Sunday, September 24, 2017

Sizzling Sunday: Nasty Business (#BDSM #multicultural #SizzlingSunday)

Sizzling Sunday banner
Welcome back to another edition of Sizzling Sunday, when I share some of my most explicit and erotic excerpts. Today I’ve got one of my favorite scenes from my contemporary erotic romance Nasty Business.

Short Blurb

All's fair in lust and business. "Ruthless" Ruby Maxwell Chen, the deceptively feminine CEO of a huge British business empire, may have met her match in wily, charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell. Both are used to winning; neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth their paths to success.

Mulholland Drive turns out to be a narrow, torturously twisted road that runs along the crest of the mountains above Hollywood. Rick drives much faster than seems safe, yet once again he’s relaxed and in control. The MG careens around curves, hugging the pavement. My whole body hums with excitement. I can’t tell how much is sexual and how much born of our reckless velocity and the wildness of my hair whipping around my face. The wind is simultaneously a slap and a caress against my skin. I feel as though I am glowing. Totally alive.

My sex is humming, too, quivering, throbbing along with the engine of the car. Rick glances over at me. For the briefest instant, his eyes are pools of pure lust. Triumph and fear simultaneously seize me. He wants me. He’s dangerous. Then both emotions are submerged by the answering lust flooding through me.

Take off your top,” he shouts at me above the wind. “I dare you.”

A silly notion, I think, but I want to do it. I want to feel the wind against my naked breasts. “Keep your eyes on the road,” I call back. I pull my blouse over my head and push it down in the space between the seat and the door so that it won’t blow away. Then I slip my bra straps off my shoulders and peel the cups away from my swollen nipples.

The air dances over my heated flesh, cool, provocative. “Go ahead, touch yourself,” Rick shouts. “You know you want to.”

He’s right, and suddenly I don’t care that he’s there, or what he thinks, I’ve got to pleasure myself. I grip my nipples between index and forefingers, squeezing until the sensation reaches the edge of pain. My cunt contracts as I release them, then contracts again at the exquisite tickling of their stiffness against my palms. The wind lashes my hair against my skin, sweet little stings that make me hunger for more intense sensation. My clit is so swollen that the slightest movement in the bucket seat sends sparks of pleasure shooting through my body.

Rick is yelling something again, but the wind carries his words away. He makes a rude gesture, pantomimes raising my skirt. I’m already in the process, wriggling against the seat belt as I try to pull the fabric out from underneath my bum. Finally, I manage to free my thighs from the skirt’s constriction. Looking straight at my companion, I pull my soaked panties out of the way with one hand, and sink the other one deep inside my hungering pussy.

Oh, I love the look on his face, shock, astonishment, arousal, but the sensations welling up in me are too intense to bear open-eyed. I’m not delicate. I don’t tease myself, don’t play, don’t take myself gradually to the top. No ceremony, no technique. Desperate, I use both hands, working with single-minded fury to bring myself off.

I forget Martell. I forget where I am, racing along a dangerous road at a dangerous speed with a dangerous man. There is no reality but the fire, the electricity, the tension crackling in my cunt like lightning in a thunderhead. I tilt my pelvis, forcing my fingers deeper into my slippery depths. My thighs stick to the leather seats as I rock back and forth. In and out, faster, harder, more, more please just a little more…

The climax is sudden and unexpected. A shattering like glass, fragments ripping gloriously through my stretched flesh. Momentary blackness cloaks the setting sun. When I finally open my eyes, I find I’m slumped in the seat, skirt and bra tangled around my waist, still trembling.

It takes me a moment to realize that the car has stopped. Martell is watching me in fascination, like a cat stalking a bird. He grins when he realizes that I’m back among the conscious. “Wasn’t that fun?” he asks, with heavy irony. Torn and tired as I am, his voice still sets up stirrings in my sex.

I don’t answer. It doesn’t seem to matter. He comes around to my side and opens my door. “Get out of the car, Ruby.” We’ve pulled over into a parking area, a scenic lookout. The checkerboard miles of Los Angeles are spread out below us. Off in the distance, a fiery sunset paints the Pacific. He holds out his hand to steady me, and the touch is enough to send me back into a frenzy of desire.

Lean against the railing,” he commands. I don’t seem to have any will to resist. “I want to admire the view.”

You promised,” I protest weakly, as he pulls my sodden knickers down to my ankles.

Well, you started it,” he replies. “Don’t move, now.”

He leaves me there, bent over the guard rail, my arse bared to the world. Why don’t I get up and cover my nakedness? Why don’t I scream, or run off down the road to find a ride? I don’t understand.

I admit to myself: I’m weak with lust. I want more, and he knows it. He’s using my own desire against me. A breeze tangles my hair in my eyes and trails caresses along the back of my thighs. Where is he? What is he doing?

I hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel, then his laugh. “Just as I suspected, Ruby; you always come prepared. Just look what I found in your handbag?” The sinking sun glints red on the silvery vibrator that he holds in front of my face.

Get your own copy of Nasty Business!



Fireborn Publishing

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Share the flame! (#pnr #prizes #99cents @CarisRoane)

Caris is giving away a Red Wire-Wrapped PNR Bracelet (International Winner Receives Gift Card) and a $25 Amazon Gift Card to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

The “Wow” Prize!

Just leave a comment for a chance to win!

Caris Roane here and I'm so glad you're touring with me. As a bonus, I’m giving away a Reader Care Package to one lucky winner just for leaving a comment on any or all of the blogs on my tour. What’s in the Reader Care Package: Truffles, Ghiradelli Chocolate, print copy of GATES OF RAPTURE, scented lotion and soap, a journal and other goodies! Be sure to visit as many blogs on my tour as you can. The more blogs you comment on, the greater your chances of winning. The Reader Care Package is US only, but an international winner will receive a gift card. How I choose the winner: I will choose the winning blog then choose the winning comment sometime after midnight, October 5th, Arizona time. I will use Random dot org to make the selection. Good luck!

About the Books

BLOOD FLAME, Book #1 of the Flame Series:

Vampire Officer Connor of the Crescent Border Patrol tries to suppress his desire for the powerful witch, Iris Meldeere. Because the woman possesses the ability to kill him with the tips of her fingers, how can he possibly fall in love with her? When a double homicide throws them together, he soon finds his deepest fantasies fulfilled as Iris succumbs to his seductions. But as they battle together to stay alive, and love begins to consume them both, will the witch be able to forgive the dark secrets of his past …

AMETHYST FLAME, Book #2 of the Flame Series

Hunky Nathan Vaughn, six-six, and one muscled vampire warrior, has had a lot of trouble in his life and needs a good woman to help even things out. Vaughn and Emma met once in the past, the night they rescued three teenage girls from a kidnapping ring. But a vampire and a witch can’t have a relationship in Five Bridges. So, they parted, determined never to see each other again. Emma was desolate, then the phone rang. Vaughn called and kept calling and she kept answering. But the rescue they shared turned out to piss off one very bad wizard who decided they both needed to die. Now they’re in it, fighting to stay alive and working oh-so-hard NOT to fall in love. Will they survive when so much is against them?

Books in the Flame Series:

Book 1: Blood Flame
Book 3: Dark Flame
Book 4: Amber Flame
Holiday Novella: Christmas Flame


From Chapter One – Caught in a dangerous situation, Vaughn tries to get Emma to leave, but she has a job to do. Together, they’ve found three dead teenage girls in the Graveyard of Five Bridges.
Over the beers he and Emma had shared the night of the rescue, she’d told him she was clean but that half the Elegance force wasn’t. He’d confessed a similar statistic for his own vampire territory of Crescent. That’s when things had shifted and he’d started seeing her as a woman he admired as opposed to a witch who could kill him with the energy she could release through the tips of her fingers.

Another burst of laughter came on the heels of the arrival of yet another Border Patrol vehicle. His survival instincts kicked in. “We should leave, Em. Right now. I can fly us straight out of here. Someone else can pick up your bike and my SUV later.”

He held out his arm to her and gestured to his foot. He’d flown her before, so she knew the drill. All she had to do was hop on and he’d have them out of danger within seconds.

She glanced at his boot but shook her head. “I can’t go. Not yet.”

Why? We both know this is a set-up, and isn’t it bad enough Loghry got these girls? So, how about we get the hell out of here?”

Vaughn, you know what this is like for me. It’s the way my alter power manifests. I have to tend to the girls. Their spirits are calling to me.” She started down the side of the ditch.

Vaughn’s heartrate kicked up a notch. “Emma, don’t do this. We’ve gotta go now.”

The girls need me and it’s the least I can do after what they’ve been through.”

Vaughn didn’t try to argue with her and instead began his own descent. He might not want her to stay, but like hell he was leaving her alone in No Man’s Land.

Emma Delacey, Tribunal Public Safety officer, understood Vaughn’s concern. She felt it as well, that she was heading into a trap.

She’d been the first to arrive at the triple homicide in the Graveyard, a part of Five Bridges she’d only been to a handful of times.

Her corrupt boss, Tribunal Chief Donaldson, had ordered her to head out here or resign. She wasn’t a quitter, though the sweat on his forehead had told her she was in trouble the minute he’d come into her office. The three major cartels of Five Bridges owned one of Donaldson’s testicles. The dark spellcasters of Elegance territory held the other in a crushing grip. She wasn’t even sure she blamed Donaldson anymore. If you were high up in the administration and didn’t play ball, you got killed…


I hope you found yourself caught up in this excerpt from Chapter One of AMETHYST FLAME.

About Caris

Caris Roane is the NY Times Bestselling author of Paranormal Romance. She began her career with Kensington Publishing and for eighteen years wrote Regency Romance as Valerie King. In 2005, Romantic Times Magazine honored her with a career achievement award for her Regency Romance work. To-date, she has published eighty-nine books. Thirty-nine of those are paranormal romances. Most of her paranormal stories are self-published while several in the early days were penned for St. Martin's Press.

Though her stories conjure up hunky PNR warriors, like vampires and wolf-shifters, the romance is everything, including a satisfying Happily Ever After. Her hope is that the reader will come away engrossed in the lives of her tortured heroes and her worthy women as they wage war, as they make love, and as they face the tough issues of life and relationships!

Caris lives in the Phoenix area, in a growing town called Buckeye. When not writing, she’s a real homebody. She loves gardening, sewing, and cooking. She also enjoys creating jewelry and offers her handcrafted, PNR bracelet giveaways to her newsletter and blog subscribers. Her motto? Live the fang!

If you want to know more about Caris, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Conquering the Party Wall (#lesfic #eroticromance #opposites @IamCheyenneBlue)

By Cheyenne Blue (Guest Blogger)

Party walls are a necessary part of a lot of modern modern living, and it seems most people have a horror story to share about a neighbour from the other side of the dividing wall. Paper-thin interior walls are a bad match when your neighbour always seems to vacuum at 3.00am. Or your morning aerobics wakes your neighbour too early. Barking dogs, noisy sex, differing musical tastes, parties, and even the lark versus night owl can all lead to stress.

I’ve heard of great tales and long-friendships arising around the party wall too. In Melbourne, years ago, I ended up with half a dog thanks to the party wall. My neighbour had a Jack Russell terrier called Feedback (his owner worked in radio). The old terrace houses we lived in were rather decrepit, and when Feedback’s owner went off to his late afternoon shift, Feedback would climb a rather convenient loquat tree by jumping from branch to branch until he was level with the top of the fence. He’d then take a flying leap into my back yard and come trotting in through the open door for some late afternoon company after I’d returned from my nursing shift. He was unable to return to his side of the fence, but when he heard his owner come home, he’d bark at the party wall so that his owner knew where he was.

We shared Feedback for a couple of years: mornings with his official owner, afternoons with me. We ended up putting a doggie door in the party wall to make it easier for him.

My latest lesbian romance novel Party Wall is about two very different women with two very different attitudes to life, who have to live and work side-by-side separated by the flimsy wooden wall between their premises. Lily’s dream has been to run a sex shop and space where women can come and embrace the physical side of their lives in a positive and caring way. But she soon runs up against her neighbour, Freya, whose new-age store and yoga studio are the antithesis of Lily’s shop.

Or are they?

I hope you’ll decide to give Party Wall a go.


From the moment Freya looks in the window of the brash, new sex shop in Grasstree Flat she knows it will be nothing but trouble. For a start, it will clash with her own New Age store right next door. And she’s right. Outgoing newcomer, Lily, begins to intrude on Freya’s well-ordered life. Freya’s friends, lifestyle, and even her cat are all affected by Lily’s magic touch. Even Freya’s yoga classes rub shoulders with Lily’s sexual-expression workshops. Lily stands for everything Freya has lost in life: playfulness, spontaneity, and delight in the physical. And sex. But does Lily have more in common with Freya than the wall that divides them?

A lesbian romance about crossing the lines that hold us back.


The sun reflected off the window, obscuring the view of the shop inside. Still, Freya was hyper aware of the products on display. She shuffled her feet and coughed, but didn’t move towards the door. In the window, she caught the reflection of Carly’s easy smile, as if she frequented sex toy stores all the time. Freya moved to one side. Now the sun slanted low, slicing through the glass. A mannequin wearing red-and-black, skimpy, lace underwear caught her attention.

Tasteless,” she muttered.

Carly glanced sideways at her. “I’ve seen worse in the chain stores in Mackay. I think it’s sexy. I’d wear it—if I were ten years younger and ten kilos lighter.”

Freya sniffed. “There is so much inherently wrong with that statement. What you wear shouldn’t be determined by an outside opinion of what looks good. Your self-worth isn’t dependent on another’s approval—”

Okay, okay.” Carly’s interruption was tempered with a smile. “I didn’t mean it quite like that.” She pointed to a discreet sign in the corner of the window. “‘A woman’s pleasure is in her own hands.’ Clever.”

Why don’t they just show a purple dildo and be done with it.” Freya took a tiny step towards the shop next door. Her shop.

Carly shrugged. “No doubt there’s some law against it. When did you last see more than lingerie and posters in a sex shop window?”

I’m not in the habit of looking.” Freya’s voice was riveted steel. “I’m surprised you are.”

I don’t often.” Carly grabbed Freya’s hand and pulled her back towards the window. “After all, we don’t get much chance living here, do we? The last sex shop I saw was in Brisbane when Andy and I went down for the rugby. But that wasn’t like this—it appeared to cater mostly to men. This one seems different.”

In Freya’s jaundiced opinion, that was like calling a spade a manual digging implement. “It’s all the same. Catering to the baser instincts of men. Objectifying women. Turning them into sex objects.”

Carly turned to face her, and Freya caught the little wrinkle between her eyes. Good. Maybe she was getting through to her friend. This shop was everything she found repellent. Its silver-and-purple paintwork shone garishly in the sun. The wide window showed only the paltry display and a backdrop of black-and-silver cloth blocking the rest of the shop from view. Probably a good thing. Who knew what was behind those folds and artfully arranged drapes? The mannequin was on the left, and the sign Carly had noticed was propped up on the other side. The middle was empty, a blank canvas for… Freya shuddered. What would end up there? She already knew she wouldn’t like it.

Her gaze moved right, to her own shop window. A Woman’s Spirit. She narrowed her eyes and saliva filled her mouth. Even the name of the next-door shop, A Woman’s Pleasure, was offensive, being so similar to her own. Her shop front was tasteful, painted the silver-green of gum leaves. Nothing stopped a passer-by seeing inside; indeed, the wide window drew the gaze inwards to the welcoming warmth of racks of books and tarot cards, to the stands of bright clothes, the shelves of crystals and pottery.

It’s great that there’s a tenant.” Carly rested her forehead on the glass and shaded her eyes, trying to peer inside. “It’s been a couple of months since Diane moved to the coast. It can’t have been good for your business, having a vacant shop next door.”

Freya snorted. “Better a vacant space than this. Diane’s organic produce shop and mine complemented each other—we got a lot of cross trade. I doubt there’ll be any now.”

You might be surprised.”

Unlikely. But it doesn’t matter. This shop won’t be here long. I’m surprised the council approved the permit.” Freya’s gaze shifted to the window, where the permit was taped to the glass. “Maybe I should check that they actually did.”

Carly huffed a breath. “I think you’ll be wasting your time. There’s no way the owner could get away with it in a town as small as Grasstree Flat.”

Freya shrugged. “Maybe that’s what they’re relying on.”

Honestly, Freya? Drop it. I’m sure it’s fine. Try and give the owner the benefit of the doubt. They’re new in town, it’s a new business. Surely it’s better for you and your shop if they make a success of it.” Amused exasperation tinged Carly’s voice.

In front of the two women, the black-and-silver backdrop twitched, saving Freya from answering. A hand appeared through the gap and placed down some stands, the sort that might support signage or photographs. The hand was tawny, with short, manicured nails. Two silver rings glinted on the fingers.

Carly nudged Freya. “See? A woman owns it.”

I gathered that already.” Freya pointed to the sign that was already nagging in her head, an irritant not to be forgotten, like a mozzie bite on a hot summer day. “I doubt a man would run a store called ‘A Woman’s Pleasure’.”

Not necessarily.”

The hand adjusted the position of the stands. A forearm extended through the curtain, then withdrew.

I’m going to ring the council.”

And say what?” Carly said in a neutral tone. “That you think the new owner is breaking some law you’re not aware of? The window is tasteful, Frey. I quite like it.”

It’s only remotely all right now because it’s mostly empty. You wait, that mannequin will only be the start.” Her fingers twitched with the urge to rant some more, but she controlled it. Deep breaths. A slow inhale, hold that breath, and then let the tension of the moment expel in the whoosh of air through her mouth. She would not let this shop get to her.

On Freya’s third exhale, the curtain dividing the window from the rest of the shop was pulled to one side. The owner of the hand came into view. The lighting behind her was dim, only enough to show a smooth-skinned arm, a full shoulder, and the curve of neck and breast. The woman wore a yellow singlet, and a bird’s wing of smooth dark hair hung down, obscuring her face. In the dimly lit shop, she was bronze and sunshine, her top standing out brightly against her dark skin, a beacon in the shadows.

The woman placed a handful of lingerie in the window. She piled it in a bunch, with no attempt at display. A froth of lace and bright colours mixed with the darker sheen of satin or silk, something smooth and luxurious. She reached behind her and brought out another sign, which she propped on the stand she’d placed earlier: Sensuous Reading for Women.

Dirty books. Porn.” Freya grasped Carly’s arm as a prelude to urging her away, into the safety of her shop.

The woman in the window straightened and saw them looking. She smiled hugely, her grin spontaneous and infectious under high cheekbones. Carly grinned in response, and Freya’s own lips twitched before she schooled her features back to disapproval. The woman gestured to them with a smile that obviously meant “come inside”.

Available from these places:

And from October 4 on the Amazons:,,,

Cheyenne Blue is the author of four romantic lesbian novels with the fifth due out in June 2018. Her most recent release, Party Wall is now available from Ylva Publishing along with her Girl Meets Girl” series of interconnected novels.

She is the editor of Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire and First: Sensual Lesbian Stories of New Beginning. Her short lesbian erotica is collected in three volumes of Blue Woman Stories. She lives in a small house with an enormous deck in a rural area of Queensland, Australia. Check her out at on Facebook or Twitter.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

All the wealth in the world can't buy surrender (#MFRWHooks #BDSM #Historical)

Challenge to Him cover

Happy Wednesday! It’s time for another Book Hooks blog hop. My snippet today comes from my historical romance novella Challenge to Him. Hope you enjoy it! After you’re done, do use the links below to visit some of the other authors sharing their work today!


All the wealth in the world can’t buy willing surrender.

Andrew MacIntyre, heir to a vast empire of railroads, mines and mills, is the second or third richest man in America, and by far the most eligible bachelor among the society folk summering in Newport, Rhode Island. His mother has filled their opulent mansion with marriageable daughters of bankers and industrialists, but Andrew knows none of these callow young women can satisfy his perverse sexual needs. No respectable girl would ever consent to being bound and beaten, to serving and obeying him the way he craves. His money gives him the freedom to purchase anything except his heart’s desire—a submissive partner to share his life.

Independent, progressive and well-educated, labour activist Olivia Alcott has dedicated herself to improving the lot of the workers who toil in the factories that have made Andrew and his class so wealthy. The strike she organises triggers a confrontation between her and the handsome billionaire. Although their disparate backgrounds and values make them natural foes, something stronger draws them to one another—an intuitive recognition of complementary fantasies. Andrew offers Olivia a bargain—better working conditions for the mill staff, in return for a weekend of her unquestioning obedience. Olivia will help him deflect the attentions of the potential mates assembled by his mother, as well as providing more intimate services. Given Olivia’s origins, a more enduring relationship appears impossible—but Andrew is not the sort to give up something he wants.

The Hook

Mademoiselle Olivia!” A skinny girl raced up the street that led to the riverside mill, stirring clouds of dust. “Il vient! He is coming!”

The sputtering racket of an internal combustion engine drowned out the girls excited voice. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for a boxy vehicle of shiny black, with silvery headlamps like extruded eyes. The noisy Studebaker rolled to a stop in front of the strikers, who stopped in their tracks like everyone else to stare at it.

The door creaked open. A tall man unfolded himself from the somewhat cramped interior, snatched off his hat and goggles and tossed them into the vehicle. He strode towards the massed strikers, his fists clenched at his sides.

Where is she? Where’s your damned leader?”

The newspapers generally described Andrew MacIntyre as handsome. The epithet did not do him justice. As he stormed towards her, Olivia was struck with a sense of physical power and keen intelligence. He had wavy red-gold hair, a high forehead, a square chin, a determined mouth. His eyes were hazel, deep set under brows darker than his hair. Those eyes drilled into her, fierce and compelling. The women around her shrank backwards in alarm. Olivia steeled herself, holding her ground and fighting the urge to grovel at his feet. Instead of retreating, she took a step forward, holding out her hand.

Mr Andrew MacIntyre, I presume?” She marveled at the steadiness of her voice, the cool neutral tone.

Damned right. And you are…?”

Olivia Alcott.” She pulled herself up to her full height and forced herself to meet his gaze. She saw anger simmering there, but behind his irritation there was something else, something that intrigued and thrilled her. Something that she might be able to use to further her goals. Olivia Alcott recognised lust when she saw it.

He towered over her by at least a head. Though his body was hidden by his loose touring coat, his decisive, economical movements suggested he was lean and athletic. For a moment he hesitated, staring at her proffered hand. When he finally accepted it, his firm grip confirmed her impression of strength. His palm felt warm and dry against hers. She suddenly wished that she were not so sticky and disheveled. When he released her, a momentary lightness swept through her, as though she might float away.

And can I assume that you are the instigator and cause of this illegal strike, Miss Alcott?” He seemed flustered, less confident than she would have expected. Her spirits rose.

Instigator? Perhaps. But not the cause.”

Buy Links

Totally Bound:



Add on Goodreads:

Visit the other authors doing MFRW Book Hooks this week!

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Review Tuesday: Golden Shana by A P von K'Ory (#bdsm #billionaire #romance)

Golden Shana cover

Golden Shana: The Chase by A P von K’Ory
AuthorMeProfessionals Press, 2015

With his impeccable style, muscular physique, chiseled features and hypnotic blue eyes, Roman Alastair Northcott Broughton Castell is drop-dead gorgeous. He’s also the billionaire CEO of a worldwide logistics company, built from the ground up through his intelligence and hard work. With charm, guile, expensive gifts and judiciously bestowed carnal pleasure, Roman believes he can conquer any woman, but he’s determined not to commit to anyone. When a female takes his fancy, he pursues her relentlessly. Once she’s fallen into his net, he requires her to sign a contract acknowledging the no-strings nature of their relationship. According to his standard agreement, either one can terminate the connection at any time. Somehow it’s always Roman who grows bored and seeks out a new diversion.

Then one night at the La Scala opera house in Milan, everything changes. As Roman escorts his lovely, curvaceous current lady Marie to a performance of “Turandot”, he catches sight of a honey-haired goddess of a woman who strikes him dumb with desire and need. His charm deserts him; he’s hopelessly befuddled by the stranger’s elegant poise. As she drives away in her limo with her friends, however, he vows he will win her, no matter what the price.

You probably think you know this story, yet another installment in the endless series of billionaire romances that litter the pages of Amazon. If that’s what’s going through your mind, though, you’re wrong. Aside from its classic, overwhelmingly alpha hero, Golden Shana: The Chase is refreshingly original. The relationships are far more tangled than in the typical romance, and the story much less predictable.

Shana, the mysterious stranger, might well be more alpha than Roman. Raped by her boyfriend when she was a teen, she has no interest in sexual relations with men, though she acts the dominant role in her lesbian love affair with close childhood friend Alyssa. She puts Roman in his place, making it clear that she will not necessarily surrender to him just because that is what he demands.

Discarded by Roman as he sets off to pursue Shana, Marie serenely believes that her love for him, plus his baby which she’s carrying, will ultimately bring him back to her.

Meanwhile, the rapist, despite being tortured and left for dead by Shana’s family, has somehow survived. Having constructed a new identity, the Phoenix (as he calls himself) is obsessed with reclaiming His Girl.

The book is set in Europe – Hamburg, Geneva, Montreux, Milan – and the author obviously knows these places well. All the characters are wealthy, so they spend their time in elegant restaurants, exclusive spas, glittering shops and upscale malls, in galleries and at the opera. Nevertheless, this glamorous world struck me as far more believable than the settings in most books in the billionaire genre. For one thing, the rich characters actually work for a living, to maintain and enhance their status. For another, there are gradations of wealth. Roman’s security major domo Robert is rich in his own right, though far less well off than Roman. Meanwhile the resources of Shana’s extended family dwarf Roman’s own, and he feels correspondingly chastened.

As alpha as he is, Roman is no cardboard cutout Dom. He’s self-centered, but generous and mostly honest. He doesn’t promise what he can’t or won’t give. He deeply loves his mother, detests his half-siblings, respects the competent minions with whom he has surrounded himself. He can be cruel, but that’s not his fundamental nature. He is, despite his usual self-confidence, only twenty nine, and sometimes he acts his age.

Unlike most romance, this book really focuses on the male protagonist, not the female. The book might, somewhat facetiously, be titled “The Dom’s Come-uppance”. The author convincingly portrays Roman’s confusion and attempts to adapt when the sudden cataclysm of love at first sight shatters his world and calls all his assumptions into question.

From one chapter to the next, the novel adopts the point of view of various characters, but only Roman’s chapters are presented in the first person. As he struggles to understand and accept his love for Shana, and plots what to do about it, one almost feels sympathy.

Almost. I know every author loves her own characters, but I couldn’t bring myself to really like Roman. He’s just too arrogant and selfish for me. In particular, I fumed at the way he treats Marie after she reveals that she’s pregnant. If I were she, I would have thrown his contracts in his face and gotten a restraining order. I couldn’t believe she’d accede to his demeaning demands.

Likewise, I found Alyssa’s infatuation with the billionaire inexplicable, given the way he manipulates and uses her.

But that’s not a criticism of the novel itself. Despite my frustration with Roman, I continued to read, eager to discover what would happen next. The book has a hopeful ending (from Roman’s perspective) but is by no means HEA. Meanwhile, threats lie in wait (particularly in the person of the Phoenix), threats that Roman will clearly have to confront.

Golden Shana: The Chase is competently written, but it bears the hallmarks of a relatively inexperienced author – an excess of passion, with occasional lapses of craft. It seems that unlike me, A P von K’Ory really does love Roman.

The structure is uneven, with characters disappearing for many chapters, then suddenly popping up again. The first half of the book includes some intensely arousing sex scenes. I realized to my surprise that the second half of the book contains almost no sex at all. I say surprised because I didn’t miss it. I was too involved in the story.

Given my fascination with BDSM relationships, that’s a compliment.

In fact, I’m tempted to get a copy of the second half of the story (Golden Shana: The Capture), just to see how things play out.

Monday, September 18, 2017

No more Mr. Nice Guy! (#pnr #BBW #erotic @TinaDonahue)

Freeing the Beast cover

Available for preorder now! Releases October 17.


Book one in the Taming the Beast series

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

For Becca Salt being a witch isn’t all magic. Too curvy and lonely, she spends her nights running a makeover service for demons, vamps, weres and zombies who want to project a more human, normal side. Their goal? To get the babes without the authorities hunting them down like rabid dogs. Once Becca suppresses the worst of their beast, they’re on the hunt and gone.

Dating has been a definite bitch for Eric Diletto. Although he’s hot and hung, he’s also one of Cupid’s descendants—a god born to believe in courtship, courtesy and all that other junk. Tired of women dumping him for the bad boys, Eric hires Becca to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. With Eric’s newfound dominance, he’s definitely the man. And the god, who intends to take Becca here, there and everywhere. Who said sorcery and love wasn’t fun?

WarningA witchdoctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy.


She fingered her top. “What are you?” He wasn’t a demon or a vamp. However, a were or other shifter wasn’t implausible. “Exactly what?”

I’m Eric. Di-let-to.”

He’d pronounced his last name ultra slow, as though that should mean something to her.

It wasn’t ringing a bell. “Okay.”

No, it’s not. I haven’t always gone by Eric. I changed my first name when I was twelve. Got tired of having to fight the other kids, you know?”

Becca did. She’d had her own scuffles when anyone had dared call her fat. Compassion and tenderness for him mingled with her building lust. “Tell me your real first name. Please.”

He sagged to the sofa. “You’ll laugh.”

Never.” She hurried around her desk.

He leaned away from her.

Becca stopped. No way did she want him to feel more unglued than he already was or to make a fool of herself by being too forward. “I don’t make fun. I don’t bully. I had enough of that when I was a child to know how much it hurts.”

He nodded sympathetically. “The other kids made fun of your hair, huh?”

No.” She curled her upper lip. “There’s something wrong with my hair?”
He held up his hands in appeasement. “Not at all. I really like the color and the way you wear it.” He gestured to his own head to demonstrate her bob and bangs. “It’s great.”

Sure, and Santa Claus is a card-carrying Communist. “The other kids made fun of my weight.” There, she’d said it. Little need to pretend there wasn’t a four-ton elephant in the room.

Really?” He took her in, loitering on her ample cleavage and curvy hips. “I don’t see how. You’re perfect. Most women today are too skinny.”

Honesty shone on his face.

Becca liked that and what he’d said. “What’s your real first name?”

He lay on the sofa, arm draped over his eyes. He looked like a patient unwilling to confess his innermost thoughts to a shrink.

Come on.” She used her gentlest tone. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what the problem is. It can’t be that bad.”

Wanna bet? My real first name is Eros.”

About Tina

Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels were Readers' Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

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