Super Book Saturday~~~Torn Avenger from Lea Bronsen

It's Saturday and...

Welcome to Super book Saturday. Today I'm lucky enough to be able to showcase Lea Bronsen's latest, Torn Avenger.

Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog!

When asked what inspires me to write books, I usually say it’s something I’ve seen or heard, or I’ve been challenged to dig deeply into my imagination and come up with a crazy idea. This time, it was a premade cover. The moment I saw this dark, sensual, slightly homo erotic image of a half-naked man in a fur coat on an exquisitely colored background, I knew it had to be mine. I decided in which historical period to set the story – the obscure, mythical age of the Vikings – and the ensuing process plunged me into an exciting and not so foreign world where everyday heroes lived the same dramas and battled for the same values and desires as we do in modern society. I hope you enjoy the read!

As the second son of a Viking earl, Alv Gunnulfsen wasn't meant to inherit a throne or avenge a murder. But when his brother is slain during a raid and their father dies of grief, Alv is expected to take command and claim the killer's death. In a world of ruthless retaliation and strict social codes, he must also maneuver cleverly to protect a troublesome secret: his attraction for men.

Roeland van Dijk, a wealthy Dutch merchant settled in Norway, has done the unthinkable to protect his family — hacked off the head of a Viking rapist. The wrath of the blond savages will cost him his freedom, and possibly his own head… Unless he's willing to accept the love of another man.

Available from

Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Smashwords / Barnes & Noble / iTunes / Kobo / paperback

Add it to your shelf on Goodreads

Excerpt

After a moment, Alv looked up again and almost gasped from the erotic vision in front of him. While shaving Roeland, he’d only seen his wet, hairy chest and stomach, but the handsome man moved to a kneeling position in the basin and washed his lower body. His stunning maleness made Alv hot and bothered. They had discussed, argued, shared personal details, and apologized to each other, but now, the seriousness of their conversation faded. The sight of Roeland’s cock bathing in white foam between his legs had Alv’s own cock jolt and press painfully against his pants.

Oh, Roeland attracted him on several levels—mental, emotional, and physical—and Alv longed to discover and develop more of everything with him. Hedin was an exciting lover, but nothing like what Roeland had the potential to be.

Speaking of Hedin, it’d been a surprise to see him again this morning, right after Elke left. He’d arrived in a terrible mood and refused to excuse his disappearance act. It was outrageous of a slave to come and go like that, but Alv had too much on his mind to think of punishing him.

For one, he worried about Roeland’s future. He’d inherited part of Father’s wealth, but not his title. After returning to Eðni, he’d claimed to be the only one who could decide of what to do with his brother’s murderer, but it wasn’t true. He had no standing, no support from his fellow citizens. They could choose to kill Roeland if they wanted to—all it took was a word from Mother. It made her idea to have Alv marry Elke and adopt the community’s natural heir that much more important to push through.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said, hoping Roeland wouldn’t oppose to the plan.

“What?”

“Normally, I would ask you, but since you’re not in a position to make decisions, I’m just going to tell you.”

“About what?” Roeland frowned.

“I’m marrying your sister.”

Roeland stood so fast in the basin, water splashed to all sides. He stepped out and leaned into Alv’s face. “Don’t you dare to touch her!”

“But I’m not…”

“Hasn’t she suffered enough?” Roeland bellowed, his dark eyes slit with anger.

By Thor, he was insanely sexy, standing naked and wet, so near Alv could feel his damp bodily heat, water drippling from his hair and rolling alongside his tanned, chiseled cheeks. Alv couldn’t help hardening more, and needed to focus on the words that came out of Roeland’s luscious mouth to be able to answer. “She has already accepted.”

 About the author

Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.

For more information about Lea Bronsen

Website / Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon / Pinterest

* * *

Coming Oct. 20

A dark erotic crime ménage by Lea Bronsen

If you like your men dangerous and dirty…

Ruthless drug lord Ricardo “El Loco” Ferrer launders his black money by investing in movie productions. As a teen, he learned to enjoy blow jobs in jail. Now a man of power, his favorite pastime is checking out new acting talent…and convincing them to “please” the team of producers.

Young wannabe actor Jaden Moore comes to a shady side of town to audition for a movie part. He longs to shine, wants to walk the red carpet with cameras flashing and a crowd cheering. He assures the film director and the investors he’ll do anything to reach the top, but is he willing to comply with their dirty fantasies?

Available for pre-order

Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Smashwords

Add it to your shelf on Goodreads

#SexySnippets with an idea of something strange

Hi all and welcome to sexy snippets

For some reason I woke up with a Kera Faire story in my head. It's very vague at the moment but this stuck in my mind.

Castle Chaill

The moment he saw it, Lachlan Del Otio knew it was the place he and his colleagues were looking for.
On the edge of a cliff, overlooking the river many feet below and with only one narrow, steep and winding track to it, it gave them all the security they needed.
He stood on the roof, and looked around the area. All his land, and perfect for what he and his handpicked band needed.
A place to interrogate, investigate and inveigle.
Because in this day and age, there were too many people who were not prepared to work for the good of their country and not enough people to stop them.
Which was where Lachlan—Scottish mother, Italian papa—and his team came in.
Their job was to sort out the goodies from the baddies and ensure peace was maintained...at any price, and that included a private life.

so what do you think?

Happy reading,

love Raven xx

and don't forget to catch all the other #SexySnippets here

A bit of a ramble...as you do

Well, recently I was in the USA. Whistle stop no time (sadly) to meet up with people but apart from that, so enjoyed it.

But the one thing I missed? GF bread at a decent price. Grief I paid 7$ for a loaf in Philadelphia. Now I know that is stupid prices (Rittenhouse Square) but at least I was able to have toast. How can hotels say 'oh yes we do gluten free' and not have bread? Beats me.

Anyway's up (as I used to say) I found places to please me. And Cape Cod was one of them. (fab house great food)

Superb views and okay mixed weather, but <3 it.

(one of my fav pics)

(it was a bit nippy)

Anyway, this blog is by way of a 'I've not been on much'. Because when my lovely hubby and I actually get some time together, I tend not to be around. And now I won't be around much cos of the washing, ironing, and bleeping housework.

Ah well it is worth it because of the holiday,

love to all, and back with a vengeance soon,

Raven x

#MidWeekTease...where the ladies are preparing to dance

(Taken from the story I'm updating... Ladies of London)

The pandemonium in the dressing room was indescribable. Girls in various states of undress chattered as they donned costumes, masks, and rouge. Tonight there were six of them. The troupe was elastic on purpose. Never more than twelve, never less than five. All willing and eager to find time for rehearsals and the events themselves. Each girl had signed a confidentiality contract, and in a reversal of usual practice, had paid to become a part of the troupe. If any member of the Ton got a hold of those contracts, all hell would be let loose. It was no wonder the solicitor in charge was one of the brothers of La Bella Isabella. As was often said, a younger brother. She shuddered to think what her other brothers would make of it all.

"My petticoat keeps slipping, and it won't tie any tighter."

"Has anyone seen my mask?"

"Who's on first?"

"How long have we got?"

"I can only find one shoe."

Questions, pleas, and general chitchat vied to be heard. Anyone walking past would have thought there were sixty girls in the room, not six.

She clapped her hands for silence. Dressed in an elaborate gold and silver mask, which covered the top half of her face, with a silver scarf loosely covering her hair—making it impossible to know what color it was—and a swirling, sensual slither of a dress—gold and silver and hinting of all manner of things—it was obvious; here was the boss. La Bella Isabella herself.

"Ladies, please. We have fifteen minutes." She proceeded to answer questions patiently. "Margot, is it your petticoat? Don't forget it should have your stage name sewn into it, not your real one."

Margot laughed, groaned, and took the offending garment off.

"Exactly. Louisa, your mask is where you left it by your dressing table. Susannah, you are holding your other shoe." There was a general laugh at this, Susannah being notoriously absentminded; her head was usually in a book, except when she was on stage.

"Now, remember, this is all about illusions. No nudity, no crudity. They may imagine they see our breasts, our bodies. But we know they actually see less than when we accompany them in a waltz."

Catch the other #MidWeekTease posts here

Happy reading,

love Raven x

#SexySnippets with a now you see it now you think you don't dress

It's #SexySnippets time

7 sentences to get you wanting more... (or today, oops mine is 8 sshh)

Someone bumped into him and apologized as Gibb scowled at them. He held his goblet out of the way—good brandy was not to be wasted. 

Gibb watched his fellow spectator stumble away, miss the fishpond by inches and lurch round a statue, before he ignored the man and instead turned his attention back to what was happening on the lawn. Only to tug at his suddenly too tight cravat because of what he once again saw in front of him.

In the middle of the perfect, manicured, luscious grass, a wooden platform had been erected in front of a large, plain white, thick canvas screen. Before it, the curvaceous raven- haired beauty who had attracted him minutes earlier stood with her arms outstretched, her crimson lips wide and an invitation to every man in the vicinity to stop, stare and give her their undivided attention. 

Dressed in something made of two-tone material, the like of which he’d never seen before, with hidden slits up each side, she presented a picture of contradictions. Gibb was sure she made each and every one of the audience imagine what the gown might or might not conceal. 

Available for preorder now from 

Amazon UK here

.Com here

and

Totally Bound here

And catch all the other #SexySnippets

here

Happy reading,

love Raven x

#MidWeekTease with an oldie... To update or not,that is the question...

I'm at a bit of a loss what to tease you with this week. I have The Duke's Temptation up for preorder, But think you might e sick of reading teases from there for now, so instead, this is from an old no longer in publication, Regency series I'm thinking of revamping.

The series was called The Ladies of London, and this is Amanda's story...

(It needs updating I know but...)

"Why are we doing this?" Charlie, Lord Lampson, asked his colleague plaintively as they strode along the street arm in arm. "I'm so cold and shriveled, La Bella Isabella and her whole troupe of dancing girls could be standing in front of us, and I wouldn't be able to show my appreciation. In any way whatsoever. Quite disconcerting, I must tell you."

Harry, the Duke of Fairmont, just laughed. "Don't be such a goose," he advised. "We're doing it for you. You want to go to see The Fair Isabella, before you agree to the parson's noose, and I, as a true friend, am accompanying you."

Charlie snorted. "Just because your Mama can't control you and make you wed, you don't need to be so damn cheerful about my impending doom."

Harry didn't answer.

"You're a lucky dog," Charlie said. "A doting Mama, a considerable fortune, a very accommodating mistress; what more does a man need?"

"What more, indeed," Harry, who usually spent his days—to his friend's amazement—managing his estates, amassing even more money via various schemes and businesses, and bedding his current mistress, agreed with him amiably. "At some point, an heir, perhaps? But for the moment, I have all I need. I have no interest in all the young girls paraded under my nose every year by despairing and pushy parents. I have better things to do with my time. Including accompanying you on this outing."

"And visiting your clubs, race meetings, Jackson's Saloon, and anything else that might take your fancy," Charlie retorted, his lips twitching.

"As you say," Harry acknowledged. "And tonight's entertainment to see La Bella Isabella and her Dancing Girls does take my fancy."

He was silent, thinking of the probable delights of the evening ahead. Beside him, Charlie sighed. Harry would bet his new hunter they thought alike.

New to London, the troupe had taken the males of the Ton by storm. No one knew where they came from or who they were. Only that they danced, in a most interesting manner. The rumors abounded. French, Italian, demimonde, ladies of the Ton. But no one knew for sure. And, as no girl ever made contact with any of the audience, all wore elaborate masks whilst they performed, and no one standing outside the stage door ever caught a glimpse of anyone leaving, the mystery and interest increased daily. Even more annoying was the fact they only performed occasionally, and it was never disclosed more than a few hours in advance when and where their performance would be. To pique interest even more, admittance was by invitation only.

A commotion ahead made Charlie stop grumbling and pull on Harry's arm. Harry had already seen the carriage skewed across the road, its wheels embedded in the snow, and the horses slipping and skidding on the ice. The young lady trying to calm the horses was definitely not dressed for the arctic conditions. Indeed, as he made his way to her side to help with the horses, Harry was sure he could see her nipples peaking with the cold through her flimsy, muslin gown.

"I say, are you all right?" Charlie openly ogled her body.

"Of course I am," the lady answered impatiently. "As your colleague had realized, it's my horses that are not. Pray, sir, either help or get into the carriage and calm my companion before she shrieks the place down." Wails were erupting from inside the carriage, growing louder which each passing second.

"Oh, Peggy, be quiet," she said—rather loudly, Harry thought, and he feared the woman's voice would upset the horses even more. Her next words quelled his qualms, however. "You're spooking the horses. Close your mouth, use your smelling salts, do anything, but stop that noise. Now!"

Harry was amused at how she ordered everyone around. Charlie had obediently entered the carriage, where the wailing was subsiding. The groom on the box was following her orders, and he, himself, was patiently standing in the freezing cold, helping to calm the prime-looking cattle. And he was discovering by the minute how little the cold conditions were affecting his reactions to the fair lady. In fact, he grinned to himself as he struggled to adjust his clothing to allow a small degree of comfort; a certain part of his anatomy was mimicking the state of her nipples—standing to attention, though in his case, it was not due to the cold and it was not his nipples...although they weren't exactly flaccid either.

Catch all the other #MidWeekTease posts here

Happy reading,

love Raven x