swoon.
 
My inhale stuttered on the rocky journey to my lungs.
“Mmm. It wasn’t … it wasn’t until I earned my own weekly column and also
started writing about deep topics for random articles. That’s when I first got,
um, bitten by inspiration and drive. I was intending on editing with my degree,
but I knew my true calling was in the stringing together of words not
correcting or sharpening them.”
 
“Mmm, that’s because you’re a creative soul, an artist at
heart, with a love of depth, beauty and perfection.”
 
“Yes, I am.” Had Max ever said anything remotely like
that? Has he ever seen that? I couldn’t recall. And that bummed me out. How is
it that this guy knows me better? It feels like we’ve known each other for ages
rather than days. A soft flute sounded in the distance. I gasped and looked
over my shoulder in that direction. “What are you doing? You told them to go?”
 
“I did. Why should we waste this moment?”
 
“But…you’re not proposing.” I shook my head.
 
More instruments blended in and started edging closer, filling the night sky with “Arms” by Christina Perri, but it didn’t sound as cool without her lilting voice.

 

“No, I’m not. I’m living, hard, so I’m not crushed by anguish. Remember what I said was the
key to overcoming a funk. You just have to plow through and live life to the
fullest, even when you don’t feel like it. I have to thrive and feel something
else, something so much better. Something … like this.” He went deeper up my
skirt, so deep, he was hooking his finger into my bikini string and now
scratching at my hipbone.

Blooming Hearts
Felicia Tatum
 
My nose was stuck in my
current romance novel. I followed along as the girl fell in love with her best
friend (the bad boy), wishing life was really that way.
 
I didn’t even notice when he
walked by me on the sidewalk. Or when he stopped a few yards from me, and came
back in my direction to take a seat beside me.
 
“Hey. Do you want a cracker?”
a velvet voice asked me.
 
I didn’t look up, I wasn’t
sure if he was even talking to me. Why would an attractive senior be talking to
me?
 
“Hey, I’m talking to you,”
he said, a chuckle in his voice.
 
I slowly lifted my head,
peering at him from under my long lashes. His dark brown hair swept across his
forehead, and his deep blue eyes made me gasp. He wore the ultimate laid back
style, a white t-shirt and jeans. All he needed was a black leather jacket, and
he would be the bad boy from my book. The smile on his face was breathtaking,
and I found myself unable to speak.
 
“Hi, I’m Cade,” he said, a huge
grin on his handsome face. He sat beside me.
 
“Hi, I’m Francesca.”
 
“Why are you always sitting
here alone, Francesca?” he asked, placing his hand on my knee.
 
Shivers went up my spine
while butterflies flew rampant in my stomach.
A hot senior guy had his hand on my knee. My eyes looked at it,
wondering what was happening. Was the world ending? Was this a prank? Did he
mean to do that?
 
“I like to read,” I stated
lamely. God, I sounded stupid.
 
Laughing, he replied, “I can
see that. You didn’t hear me ask if you wanted a cracker.” He held out a pack
of peanut butter and cheese crackers. I always thought they were disgusting,
but I considered taking one in that moment.
 
“No, thanks,” I said,
shaking my head. I gave him a warm smile.
 
“Ok,” he said. Before he could
say more, my bus pulled up. Right on time, of all days.
 
“That’s my bus,” I told him.
 
“Ok,” he said, finally
lifting his hand from my leg. “Do you mind if I come back sometime?” he asked,
a twinkle in his eyes. Standing, he held a hand out to assist me.
 
“Not at all,” I said, giving
him a genuine smile. He seemed nice. New friends weren’t a bad thing. Why was
his hand so warm? Was my palm supposed to be tingling?
 
He walked me to the bus.
“Ok, good. Maybe I’ll see you around school sometime. You should say hi.” He
sauntered off, looking back long enough to wave.
 

Witch in the Window
Olivia Hardin


“You’ll need to sign for it.” He set the box on the rail beside the door, then
made a move to take the book from her hand.
 
“Don’t touch me.” Chelsea
backed up into the door frame. She slammed the textbook closed, mentally
cursing herself for not thinking to mark her place, then reached into the house
and placed it on the table to the left of the door.
 
The delivery man smirked at
her as he pulled an electronic device from his back pocket and scanned the box,
then handed her the pen so that she could write onto the pad. She managed to
get that chore done without allowing her skin to make contact with his. He
smiled and shook his head in amusement when she handed the scanner back to him.
 
“I wish you’d get another
route,” she told him as she took the box.
 
“Little witch, if that’s
what you wish, you could just stop sending packages to yourself.”
 
Her face flamed in
mortification and she cut her gaze up to the perch where two of her roommates
were hiding, watching their secret obsession from above. With narrowed eyes,
she turned back to him and snarled low, “You think you know so much. But I know
what you are.”
 
He tilted his head to the
side. “You don’t know so much.” He reached out his hand, scissoring a lock of
her blond hair between two fingers.
 
Chelsea wanted to stop him.
 
She wanted to pull away and
run back into the safety of the house.
 
She wanted to slap his hand
away.
 
But she couldn’t do any of
those. She stood frozen, mesmerized by the dark appreciation in his eyes as he
examined her hair.
 
“Your walls are strong,” he
murmured, his palm so close to her cheek that she could feel the heat of his
skin. “Why are you afraid of me?”
 
Chelsea swallowed, unable to
clear the lump developing in her throat. “I’m not afraid. I’m cautious. I don’t
associate with demons.”
 
He laughed, then pursed his
lips as he stared into her, “You really don’t know much, do you?”
Her tongue darted out to wet
her lips, and she turned her head towards his hand, closing her eyes when he
cupped her cheek. A rush of excitement sped from her fingertips along her arms
and settled in her chest as she sucked in a breath of air.
 
“Please stop,” she begged
softly.
 
His thumb caressed her cheek
along her eye socket. With her eyes still shut, she felt his lips brush across
hers. And suddenly his touch was gone, and she snapped her lids open wide. He
was walking away from her, a confident swagger to his steps.
 
She didn’t even know his
name.
 
“I’m called Rinu.”

Chloe
Lacey Silks

“Don’t do it,” someone whispered from behind me.
 
That alone made me want to take a step forward, but the
soothing voice stilled my whole body.
 
“Come on. Life can’t be that bad, can it?” he asked.
 
I looked to the side, where a handsome man in a white
shirt was leaning over the railing, looking down instead of at me. Scratch that
– handsome was a definite understatement of his perfectly chiseled jaw line,
broad muscular shoulders, and shoulder-length hair tied into a bun. Not the
man-bun type right on top of the head, but one tied a bit lower, ponytail
style, with the perfect tease all around to give his curls a puffier look.
 
“Are you trying to get me to talk?”
 
“Obviously it’s working,” he smirked, finally meeting my
gaze. Those eyes were so captivating that I wondered if he’d been sent here by
my guardian angel to save me.
“So, you’re the smart-ass type?”
 
“I’d say it takes one to know one, but I don’t want to
anger you. Come on, beautiful, take my hand.” He reached out.
 
Why did he call me beautiful? I fell for it before, and I
wasn’t about to fall for it again. I shook my head and tiptoed further away.
 
Fear flashed across his face before the composed look of
I can handle anything the world throws at me returned. “You won’t jump,” he
said.
 
“This isn’t Titanic. And you’re not Jack. Even if you
were, I hate the name Jack, so there.”
 
That was true. Although Jack had been the instigator of
my troubles, they were now fueled by someone much more dangerous. It was a
wonder how much trouble a girl could get into in less than a month away from
home.
 
“Ok, well, do me a favor, then. Let me at least call your
parents to tell them their daughter is a pancake.”
“I don’t have any family, and eeww, that’s gross.”
 
“What? You think once you hit that pavement your pretty
face will remain that way? No way, honey. Every bone in your body will break.
Did you know there are two hundred and six bones in a human body? And the tiny
ones, like your fingers and toes, hurt like a bitch. Trust me, I know.”
 
He cracked his knuckles as he reached out his hand, and
though I looked for a crooked finger, I couldn’t find one. Instead, I couldn’t
help but stare at the fine lines of his digits, their length and strength.
 
“And yeah, you may say that it will last only a second.
But heck, I wouldn’t want to experience the last second of my life as the most
painful one. I’d rather get a heart attack from fucking too hard.”
Chasing Shadows
Sophia Barron

Odd, that the brujo would be worried over such a small use of magic. Unless, he
wanted the job, and was offended he hadn’t been asked. Delilah hadn’t figured
out precisely how Joe tied into so much of the shifter community, but this was
a theory she could test. “Have you tried to hire anyone else?”
 
“Nope.” Faith’s answer was simple, but Delilah caught the
girl’s eyes following her gaze.
 
Joe flushed under the Faith’s calm regard, and shifted
his weight back and forth as the moment, and the silence, stretched almost to
the breaking point.
 
Finally, Delilah broke the tension. “Why not? I bet Joe
knows some pretty neat spells that could do what you’re asking.” She couldn’t
help but grin at Joe’s obvious discomfort.
 
Faith shrugged, and her chin dropped. Delilah could
practically see the thoughts spinning in the girl’s head. She didn’t miss the
furtive glare the girl sent toward Joe, either. Interesting, indeed.
Delilah cleared her throat, and deliberately bumped the
candy jar. That was enough to drag an answer out of Faith.
 
“His magic’s too dark, and too old. Besides, he’s always
grumpy, and this is supposed to be a party.” The kid drew out the word party in
the most amusing way. Still, something about that simple, direct answer had
Del’s nerves on edge.
 
She’d been leery of Joe for a while. But Del surely wouldn’t
call him old old. The man had a long way to go to hit gray hair and rocking
chair days. He couldn’t be much more than a few years older than Del so why was
Faith worried about his magic being too old? It might be time to do a little
investigating into the man’s past. Later.
 
“Alright, I’ll consider it. What will my payment be?” Del
kept her whole attention focused on the little girl, determined to give this
bargain the weight it deserved. The child was young, but great power deserved
respect.
 
“I thought maybe I could help you with your wards.” Faith
stared at the tapestry behind Del, and goose bumps danced up Del’s arms. She
hated to turn down the kid’s payment; but that was too much to ask of such a
young child. Even though Del knew in her heart their magic would intertwine
perfectly, if those wards ever back-lashed—she couldn’t put the kid in the line
of fire.
“Honey, I appreciate the offer, but—”
 
A quiet cough interrupted her. “It’s too much for the
simple spells she,” Joe nodded toward Del, then crouched in front of Faith and
continued, “will need to make your party perfect.”
“Brujo, I don’t want your dark magic.” Faith’s young
voice went chill in a heartbeat. Delilah could feel the child’s magic starting
to pool. Shit.
 
“I know, dulcissime puer” Joe said. He rocked back on his
heels, kept his voice soft and unthreatening. “I wasn’t offering. When you
bargain with spells, you must trade like for like or reap the consequences.”
His words faded to a near-whisper as he finished his explanation.
 
Joe stayed crouched, calm and cool despite the looming
weight of gathering power poised to hammer him and the entire shop to bits.
Brave man, or stupid man? Heart racing, Del shoved the question aside in favor
of readying a grounding spell. Just in case. As she prepped, she took a moment
to really look at Joe. Dark hair, broad shoulders, killer ass. And apparently
patience for days.
Taking Charge
Shannon Macallan

My pulse is racing.  I’ve just asked her
out.  She hasn’t said yes yet, but she
also didn’t just immediately say no.  Did
I wake up in bizzaro world this morning?
The single-breasted uniform jacket is suddenly warm; my necktie too
constricting.  I can’t catch my breath.
 
“Well, if you’d like to explore Charleston at all, I’ve
got a car.”  Her eyes light up with
interest.  “Well, it’s transportation, at
least.  Reliable transportation.  Mostly.”
In other company I wouldn’t have any reason to be embarrassed by the
truck, but Miranda McGuire didn’t grow up riding around in that sort of
vehicle.
“So, dinner and you’ll show me around town?”
 
“If you’d be interested, yes.  I’d, ah, I’d be happy to.”  I’m starting to have second thoughts about
this.  What if she says no?  Fuck that, what if she says yes?  If she says no, I know how to handle that
situation.  I just write it off as
experience and try again with someone else.
I’ve just asked out the daughter of one of the ten richest men in
America.  What the hell am I supposed to
do if she says yes? 
 
“Then I’d love to take you up on it.”  Miranda sets down the cup of coffee she’d
poured for Eldridge and digs around in a small leather bag.  “Ah hah!
Here we go.”  She’s doing
something at the counter, but with her back to me I can’t tell what.  No, she’s writing something.  She’s bent slightly at the waist, and oh damn.  There’s a long, slow curve down her back,
down to where her waist pinches in, and then flaring outward again where her
skirt is stretched tight over an absolutely perfect- Down, boy!  Stop staring at that beautiful ass!
 
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Stop the clock.  What did she just
say?
 
“You just said…” My voice trails off.  I know I sound like an idiot, but I simply
cannot believe that this girl, this beautiful and intelligent girl, and oh by
the way rich, may have just said yes to me.
 
“Yes, Jack,” she says, her voice warm.  “I’d love to have dinner with you tonight,
and I’d love it if you showed me around your city.”  My eyes are wide with shock, and I’m
absolutely sure I’m turning red.  She
presses something into my hand, closing my fingers around it with both of
hers.  It’s a business card, with a
hand-written phone number on the back.
“Give me an hour or so after we finish in the conference room today,
then call me.  We’ve got to get back in
there, though.  Uncle Gerry will be
wondering where his coffee is, and he’ll be lost without me feeding him
information.” 
 
Her heels are clicking down the hallway before I release
a breath I didn’t know I was holding.  I
already miss the warmth of her hands wrapped around mine.  Where am I going to take her tonight?  What the hell have I gotten myself into?
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BLOG TOUR and GUEST BLOGGER~THE VIRGIN AND THE VISCOUNT~ CHARIS MICHAELS with #Giveaway

THE VIRGIN AND THE VISCOUNT tour bannerWELCOME! CHARIS MICHAELS….

What Is It About a Virgin?

 

When I revealed the title of my second book to one of my writing buddies, she wrote back:  “Nice.  Are virgins like the new dukes?”  Apparently I’m not the only one name-checking virgins these days.  She’d seen it on several other books, not unlike the proliferation of “dukes” of the last couple of years.

 

So, what gives?  What is it about a virgin?

 

Before I go any further, let me acknowledge that not everyone loves a virginal heroine.  In fact, some readers can’t abide them.  Certainly, virgins-as-heroines are not as thick on the ground as they were back in the day, when I read my first romance in the late 1980s.  In today’s contemporary romance, I’d venture to say that virgins are virtually nonexistent.

 

VirginandtheViscountCOVERBut my editor loved the title, The Virgin and the Viscount as soon as I suggested it, and as my friend said, I’m not the only author brandishing the big “V.”  So perhaps this means that there are still a few of us virgin enthusiasts out there.  Hey, I’ll admit, straight up, that one of my favorite romance tropes is a hero who believes a heroine is not a virgin, only to discover, after he deflowers her, that she is (or was).  It’s out-dated and mysoginistic, and even I had to tone down some version of this trope (spoiler alert #1) to make my 1811-set Historical match modern sensibilities (although the resulting scene is still pretty devastating, if I do say so myself).

 

Regardless of who knows who’s a virgin, I still consider an innocent heroine—so long as she’s full of spunk and enthusiasm and healthy curiosity—to be playful and fun and totally sexy.  She certainly offers a lot more interesting fodder for a love scene.  Every romance author approaches these scenes a little differently, but for me, they must advance the story and up the stakes for the hero and heroine.  In other words, they must be remarkable, worth spelling out in graphic detail.  And nothing makes an interlude more worthy of remark or lengthy detail than the first time, especially for my over-the-top characters.

 

Also, virgins are historically accurate.

 

Also, we were all (or still may be) virgins, so we can relate.

 

Also, few sexual experiences are more wildly discussed, lamented, celebrated or VirginandtheViscountCOVER(circling back) discussed than anyone’s first time.  For better or for worse, we relish dishing about this topic. I defy you to think of your best friend and claim you have not heard the story of her first time.

 

Also—well, maybe this is more like a “primarily”—if you know me in real life, you know that I’m an old-fashioned kind of gal, and I simply prefer the virgins  There, I said it.  Or, at least, I prefer my eager, exploratory, and totally in-love virginal heroines.  But hey—even if your not usually a fan of the virginal heroine, consider this:  the leading lady in The Virgin and the Viscount (spoiler alert #2) does not know whether she is a virgin or not.  Either way, I hope you’ll give Lady Elisabeth a try.  And just like your best friend, let’s dish.  Let me know what you think!

 

WOW! Ms. Michaels, for stopping by MBA&M today! Congratulations on your new release!



About THE VIRGIN AND THE VISCOUNT

VirginandtheViscountCOVER

In the next sparkling romance in debut author Charis Michael’s Bachelor Lords of London series, a proper viscount meets his match in a beguiling virgin who can’t help but break all the rules.

The Virgin
Lady Elisabeth Hamilton-Baythes has a painful secret. At the innocent age of fifteen, she was abducted by highwaymen and sold to a brothel. After two days, a young lord discovers her and enacts a brave rescue to get her out. Now she’s a grown woman, working to save other girls from the horror she saw that night and never forgetting the young man who rescued her.

The Viscount
Bryson Courtland, Viscount Rainsleigh has overcome an abusive boyhood, neglectful parents, and a bankrupt title to be one of the wealthiest noblemen in Britain. He works tirelessly to be upright and forthright and proper to a fault. Now he requires only one thing: A proper, forthright, proper wife.

The Unraveling
When a charity event puts Lord Bryson and Lady Elisabeth face-to-face, Bryson has no memory of the wounded girl of long ago. All he can see is a perfect candidate to be his future wife. Elisabeth has never forgotten him, but she worries that the brave boy who saved her so long ago has become a rich man with an unfulfilled life.

As a whirlwind courtship reveals the truth, Bryson must accept that Elisabeth is actually a shadow from his dark past, while Elisabeth must show that love is the noblest virtue of all.

 


Prologue

 

VirginandtheViscountCOVEROn April 12, 1809, Franklin “Frankie” Courtland, 6th Viscount Rainsleigh, tripped on a root in the bottom of a riverbed and drowned.  He was drunk at the time, picnicking with friends on the banks of the River Wylye.  According an account later given to the magistrate, his lordship simply fell over, bumped into a fallen log, and sank.

It was there he remained—“enjoying the cool,” or so his friends believed—until he became too heavy, too slippery, and, alas, too dead to revive.  But they did dislodge him; and after that, they claimed he floated to the surface, bobbed several times, and then gently glided downstream.  He was later found just before sunset, face down and bloated (in life, as also in death), beached on a pebble shoal near Codford.

At the time the elder Courtland was sinking to the bottom of the river, his son and heir, Bryson was hunched over a desk in the offices of his fledgling shipping company, waiting for the very moment his father would die.  It had been an exceedingly long, progressively humiliating wait.  Years long—nay, decades.

Luckily for Bryson, for his ships and his future, he was capable of doing more things at once than wait, and while his father drank and debauched his way through all respectability and life, Bryson worked.

It was an unthinkable thing for a young heir and nobleman—to “work”—but Bryson was given little choice, considering the impoverished state of the Rainsleigh crest.  He was scarcely eleven years of age when he made first foray into labor, and not so many years after, into private enterprise.  His life in work had not ceased since.  On the rare occasion that he didn’t work, he studied.

With his meager earnings (he began by punting boats on the very river in which his father later drowned), he made meager investments.  These investments reaped small gains—first in shares in the punting station; later in property along the water; later still, in other industry up and down the river.

Bryon lived modestly, worked ceaselessly, and spared only enough to pay his way through Cambridge, bring up his brother, and see him educated him, as well.   Every guinea earned was reinvested.  He repeated the process again and again, a little less meagerly each time ‘round.

By the time the elder viscount’s self-destructive lifestyle wrought his river- and drink-soaked end, Bryson had managed to accrue a small fortune, launch a company that built and sailed ships, and construct an elaborate plan for what he would do when his father finally cocked up his toes and died.

When at last that day came, Bryson had but one complaint: it took fifty-two hours for the constable to find him.  He was a viscount for two days before anyone, including himself, even knew it.

But two days was a trifle compared to a lifetime of waiting.  And on the day he learned of his inheritance—nay, the very hour—he launched his long awaited plan.

By three o’clock on the fourth day, he’d razed the rotting, reeking east wing of the family estate in Wiltshire to the ground.

Within the week, he’d extracted his mother from the west wing and shipped her and a contingent of discreet caregivers to a villa in Spain.

VirginandtheViscountCOVERWithin the month, he’d sold every stick of furniture, every remaining fork and dish, every sweat-soaked toga and opium-tinged gown.  He burned the drapes, burned the rugs, burned the tapestries.  He delivered the half-starved horses and the fighting dogs to an agricultural college and pensioned off the remaining staff.

By the six-week mark, he’d unloaded the London townhome—sold at auction to the highest bidder—and with it, the broken-down carriage, his father’s dusty arsenal, what was left of the wine stores, and all the lurid art.

It was a whirlwind evacuation, a gutting, really, and no one among polite society had ever witnessed a son or heir take such absolute control and haul away so much family or property quite so fast.

But no one among polite society was acquainted with Bryson Anders Courtland, the new Viscount Rainsleigh.

And no one understood that it was not so much an ending as it was an entirely fresh start.  Once the tearing down ceased, the rebuilding could begin. New viscountsy, new money, new respect, new life.

It was an enterprise into which Bryson threw himself like no other. Unlike all others, however, he could only do so much, one man, alone. For this, he would require another.  A partner.   Someone with whom he could work together towards a common goal.  A collaborator who emulated his precise, immaculate manner. A matriarch, discreet and pure. A paragon of propriety.  A viscountess.  A proper, perfect wife.

 

 


VirginandtheViscountCOVER

Where to buy THE VIRGIN AND THE VISCOUNT

Avon: http://avonromance.com/book/9780062412935/the-virgin-and-the-viscount/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B016I36EI4/ref=cm_sw_su_dp?tag=avonromancehc-20#navbar

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-virgin-and-the-viscount-charis-michaels/1123479821;jsessionid=9AA3AF7CF6519D410D6E39F80D01F4FD.prodny_store02-atgap08?ean=9780062412935&st=AFF&2sid=HarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLC_7229674_NA&sourceId=AFFHarperCollins%20Publishers%20LLCM000023

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/search?q=9780062412935+&c=books

 


About CHARIS MICHAELS

Charis Michaels is thrilled to be making her debut with Avon Impulse. Prior to writing romance, she studied Journalism at Texas A&M and managed PR for a trade association. She has also worked as a tour guide at Disney World, harvested peaches on her family’s farm, and entertained children as the “Story Godmother” at birthday parties. She has lived in Texas, Florida, and London, England. She now makes her home in the Washington, D.C.-metro area.

Connect & Socialize!

Website: CharisMichaels.com

Twitter: @CharisMichaels

 

 


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JULY PROMOTIONAL~ A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION~ DAVID MISCH

A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption

By David Misch

 A beginner's banner

 

July Promotional

 

POWER! WEALTH! SEX! What are these things without the corruption that feeds them? In A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION, veteran humorist, David Misch, offers an easy and deliciously funny step-by-step guide on how to find or create corruption wherever you need it. If you appreciated America Again: Re-becoming the Greatness We Never Weren’t by Stephen Colbert, or The Daily Show with Jon Stewart Presents Earth (The Book) by Jon Stewart, you’ll enjoy the many “truths” of CORRUPTION!

Join David Misch as he celebrates the release of his upcoming book, A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption, with this month-long promotional tour.

 

Follow the tour to these stops for exclusive content, interviews, reviews of the book, and to help David get the word out about this funny, celebrity-endorsed book.

 

Charmed Reflections          7/1

Blissfully Bookerized         7/2

Lost in Sweet Words          7/4

Yah Gotta Read This          7/7

My Book Addiction & More           7/13

Books & Spoons       7/14

The Reading Addict            7/16

Nicole’s Book Musings       7/17

Lush Book Reviews 7/18

The World as I See It          7/21

Ten Minute Interview         7/21 (interview)

Book Pleasures        7/21 (interview)

Hart’s Romance Pulse       7/28

 

Corruption_FCover-hi 

 

Title: A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption

Author: David Misch

Genre: Satirical/Humor

Release Date: July 21st, 2016

Publisher: Self-Published

Print Length: 71 pages

Format: Digital and Paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1532714504

 

Synopsis:

Most people believe that the high-paying world of lying, cheating, stealing, kickbacks, bribes and blackmail is hopelessly out of reach. They’re right… unless they buy this book.

 

In just 71 fact(ish)-filled pages, comedy writer David Misch shows you dozens of sure-fire, time-tested and only marginally illegal ways to feed at the trough of political, financial and/or romantic depravity. But don’t take our word for it – listen to the master…

 

“Not everyone can be corrupt; it takes a magical combination of opportunity, moral turpitude and having something to sell: wealth, power, sex. (Got the set? Score!) Or, in lieu of those admirable attributes, a willingness to give up all moral standards and betray anyone who trusts you. Does this sound like you? Then welcome to “A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption”!”

 

And remember, “A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption” by David Misch has been called “The funniest book ever written about corruption” by corruption expert David Misch!

 

Available Here: Amazon

 

 

Excerpt:

MischStick- Bio PicMy dictionary defines “corruption” as “the act of impairing integrity, virtue, or moral principle; the state of being debased; impurity; wickedness; depravity.”

Wow. Ol’ Dictionary’s gettin’ pretty judgmental for an inanimate object in a dying technology.

Let’s get real, peeps: corruption is deceit in pursuit of personal gain. And while we can debate whether deceit is “good” or “bad”, nobody argues with personal gain. What are we after in life – personal loss? I don’t think so. And personal gain ain’t gonna leap onto your thighs for a free lap-dance; you gotta make it come to you.

There are lots of ways to do this: Wishing. Hoping. Hard Work. All perfectly valid… if you’re the world’s biggest pussy.

No, a brief perusal of today’s headlines shows that Corruption as a route to wealth and happiness is fast, easy and effective, other than when it takes years, requires enormous effort, and doesn’t work.

But let’s face it, not everyone can be corrupt; it takes a magical combination of opportunity, moral turpitude and having something to sell: wealth, power, sex. (Got the set? Score!) Or, in lieu of those admirable attributes, a willingness to give up all moral standards and betray anyone who trusts you. Does this sound like you? Then welcome to “A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption”!

A bit of preliminary advice; before fooling others, many expert corruptioneers find it helpful to fool themselves. Believing that what you do for personal gain is actually a sacrifice for your family/company/country is crucial to getting away with it. When Chief Bill Clinton Impeacher Newt Gingrich was discovered having an affair during the impeachment, he explained “There’s no question that, partially driven by how passionately I feel about this country, things happened in my life that were not appropriate.” Ah, Newt, we miss you.

(Meanwhile, Assistant Chief Clinton Impeacher Dennis Hastert was making multimillion-dollar payoffs to one of the teenagers he molested as a high school wrestling coach.)

To be conscious you’re evil risks Snidely Whiplash Syndrome, in which the victim grows a long moustache and twirls it obsessively while chortling. (SWS is especially challenging for women, a gender generally unschooled in the craft of evil-moustache-twirling.)

This book [Note to readers under 20: A “book” (buk) is a papyrus-based wireless display device which uses ultra-thin “pages” to convey information] will reveal the secret to success through corruption (and its bff fraud) in the fields of Politics, Finance and Love, and will give you this information in less than 30 minutes, assuming you skip the first 9 pages.

Why should obscene financial wealth and supercilious social status belong only to the professionally corrupt? I dream of a time when – thanks to their purchase of this moderately-priced “book” [see above] – every American will be able to say “I’m rich! I’m corrupt! And I’m not guilty! (Although I’m willing to plea bargain.)”

 

Advanced Praise for “A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption”:

“I thought I knew everything about lying, cheating and stealing — this book disabused me of that. David Misch is one funny motherf@$&r.” — Penn Jillette, Penn & Teller, “Penn’s Sunday School” Podcast

“Hilarious!” – Daniel Klein, NY Times best-seller “Plato and a Platypus Walk Into A Bar… Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes

“Who needs Machiavelli when you have Misch? ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Corruption’ covers much the same ground as ‘The Prince’, at a fraction of the time and with more laffs. Read, learn, and satisfy your heart’s every evil desire.” — Ellis Weiner, NY Times best-seller “Yiddish with Dick and Jane

“Misch may be corrupt himself in saying he ‘wrote’ this book – because everything in it is 100% fact. What he HAS done, though, is figure out how to present such depressing reality hilariously. Really funny and smart.” – Paul Provenza, “The Aristocrats“, “¡Satiristas!

 

About David Misch:

David Misch has been a comic folksinger, stand-up comedian, and screenwriter; his credits include the multiple-Emmy-nominated “Mork and Mindy”, the Emmy-losing “Duckman”, the Emmy-ignored “Police Squad!”, the Emmy-engorged “Saturday Night Live”, and the Emmy-ineligible “The Muppets Take Manhattan”.  David wrote “Funny: The Book” (Applause), blogs for The Huffington Post, and his play “Pretty Naked People” has its world premiere in Los Angeles this winter.

 

David’s taught comedy at USC, musical satire at UCLA, and lectured at Oxford University, the Smithsonian Institute, and the University of Sydney (Australia); Yale, 92nd St. Y, Actors Studio, New York Public Library; American Film Institute, Burbank Comedy Festival, Grammy Museum (Los Angeles); Lucasfilm; Austin Film Festival, Midwest Popular Culture Association and VIEW Cinema Conference (Torino, Italy).  More at davidmisch.com.

 

Connect with David: Website | Facebook | Amazon | Goodreads

 

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ~ MAXEN~~STEPHANIE WITTER~ Mature Content, 18 + only~~

*For readers over 18.
Can be read as a standalone but if you want the full Kinky Shine experience don’t miss the first book.*
• Book title: Maxen (Kinky Shine #2)
• Author: Stephanie Witter
• Release Date: July 12, 2016
They were married but never kissed.
That night years ago never had consequences…until now.

“I wasn’t into the love bullshit and I didn’t really believe in forever between two people.’’

If I had my way, I would have never seen Maxen Walton again, the womanizing drummer of Kinky Shine.
When I met him in college he was already going through girls as if they were disposable. I had always hated him. Yet, for some drunken reason I ended up marrying him in Las Vegas. That night, right before I puked in the fake flowers and left the tacky chapel was the last time I had laid eyes on him.
Until my boyfriend asked me to marry him.
Now, I was in LA trying to get a divorce from my husband without the press hearing about it.
What I didn’t expect was that my famous husband affected me and that getting to know him would change a lot more than I ever planned.

“All I saw now was Lark, always and forever out of my reach, always driving me crazy.’’

I had only ever met one woman who equally drove me crazy and made me want her until I forgot my name.
Lark Hardin.
And I married her one crazy night in Las Vegas.
Freshly out of rehab and trying like hell to get back in the game while convincing my best friend I wouldn’t relapse, seeing my wife again was the last thing I needed for that.
Life liked f*cking with me, though.
Here she was, so sexy I would damn myself to be inside her just once, but she wasn’t here for me. She was here to get a divorce so her perfect boyfriend had free range to marry her.
She still hated my guts on the sole principle that I was a womanizing f*cker, but maybe she would open her eyes and see beyond that part of me.
I just hoped it wouldn’t be just for the sex because this woman had always been my weakness.
She had the power to destroy me.

“I’d spent the better part of my life hiding behind my bright smile and loud laugh, pushing everything away by using sex, but that was over.’’

*For readers over 18.
Can be read as a standalone but if you want the full Kinky Shine experience don’t miss the first book.*

*Unfortunately, buy links not available at time of posting*

About Stephanie Witter…
Stephanie Witter is a dreamer. She started learning English at three, and fell in love with the language. Always with a book, or two close by, she can’t spend a day without reading (or writing).
CONNECT & SOCALIZE:

 

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COVER REVEAL~ HOT SIZZLE~BOXED SET~Pre-Order with #Giveaway

Stock up for summer reading with ONE phenomenally
sexy, hot box set!

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Fourteen new book boyfriends are here to woo you in this big box! Sit back, send the kids outside to play, and indulge in this sinfully delicious sampler of NYT, USA Today, and best-selling authors. Are you ready to dive into decadent stories about hit men, tech moguls, shifters, new neighbors, bosses, lumberjacks, military men, motorcycle guys, and rock stars?
These great books are just the thing for those long, lazy summer days sunning at the beach, hanging out beside the pool, or lounging around on vacation. Some are sweet, some are just for fun, and some are Red Hot!
Pre-order to get this special box set of best-selling books before it’s gone forever!

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This sizzling set includes the following red hot stories:

Chloe by Lacey Silks ~ Axel Wagner saved me in more than one way, and then I ruined it by letting him touch me. He’s no longer just an employer–he’s my everything.

Dream On by Blair Babylon ~ A new story about Alexandre and Georgie, the Duke and Duchess of Valentinois, and other rock stars.

Bumpy Ride by Olivia Rigal ~ You’d think I’d know better. Better than to fall for a biker, and one from a different MC. Better than to get knocked up by a Nomad who vanished without a trace. Better than to try and hide it from my family.

Banshee by Sarah M. Cradit ~ I was eighteen when I died. But then, at eighteen, I was reborn.

Picked by the Billionaire by Daizie Draper ~ The fiery rebound-sex arrangement a dumped and already broken florist dives into with a tech mogul puts her heart in peril again.

Two Much for You by Sky Corgan ~ Two hot men just moved in across the street. I never thought they would show up on my doorstep. And what they want is far from conventional.

Two Wingmen and a Baby by Daisy Prescott ~ Hold onto your ovaries because this short features John, Tom Cat, and sweet Baby Day. Surely two alpha men can take care of one baby, right?

Witch In the Window (Bend-Bite-Shift Next Gen-1) by ~ Olivia Hardin ~ As if college finals aren’t bad enough, Chelsea’s witch radar tells her the delivery man who frequents her front door is more than he seems to be.

Right: A Hitman Romance by V. J. Chambers ~ Giovanni Gallo meant to kill Sable Clarke, not fall for her. What seems wrong actually turns out to be something so right.

Tutoring the Wolf by Jacqueline Sweet & Devon March ~ When she’s forced to tutor to a bad boy shifter, Cassie has no idea how much she’ll learn about herself, or how much fun she’ll have doing it.

Yours by Kim Linwood ~ Bianca met the man of her dreams in paradise, but their real lives are an ocean apart. Can he convince her that their love is worth the risk after the fairy tale ends?

Blooming Hearts by Felicia Tatum ~ First love blooms as Francesca and Cade slowly begin their descent into the depths of true love.

Taking Charge
by Shannon Macallan ~ Miranda expects Charleston to be hot, humid and boring as hell. What she finds instead is an entirely different heat with a cadet from a South Carolina military academy.

Chasing Shadows by Sophia Barron ~ When Delilah’s witchy ways threaten to pierce Joe’s shadows; the jaguar shifter must choose between darkness and light for eternity. Will bonds of love save their world or destroy it?

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BLOG TOUR~THE BLACK MORASS~BARBARA DEVLIN~


The Black Morass
(Pirates of the Coast Book 1)
By
Barbara Devlin

 Forever glancing over his shoulder, Jean Marc Cavalier is a ruthless pirate with the blood of countless souls on his hands and a price on his head, but he is a lonely man. In exchange for a chance at redemption, pardons for his crew, and a peaceful life, he accepts a pact that could result in liberty or death, if only he can survive the terms, but at least he will be free. When he rescues a young woman in distress, and vows to return her to her family, he is torn between his natural instincts born of violence and the honorable bargain he struck. What will Jean Marc choose?
En route to Jamaica to join her father, after her guardian dies, Lady Madalene Davies departs Boston in anticipation of a new life in a foreign land. When her ship is attacked and set afire, she is left for dead, until an unlikely savior comes to her aid. Brash and bawdy, her flawed hero defies the conventional ideal, as he is no knight in shining armor and seems forever intent on shocking her, yet she cannot resist the lure he presents. What happens when danger lurks in unexpected places, faith is broken, and Madalene must rely on Jean Marc to stay alive?

Atlantic Ocean
March, 1816
Virtue was a highly overrated characteristic in his estimation.  In truth, he ranked it in the miserable depths of humanity comprised of respectability and righteousness.  For the strong and fearless, the glorified traits of honor and integrity functioned as an impenetrable barrier to the excitement of the worldly existence filled with violence and debauchery in which he once reveled on a daily basis.  In exchange for societal approval, grown men surrendered their dignity, and their whore’s pipe, he would argue, to abide by a set of rules in which most had no say, and for what?  High principles?  Prestige?  Indeed, such noble qualities sucked dry the marrow of life, leaving naught but the simple pleasures to enjoy, as the Black Morass rode the waves.
Sunshine glittered on the ocean, as a sea of precious diamonds, and a cool breeze sifted through his long black hair, as Jean Marc Cavalier directed the helmsman.  Restless and yearning for stimulation, something to feed the hunger that gnawed at his harrowed soul, he approached with caution what appeared to be a burning schooner that he might offer aid, in accord with the pact he signed in a moment of weakness or perhaps insanity.
“No movement on deck, Cap’n.”  Tyne, the bosun, lowered his spyglass.  “Should we continue our advance?”
“We will maintain course and heading, just to be sure there are no survivors in need of rescue.”  For some strange suspicion he could not quite shake, Jean Marc surmised all was not as it seemed, given the nearest vessel disappeared below the horizon before he could inquire after the circumstances of the misadventure.  For a seaman, naught struck fear in the heart more than fire aboard ship, which could send an entire crew to Davy Jones’s locker.  And he had given his word to perform meritorious deeds for a full year, in trade for an unconditional pardon.  At the end of twelve months, Jean Marc and his men would be free of past crimes, beholden to none.
But at what price had he bartered his autonomy?
It was for that reason Jean Marc refused to sail past the doomed lady.  And then he spied activity at the stern rail, on the quarterdeck.  “Come about.”
“What is it?”  Peering over his shoulder, Tyne narrowed his stare.  “Is that a white flag?”
As they drew closer, Jean Marc smiled, and a familiar itch in his palms had him flexing his fingers.  The lure of conquest burned bright in his loins, and he struggled with a craving for fresh meat, if only to reassert authority over his life.  “It is a woman.”  He laughed.  “And she waves her undergarments.”
Perhaps fate smiled upon him, as the chit might be just the balm to ease his unrest and allow him to regain a measure of control.  Obligated to the Crown, and no longer the master of his destiny, he thirsted for the power of ultimate domination, and nothing compared to the supremacy inherent in seduction.
“Bloody hell, she is a tasty bit o’ fluff.”  Tyne licked his lips.  “And a bottle of Jamaican rum says she is unspoiled, too.”
“I believe you are correct in your assertion, mon ami.”  That tempered Jean Marc’s ever-growing arousal, as he never claimed virgin’s blood, because he preferred experienced whores who knew what he wanted and gave it to him, without complaint or inconvenient emotional attachments.  Then he got a good look at the boon, in question, as the Morass glided to a halt, and full-blown lust threatened to consume him.  Maybe it was time to sample the tender flesh of an innocent.  “Ahoy, dear lady.  Jean Marc Cavalier, most definitely at your service.”
“Kind sir, I would be grateful for passage to Port Royal.”  Behind her, the masts collapsed, and she shrieked.  How he ached to make her squeal with enthusiasm, as he would wager she could scream much louder with the right inducement.  “As you can see, my current accommodation is about to sink, and I am in dire need of new transportation.”
“Lower the plank.”  He signaled the crew.  “As I am certain we can strike a mutually beneficial bargain.”  With a lush figure made for sin, and of that he could envision committing many with her, and alabaster skin he fully intended to explore in more intense inspection, once he got her alone, she presented a delightful distraction.  “How is it your ship fell into such misfortune, and where is the crew?”
“They are dead.”  Tears pooled in her vivid blue eyes, and she emitted a soft sob, but he cared not for her sad tale.  “We were attacked by pirates, and I hid in the captain’s cabin, in a small compartment beneath a concealed floor panel, which he revealed he previously used for smuggling, thus I was spared.”
“Come here, mon chou.”  As the bow dipped below the surface of the water, he slipped an arm about her hips and whisked her aboard the Morass.
“Oh, do collect my bundles, as they hold irreplaceable personal items, including some of my mother’s keepsakes.”  She pointed to two pillowcases, knotted at the opening.  “Please, sir.  I cannot lose them, and I shall ensure you are handsomely compensated, when I reach my destination, as I hail from a family of means.”
“Is that so?  Then your every wish is my command.”  And she would compensate him, all right, but not in the coin she proposed, as he had something else in mind for the delectable brown-haired wench.  In seconds, Jean Marc jumped to the now high-pitched stern, grabbed the belongings, glanced into the waist of the doomed vessel, and discovered the remains of a massacre, which made no sense.  At the very least, the sailors could have been sold into slavery, so why would anyone surrender such valuable cargo?  A large crack in the boards indicated the ship yielded its last breath to the force of the ocean, and he took a running leap to safety.  When he gained his footing, the woman flung herself at him and wept.  “Now, now, none of that, mon chou.”
Guileless and genteel, his unwitting prize had no idea of the scheme he would enact to reclaim a portion of his pride, as the King stipulated naught in regard to conquest of the fair sex.  Indeed, she possessed no means of defense against his provocative persuasion, and he would employ everything at his disposal to well and thoroughly invade every inch of her.  Before he landed the little angel on Jamaica’s shore, he would instruct her in the art of pleasure, such that she would perform, at will, what even some professionals considered obscene, and render her quim raw.  And then he would leave her, unharmed but a bit worn about the edges, without so much as a backward glance, as was his way.
“I thought I was going to die, and you saved me when all seemed lost.”  Well, he was not so sure he saved her, inasmuch as he delivered her from one precarious position to another, though she knew it not.  Whimpering, she hugged him tight, and he savored her soft and feminine curves.  “How can I ever thank you?”
Oh, he had plenty of suggestions.  With a slight bend at the hips, she assessed her things, and he admired her round bottom.  Then and there, he decided to first defile her arse and sail her windward passage, as he relished the compelling contradiction between the vulgar act and the pristine virgin, given she was no short-heeled lass or three-penny upright.
“You may start by telling me your name.”  Of course, buccaneer or not, Jean Marc required no such formalities to seize the treasure between her thighs, and he would feast on her honeypot soon enough, but he did not want to frighten her—at least, not yet, as fear could be quite provoking.
“Lady Madalene Davies, sir.”  An exemplar of perfection, her mouth posed an unparalleled enticement, and how he would engage her aristocratic, plump red lips about his stiff cock.  Then she stared at the crew, released Jean Marc, and retreated a step.  “Is this a passenger-for-hire ship or a privateer in His Majesty’s Navy?”
“Not usually, and I am no longer a pirate.”  He advanced, as her chin quivered, and desire surged in his veins.  “Thus I am willing to negotiate terms, if you are amenable.”  With a shrug, he trailed a finger along the gentle curve of her jaw.  “Else I can return you to the sea.”
“I beg your pardon?”  Lady Madalene blinked.  “You are no longer a pirate?”  She made another perfunctory study of his men and gulped.  “Am I in danger?  Did you kill the Trident crew, and am I to suffer the same fate?”
“Mon chou, you insult me, as I would have taken them captive were that my work.  And never would I waste something so lovely.”  Swift and sure, he caught her in his arms, and she screamed, just as he claimed a lengthy kiss, to ribald hoots and hollers.  When she wrenched free, pounded his chest with her fists, and prepared to protest, he nodded and thrust her into Tyne and Randall’s waiting escort.  “Take her to my cabin.”

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-black-morass-barbara-devlin/1123825730?ean=2940153165813

 Bestselling, Amazon All-Star author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller, but it was a weeklong vacation to Bethany Beach, DE that forever changed her life. The little house her parents rented had a collection of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, which exposed Barbara to the world of romance, and Shanna remains a personal favorite.
Barbara writes heartfelt historical romances that feature flawed heroes who may know how to seduce a woman but know nothing of marriage. And she prefers feisty but smart heroines who sometimes save the hero, before they find their happily ever after.
Barbara earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time, featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.
 


Download Enter the Brethren for free: http://barbaradevlin.com/free­ebook­etb/

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STOLEN BY THE LAIRD~ELIZA KNIGHT~BLOG TOUR

Stolen by the Laird by Eliza Knight Blog Tour Banner

Stolen by the Laird

(Conquered Bride Series Book 4)

By

Eliza Knight

Blog Tour – June 29 to July 9

 

stolen by the laird about the book

stolen by the laird cover

She was supposed to be his prize… But not all rewards are sweet…

Laird Brody Keith, Marischal of Scotland, has been asked by his future king to travel with William Wallace to Dunnottar Castle, where they will seize the castle back from the English. If he completes his mission, the castle, the land and all it holds, will be his. Brody is more than eager to sink his blade into the hearts of his enemies after the brutal murder of his sister and father. But what he doesn’t count on is finding an English lass in need of his protection…

Lady Guinevere has led a less than pleasant life in Scotland over the past year, and now she can either run for her life or accept the proposal of a man who should be her enemy. Survival bids her to acquiesce, but that doesn’t mean she has to play nice. Except, she’s coming to adore the people whom she’s always been told she should hate, and respect the man who risked his life for her.

Joined for a mutual purpose, Brody and Guinevere seem doomed from the start, but as time passes and their true enemies draw closer, they’ll form an alliance that not even the devil himself can break.

 

stolen by the laird excerpt

Brody pushed the door open the remainder of the way and came face to face with four Englishwomen. They huddled by the window, dressed in Sassenach gowns, hair once styled as though they were attending a great feast, jewels at their necks, and tears adorning each face except for one.

“Och, but I’ve died and gone to Hell,” he muttered.

Everyone knew Englishwomen were as shrewish as… well as, an Englishwoman, and as cold as dead fish.

All four stared at him, wide-eyed, mouths hung agape.

Much like fish, he thought.

They were pretty enough, especially the one with the long flowing blonde locks. Though it looked as though her locks had seen better days, perhaps not to have been torn from whatever fancy knot they’d been in.

“Who are ye?” he asked in not too kind a tone. He didn’t want any shrewish behavior, simply facts.

The blonde stepped forward, squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with her piercing blue—nay more green than blue—eyes. She was the only one who didn’t cry. As though she’d been expecting him. The lass was beautiful, even if she was a harpy. Her bone structure was delicate, but her eyes sharp, and the way she frowned, well, he guessed her tongue to be just as barbed. The gown accentuated the curve of her hips and the swell of marginal breasts—he refused to call them the perfect size, for she was English, and he denied finding anything about her to be flawless.

“Who are you?” she retorted.

Och, a fiery little fish. “I asked ye first.”

“Well”—her gaze roved from the top of his head down to his boot tips and he felt more than a little assessed—“I think it is plain to see I outrank you, savage, so you must answer me first.”

At her bold words the ladies in her presence all paled, one covered her mouth, another pinched her own arms and the third nodded approval.

Brody chuckled, taking a menacing step forward. “Then I suppose we have found ourselves at an impasse, fishy, for I do believe I outrank ye.”

“Fishy? Ye insult me.” She shook her head and regarded him with something akin to disgust. “Impossible.”

Her revulsion almost had him checking himself. How odd, and why should he even wonder at her manners? She was English after all. Every woman he’d ever met up to this point had fallen at his feet. Brody was known for his charismatic tongue, his lovemaking abilities. Well, this fish wouldn’t know those things. And from the looks of her, she’d be too uptight to enjoy the pleasures he could have given her, if he wanted to, which he wouldn’t.

Brody puffed his chest and took several steps forward. “I assure ye, madam, given your current situation, anything is possible.”

Two of her ladies fainted dead away and the third stepped in front of the blonde, only to be shoved behind, a sharp word from the Grande Fishy’s mouth.

Then she turned back to him, pursing her lips as though she were contemplating a truce.

Before she could speak, he cut her off. “I dinna make deals, lass. If ye dinna believe me, then take a look out your window at the kirk yonder.”

“So you intend to kill us then?” Despite the stubborn set to her jaw and shoulders, her lower lip quivered.

Och, but why did that slight tremble have to tug at his heart? “We shall see what comes to pass.”

 

stolen by the laird buy links

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / ITunes

 

stolen by the laird about the author

Eliza Knight

Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling indie author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens rip-your-heart-out historical fiction. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and two very naughty puppies.

 

stolen by the laird social media links

Website / History Undress Blog / Amazon / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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BOOK BLAST~ VISIONS IN THE DARK~LAIN MORRISON with #Giveaway

 

Inside the Book:

Title: Visions in the Dark
Author: Iain Morrison
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Genre: Thriller
Format: Ebook

When all sorts of accusations, denials, revelations, disclosures, and leaks are swarming and spilling around the security agencies of the United Kingdom and the USA, it is worse when the Snowden effect erupts. A bruised and slightly disillusioned Commander Elaine Black, training officer and senior security advisor at GCHQ Bude Listening Facility, is plunged into a bewildering and dangerous battle to make sense of and counter a desperate threat to British Security. Headless bodies, fire bombings, threats of chemical warfare unloosed on a small West Country town, apparently straightforward murders and the killing of a policeman make Elaine Black thankful for the involvement of a pair of incorruptible and driven police detectives and the experience and expertise that they bring to the party. However, as the stakes get higher and higher, Elaine is further gratified to have two old fighting companions on side. The question is, can the team confound the multinational conspiracy that stretches to the highest echelons of British and American financial and political establishments?

Meet the Author:

Iain’s first novel, “Like an Ocean Shelf,” which was published in 2012, was set in the Scottish Highlands of his birth and upbringing. After moving to Devon to escape the rain and midges, Iain has written another thriller, this time set in beautiful North Devon but involving some familiar characters. Iain has also recently had a volume of two children’s novels published. Corrie’s Timeless Travels and Travails. There are two fantasy/time travelling stories loosely set in the Highlands of Scotland and suitable for juvenile-plus age groups. 

Giveaway

Iain is giving away a $25 Gift Card!

 

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Gift Certificate to the e-retailer of your choice
  • This giveaway begins June 27 and ends on July 8.
  • Winners will be contacted via email on July 9.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!

Tour Schedule

June 27
June 28
June 29
June 30
July 1
July 4
July 5
July 6
July 7
July 8

 

 

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