Ready for a quirky paranormal romance? Because I just ran into the perfect book for you – Check out the newly released Not Her Gargoyle by Annie Nicholas – a fun and fast-paced adult romance with a lot of paranormal weirdness thrown in – which […]
Tag: win books
Many of my readers and fans ask me, “Where do your ideas and inspiration come from?” Sometimes it’s as simple as overhearing short dialogue in an airport lineup, or reading in the local paper about an amazing hero who ran into a burning house to […]
Book Blitz and Giveaway: Flesh Into Fire by J.A. Huss & Jonathan McClain – A Romantic Suspense Novel
Everything is hot about this new novel “Flesh Into Fire” by J.A. Huss and Jonathan McClain – even the excerpt below is not for the faint-hearted! Are you ready to get steamy? Then read on, and don’t forget to enter in the giveaway at the end of the post for your chance to win a 25 Dollar gift card! Enjoy!
Title: Flesh Into Fire
Author: J.A. Huss & Jonathan McClain
Series: (Original Sin #3)
Publication date: April 17th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
Payback is owed.
And Maddie Clayton is going to collect. This time Carlos and Logan have gone too far. People are dead, lives have been changed, and she’s had enough. Plus, she’s got the Devil on her side, so when an enemy turns into a friend with an idea of how to take Carlos down, she’s in.
Tyler Morgan has been fighting back his whole adult life. He’s ready for anything when it comes to payback. But endangering Maddie can’t be part of the deal. Unfortunately for him, once Maddie gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.
Her debt has been paid in blood and she wants revenge.
His fight is still there, but now he’s got more at stake than himself.
The end is coming.
But even if they win against Carlos, they can still lose each other.
I roll our interlaced fingers over so that I can see the back of her hand. It’s strong, but delicate. Long fingers and white skin. Veins that tense with the clench of her grip. Freckles. Just a few light, faint, perfect freckles.
I have the same thought I had the other day. That I want to learn her. Her body. Every millimeter of her. I want it burned into my brain. I want to imprint her into my memory before she goes. I want to study her. I want to have a PhD in Maddie Clayton.
I let go of her hand and stand up, turn to face her and then kneel down.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I don’t say anything. She’s not wearing shoes, so I start tugging at the toes of her socks and she giggles as I work them off her legs and then hold her precious feet in my hands, examining them. I stroke the bones that run along the top, ending at the tips of her toes, and I kiss each toe one by one.
I turn them over to inspect the scar I found the other day, and I give it a kiss. Then I spread her legs and slide in between them, popping my head up to give her a kiss on the lips, before I unbutton her jeans and draw down the zipper. She leans back, propping herself on her elbows, and shimmies her hips as I pull her pants down. They’re so tight on her, so fitted, that they draw her underwear along with them as I pull, and then the pants are off her body and on the floor, and her bare calves, and knees, and thighs, and pussy are there for me to explore.
Still leaning back on her elbows, she tilts her head to the side, presses her lips together in a tight smile, and raises her eyebrows at me.
I lift one of her legs and place my face right next to it. Like an archaeologist exploring the contours of a priceless, ancient artifact.
Her smell. Her smell will be the thing that I know I will hold onto most. It’s always been that way for me. Smell is the most potent sense I have when it comes to triggering memories. When I smell cinnamon, I remember my mom. Because she was baking when she collapsed that last time after chemo. And so that’s the smell I choose to associate with my final memory of her, as opposed to the antiseptic smell of the hospital. Because that wasn’t her anymore anyway. Mom stayed in the kitchen. Only the shell of her stuck around for a couple weeks more in the hospital bed.
Right now, Maddie smells like freshly cut grass. She’s been packing and getting ready to leave all day, and it’s been weirdly warm of late, so she’s a little sweaty. And that smell—that pungent, dense, round smell of sweat on her skin that fills my nostrils—reminds me of summer. Which I love. Because I suppose that means that for the rest of my life, there’ll be an entire season where every day all I’ll be able to think about is her. Even though I don’t imagine needing a lot of prompts to steer my thoughts in her direction.
As I stroke my fingers along her leg, kissing as I go, and drinking in her scent with every breath, she drops down from her elbows, letting herself lie flat on her back, her legs dangling off the side of the bed. She traces her fingers up and down the line of her stomach, pushing her t-shirt up to the curve of her breasts as I continue my survey of her flesh.
I’m discovering things. Things that no one else on earth besides me will know.
Her right calf appears just infinitesimally stronger than her left. Her left knee is the teeniest bit knobbier than her right. And when I kiss her behind either of her knees, she shudders through her stomach, causing her toes to crinkle.
As I pass the bend in her knee, I draw my nose along the inside of her thigh. She wriggles a teeny bit as my beard moves along her soft skin. And then my mouth is right at the brink of her entrance. I take my thumb and run it along the pink folds and she lets out a “mmmmm.” I tilt my head, studying my fingers as they massage her tender skin, and take note of what sound each gesture evokes from her.
Kissing tenderly on her opening causes her to growl from somewhere deep inside her throat. So I do. I kiss, and I let my warm breath signal my presence, but I don’t want to penetrate her. Not this way. If she wants me to be inside her, I will happily oblige, but for now I just want to be here with her and hold her close.
And I will.
And I will hold her close in my thoughts every second that she’s gone.
But more importantly…
I will hold her in my heart.
Some people search their whole life looking for that one place they belong. For that one person who gets them. Who brings them into their world, lets them fall easily into the pull of their gravity, and lets them just… be. Just exist. Quietly. Naturally. Freely. This is Tyler for me. The center of my universe. The man around whom I now orbit.
Not like a satellite, either. But like… like two things meant to be one. Like long ago something crashed into us, broke us into little pieces, and left us adrift. Floating in directionless space. Spinning wildly with no tether. And now we’ve been pulled back together. And we circle each other, still spinning, but with the purpose of joining. Of becoming one thing again. Not because of tragedy, the way I’d imagined when I sent that letter. It’s not a lifeline of salvation connecting us now, but some force of nature we can’t explain, or control, or bend to our will. Some law of the universe that dictates the fate of things.
We are connected by something more powerful than shared sorrow. And every moment we’ve spent apart has been valuable. Necessary. Critical.
His mouth between my legs feels wonderful. I could close my eyes and enjoy it. Let myself reach the heights of pleasure.
No. I’m done doing things alone. We’re connected now. And everything we do will be together.
So I whisper, “Tyler,” as I caress his head. Run my fingers through his hair. Touch his shoulders. Slide my fingertips up and down the hills and valleys of his muscular arms.
He looks up at me, his eyes smiling even though they’re half closed, even though his mouth is still working. His tongue still flicking against my pussy.
“Come up here,” I say. “And kiss my mouth.”
Now he smiles with his whole face. His hands plant on either side of my hips and he draws himself up to standing. He lifts his t-shirt over his head and undoes his jeans, letting them fall to the floor, and his nakedness reminds me that he has lived every single day of his time on this earth.
He leans onto the bed and eases forward. My legs open wider for him, welcome him between them as his cock—hard, and long, and ready—rests against my clit, making me want him.
If we stopped right now, if he just rested his chest on top of my breasts, became nothing more than heavy weight as he closed his eyes, relaxed, and fell asleep… I’d be content, happy, and satisfied.
And not because there’d be more chances to do this later. But because it’s him I want. Not the sex.
He leans down, his hands on either side of my head now. Bending the mattress the way spacetime bends around a sun. And when his lips reach mine, my eyes are closed.
And I fall again.
I fall far, and long, and easily. The same way I drifted towards him. And as I drift, weightless, we kiss. But I’m still connected to him. Always next to him. Because this is what it feels like to fall into someone, not away.
This is not me slipping down the mountain.
This is not me losing my footing.
This is me finding myself. In him. In us.
So when I reach my hand between my legs and place him right where he needs to be, he enters me. And all those broken, spinning pieces come together to once again create the thing we were always meant to become.
Our bodies move together. Perfectly synchronized. Like the dance of stars in space. His body is hot, and my body is hot, and the heat we create between us doesn’t burn like fire but rearranges us. Like the molecules of two metals mixing to form the strongest sword made of the very best steel.
Our lovemaking is slow. And perfect.
We reach the heights of pleasure together. As one. And it’s the kind of climax that only happens once in a lifetime. The kind of release that means more than the way it makes you feel. It tells you who you are, and who you’re with, and exactly where you fit in the grand scheme of things.
He says, “I love you, Madison.”
And I say it back. “I love you, Tyler.”
We mold ourselves into each other as we relax and grow sleepy. Our bodies back together. His arms around me. My back pressed against his chest.
Our hearts beating. Keeping time.
Becoming what we were always meant to be.
Two accomplished writers come together to create unforgettable sexy romance. JA Huss is the New York Times bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today bestsellers list eighteen times. Johnathan McClain is a veteran actor and writer whose work, either performed or written, is probably airing on at least one of the channels on your television right now. You can contact them on their website www.hussmcclain.com or find them at their social links below.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
I have a treat for you! Read the first chapter of Still by Camilla Monk – An exciting new Urban Fantasy novel right here on this blog! And, when you are finished with that, enter in the giveaway below for your chance to win a […]
Time for a Christmas Romance! Introducing the newly released Believe In My Heart by Maria K. Alexander Don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end of the post – for your chance to win a copy of Untangle My Heart – the first book […]
Are you familiar with K-Pop? Even if you are not, you will be intrigued by this Paranormal Fantasy called The Beautiful Dead by Jun Prince, which involves a young girl K-Pop group. Sounds interesting? I thought so.
Title: The Beautiful Dead
Author: Jun Prince
Publication date: September 22nd 2017
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal
Yubin knows she’s different than the other girls in the pop group SIITY. Yes, they all got sucked into the same machine, giving up schooling and signing ridiculously long contracts before anyone knew if they’d be successful, but that’s how pop stars are made in Korea. Yubin is supposed to be thankful for that, but she isn’t. She doesn’t even like the girls she performs with.
She’s more connected to her former schoolmate Jieun, even though all they ever do is text. Over the last two months, Jieun has become her confidant and best friend, connecting Yubin to the real world in a way she desperately needs. Now that SIITY is going to appear on the reality show The Incredible Race: Asia, Yubin will need that connection more than ever, which is why she’s devastated to discover Jieun has been dead five years and is actually haunting her.
If that weren’t enough, Yubin’s not the only SIITY member with issues. Rena’s father is emotionally abusive. Somi has a learning disability, and after a near death experience, Tae-eun becomes a nine-tailed fox woman. The only way they’ll survive the show, each other, and the supernatural currents buffeting them is to work together and win the hearts of their fans. Because if they don’t, they have nothing to go back to even if they survive what’s trying to kill them.
She was still unaccustomed to spirit combat, but a small tempest swirled in the underworld around her. Humans too felt the wind she created, their muscles tightened, and more than a few quickened their pace to evade the chill. Scraps of litter spiraled over real world concrete, and whips of black hair whirled in an angry nimbus around Jieun’s face.
The shadowman looked up. She’d expected empty pits of darkness where eyes should have been, but when the creature ceased feeding, a set of all too human brown eyes that now lacked eyelids appeared in the monster’s head. They contrasted with the rest of its body in that while the majority of the creature lurked in shadow that was darker than everything else in the Dead World, these two spheres burned as if absorbing all the spirit light that should have detailed the shadowman’s body. The flow of spirit energy that connected its ugly mouth to the girl stopped, and the ghost realized that she held the creature’s attention.
The shade of an eerily human face like black paint on even blacker canvas contorted in what could have just as easily been taken for triumph or rage. It unleashed an otherworldly snarl that was anything but human and charged Jieun. Though it had a man’s body, it rushed in an inhuman lope on all fours that seemed more like an animal. Jieun darted out of the way—it wasn’t a conscious thing, and the instinct may well have saved her dead life. If she hadn’t known before, alarm she felt made her certain; ghosts could die a second death.
She whirled after the attack expecting the shadowman behind her but it had vanished. She sighed in relief. Then, without warning she saw the black shape leap from the roof of a magazine stand just outside the subway station. She cried out in alarm, and before its feet had touched the ground its giant mouth fastened on her shoulder. The weight of the attack forced her to the ground, and in a moment of dawning horror she realized it was impossible to escape.
She shrieked. The pain was beyond anything she imagined possible for a spirit to experience. It wasn’t like trailing her fingers through the wall, or even passing completely through a physical object. Those pains were an affirmation of life, cold shocks that, while not comfortable, served as a reminder that she was still in some sense alive. The feeling of her spirit body being torn apart by the shadowman’s teeth seemed as if the devil had run away with God’s scalpel and used it to peel thick ribbons of her soul away from creation.
Though the shadowman looked like and had similar features to a man, it made low growls that were far distant from human speech. It wasn’t a language at all – if it had been she’d have instinctually understood it. It shook its head like a starved wolf and further tore into the fabric of firelines that composed her spirit body. Its breath smelled of rotten flesh, and she could hear the pulse of bestial rhythmic snorting in her ears. She needed a weapon. She didn’t have one. This was it. Jieun would die… this time for real.
Jun has lived in Asia for the better part of the last decade. During his years in Korea, he made a point of learning about and getting as close to the Korean entertainment industry as possible while writing his first novel “The Beautiful Dead.” He enjoys telling stories about monstrous humans and humanized monsters.
He has a MFA from the University of California: Riverside, graduated with a BA in English Cum Laude from the University of Washington Seattle, and attended Yonsei University in Seoul, South Korea as an exchange student.
Visit Jun on Facebook at:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Great news for Harlequin Romance Fans! I am introducing to you a new novel by Heatherly Bell – This Baby Business! How adorable does that sound, and the cover is just so cute! Don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end of the post […]
I got a truly interesting Young Adult Mystery to introduce to you today! Read an excerpt of Arella Park by Meiling – which promises a lot of twists and turns! Also, I have a new giveaway for you as well. Enter at the end of […]
Let’s start this week by highlighting an entire Paranormal Romance Series! If you are looking for something to dive into, check out the relaunch of the Sleeping Dragons Series by Ophelia Bell, a paranormal romance, that will keep you entertained and warm!
As always, don’t forget to enter the giveaway at the end of the post for your chance to win a Kindle Fire and signed paperback copies of this series! Best of luck to you all!
Title: Sleeping Dragons Series
Author: Ophelia Bell
Publication date: October 2017
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Erika’s spent her entire post-graduate career searching for it. The elusive dragon stronghold her archaeologist professors scoffed at as being only a myth. Now she has the perfect team and has led them into the deepest reaches of the Sumatran jungle. At the edge of the discovery of the century, she’s finally about to prove to everyone how wrong they were.
But when the seven intrepid explorers pass through the doors, they’re barely prepared for the conflict of lust versus logic they’re faced with on the inside. Ages-old magic lingers in the stronghold, dictating that they perform a ritual to awaken the long-slumbering beasts within. And beasts that beautiful only awaken to one thing: the unbridled release of their fated mates in the throes of ecstasy.
The Sleeping Dragons Omnibus is a series of six novelettes. It includes all kinds of fun kinks involving shapeshifting mythical beasts who breathe magic smoke and have very long, prehensile tongues.
The dreams always began with the scent of spice, a distinctly male aroma that enveloped her before the images themselves solidified. He appeared then, leaning against a tree in a misty garden beside a brick path.
She thought it might be one of the paths that led between the buildings of the university where she’d tagged along with her father for work as a child, and then eventually attended herself after high school. But this man who greeted her looked nothing like any of the male students she’d ever encountered.
“I missed you, Erika,” he said, standing up and stalking toward her with that intense red stare of his. He wore a loose-fitting linen shirt and breeches that looked to be from another era. “When are you coming for me?”
She smirked and tilted her head. “As soon as you make me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You are a wicked girl. I will make you come soon enough, but you know what I mean. I’m going out of my mind waiting for you. You and all those delicious orgasms I plan to give you once we’re together in the flesh.”
“My life is about more than sex, you know. I have a lot of work left before I can find you. Now that I know where you are, I need a team who I trust. I’m making a list, but I’m missing one more member. Once I find the last person, you bet your ass I’m coming.”
“Good,” he said, lifting his hand and cupping the back of her head. She tilted back to gaze up into his handsome face and those fathomless eyes that beheld her like two smoldering embers. Her core heated as his exotic scent grew thicker, the fog around her turning red as he bent and covered her mouth with his.
“Sweet Mother, I wish you were real,” he murmured as he laid Erika down on the damp grass, unbuttoning her shirt as they went and baring her breasts to the cool air.
Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.
Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.
If you’d like to receive regular updates on Ophelia’s publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe/
a Rafflecopter giveaway
I am happy to introduce you to a new romance series by Kylie Hillman. Conan is the first installation a new spin-off from the series Black Shamrocks MC -which was pretty awesome! So if you love steamy romance novels, that won’t let you go until […]