Thursday, August 17, 2017



Okay maybe not EVERYBODY get's a book, but how would YOU like to win 9 FREE BOOKS?!

Romance Writers Behaving Badly is hosting it's first event, the COVER REVEAL for Craving Stassi - A Fantasies Unmasked Novel - Book 2!


Saturday, August 19th, 4pm - 8:30pm, EST.

How can YOU win 9 FREE BOOKS?!?!
Go to the event (on the main page), and when Erica Lynn is up (8pm - 8:30pm EST), she'll ask how you heard about the event. Simply comment that YOU heard about the event from the RWBB Blog! That's it! You'll automatically be entered into the grand prize drawing to win a free book from:

Whitley Cox
Kay Blake
Bre Meli
Serena Simpson
Jeanne St. James
Cailin Briste
Roxanne D. Howard
Christa Paige
Erica Lynn

Easy peasy, lemon squeezie, right?

Can't wait to see you there!

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

I'd rob the cradle for Duncan in a heartbeat. These nights are hot! Don't miss Bohemia Nights by my good friend, Lucy Lakestone


Thea McKay likes her quiet, private life well enough. She creates pop-up paper art that no one ever sees, hangs out with her friends and admires men from afar. But then, at a play premiere, she meets gregarious video blogger Duncan Flyte. An incorrigible charmer with dubious motives, he’s handsome, hilarious and overwhelming. When he says he won’t stop showcasing her to his legions of fans unless she agrees to spend seven nights with him, her world turns upside down. The offer is both outrageous and tempting. Those seven nights don’t have to be passionate, but what if Thea wants them to be? Can she raise the stakes with this adorable Scottish import — especially when Duncan’s cheerful campaign to woo her may be just one more spectacular lie that will break her heart?

This is the fifth novel in the award-winning Bohemia Beach series, each a steamy standalone romance set among a circle of young artists in the enchanting Florida city they call home.



“Do you have a headache, love?”
Damn it. I opened my eyes. He was still there, now standing in front of me. Beams from evening’s golden hour poured through the windows and cast him in the kind of glow a Hollywood lighting director only dreams of.
“I’m fine,” I ground out, trying to ignore his beauty. “What was that all about?”
“They came over with pizza, and I thought you might like some, since we had a date anyway.”
“Not a date.”
“Oh, Thea.” He sat on the couch next to me, almost rocking the furniture. Somehow he seemed even bigger sitting down, his body large and warm next to mine. “Look, I can tell you’re annoyed. They’re my peeps. Like a third arm. I didn’t think you’d mind. Please forgive me. Can we start over?”
“Start what over? The torture session?” I found one of the few remaining beers and opened it, dropping the cap on the coffee table. I took a sip and glanced up at him. To my surprise, he looked hurt. Genuinely hurt.
“I’m not that bad, am I?” he asked.
“Well, I — ”
He leaned closer. “You’re gorgeous tonight. Your hair, it’s like a sunrise. And the rest of you . . . ” His gaze unabashedly slid over my body and back to my eyes.
My mouth dropped open in stunned silence, whether at his brazenness or the compliments, I wasn’t sure.
He closed it with his lips.
One moment I was staring at him as he leaned close to me, and the next, he’d captured my mouth with his.
And it was like fireworks going off. Lightning, thunder shaking me to my toes, a storm under my skin. And he was only tasting me, sipping my lips as one arm slid up and around my shoulder to cradle my neck. With his other hand, he smoothly took my beer bottle and set it on the table, never losing contact with me.
He tilted his head to take more of my mouth, and I melted like a puddle of butter. I should have pushed him away, but I moaned instead, and he answered me with an “Mmmm” tinged with amusement. He deepened his kiss. His tongue touched mine, teasing, and his mouth opened, hungry, devouring me. His free hand slid to my knee, squeezing, caressing. He drew his lips over my jawline, my neck, sucking and tonguing my electrified skin as I leaned against the back of the couch, feeling his big, hard body bending into mine.
Stop this! I told myself.
But I didn’t want to. But I had to. Oh, my God, Duncan Flyte is kissing the hell out of me. It was a disaster in the making. But it was so delicious.
His hand moving up my thigh brought me to my senses. Too much, too fast.
I sat up, interrupting his kiss. Not that I wanted to. Damn it.
“Thea,” he whispered, moving in to kiss me again.
I held up a hand in front of his face. He pressed his lips lightly against my fingers.
I couldn’t help a tiny sound, somewhere between a whimper and a groan. He smiled.
“Let me,” he whispered.
“Just wait. I need to think.”
“Don’t think.” He grasped my wrist, freezing the hand I’d put up to stop him, and sucked on the tip of my index finger, slowly, his eyes closed, turning it into an erogenous zone I didn’t know I had. Heat blossomed between my legs, in places that hadn’t been touched by a man in two years, as his other hand slid around my waist, slipping up under my shirt, caressing the warm skin of my back. I arched into his touch, and his mouth moved to the next finger, and the next, each digit a gateway drug to the high I wanted most of all: Duncan Flyte.

Check out the trailer here:

Lucy Lakestone lives on Florida’s east central coast, among the towns that serve as an inspiration for the hot romances of her award-winning Bohemia Beach Series. In addition to writing novels, she’s been a journalist, photographer, editor and video producer. She loves lightning and can’t resist a road trip. She is also the author of a novel of romantic suspense, DESIRE ON DEADLINE. You can learn more about the author, connect with her on social media and sign up for her newsletter (and get a free story) at

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Rand: Son of Tallav - Tenderhearted Sadist - Cailin's Tuesday Tease

This month, I'm teasing from my work-in-progress, Rand: Son of Tallav
He's the sexual sadist who owns the Whip Hand on Beta Tau. He's become involved with a woman who has surpassed his expectations. Here are her reflections on a night spent under his "care." The nipple clamps were only the beginning, but every moment of their encounter is memorable.

"When he’d attached clamps to her nipples, every movement had brought searing pain, yet she’d longed for him to tap the dangling jewels again. His eyes had darkened and the bulge in his slacks had grown harder against her bottom when he’d stood behind her, his gaze reflected in the mirror as he watched her reaction to the clamps. For the first time in her life, she had fulfilled the erotic fantasies of a man like Randolph Meryon. Somewhere hidden inside her was this wanton who wanted a man to do nasty dirty things to her. Was it perverse to desire that he hurt her. If it was, she was lost. She didn’t care how he went about it as long as he accepted the offering of her body to be used as he willed."

Rand: Son of Tallav is the third book in the Sons of Tallav series. 

Shane: Marshal of Tallav

Shane Tiernan, the Beast of Tallavan aristocratic society, needs relief from the matriarchal rules that are destroying his life. His hope lies in a female submissive, newly graduated from a top sex school. From her resume, she seems perfect. Profile and real life collide when he arrives to collect her. He’s stunned when he spots her vaulting over a bar and snatching up an ice chipper to defend herself against the giant who is chasing her. Her combination of warrior spirit and long-limbed curves fires his Dom imagination and the desire to bind her in his rope and have her under his complete control.

Adrianna Pacquin is sexually submissive, but don’t cross her outside the bedroom. She’s escaped the crime lord who plans to marry her once before. When it becomes clear he’s still after her, she doesn’t intend to get caught. A fortuitous decision to accept the contract of Tallavan Marshal Shane Tiernan promises safety until an attempt to murder him sets the pair on an investigation that will require complete trust in one another. With danger stalking their every step, the secrets they both hide could implode their blooming relationship and leave them exposed to their relentless foe.

Buy Here: 
Loose Id
Online Retailers http://books2read/shane/
Add to Goodreads

Maon: Marshal of Tallav

Maon Keefe has always been told he’s doomed to fail as a husband. He decides never to marry instead focusing on living life as a player and becoming a capable marshal of Tallav. When he is shot and the most-wanted criminal he’s escorting escapes, he fears that his career, his one success in life, is doomed. Assigned to ferret out the cause of missing shipments for a VIP aristocrat, he meets Selina Shirley CEO of the House of Shirley. He finds himself inexplicably attracted to her despite her frumpy appearance. When he meets a hooded and masked, scorching hot Domme, Lasair, at his friend’s BDSM club, he’s torn between the two women. Both fire his imagination and call to his submissive nature. Either might be the woman to change him into successful husband material.

Selina Shirley organizes her life like she organizes her business, taking control of all aspects of each. She’s concluded that she must marry to get an heir and that her future husband must be totally submissive. Mentored by the sector’s most famous sadist, she learns what it takes to be a proper Domme. Then, hidden behind a hood and mask, as Lasair, she meets Maon and her instant attraction to his full submission at the BDSM club leads her to break her own rules and become involved with him. But he’s also the marshal assigned to investigate thefts at her company. When his broad streak of protective alpha male comes into play, it obvious he’s not a 24/7 submissive. To stick to her plan to marry the perfect husband, she must ignore her heart and dump Maon.

Buy Here:
Loose Id
Online Retailers

Educated by the Master

Available for pre-order in September, Educated by the Master, a prequel to Master Trey's story, book #4 in the Sons of Tallav series. This novella is part of the SFR Shooting Stars anthology Cosmic Cabaret.

Educated by the Master from Cosmic Cabaret
She’s new to kink. He’s a BDSM Master with eighteen days to educate her.
Trey Johannsen’s preference is to stick to managing a private BDSM club on Beta Tau. It’s dark. It's sexy. The cries of pleasure, the thud of a flogger, and the mingled scents of arousal and fear are evidence he’s damn good at it.
So, when his boss insists Trey’s perfect for assisting a new hire to develop a BDSM cabaret, Trey is nonplussed. How the hell do you make burlesque accurate? Then he meets her, and instant attraction has him imagining peeling her clothes off, tying her to a bed, and sexually dominating her until she can take no more.
When Patsy O’Shaughnessy first lays eyes on BDSM master Trey Johannsen everything about him impresses her. Providing him a personal tour of the on stage and behind-the-scenes workings of the Cosmic Love Cabaret isn’t a problem. Withstanding the sheer sexiness of the ultra-masculine hunk while he educates her about BDSM? That’s going to take some doing.

Not that she plans to suggest hands-on training. No, the move from stage manager at the Cosmic Love Cabaret to creative director for a new venue is something she can’t blow. But if Trey Johannsen thinks experience is the best teacher, who is she to disagree?

Social Media Links:

Street Team
Bookbub Author Page
Amazon Author Page

Monday, August 14, 2017

My thoughts on love and diversity in the romance genre

My country is on fire right now with hate and violence. But even though I can't stop seeing it, reeling from it, I don't want to talk about that.

I want to talk about community. About romance. About love.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the national conference for Romance Writers of America, down in Orlando (overwhelming and awesome and humid and full of good wine and people). Hands down, the highlight of the conference was Beverly Jenkins ending her Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award acceptance speech with,

“So now, here I stand, Beverly Elaine Hunter Jenkins, First of Her Name, Descendant of Slaves, Daughter of Dolores, Slayer of Words.”

Man, you should’ve been there. The whole room was flooded with emotion. With love. With pride (for her). With shame (for history). With hope (for the future).

I wish I could have bottled the flood in that room and used the force of it yesterday to drown the shouting in Charlottesville.

But then I realized that somebody's already done that, sort of. Diverse writers have bottled experience and pain, have packaged it in story and character, and used art to convey an entire education. It's all right there.

Love over hate. Every time.

If romance is the genre of hope, then maybe it's what this world needs most right now. What if -- what if -- we all went out and bought a romance featuring characters who are outside of our experience, and we went on a journey with them? And what if we found something beautiful at the end of it?

I think that could heal. Maybe?

So, I'm doing a little shopping over the next few weeks. I'll get Beverly Jenkins's latest. And Sasha Devlin's. And K. M. Jackson's. And Farrah Rochon's. And Alexis Hall's. And Synithia Williams's. And Alyssa Cole's. And Suleikha Snyder's.

And I will listen.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Xcerpt: NEEDING HIM (An Obsessed Novella) by Jeanne St. James

NEEDING HIM (An Obsessed Novella)
by Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, BDSM

Available NOW for only 99¢ at all major retailers here:

Add to your TBR pile on GoodReads here

This is not just a love story, it's an obsession...


The same week every year he comes to my little resort in Maine for five days, then disappears. His darkness, his demons, intrigue me and I need to know his story.
I hope he shows up again this year, because I’m determined to talk to him, make him see me and not look through me like I don’t exist. Make him realize I’m not just some anonymous person who hands him a key.
No, this year will be different.
I haven’t gotten laid in a long time. So, tag, he’s it.


For the past three years, I’ve come up to this remote area to forget, to bury my grief. But this year, I don’t need a trip to this run-down resort, this little cabin on the lake, to survive this week. However, there’s one thing I’ve left behind each year when I head back to reality…
I’ve found the right woman who’ll fill the emptiness deep inside of me, the hole that’s lurked there for years. I can’t get her out of my head. Funny thing is, I don’t even know her name. I never asked.
This year that’s going to change. And I hope she’s willing because I’m taking complete control.

Note: All books in the Obsessed series are standalone novellas. They are intended for audiences over 18 years of age since they include explicit sexual situations, including BDSM.


“Do you like me touching you?” I ask, pressing my lips against the silky skin along her neck.
“Yes,” she says so softly I barely hear her.
My thumbs brush over the hard peaks, back and forth, until I hear a noise escape her lips. I roll each nipple between my thumb and forefinger, plucking and twisting until my cock flexes as she releases another sound. A whimper? Maybe.
The tip of my tongue finds the top of her spine where I sink my teeth gently into her flesh. Her back bows as she presses her neck toward my mouth and her breasts deeper into my hands.
“Exquisite,” I tell her. Because that’s what her reactions are. When I release her breasts, I let my hands slide down her belly to the top of her panties. I tuck my thumbs under the elastic and slide her red underwear down, down, down, until they are partway down her thighs. I release them and slide my hands back up to cup her mound.
She’s hot, damp, responsive, as I slip a finger between her folds, testing her wetness.
Yes. She’s slick, welcoming, her thighs part ever so slightly. Enough to give me room for a second finger.
I shift until my cock nudges the cleft of her ass and I feel her push back against me, encouraging.
She doesn’t realize it won’t be that easy. Nothing today will be easy.
She moans as I thumb her clit and work two fingers in and out of her.
“Ah, that’s it. You want to come, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she hisses, her head pressing back into my collar bone, her back arched.
“You can’t come unless I say you can.”
“Don’t speak unless I ask you a question, or I tell you that you can speak freely.”
She releases a loud breath, her body tensing slightly.
“While you’re in this cabin, you’ll be naked. While in this cabin, you will not come unless I tell you to. There’s only one word you can say without permission. That’s your safe word. Let’s establish that now.”
She nods and once again I am deeply pleased. I press my lips against her ear. “I’ll give you a word and if at any time I do something that is too much, that you aren’t comfortable with, or you just want me to stop, you simply say that word. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
“That word is pineapple. Remember that word, Grace. It’s important.”
I slip a third finger inside her, but only for a moment. When I draw them out, they’re slick with her arousal.
“So wet, baby,” I murmur, my dick now painfully hard. I need a release as much as she does. I drag my fingers across her lips, then dip them into her mouth. “Taste yourself.”
She groans, as do I, while she sucks my fingers clean, her tongue playing along my digits. I can’t wait to bury my face between her thighs and taste her myself. But instead, I release her and back up a step.
“Remove your panties. Do it slowly.”
She hooks her fingers in the panties that are now almost to her knees and slowly bends over taking them all the way to her ankles.
“Stop there. Grab your ankles.”
With her panties and her fingers wrapped around her ankles, she’s bent over in front of me, showing me all her glory. Her pussy is pink and slick, her ass soft and round. And I finally must touch myself.
I grab my cock and squeeze hard before stroking its length from root to tip. “Pretty, baby. So pretty. You’re already ready for me.”
She says nothing, and it thrills me she’s following my rules. So far, she’s the perfect playmate.
Her pussy isn’t the only thing I plan to own.
 “Your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass. They’re no longer yours. While in this cabin, they’re all mine. Whose are they, Grace? You may answer.”
“What’s my name?”
“Who do you belong to, Grace?”
“You, Nick.”

About the author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a bestselling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here:

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at or sign up for her newsletter: