Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Ghost, ghouls, things that go bump in the night... and Nick #MidWeekTease

Happy Halloween folks.....

This week's tease is from The Eclipse of the Blood Moon...

An anthology I'm in with four fabulous other authors...

In my Story, Atone for the Moon, meet Lucy and Nick...

She can't get him out of her head...

“Our time, Lucy, get ready.”
The voice echoed around the room, jolting her out of her showery bliss. Annoyed, she switched the water off and, grabbing a towel, went into her bedroom. Her costume mocked her, as she dried and pulled on underwear. What had possessed her to go to the bloody dance as a moonbeam she'd never know. But there were the long iridescent dress and white stockings, hung up by the door, taunting her
“Blood moon, moonbeam, are you ready?”
"What the? Gah, now I'm talking out loud to my mind." Lucy muttered the words as she put her contact lenses in and switched on her hair straighteners. Whoever said curly hair was good didn't have to deal with her hair on a daily basis. It corkscrewed and spiraled out of control at the first hint of dampness. Straightening it was the only way she could keep it even half tidy, moonbeam or otherwise. Whilst the tongs heated up she rummaged in the drawer to find the make up she needed and sat in front of the mirror to put her mascara on. She really had to stop these stupid chats with herself, or the men in white coats would be along for her. She leaned closer to the mirror to see what she was doing, and screamed.
Behind her was the reflection of a man. But oh my, what a man. Tall, taut, and toned body, long dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and—Oh, that smile.
“Ssh, it's me.” His low and soothing voice sent shivers of passion from her boobs to her clit.
Shit, hallucinations now, as if talking to myself isn't enough.
His breath feathered across her neck as he leaned towards her.
“No, love, talking to me.”
"Hell, I'm losing the plot and talking back to my mind. Definitely the funny farm." Her scar throbbed, as if in sympathy. Lucy rubbed it absently. If only she could remember how she got it.
His—its, whatever, the laugh was the last straw. Lucy grabbed hold of her straighteners, wrenching the plug from the socket, and turned around, before throwing them at ... nothing!
The heated wands landed on the carpet with a sizzle, and the smell of burning wool drifted up to her.
"Fuck, now look what you've made me do," Lucy said, and rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her? She was telling herself off.
"Ah shut up, all of me." She picked the appliance up carefully and put it back onto the ceramic tile she used as a base. Then she checked that the carpet was no more than slightly singed and not in the process of setting the house on fire. She sprinkled some water over it to be sure and heard the spit and crackle die down. With a sigh she returned to putting her makeup on.
Satisfied, and with no apparitions peering over her shoulder, she picked up the hair straighteners, and groaned. They were cold. The light glowed steadily to say they were working, but there was no heat in them at all.
That's all I need, curly hair. The kids will have a field day when they see me.
A gentle breeze caressed her neck.
“I like it curly.”
"Well I don't," she said. "And whoever, whatever is bugging me, bloody well stop. I have a dance to attend, more's the pity." She waited for something, anything, but nothing happened. With a shrug, she stood up and picked up the dress.
A long appreciative wolf whistle echoed around the room. In spite of herself she grinned. It was that or check into the Priory Clinic, and a teacher's wages weren't that good.
Ha, at least I like me.
“Oh good.” That deep velvet voice ran through her, giving her goose bumps. “So do I, love, so do I. Now let’s go to the dance, eh?”
Okay, she'd always believed in things that went bump in the dark, supernatural happenings, and the tooth fairy, but this was a bit more than that.
"Who the hell is invading my thoughts? And why?"
No one answered, although she could have sworn there was someone in the room with her. On the occasions she'd felt that strange prickling sensation before, she'd let it flow over and out of her. This time it seemed different. This time, somehow she knew it was important.
She felt a sharp pain on the left cheek of her bum as if something had bitten her. Lucy checked she had shut the window, and found it locked. Definitely not a midge bite then. Pulling her thong to one side, she twisted to look over her shoulder. Definitely a bite. A neat, red mark right showed on the fullest part of the globe.
"What is it with me and scars?" she asked herself, and picked up a small hand mirror angling it to see her bum better. "What the?" It looked like teeth marks. She looked closer. Definitely teeth marks. How on earth had they got there?
"Oy!" She jumped as a slap over the bite made her arse sting. She could see it redden, see the finger prints, but not see how they got there.
Enough was enough. Lucy closed her eyes and concentrated. Look what's going on, whoever you are? Tell me, and let me go to this darned dance already, will you? It's bad enough I have to patrol the bloody corridors for copulating couples and sneaky fag smokers, without a sore arse and a throbbing c... She stopped, aghast at where her language was heading. What was it she told her pupils? Swearing shows a lack of imagination and vocabulary? Well no one could level the first accusation at her. She had imagination aplenty, and it was working overtime!
“Tut tut. Love, you won't let me use the c word, and here you are almost needing me to slap your c word for you? Is that what you're wanting? For me to spank your sweet pussy and see it as red as those gorgeous lips? I'm more than happy to. But be very, very, careful what you ask of us.”
"Us? Who the hell are ‘us’?" There was no answer. "Typical," she said, annoyed. "Won't answer anything sensible. Well, sod you then." Lucy had heard of phantom pregnancies, drug-induced hallucinations, and hypochondriacs, but this was something more ...

something that she wasn't really sure she wanted the answer to, because it was becoming clear that she wasn't going to like it.
The next thing confirmed it. Her scars, both of them, throbbed together. Overkill surely?
“You asked for this, sweet Lucy.” Before she knew what had happened, she lay sideways, horizontal and lying over her padded stool. Something smooth—a hand maybe—held her down. Her pussy clenched, and the scent of her arousal filled her as three sharp taps were delivered in swift succession to her butt. She arched involuntarily into the touch and heard a low, dark, chuckle, reminiscent of something hovering at the corner of her mind, just out of reach.
“More, Lucy? You need my touch elsewhere, I'll be bound. Wait, sweet love, wait for everything. Remember what you were told.” Lucy realized she had turned over, the top of her glistening mound showing over the lacy edge of her undies.
Hell, who am I on display to here? No one? Just an empty room. Hells bells, this is so silly. I need to get ready. She struggled to rise. Again she was held firmly, as an unseen hand pulled down her thong—or so she supposed. She certainly wasn't doing it, and the most erotic kiss of all swept her clit and sucked. How she was sure it was a mouth on her she had no idea, for still she saw nothing or no one.
Her pussy clenched, and her juices spilled as the unseen one took his—or her—fill. Her nipples chafed against the lace of her bra, and she moaned softly, as her climax built.
“Oh no, love, no coming, not now. You need to wait. Remember the expression, and your sins will come back ... and bite you on the bum? Well I have, and I did. Now we need to atone. Remember your name, Lucy? Well, Lucy love, let's release your devil, eh?”
Once more she was turning over and over until she felt dizzy. The room went dark, and she screamed at the pain that filled her. It was harsh, heavy, like shards of glass digging into her arse, and it tore into her soul.
"No more, no more, for God's sake, Nick."
Nick? Where the hell did that come from? 
“So you do remember me?”
Do I? 

Catch all the other midweek teases on...

Ten Fantastic Facts we didn't know about Devvy Jaques

Please welcome Devvy.

She's sharing some secrets... (and a fantastic cover...)

10 Things I didn’t know about… DEVVY JACQUES
1. Devvy might be dirty blonde now, but when she was eighteen, she dyed her hair blood-red in protest against animal testing in the cosmetic industry.
2. A botanist by nature, a cosmetic scientist by trade, Devvy’s two fave places to be are the garden and her private laboratory. Although now, she might have to add bedroom to that list….
3. Devvy managed to pass through twenty-six years of innocence without once watching a porn movie.
4. As a kid, Devvy loved to read. Her favorite books were by the English author, Enid Blyton. She owns a first edition of each book in the Mallory Towers series.
5. Devvy might have two, count ‘em two, lovers but she’s primmer than a nun. Before meeting her husband, Bastien, her idea of sexy lingerie was a white cotton bra and panties. Safe to say, her French paramours have altered that a little.
6. Paris might be Devvy’s new home, but she’s American, born and bred. She certainly doesn’t live up to the reputation of being a Californian-bronzed goddess, however. If anything, she’s as pale as moonlight. Probably because she spends so much time in her lab.
7. Devvy’s parents are totally against her ménage marriage. Only thing is, Devvy doesn’t give a damn.
8. Macadamia nut brittle and vanilla is Devvy’s favorite ice cream. Scoop a little onto her lover, Alex’s chest, and she’s in heaven.
9. Unlike Bastien and Alex, Devvy has few phobias. The only thing she’s really scared of are horses. And only that, because as a little girl, when her mother tried to sign her up for lessons, one of the horses bit her.
10. Waking up before noon is something Devvy just can’t do. Mornings are her nemesis.

Ménage Material Blurb:
Realizing there’s a third person in her marriage, Devvy Jacques is stunned. Discovering her husband’s lover is a man, she’s horrified. Learning that man is Alexei Ivanov, the internationally renowned scientist behind the cure for cancer, she’s...
Being part of a ménage wasn’t in any of her fairy tales as a kid, but the more she’s with hubby, Sebastien, and new lover, Alexei, the more she realizes it’s a dream come true.
Around them, between them, under or above them, Devvy flourishes, becoming the woman she was meant to be before life did a number on her.
With the ménage flourishing, and love growing every day, it takes a twisted blackmailer to derail it all. Raking up past secrets Alex wants to remain hidden, and exposing their unusual household to the world’s eye, the trio face enough challenges to unravel apart.
Will life work its mischief or will they still have what it takes to be perfect, Ménage Material? 

About Serena:
Serena Akeroyd is a romanceaholic. She won’t touch a book unless she knows there’s a happy ever after at the end of it.  Pathetic as it may be, because of this addiction, Serena decided to craft her own tales, stories that suit her voracious need for raunchy romance. After all, a love story ain’t a lurve story without a bit of raunch!
A citizen of the world, Serena is a nomad at heart, and her novels enable her to travel the globe and all behind her computer desk. Naturally, she’d prefer the option of a private jet, but still, if wishes were horses, eh?
The author behind the Naughty Nookie series, available on Amazon, Serena has plenty more to offer. Most of them involving threesomes! Watch out for Sci-Fi, paranormal, and historical ménage à trois!
Always feel free to connect with Serena, she’d love to chat with her readers, as well as fellow raunch addicts!

Links: Buy links will follow, but look....

Website & Blog:
Amazon Author Page:

Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Teasing you...with Intimate Details... AND a giveaway...


by Tina Donahue

Buy Links:

AVAILABLE: Tuesday, November 4th
This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, November 11th


As a computer hacker, she demands justice.
As a woman, she craves two powerful and commanding men.

Shana’s been hacking one of Manhattan’s most corrupt executives, making him pay for what he’s done to his victims. Using her skills, she convinces Mike and Cody to hire her at their intelligence-gathering firm, where intimate details help their clients.
Never has Mike met a woman as delicious as Shana. Smart as hell, curvy and assured, she’d be a delightful challenge in bed. Cody’s carnal hunger is equally intense. He and Mike want to know everything about her.
She won’t divulge the secrets of her past. All she can offer is unquenchable desire and her heart.
During weeks of shameless lust and pleasure, Mike and Cody peel away the layers of Shana’s life. The stunning truth changes everything. They’ll do all that they can to keep her safe…and in their arms.

A wee teaser...

Shana sucked her bottom lip.
Leaning closer to her, Mike murmured, “Is that a yes?”
Against her better judgment, Shana nodded faintly. She’d send them in the opposite direction of her place then hop on the subway and go home.
Her stomach growled again.
Straightening, Mike brought something up on his phone and handed the device to her. “That menu’s from an all-night deli not too far from here. Decide what you want and I’ll call the order in.”
Shana resisted the urge to sniff his phone to see if it smelled like him. On unsteady legs, she followed him and Cody out of the suite to the bank of gold elevators. Mottled black marble graced the floors and walls of the expansive hall. Art Deco chandeliers rained gentle light on them and the numerous plants. Cody stood to her left, Mike to her right.
She pretended to read the menu. The words swam in front of her. Mike and Cody’s proximity, size and heavenly scents overwhelmed.
The elevator dinged. Her heart jumped. She entered the roomy space, its walls and ceilings lined with gold-flecked mirrors.
Cody and Mike studied her reflection in the glass.
She did the same with them.
After pressing the button for the lobby, Mike inclined his head to the phone. “Anything look good?”
Shana had forgotten about the menu. The elevator’s display showed the floors ticking down. Each whooshing sound marked him and Cody getting closer to taking her where they thought she lived. Them trying to find out more about her that they shouldn’t. Perspiration ran down the back of Shana’s neck and between her breasts. She looked from Mike to Cody then back.
Mike smiled. “What?”
She moved into him without meaning to, her arms wreathed around his neck, her free hand pushing his head toward her. He smelled of coffee and need. Their lips touched. His silky and warm, his cheeks deliciously rough.
A surge of something Shana had never experienced rolled through her. Moaning at the intense pleasure, she brushed her mouth over his and slipped her tongue inside. Wet heat greeted her, tasting clean and fresh. Her knees sagged, bumping his.
Mike wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her close, his rigid cock snuggled against her cunt. He buried his fingers in her hair, holding her still so she couldn’t get away.
Shana had no thought of escape. She melted into him.
They kissed noisily, their movements too eager. Elbows and shoulders bumped the walls in their attempt to get closer, to touch as much of each other as they could, her hands roaming his ass, his fondling and squeezing her breasts. When they were both out of breath, Shana pulled her mouth free, stumbled away from him and moved into Cody’s arms.
He backed her against the wall, his body trapping hers as Mike’s had. Cody kissed Shana’s temple and cheek, then the side of her mouth before he got down to business.
She inhaled sharply at his tongue filling her, his hand on her breast, her tightened nipple pressed against his palm. He squeezed gently before getting a little rough, then paused as if to gauge her reaction.
With her hand on his tight ass, Shana pressed him closer, wanting more.
He fondled her for all he was worth and deepened their kiss, his stubble rasping her skin as Mike’s had. The slight irritation fueled Shana’s passion. They kissed until the elevator came to a gentle stop then dinged.
The doors hissed open.
Shana staggered from him, her mouth still wet from his kiss and Mike’s. She’d mussed his hair. Cody’s tie was askew. Backing out of the elevator, she murmured, “Good night.”
Before either of them could respond, Shana turned to flee. No way could she ever come back here.
“Whoa.” Mike grabbed her wrist as he had in the suite.
The guard at the front desk leaned up in his chair. His beer belly hung over his belt. His expression said the security cameras had shown him what had just gone down in the elevator. “Everything okay, Mr. Russo?”
“Is my driver out there?” Mike asked.
The guard craned his neck to see. “Yes sir, he is.”
“Please tell him we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Yes sir.”
The middle-aged man hurried outside. Mike held Shana’s wrist gently but firmly. “Good night?”
His lower lip shone with the moisture she’d left on him. Several locks dangled over his forehead. Unable to help herself, Shana eased them back. “I need to go home.”
Mike’s gaze remained lifted to her smoothing his hair. “Yeah, we get that.” Cody had just joined them. Mike spoke quietly. “You’re taking off after what just happened in the elevator?”
She lowered her hand. “It shouldn’t have.”
Cody frowned, his expression a mixture of confusion and disappointment. “Why not? Clearly, we all enjoyed it. You did, right?”
More than anything Shana could recall. Their strength was thrilling and protective, an amazing combination she longed for but couldn’t risk.
Her throat tightened. Tears threatened.
Suddenly, she felt beyond weary and so alone she rested her head against Cody’s shoulder. Stupid, she knew, but Shana couldn’t help herself.
Cody hesitated a moment, then ran his hand down her hair. Mike played with her fingers.
She fought against smiling and crying. Crap, her emotions were all over the place.
“You okay?” Cody murmured.
Shana nodded then shook her head then nodded once more.
“You’re hungry and tired,” Mike said, speaking softly. “You’re not yourself.”
She laughed, unable to stop. “How can you say that? You don’t know me.”
“We want to,” Cody whispered.


Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.


Win 3 of Tina’s backlist erotic romances from this list:

1. Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT
2. Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit
3. Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award
4. In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT
5. Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT
6. The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller
7. Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books
8. Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR
9. SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR
10. Sinfully Wicked – Magnificent – Romancing the Book
11.  Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR
12. Illicit Desire – Four Stars Romantic Times
13. Come Fill Me – Five Stars – Guilty Pleasures
14. Losing Control - Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads
15. Shameless Desire - Four and a Half Stars - The Jeep Diva
16. Illicit Intent - Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads
17. Deep Within Me - Four Stars - Romantic Times

Take part here...

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Monday, 27 October 2014

where we have a chance to discover, Judging a Book by its Cover

and welcome L.D. Blakeley

Judging A Book By Its Cover by L.D. Blakeley
Available: October 22, 2014
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77233-075-5 

An editors pick

Agonizingly shy Emory North has his life mapped out for him: finish his business degree, go to work for his father, and one day take over as CEO of North Star Publishing. More at home amongst stacks of books, Emory has little to no interest in his lot as ‘North Jr.’, but has never had the courage to follow his true passion—writing.
Brash and ballsy Bryce Palmer, editor-in-chief of ECLIPSE magazine is known for bedding and discarding PAs like yesterday’s newspaper. He’s up against a serious deadline and down two staff members. And the last thing he has time for is babysitting the spoiled rich son of a CEO. But when Pierce Barclay North insists now is the time for his heir apparent to get his feet wet in the company waters, Palmer's hands are tied.
But looks can be deceiving. And, sometimes, passion can spark in the most unlikely of places...


By 6:30 Monday morning, Emory sat at his desk nursing a steaming hot cup of strong, black coffee. It was far earlier than he should rightfully be at the office. But his internal monologue was making him crazy and he’d hoped work might, at least, distract him from the situation. Torn between anger — at Bryce for his wrongful intrusion — and mortification — also directed at Bryce (but more at himself) for that stolen kiss — Emory was fit to be tied. Did he confront Bryce about the email and risk his ire? Or should he avoid both subjects entirely? Emory knew his father would give him some variation of the I Assumed As Much speech, if Bryce were to fire him. Would he, though? Would Bryce fire him for last night’s indiscretion? He’d seemed well enough into it at first. So maybe Emory could call him out on the manuscript without risk of being upbraided like a child for the kiss — or worse, fired.
Before he had time to become completely unhinged with his thoughts, they were interrupted with the arrival of their main source of strife.
“Morning,” was all Bryce muttered as he breezed past Emory’s desk and into his office.
Seriously? That’s it? Emory was at a complete loss. Now what? Act like nothing out of the ordinary happened Friday and he hadn’t spent the entire weekend fretting? March into Bryce’s office and demand an explanation for the email? Before he was able to decide one way or the other, his phone lit up — Bryce’s extension.
“Emory speaking,” he finally managed after picking up the phone and hesitantly clearing his throat.
“I should hope so — I did dial your number.”
“Oh, um.”
Bryce sighed and Emory was positive there had been an accompanying eye roll. “Are we back to nervous monosyllables again?”
“No, I…” Emory heard Bryce chuckle before he could manage to spit out the rest of his sentence.
“Would you please come into my office, Emory?” This was it. He was about to be tossed out on his ass and onto a pile of jilted former PAs… and he hadn’t even managed more than a drunken kiss!
“You wanted to see me?” Emory stood in the doorway of Bryce’s office, not entirely sure what to do or say. A million things came to mind: curse the man out for taking his story; apologize for his behaviour after the gala; kiss him one more time just to see if it was as scorching hot as he remembered. He chose none of the above and timidly avoided eye contact.
“Would you please come in?” Bryce appeared to be finishing up an email, his fingers flying across his keyboard. “Shut the door behind you and have a seat.”
Emory did as he was told and sat facing Bryce. Before he could change his mind, he managed to muster up more temerity than he’d ever thought possible, and spat out “I’msorryaboutFridaynight,” as though it were all one single word.
“Sorry about… what, exactly?” Emory was surprised to see a smile on Bryce’s handsome face.
“The wine?” Emory started worrying at his thumbnail once again.
“I didn’t mind the wine, to be quite honest. Made you much more… conversational.” And didn’t that sound laced with… undertones. Emory could feel his face burning.
“But that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss.” And there it was. Emory braced himself. 


A pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind, L.D. is a fan of horror movies, hot sex, and Happily Ever Afters. Easily distracted by shiny things, she’s a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune. 
In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Of course, whether these pretty boys end up between the sheets with other gorgeous lads or up against a wall with a spicy and spirited heroine, all depends on which direction her imagination takes her on any given day.
Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in down-town Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.

You can find her online pretty much everywhere: Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Goodreads, her blog, and her official website.