April 24, 2015

Friday Flames: Forever and a Day with Dawné Dominique




Romance books are known for different levels of "steam". Those levels are sometimes labeled as "Sweet", "Sensual", "Erotic", and "Erotica". 

At Friday Flames, I aim to keep the fire burning.

Please welcome the multi-talented author Dawné Dominique!






Forever and a Day 
An Erotic Historical (Pirate) Paranormal Romance (quite a mouthful...no pun intended...okay, maybe just a little)


Excerpt:

”My sweet, lost, Bella,” Alixx said, his voice thick with emotion.

He willed his clothes to disappear as the urgent need to lavish his love upon her became more than he could control.

She lay pliant as he slid his rigid body next to her. As soon as he settled on the coverlet of the bed, she immediately straddled herself across his stomach. Such boldness surprised him, for this was unlike the shy, reserved Bella he'd once known. The dampness between her thighs grazed over his skin, making him throb in the most delightful of ways. She glided her hips downward with a whispered sigh. He wouldn't last long if she continued doing that.

He dug his fingers into her thighs and forcibly brought her to his mouth. She resisted, but only for a moment.

His teeth lengthened of their own accord. His world tilted in rapture, his mind and body lost in her delicious scent. With gentle strokes of his tongue, he timidly lapped the plumpness of her nether lips, which elicited deep-throated moans from her. She was sopping wet. The downy hair of her mound was the same fiery hue as the tresses splayed across her shoulders. He ground his nose into its delightful nap. Her engorged clit beckoned to him, demanding his attention, but he worked toward her dripping tunnel. He would taunt until she drowned him with wanting.

When she spread herself open and exposed her juices, her assertiveness surprised him once more. He almost spilled his seed at the sight. He explored the tender opening she'd laid bare. His body hardened each time she moaned and as more nectar leaked down his throat. When he buried his tongue deep inside the velvety folds, her body stiffened and shivered. Still, she begged for more.

Annabella offered herself in ways she’d never done before. This Bella was far more audacious than the one he'd once known, and he loved her all the more, if that was at all possible.

With his chin sopping wet, he suckled the swollen bud of her womanhood, rolling it between his lips and grazing his teeth over the delicate skin. When he swept his tongue over her hooded treasure, she screamed out his name, her legs trembling beside his head. Brazenly pushing her body into his face, she demanded more.

His arousal boiled like lava. He pierced the tender skin of her vulva with his canines. She groaned and gave a breathless ”yes”. Her pain and pleasure was completely in his control.

His tongue continued its erotic dance across her swollen clit, and soon a delectable cocktail of blood and nectar trickled down his throat. Never had he lost himself in such a moment. He teased and tasted with tongue and fang, his desire mounting. He would have given anything to feel the moistness of her mouth swallowing him, but he needed to satisfy her; to feel her limbs spasm in response to the pleasures he manipulated. Lust built at an alarming rate, but his avidity to please her overrode those selfish needs that had seemed so important centuries before.

Her orgasm built slowly. He sensed the moment in the tightening of her muscles, the dripping of liquid fire on his face, and the way she quivered each time he touched her. He suckled harder and flicked his tongue more rapidly over the nerve-sensitive skin.

Her scream rang out long and loud, just like her orgasm. She convulsed against his mouth, repeating his name like a sacred litany. Moisture trickled onto his abdomen where his cock lay at rigid attention.

When her tremors subsided, it took every ounce of willpower to stop, but stop he did. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against her abdomen, his voice cracking with emotion. ”There is no turning back, my Bella. What I am about to offer you, you have the power to deny. I shall not force this upon you a second time. I gave you no choice the first time, but now, now you must decide.” What will I do if she refuses? He pushed the dismal thought away.

To his relief he heard her whisper, ”I would rather die in your arms than have to live in this life without you.”


You can find Dawné Dominique and her books here.

Buy: Amazon





April 10, 2015

Friday Flames: Flame's Electrifying Sexy Heat



Look who's here! It's HOT erotic author Daryl Devore!

SQUEE!!

Take it over, girlfriend!

*****

Hi everyone. Excited to be here on Friday Flames.  I brought along a steamy excerpt from my latest FL.E.S.H., an erotic contemporary billionaire story.

 *****


          The warmth of someone's butt pressing into his belly broke through Peyton's sleep. He blinked, yawned, and opened his eyes. Flame snuggled next to him, asleep with a small smile on her lips.
          What an unexpected discovery she'd been. The memories of last night tried to push forward. He rubbed his face. No. He couldn't think of her. Enjoy her and move on. He had business issues to solve. He didn't need a complication. Especially one as enticing as Flame.
          If the situation were different, there could be a chance he'd continue this relationship, but he most likely knew the outcome. His love life's track record wasn't outstanding.
          He crawled out of the warm sheets, away from the distractingly hot body still asleep on the bed, and padded to the bathroom. After finishing a quick shower, he exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
          "Good morning." She lay sprawled on the center of the bed, her short brown hair, mussed in a sexy-as-hell bedhead sort of way. His hands itched to massage her small, but firm and delicious, breasts. His cock twitched as his gaze lowered to her bush, where he knew a nirvana hid that he wished he had years to explore.
          "Morning. Sleep well?"
          She stretched. "Passed out. What time is it?"
          His resolve broke. He dropped the towel and sat next to her on the bed. "I think it's time that I give you a proper good morning."
         "I think I love the sound of that." She giggled. "Back in two secs." She bolted across the room. A moment later she jumped back onto the bed and squirmed her perfect ass against the sheets.
He leaned forward. His lips meeting hers, softly at first, but passion bubbled, and their tongues danced about each other. A jolt hit his cock as she raked her teeth across his bottom lip. He kneaded her flesh. Her erect nipples peaked out from between his fingers. When he tickled his fingertips across her nipple, she closed her eyes and sighed.
"Open your eyes. Why do women always hide? Watch me. Watch how you respond. You're so hot. Your nipples react so—" He interrupted himself by wrapping his lips around her right rosy bud and caressing it with his tongue. "See. Look how firm and… perky it is."
Flame giggled.
He shook his head. "Yes, I said perky. I don't think I've ever used that word before, but it describes your nipples perfectly." He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her left bud. It quivered. His lips parted. He licked her pink flesh and then slipped her nipple between his teeth, closing his lips around it.
Flame's back arched, pressing her breast into his face. Her breaths lengthened to long, deep, contented sighs.
While he lost himself in the pleasure of her breasts, Peyton stroked her dark brown patch of hair. He tapped the insides of her thighs, asking her to open her legs. Spreading her nether lips, he slid his finger from her pussy to her clit. He caressed the sides and circled her nub.
Flame tensed. Moans rumbled in her throat. Peyton slipped a finger into her wetness and stroked her. He adjusted his position so his finger faced upward, tickling the inside of her while his thumb made random circles on top of her clit.
She gripped the sheets, pulled her knees up, and splayed them to the sides, giving him more room to maneuver. He increased his speed and was rewarded with a moan and a first spasm. Her muscles clenched on his fingers. She gasped as her whole body tensed.
He didn't stop. He kept a steady pace, helping her revel in her pleasure. With a shudder, she relaxed. Placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, he whispered, "That's the proper way to say good morning."

*****

FL. E. S. H.
Flame's Electrifying Sexy Heat

When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes.

After a mistake by a surgeon’s scalpel shattered Fuchsia Quinn's dance career, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward. As the owner of a small, struggling dance school in a depressed neighborhood she supplements her income with a late night job at a dive bar. Haunted by the fear of humiliation, if her secret is revealed, her life was under control until the night he walked into the bar.

Peyton Lang, having run from a bad neighborhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire. Frustrated that his current multi-million dollar project is stalled, Peyton drops in to LEATHER-ICIOUS for a simple drink and late night entertainment. What he saw was a beautiful redhead. What he found was he wanted her.

After a lusty night with a hot pole dancer, Peyton and Fuchsia's worlds are about to collide.





iTunes - https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/f-l-e-s-h-a-billionaire-story-ll/id981253283?mt=11


You can find Daryl at these locations:




April 6, 2015

Jenna Jaxon - Only Marriage Will Do


The latest Historical Romance release from Jenna Jaxon:




OFFICIAL BLURB:

Not every happy-ever-after begins at “I do.”

When the hero of her dreams rescues Lady Juliet Ferrers from the man claiming to be her husband, she is sure she has found her one true love.  But is she free to marry him?  Not to be deterred, Juliet arranges for her hero, Captain Amiable Dawson, to escort her to her family estate, hoping that along the way she can win his love. 

Amiable is charmed by the sweet, beautiful woman he rescued, and although he has grave reservations about her marital status, he allows himself to be swept up into Juliet’s romantic spell and the promise of a happy-ever-after. 



The spell breaks when legal questions arise and Juliet faces the horror of not knowing if she is married to her knight in shining armor or the cruel viscount who is determined to have her at any price.


EXCERPT:

London July 2, 1761

The brass lion-head knocker under Amiable Dawson’s hand sent a sharp rap through the dark walnut door of Dunham House for the second time. The hot July sun hadn’t done his temper any good as he waited on the marble stoop for entrance to the Marquess of Dalbury’s townhouse. He’d been in a foul mood ever since the news of his beloved Katarina’s marriage to the marquess had reached him. Blast it to hell, he was supposed to have married the girl. At least he could make sure she was well and well taken care of by this man she had married.

At last a short, dark-haired maid opened the door. She took one look at him, gasped, and stepped back into the house. Her eyes widened and she glanced to her right, wringing her hands. “Who may I say—

A man shouted from within. “No, I do not believe you.”

“It is true, I tell you!” A woman’s voice, raised and sharp with terror, sent a chill through Amiable.
Katarina. What in God’s name?

He barged past the stunned girl and strode down the hall toward the commotion. He burst through the doorway, expecting to defend the woman he loved, only to stop dead at the sight of a man lunging across a sofa and grasping a woman by the wrist. Amiable had half drawn his sword before he realized the woman was not Katarina, but a complete stranger. He dropped it back into its scabbard. 
This was none of his affair

The young man, foppishly dressed in a robin’s egg blue satin coat dripping too many layers of frothy lace at throat and wrists looked at Amiable, a snarl on his lips.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the woman wrenched her arm from the man’s grip. “Praise God. Here he is.” She staggered as she righted herself. “Now you will have to believe me, Philippe.”

The fop scrambled back off the sofa and groped for a black lacquer walking stick that lay on the floor. Lips pressed together, he glowered at the woman. “That remains to be seen, ma chere. In any case, I have shown you the papers. They speak for themselves.”

The woman ran from behind the sofa to Amiable’s side, grazed a kiss over his cheek and whispered, “For God’s sake, help me. I am alone here and he is trying to take me away. Please, agree with whatever I say.”

Smiling into her pleading face, he grasped her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze to signal his acquiescence. “Whatever is the matter, my dear?” Hell if he knew. But he could play his part, even with little information. Let the lady lead and he’d follow as well as he could.

The woman smiled then took a deep breath. “My dear, may I present Viscount St. Cyr?” She nodded toward the fop. “Philippe, this is my husband, the Earl of Manning.”


BUY LINKS:





April 4, 2015

Challenge: Name that Porno Movie!


I need your inventiveness!

Have you ever sat around with friends (drinking, no doubt) and thought of funny titles for imaginary porn flicks?

Here's a real example:

"WhorreyPotter" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:WhorreyPotter.jpg#/media/File:WhorreyPotter.jpg




I'm looking for original titles -- yes, I'll be checking. And please don't comment or email saying how disgusted you are with this post. I realize it's a slippery slope. 

Remember: this is all in GOOD FUN! 

There'll be several winners.

What will you win? How about your creative title(s) going into my next book?

Be inspired. Choose originality over common. Get naughty!

I'm looking forward to some zany, outlandish, crack-me-up titles!!

Due by 4/11/15.

~ Sheri ~




April 3, 2015

Friday Flames - On A Red Horse





Welcome to Friday Flames where what we read is HOT HOT HOT!!

Today's flaming headliner is Monica Corwin and her latest release: On A Red Horse.


Blurb:

Scarlet needs a new job, but Horseman of the Apocalypse doesn't sound good on a resume. Three years ago she followed her companions to Earth in an effort to live human lives. But the moment she left her husband Tyr she knew life wouldn't be worth living. Lonely and longing for her husband, Scarlet is on a path of destruction that could endanger all the riders.

Tyr, god of justice, hunts his wife across the realms. From Hell to the Golden Throne, he travels until he finds her working as a phone operator. Scarlet is no longer the woman he fell in love with, and he is determined to bring that woman back to him if it takes the rest of eternity.

Even though the Horsemen live on Earth, they are still responsible for guarding four seals that can unleash the Apocalypse. When a prophecy is awoken by a deity who only has her own interests at heart, they must go on the defensive to keep their homes on Earth and protect the seals. If even one seal opens, it will start a chain reaction that will force the Horsemen to take up their mantles and destroy the new lives they've worked so hard to build.


****
Excerpt:

The main spray hit her back in a fine blasting fan as she stepped behind the glass. She sighed aloud as the water coaxed the knots from her shoulders allowing her to release some of the tension that had wound her tight since Tyr's arrival. It sure beat the plastic shower curtain from her old place. The steam built up slowly as it fully immersed her in the heat and damp she often sought solace in. Long, hot showers were her one luxury.

The door handle rattled, and Tyr entered. She was tempted to duck further into the steam, but after a few seconds the action seemed ridiculous. He'd seen every inch of her more than once and never once complained about her appearance. She locked eyes with him through the glass as he approached staring enrapt as water cascaded down her body.

"You lost weight," he said, leaning against the vanity countertop so he had full view of her. "I noticed earlier, but I did not think it appropriate to say anything at the time."

She didn't really have an answer to that so she remained silent, dropping her gaze to focus on washing her hair. As she lathered Scarlet felt his eyes on her. When she finally looked at him, the large bulge at the front of his trousers caught her attention. He made no move to hide it and showed no shame. That was something she missed about non-humans. Humans seemed to feel shame for everything they did, even if it was enjoyable. Oh I ate a piece of cake and now I feel terrible about myself. Oh I read a good book; that was a waste of time. Tyr's complete lack of shame turned her on. Or it might have been the kiss. Heat snaked through her, and a wicked feeling consumed her. She might not be ready for sex, but she could do other things.

After she finished rinsing her hair, she licked her lips and met his gaze which he eagerly accepted. But he dropped his gaze as her hand trailed down her body to rest in the curls at her core. She parted herself to rest her finger on her swollen clit. It had been a long time since she allowed herself this, but it wasn't really for her. It was for him. Scarlet wanted him to see that she was still a sexual creature, and that she still wanted him.

In turn he unzipped his pants and delved his palm inside. She couldn't see all of him through the fabric and his grip, but the glossy pink head stood tall above the waistband of his pants amplifying her own arousal. He matched her swipe for swipe as she circled her clit sending pulses of lighting through her veins. He pumped himself inside his pants as she watched.

It didn't take long with such beautiful visual stimulus before she felt the slow, hazy edge of her orgasm creeping on. She circled her clit faster adding a third finger and bracing herself against the shower wall for balance. As she clutched her hand between her legs and rubbed harder, Scarlet watched him move faster. He bit his lip, and she knew he was on the edge of his own orgasm. After a moment all thought fled, and she broke apart against her hand. She closed her eyes as the sensation washed over her in a chill juxtaposed against the wet heat of the shower spray. It was a soft, gentle wave that ebbed back slowly. As she removed her fingers, she opened her eyes to see he had spent all over his hand.

It felt good to see him undone. His hair was wild, cheeks pink, and his lip red where he had bitten it during his own climax. He washed his hand and redid his pants without a word, but she wasn't finished with him yet. She wanted him, and he was her husband.


LINKS:




Monica Corwin is an outspoken writer who attempts to make romance accessible to everyone no matter their preferences. As a new Northern Ohioian Monica enjoys snowdrifts, three seasons of weather, and disliking Michigan. When not writing Monica spends time with her daughter and her ever-growing collection of tomes about King Arthur.














April 1, 2015

Hilarious Bestselling Author Melodie Campbell and her latest book, Code Name: Gypsy Moth.



Please join me in welcoming my good friend, Melodie Campbell:


GO AWAY, SPACE ANGEL! I’M TRYING TO WRITE CRIME
By Melodie Campbell




A funny thing happened on the way to the crime book: it became a sci-fi/romance novella.

That’s the funny thing about being a fiction writer.  Sometimes you don’t pick your characters – they pick you.

I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, whenno, that’s not how it happened.

It was far worse.

“Write a spy novel!” said the notable crime reviewer (one of that rare breed who still has a newspaper column.) We were yapping over a few drinks last spring.  “A funny one. Modesty Blaise meets Maxwell Smart.”

“Sure!” I said, slurping Pinot by the $16 glass. 

And I intended to.  Truly I did.  I tried all summer. I even met with a former CSIS operative to get the scoop on the spy biz (think CIA, but Canada – yes, he was polite.)   Wrote for two months solid.  The result waskinda flat. 

I started to hate it.

Then, in the middle of the night (don’t you find this always happens in the middle of the night?) a few characters started popping up.  Colourful, fun characters, from another time. They took my mind by siege.  “GO AWAY,” I told them. “I’m trying to write a crime book!”

They didn’t.  It was a criminal sit-in.  They wouldn’t leave until I agreed to write their tale.

So the modern day spy novel became a futuristic gal who runs a bar on a space-station, but is also a spy story!  With romance and a lot of laughs, of course.

Two more months spent in feverish writing.  Another two in rewrites.  Then another, to convince my publisher that the project had legs.

CODE NAME: GYPSY MOTH is the result.  Yet another crossing the genres escapade.
Written by me, and a motley crew of night visitors.

CODE NAME: GYPSY MOTH
It isn't easy being a female barkeep in the final frontier...especially when you’re also a spy!

Nell Romana loves two things: running the Blue Angel Bar, and Dalamar, a notorious modern-day knight for hire.  Too bad he doesn't know she is actually an undercover agent.  When Dalamar is called away on a routine job, Nell uncovers a rebel plot to overthrow the Federation. She has to act fast and alone. 

Then the worst happens.  Her cover is blown, and more than their love is at stake…

Pre-order on AMAZON
Pre-order on SMASHWORDS

Bio: Melodie Campbell



The Toronto Sun called her Canada’s “Queen of Comedy.”  Library Journal compared her to Janet Evanovich.  Melodie Campbell got her start writing standup.  She has over 200 publications and nine awards for fiction.  Code Name: Gypsy Moth (Imajin Books) is her eighth book.


Buy Code Name: Gypsy Moth today and get Rowena and the Dark Lord free!  (I love to introduce readers to my other series.  Email me at mcampbell50@cogeco.ca with proof of purchase and I will gift you Rowena and the Dark Lord.)


March 27, 2015

7 Things About My Writing Life - A Different Friday Flames



Thank you to my Facebook friend Yvonne Nicolas, I’ve been challenged to share seven things about my writing.

*Cue blank look* What could I possibly say about my writing that anyone would be interested in?



Whewhere we go…

1.       I write in bursts that vary anywhere from one word to one hour. Why? Because I don’t have an office (yet) where I can close the door and shut out the world.

My concentration is constantly interrupted by the voices of my spawn calling, “Hey, Mom?”, my husband (who, by the way, has HIS own office) yelling, “Babe, will you look at this before it goes out?”, or a variety of neighing, baaing, and barking animals.

2.       Most of my writing is completed while standing. And it’s not because I don’t have a chair.

Sitting is for sissies. Standing is for studs (or stud-ettes). And if you believe that, I have lakeside property for sale in drought stricken California.  


Truth is, my back and bum hurt if I sit longer than fifteen or twenty minutes. The panche of youth has come back to haunt me. *sigh*

3.   While the first book I wrote ~ Remedy Maker ~ had a complete 30,000 word outline, the second book ~ Troll-y Yours ~ I wrote shooting from the hip.

And what did that teach me? Apparently nothing, because I wrote the next two stories using a combination of both methods. Now that I understand myself and the writing methods that work best for me, a complete outline is my modus operandi.


4.     (Am I really only on #4??)  Many of my book characters are based on real people. (Yes, that means YOU!)

Don’t worry, I’ll change your name and appearance so even your mother won’t recognize you. Once upon a time, I sold skin care products for a multi-level marketing company. (This has nothing to do with the aforementioned appearance change! Stop it!!) During that time, I stared looked at everyone’s face to evaluate their skin and makeup needs. Now you’re all fodder for my books. You’re characters plotting to take over the world! Buahahaha!!! Or… maybe you’re stuck in a pitch dark room, crying for mommy. But if you’re really nice to me, well, I’ll just leave it at that.

5    Robotic vacuum cleaners RULE!

Why did I mention this as part of my writing life? Mainly because I don’t have time to mess with that crap when there’s a story clogging my brain. Even as I type right now, my little friend has happily sucked up the spoils of our living room war and is zooming to redock her little self. One thing I’ve learned in my writer’s life: outsource that which others can do.

6.       I find exercise is important – especially when I’m sedentary all day.

 My brain fires on all two pistons much better after a quick thirty-minute walk. Moving away from the white space and into the world clears my mental hard drive and opens the spongy file to receive. When I’m writing a particularly tough scene, one that is emotionally driven, I’ll head out the door with my little dog. If a walk in the fresh air doesn’t help, and it’s too early to start drinking, I’ll search YouTube for an appropriate punishment in Yoga.

(NOT me)
  [a likeness of me]

7.      Most of my writing is typed on the laptop.

 Before the laptop, I used one of my kids’ computers. If those were both in use, I’d use my husband’s desktop model in his office. I tried to write freehand once, but my mind moved faster than I could pen it out and I ended up frustrated, finger cramped, and needing a drink.

  So there you have it, Sheri Fredricks in a nutshell. And while that remark alone should generate a few hardy-har comments in itself, it is the REAL me.

  Thank you for stopping by! If you have a moment, let me now a few tidbits of your writing habits.

   Love, Sheri


March 6, 2015

Where a Cowboy is Proud - on Friday Flames




My very good friend D'Ann Lindun has another GREAT western romance hitting the shelves. This time her book comes in the form of an anthology with five other western writers.

Can I get a Yee-Haw??




Cowboy Proud
from Cowboy Up 2

Tagline:  She left town to chase her dreams... He stayed and ignored his... Can they find their dreams together? 

Blurb: All Madeline Harper ever wanted was to escape the tight fences of Black Mountain, Colorado. Nothing would stop her from pursuing her goals--not a devoted boyfriend or infant son. Leaving everything behind, she landed her dream job as a Western Girl jeans model. Her sister’s wedding is the only thing that can entice her home. What she learns upon her return shakes her to the core…and changes everything.

For the last five years Shan Ellis’ life has consisted of taking care of his son and being a cowhand on his parents’ ranch. He scarified everything to be a single dad. College. A career. Girls.  Now, the one woman he can’t forget is back in town. Can he take a chance, and risk his heart, or steer clear and never know what might have been?

Excerpt:
His lips covered hers in a way that left no doubt to his intentions—he was going to make her his tonight. She opened under his forceful assault and his tongue plundered her mouth. He tasted like cinnamon or peppermint. She didn’t know which, or care. All that mattered was the way his lips and tongue tortured hers until she couldn’t think straight.
When he tested the weight of her breasts in his palms, her nipples peaked and pressed against her satin bra. To give him access to them, she slid back until her back was against the door. He covered her body with his bigger one, feet on the floor, stuck under the steering wheel.
She moaned into his mouth.
He responded by releasing her lips. “Damn. How the hell did we ever fit in here?”
 “We didn’t.” She giggled. “But we didn’t care back then.”
“I seem to remember this a different way.” His voice was low, husky and so full of need it sent shock waves straight between her legs. Before she could react, he flipped their positions. He sat in the seat with her straddling him. Reaching alongside the seat with his right hand, he moved the seat back far as it would go.
 “That’s a little better. Now there’s just one more problem.”
 “What?”
 “You have on too many clothes.” He reached for the buttons on her blouse. In seconds he’d bared her breasts. Taking one in his mouth, he pulled deep. Madeline arched into the sensation of his lips and tongue caressing her nipple.
She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and held him in place as he sucked. With his free hand, he covered her other breast, squeezing the nipple between his first and second fingers.
Her stomach clenched and she thrust her pelvis toward his.
 “That works better without clothes,” he said against her breast.
Together, they worked her jeans from her hips and legs.
 “How did we ever do this?” she muttered, kicking off her boots.
 “I don’t know. Getting naked used to seemed easier.” Shan wiggled out of his own jeans, shorts and boots.
He reclaimed her mouth, his hands covering both breasts. Using his thumbs, he flicked her nipples until they stood at attention. She arched again, her head thrown back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
No one had ever made her feel like Shan.
More than the way his mouth on her breasts, his hands on her skin, it was the way his soul touched hers that felt so right.
She whimpered and pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth and darted his tongue inside. Their tongues twisted together in a mating ritual old as time. Familiar as yesterday.
She spread her legs, the hair on his thighs tickling hers. She slid forward, rocking her pelvis against his erect cock.
He moaned into her mouth.
She lifted her hips and he slid his hand between them, cupping her feminine mound. His thumb circled her clit until she gasped.
Reaching down, she clasped his cock. For a moment, she held him, teasing. Hard to believe such soft skin could be so hard underneath. She ran a tentative stroke along the underside, to his balls and back to the tip. A shudder ripped through his entire body.
She wrapped her fist around him and stroked.
With each slow, steady tug he seemed to grow larger. Harder.
He slid one, then two fingers inside her, sliding his thumb over her clit. He spread his fingers wide. “You’re so wet.”
She nipped his jaw. “Oh, God, Shan.”
 “Feel good?” he said in her ear. “I can make it better.”
His sexy words caused her wet walls to clench around his fingers. He tipped his fingers forward and pushed deep.
With a muffled cry against his neck, she came, riding wave after wave. Finally the tremors subsided.
Brushing her hair back, he kissed her deep.
The pointed tips of her nipples brushed the hair on his chest, the feeling one of the most erotic things she’d ever experienced. When his work roughened fingers brushed over the extended points, an aftershock hit her.
 “You have protection?” she managed to gasp.

Buy: Amazon


Bio:
Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there's just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!
D’Ann loves to hear from readers! Please contact her at :