Saturday, November 18, 2017

Please welcome, Ember Leigh, she's breaking all the rules!

Travis could lose his best friend if he so much as blinks at Amara. Amara thought that with Travis it would be one-and-done. But neither can fight what’s growing between them…even if it goes against every rule in the book.

Dirty Excerpt

Their workout progressed, fun and flirty, each one finding new and creative ways to bend the rules. When the last person cleared out of the weight room, he offered Amara a hand to sit up.
“I’m gonna go tell Jenni she can go home,” he said as she popped to standing. “Hang out in the locker room. When everyone’s gone, I’ll join you.”
She lifted a brow. “On the women’s side?”
“I’m a rebel.”
“You’re the owner. You do what you want.” She winked, shoving playfully at his shoulder. “I’ll see you in there.”
He watched her saunter away, fascinated by her sexy, stocky build. She was petite yet strong, a 5’5” powerhouse with thighs that could bring him to his knees. Most guys were all about the tits or ass—and for him, well, it was about every part. And Amara knocked every part out of the park.
He let Jenni go about fifteen minutes earlier than normal. Waiting at the front desk, he watched the clients file out for the evening, nodding their way or shouting a gruff, “Peace.” When the last patron hurried by, Travis deadbolted the front doors and booked it to the men’s locker room to double-check it was empty. And then he went to his office to grab the last implement for the evening: a condom.
Whistling, he headed for the women’s locker room. He pushed open the door and peered inside hesitantly, heart racing. He’d been waiting for this chance for too damn long. And though his nerves rattled, part of him worried he’d eat her alive, like a starving wolf.
Because as far as he was concerned, Amara was nourishing. And he hadn’t had that for a long, long time.
Amara faced away from him, standing in front of a row of lockers. Her ass cheeks, round and shiny in the bright locker-room lights, hung out of a lacy pink thong. His breath evaporated. The creaking of the door made her turn around.
“There you are.” Her voice came out a pretty purr, her head lowering. “I needed your help.”
He cleared his throat, trying to jumpstart his mind again. “Well, thank God I showed up.” He paused, listening for noise. “Are we alone?”
She nodded. “Last lady left about ten minutes ago. Now take your clothes off.”
He lifted a brow, pleased by the directive. “Yes, ma’am.” He tugged his shirt off, tossed it aside, and then shimmied out of his black mesh shorts. His cock pressed against black boxer briefs, almost fully hard from the sight of her. She bit her lip, gaze careening up and down his body, her long black tresses freed from the bun.
“Now sit down.” She pointed to the wide bench behind her.
He obeyed eagerly, watching with wide eyes as she positioned herself out of arm’s reach.
“I started to change into my work clothes,” she explained. Her heavy breasts peeked out of a black satin bra. “But then I realized we should probably take a shower here. Will you help me take my bra off?”
He cracked a grin. A likely story. But this was like dessert, better than a thousand cheat days combined. “Babe, like you even need to ask.”
Travis reached for her, snagging her at the waist. She giggled as he pulled her into him, pressing his lips to her lower belly, taking a bite of the soft flesh there. Her fingers found his hair, running over his scalp and down the back of his neck, digging into the ridge of his shoulders.
“I love these,” he murmured, snagging his fingers on the thin waistband of her panties. “Did you wear these just for me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her palms traced the width of his shoulders, over the curves of his biceps. “I’ve been waiting to show you.”
His kisses drifted over her low belly toward her hip. He grabbed big handfuls of her ass, sucking at his teeth. His cock strained at the fabric of his briefs. He nuzzled the crotch of her panties, desperate for the smell of her.
“Travis.” Her voice came out breathy, barely there.
“Hmm?” He kissed her mons over the panties, exhaling as he lowered his mouth, nipping where her clit was. She shuddered, eyes drifting shut. He dragged his tongue over the cleft of her pussy; the grip on his shoulders tightened.
“Take your bra off.” He nuzzled her pussy again, growling into the sweet heat there, desperate to rip the thong in half and devour her, get drunk on her scent and sweetness. He kissed his way up to her lower belly again.
She watched him with hooded eyes, lips pursed. “You’re too much.” She turned, moving her hair over her shoulder, looking back at him. “Can you get it?”
He grabbed at her hips, yanking her closer. He took a bite of her hip, and then moved his fervent kisses over her ass cheeks. “Fuck, Amara.” He bit at the tiny strip of pink fabric, pulling at it with his teeth.
“Easy, tiger. Don’t eat my panties.”
“I won’t. I’ll eat what’s under them.”
She swayed, and he caught her. “Seriously, when you talk like that I almost pass out.”
He laughed, smoothing his lips over her right hip. “When I look at this ass I almost pass out. Damn, girl.”
She wiggled it in front of his face. “You like that?”
“Mmm.” He smoothed his hands over her ass cheeks, along the crests of her thighs. “More than I can fucking explain.”
“Maybe this will help.” She sat on his lap, looking back at him with pure mischief on her face, settling into place over his cock.
“Definitely.” He moaned, grabbing at her hips, rocking beneath her. His breath came out short, heated. He was seconds away from losing his shit.
She rocked on top of him, gyrating her hips in a way that told him she’d know exactly how to ride him, exactly how he liked it. Oh fuck. He steadied her, drawing deep breaths.
“Babe.” He brushed his lips over her bare shoulder, hands snaking around her waist, over her belly, up to the lush roundness of her breasts. “Go easy on me.”
“I should say the same to you.”
He unhooked her bra, letting the straps fall over her shoulders and down her arms, admiring the view of her from behind, dark locks over one shoulder, the curve of an expectant smile, her brown shoulder arcing from neck to bicep. He tossed the bra aside, cupping her breasts in his hands. She moaned, tensing beneath him.
“Mmm.” He tweaked each nipple, then let a hand drift down between her legs. He slipped his fingers over the fabric covering the cleft of her pussy, inhaling sharply when he found her soaked. He rubbed his fingers back and forth over her clit lightly, drawing circles around it like it were a treasure map.
Her breath hitched, and she clutched at the arm holding her breast. “Oh, Travis.”
“Yeah?” He grazed his thumb over the tight nub, letting his other fingers drift down to the sopping panties, dancing over her entrance. “I wanna get in here.”
She whimpered, and he took it as his blessing; he dipped in two fingers, probing the slippery folds, finding the tight, needy clit and pinching it, caressing it, breathing hot into her shoulder as he worked her. She tensed and moaned low, hooking her feet around his ankles. He sneaked a finger into her pussy, plunging deep, as far as he could go, nearly losing his mind when he felt how hot and tight she was inside, nearly coming from just the idea of pushing himself inside her.
Her grip on his forearm tightened as he returned to her clit. Tweaking her nipple with his other hand, he played her like a fine instrument, lavishing attention on her clit, soft and then pulling back, tweaking each nipple in turn, biting at her shoulder when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore.
Her breath hitched again, and she cried out. “Oh, Travis! Travis…oh…oh my God!”
He worked her harder, pumping his fingers in and out of her pussy as she came undone on top of him, a whimper turning into a moan. She tensed and groaned, falling against him, laughing softly.
He kissed her neck, nuzzling against the side of her face. “Now that was fucking hot.”
She acquiesced into his arms, and he hugged her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“Hot doesn’t even cover it.” She gripped at his forearm, eyes drifting shut.
“Hope you’re ready for round two.” He grinned like the devil when her eyes met his.

Author Bio
Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck. In addition to romance novels, Ember also writes travel memoirs and occasionally updates a couple of blogs. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, hops around the world, and eats lots of vegetables.

Amazon Author Page:

Friday, November 17, 2017


Ari: Book One
Series: Between Heaven and Hell

Meet Nova

“Aren’t you in the wrong part of town?” The buildings here were close together. No one except the foolish went down the alleys, except the rats. They seemed to enjoy it.
“Are you talking to me?”
Why was this kid here in her area to patrol? The last thing she needed was some pubescent human thinking she knew everything. It was obvious that she was defying mommy and daddy. She was about to pay for that.
“I’m talking to you.”
“I’m with my new friends were going to a party.”
“Did they happen to mention that you were the party?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I guess you got a thing for demons.”
The girl looked her up and down as if she were a bug on the ground before she broke down laughing. Well, that answered that question. She wasn’t already turned out she was simply stupid.
“I bet your mom and dad raised you to stay away from this part of the city. They told you evil lived here. Then you got older and decided you knew better than them.”
The girl looked at the boy on either side of her. They looked about her age, young and ready for some fun.
“Those boys,” she sneered the word. “Are more than fifty thousand years a piece.”
Nova checked her nails before looking back at the girl. “Who will it be? The party where they plan to rape you until your addicted or me?”
“The party.” Her voice stuttered in fear.
Someone, please save me from dumb humans. This is where she got off. The girl wanted to be raped, she’d let it happen. She was a slayer after all.
“What’s a slayer?”
Had she said that aloud?
“I kill demons. It’s what they pay me to do.”
“Demons are real?” She was trying to put some space between her and the boys when one of them grabbed her wrist.
“You got one on either side of you.”
“I want to go home.”
“You’re ours.”
Now she was struggling and screaming.
“Boys you have two choices. Run or go back to hell.” Nova pulled her sword and waited. It really was impolite to send them to hell when they hadn’t done anything.
“I haven’t killed a slayer in a long time.” The one demon dropped his façade and put on another of a male in the prime of his life.
The girl was sobbing now. She should have listened to her parents. They should have told her the truth.
The cocky one got too close, and she took off his head.
“My name’s Nova.” She told the other one, “have you met me?” Strange he chose to run than to stay and fight. Now to get the human home.

Meet Ari

“Marcus would like an audience with you.”
Ari lifted his head. He was sitting in a demon club. Not the nicest place to be, but it did remind him of once upon a time.
His violet eyes took in the two demons before him cutting them down to size. They backed up and he smiled. His teeth may have been slightly pointed or not, it depended on who you talked to.
“They always say the devil is in the details.”
One of the demons snarled at him. He lifted an eyebrow and allowed his eyes to wander back over the demon on the stage providing entertainment. The female who was encountering his wrath might not feel the same way as the crowd watching.
“Tell Marcus to go to hell, pun intended. I’m not interested.”
“You won’t get a better deal than the one he’s offering.”
Marcus was the self-appointed king of hell. Not that Ari cared. Any confrontation with him would lead to his death but Ari didn’t care enough to kill the male. He should be thankful and move on while he still breathed.
“I said no.”
“You don’t get a choice.”
Ari made a subtly move and called green fire. “You were saying?”
The demons moved back their eyes wide as they took in a scent they hadn’t smelling in thousands of years.
“No one tells Marcus no.”
“Then let me be the first.” Ari turned away to watch the female claw at the stage as she yelled for help.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Books and Main

Hello everybody.
Have you heard of Books + Main?
They have these cool things called bites. Bites are where authors share tidbits of their books with a sexy graphic for you--the reader---to get a taste of what the author has to offer.

I thought I would share a little tidbit bite like what would be available on Books + Main.

This bite is from Mated in Treason, Book 1 of the Kan Asma Vampire series.

And here is the delicious bite.

Her first kiss. And, it was Gunnar.
Just like she’d dreamed and fantasized about for the last few days.
Hot, passionate and stirring, low in her belly, his kisses woke the female within her. It was wanton, needy, and clawed for more. The tip of his tongue brushed her teeth, the sensitive flesh along her lips and teased the space between. He explored and she met him there, eager to feel the warmth of his kiss deepen as their tongues dueled, lips pressed, bodies aligned together. It was too much.
It was perfect.
Rough fingers brushed her sides, along her ribs and it didn’t tickle or scratch her skin. The touch provoked her, coaxing her need with gentle caresses. A moan tangled in her throat and he captured it in his kiss, swallowed it back and an echo of his desire rumbled in his chest.
“Nadia,” he whispered against her mouth. “So sweet and hot.” His strong fingers pressed into the small of her back and held her firmly in place. He rocked up on his toes and brushed the solid length of his body flush to hers.
“Why can’t you be mine?”
She heard his anguish, the same pain in his voice reverberated inside her heart. It’d only been a few days since they’d met but something inside her knew Gunnar was hers. Maybe biology? Or emotions. Either way, she hated not being allowed to follow her heart.
She covered his mouth with her fingers. “Don’t, please. Just pretend, for now.”
He nodded, but fire sparked in his eyes. It was alive, elemental, and the torment of their situation pierced her straight to her soul. She grabbed his shirt, fisted the material like it was her lifeline, her connection to him.
The heavy metal of his fixator came into view as he trailed a finger down the side of her face to her chin. Pressure directed her head back and exposed her throat further. Warm breath feathered across her pulse points, and little kisses followed. Her grip on his shirt tightened. Against her ribs, her heart beat hard and fast. Intense. Yes, take from me, she commanded in her thoughts, but didn’t allow him to share that desperate plea.
“I want to taste you, kjaere. Just a sip.” His growled whisper overset her and she pushed up on her toes in an unspoken acquiescence.
His cheek brushed across her collarbone and the weight of his head settled on her shoulder. Ragged breaths wrenched from his chest. “I can’t. I won’t be able to stop.”
“Gunnar,” she muttered his name and licked her suddenly dry lips. “Only a little. Please. I want to feel your fangs on my skin. I want the bite. Yours.”
“I’m losing control.” He trembled, the muscles in his back tense as steel. She pressed him closer, a silent nudge. The tip of one sharp canine scraped fleetingly in a crude arc. The sting lasted only a second before his hot mouth covered the tiny wound and sucked. A moan shuddered inside her.
Gunnar shifted and pushed harder against her, pinning her to the cabinet and holding her still. “Ah, Nadia. You’re like nothing I’ve ever tasted. It’s paradise. You’re my paradise.”
Desperate for every possible sip, he sucked at her skin, rasping with his tongue. The miniscule amount he’d taken would hardly bond them but the intimacy was there anyway.
“God, I want you at my throat, taking from my vein,” he muttered, and his breath feathered along her pulse points. An elicit image popped into her mind so dark and erotic. She imagined tasting him, drawing his essence into her mouth and inundating herself with him.
Strong yet restless fingers tripped down her arm to her hip. His thumb trailed the edge of her waistband, stroking and raising her need with each teasing swipe.
“Let me touch you, Nadia.”

If you are on Books + Main, come and follow me: @ChristaPaige 
If you'd like to see more about Mated in Treason... .
"Completely UNPUTDOWNABLE. I inhaled this book within a day of opening the first page. "-Emerald Book Reviews “
A vampire romance with bite and passionate heat...It is a romance tale as old as time with a modern and sexy paranormal twist.” Totally Booked.
Readers are saying: "I laughed and cried and it makes you think." 
"With heart pounding action, HOT love scenes, and an enduring love story, you’ll be BEGGING FOR MORE.”
Available everywhere

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Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Please welcome Ursula Sinclair, author of the Martini Lounge Series. A woman about to take her vows to God and a male stripper, come read their dirty excerpt.

BUY IT NOW IN the SULTRY NIGHTS Boxed set. 22 tales of sexiness for only 99cents

FROZEN- The Martini Lounge
By Ursula Sinclair



Ever have that one perfect moment in time, when you know exactly what you’re supposed to do, who you’re supposed to be in life? Well, that had been me, and it certainly had lasted for more than a moment. I’d decided to pledge myself to God and help others in his name. Selfless, that was me and I was weeks away from taking my final vows. Then something happened, I met someone and suddenly I questioned everything. 


 I’ve always lived my life on my terms. Granted, I never thought I’d grow up to be a male stripper. But what the hell, I made good money and now, I had a shot at something more. And the women. Yeah, I loved women but they came and went. I preferred it that way. Didn’t matter which of us left first, as long as one of us did. I didn’t do attachments. Then something happened. I’m no saint, but I saved someone and wanted an attachment. Only to find out I could never have her.

Other books in The Martini Lounge Collection

Each book can be read as a stand-alone

Here's a dirty, dirty 18+ EXCERPT

We were both panting heavily. His arms remained at my shoulders and mine around his waist. I tried to take a step back, but the couch lay behind me. I ended up just landing on my butt. His covered enlarged cock stood in front of my face. Straining against the flimsy material. Like grass standing against a gale wind, I had no control. I leaned forward and licked him through the material.
He gave a ragged groan and placed his hand on my head. 
I jerked back. “No, please. I’m so sorry, I want you, but—I don’t know. I don’t want…” The frustration appeared evident in my voice. I wanted him so badly, but I wanted to be able to control what we did, how far I’d allow us to go. I figured if I could draw a line I could have him just this once. If I didn’t let him touch me, I would be able to guide what we did or didn’t do. How far this could go. How far did I want it go? I just licked his cock and craved more, but I needed the reins.
“What if I just let you touch me? Anyway, anyhow you want to. We won’t go any further than you want to go.”
“What?” I blinked confused. Did he understand after all? The idea of being able to touch him, to have all of his male strength to control, had moisture pooling between my legs. It would make it easier for me if I did the touching, if he couldn’t touch me. If he touched me, I’d lose everything. I knew that. “But how would you do that? How would you be able to prevent yourself from touching me? From losing control.”
He placed his hands behind his back. “Do you trust me?” 
His hard length throbbed in front of my face. My mouth was suddenly dry again, while my underwear remained drenched in a sea of desire. I swallowed and nodded.
“Grab the belt and stand up.”
I frowned. “Huh?” 
“Trust me. Pick up the belt and stand up.”
I did. Still unsure what he had in mind. I grabbed the belt hoping he wasn’t going to ask me to spank him. Maybe I needed to rethink this whole idea. The thought of inflicting any kind of intentional pain like that on him made me flinch inside. “Listen, maybe this isn’t…” I stopped talking when he sat down. Really confused now. How could I spank his bottom if he was sitting down? 
He grinned as though reading my mind. “No hon, I’m not into pain. Not that kind. I’m not into being tied up either, but I’m going to do this for you. If this is what it will take to make you feel secure and in control so you don’t go any farther than you’re comfortable with going.” He raised his hands over his head and sat back relaxed on the wide couch, and slowly spread his thighs. His erection strained against the material, surely stretching it to its maximum. 
I could see a dark spot at his tip, either from when I licked him or his pre-cum. I trembled. 
“Use the belt and wrap it like a figure 8 between my wrists. Then close the buckle.”
“Do it. It won’t hurt me, but it will restrain me enough, remind me in case I forget not to touch you.”
“Do it, baby. Do it for me and for yourself. We both need this. I know I sure as shit do… 

Ursula Sinclair is the alter ego of LaVerne Thompson a USA Today Bestselling author, an award winning, multi-published author, an avid reader and a writer of contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi sensual romances. She loves creating worlds within our world. She writes romantic suspense and new adult romance under the pen name Ursula Sinclair. 
She is a certified chocoholic and is currently working on several projects. Some might even involve chocolate. But writing helps maintain her sanity. 

Sign up for her newsletter for sneak peeks and advance info on new releases as well as a few freebies to subscribers.

Social Media Stalk Ursula HERE!

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

ONLY 99cents for 20 steamy holiday and winter reads!

Season of Seduction, one of the hottest anthologies this season.

It's the perfect collection to chase away those winter chills and heat up your sheets.

Ring in the holidays this year with this collection of steamy to sexy scintillating reads from today's hottest bestselling authors. Whether you’re looking for a romance by the warm glow of the fireplace or a passionate romp on a bear skin rug, there is something for all readers, for every taste, desire, and whim.
Come and join us, won’t you? This is sure to be a Season... of Seduction.

ONLY 99cents for 20 steamy holiday and winter reads!

Featuring my book

Snowed In and Set Up

Six lonely hearts, five days and a whole lot of mistletoe

Monday, November 13, 2017

Please welcome, Bonnie Edwards with her super sexy book Slow Hand. I don't know about you, but this cover is heating up my winter already!

A jilted bride...a sexy sea at first touch

Leaving behind a wintry New York, stressed-out bride Teri Branton is determined to get the Caribbean honeymoon cruise she paid for — even without the groom.

Laidback Captain Jared MacKay instantly dislikes Teri's 6-inch heels and New York attitude. All Jared wants is the nap he’s earned—but this cruise looks like it will be all hands on deck.

Neither is prepared for their electrifying first touch.

Jared and Teri have one short week under the sultry Caribbean sun. Can Jared's slow hand lead them beyond torrid sex into a lifetime of love?

Dirty, dirty excerpt 

… And still, this was just a kiss. A first kiss, a tentative kiss, an exploration of the attraction between them. A test.
His hands burrowed into her hair, cupped her head, and massaged her scalp as he took and took and took from her lips. She gave, and took back, swept up in the moment, in the exciting electricity that was Jared.
His lips eased from hers, traced her jaw, and skimmed down her neck, back up to her ear. His breath there sent powerful surges down her spine that bloomed deep inside her most private places. 
“This is crazy or, I don’t know what it is, just something.” She stopped talking because she wasn’t sure what to say. 
“Right?” he suggested. He pulled back, searched her eyes, held her loosely, ready even now to step back if she needed him to. “Because it is right, Teri.”
“Yes.” Unbelievably, it was. So right.
He opened and dropped his towel. His erection, heavy and jutting made her mouth go dry and her clit, plump and rosy, pulse with need.
She pulled herself up to sit on the counter. Arching backward Teri offered herself. She expected him to prod at her entrance, to rush to her core, to plunder where he could, like the pirate he was.
She propped herself on stiff arms, tilted her head back so her hair hung like a fall behind her, the tips grazing the countertop. She couldn’t make more of an offering than this. Vulnerable, open, her arms behind her, her legs spread to receive, her head thrown back. She could hear his labored breath, feel the arc of pulsing need, smell the arousal of her own flesh, sense the import of the act of possession.
“Do it.” She was braced and ready. 
“Teri,” his voice held wonder, excitement, intimacy. “Look at me.”
She raised her head, opened one eye. He stood transfixed.
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman, a more beautiful offering than this. But I need you to look at me. I need you to know who’s inside you.”
She nodded, befuddled. “Okay.”
“What’s my name?”
“Who am I?” The demand in his voice was raw-edged, the words bitten off and harsh.
“Jared MacKay, captain of the SandJack.”
“What am I?”
“My pirate.”
He blinked when he heard the words. His face softened. When he looked at her again, she thrilled at what she saw in his gaze. She’d offered whatever he wanted sexually, made it plain he could do anything he liked. 
He dropped to his knees. Oh, he liked that. . . . Thank you, thank you, she said in a silent plea. A flash of the actors crossed her mind’s screen and she shivered in anticipation of the touch of his tongue on her moist slit. Would it be powerful like a ravishing pirate or gentle and coaxing like a tentative lover?
His long callused fingers gripped her ankle, held her foot still.
She felt his mouth on her big toe and jerked, startled. But he held her foot still and moved on to the next toe. Fire raced up her leg from each touch of his tongue and set a throb to start inside. Pulsing and needy she bloomed for him as he set sparklers on each toe, giving each equal attention.
“Oh, Jared, that’s exquisite.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss these tiny perfect toes since you took your shoes off at the pier.”
“Just keep moving up my leg and I’ll be happy.”
His fingers slid to her knee. “You mean up to here?” He swirled her pinky toe into his mouth and tugged on it.
Her knee turned into a fireworks display at the same time her toe melted in his mouth. “Unnnnhh, higher.” She’d implode if he kept up this slow pace. 
His fingers swirled behind her knee and probed delicately there, making her croon in desperation for him to move higher, but she knew asking him would only prolong the agony. He wanted to torture her.
“I didn’t know you were a tease,” she murmured.
“Unlike yourself?” The husky tone held humor, but she was too far gone to get the joke.
She counted the inches he crept. Two, then three, four. . . .  
This was not what she expected. He ran a finger along her sole, sending shudders up her leg to her heart.
And then it came to her. “Is this payback for my game on deck with the lotion?”
He raised himself to lean over her, desire and deep humor blazing from his eyes. “Did you think I didn’t want my tongue on you? Your finger was less an inch from your clit. You threw your head back and the sun played across your skin in pink and red and I couldn’t tell if it was my eyes playing tricks or if you really were on fire.”
“I’m on fire now,” she said hoping beyond reason that he’d quench her and do it fast.
But his mouth quirked up into an evil, teasing grin and she knew down to her well-sucked toes, she was at his mercy. The pirate took complete control. 

Multi-published author Bonnie Edwards lives with her husband and pets on the rainy coast of British Columbia. She believes life should be lived with joy and humour. You can find both in her earthy, irreverent, love stories. Sometimes her stories have a paranormal twist, likes curses and ghosts, other times not. But they’re always entertaining and guarantee a happy ending.
With three ongoing romance series (steamy paranormal, sexy contemporary and heartwarming Christmas) and contemporary family novels, she rarely spends a day without writing. She has written novels, novellas and short stories for Kensington Books, Harlequin Books, Carina Press, and Robinson (UK) although now she publishes her work herself. Look for more exciting releases throughout 2017 and 2018…

For more info and sample chapters:

Find her here:

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Sunday, November 12, 2017

#Read a Dirty #Excerpt from Down & Dirty: Jag by Jeanne St. James

Down & Dirty: Jag (Dirty Angels MC, Book 2)
By Jeanne St. James

Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance, MC Romance

On sale for $2.99 for a limited time or FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon Paperback:

5 Star Amazon Review: “Amazing Series: Oh my gosh I LOVE this series! This is the second book in the Dirty Angels MC series and as much as I liked Zak’s book, and I really, really liked Zak’s book, I think I like Jag’s even better. Jag is a total trip, the man is super sexy and annoyingly alpha, but he’s also sweet and hilariously funny when it comes to Ivy...she definitely pushes ALL his buttons.”


Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Jag’s story…

The only thing Jag, DAMC Road Captain, loves more than his custom bike is Ivy. He’s wanted her ever since he could remember. However, through the years, he’s had to watch her date anyone but him since she avoids dating bikers like the plague. Instead, she gravitates toward the complete opposite: geeks and nerds. Something Jag will never be.

Smart and independent, Ivy wants to be the property of no man. Growing up in the club, she knows firsthand how they treat women. She regrets the mistake she made by dragging Jag upstairs to his room at the club one drunken night. Ever since then, she’s been doing her best to keep him at arm’s length, though it’s proven difficult. Especially when she finds out his secret, which only endears her to him even more.

Between secrets, lies, and a violent tangle with a rival club, can these two passionate hot-heads find the love and solace they’re looking for in each other’s arms? Or will everything just tumble down around them?

Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker slang, cursing, some violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males who like to take charge, this book is for you.


She didn’t want sweet sex from him. She wanted it hard. She wanted it rough. She wanted it angry and hot.
She could get the boring shit anywhere else.
That’s not what she wanted from Jag.
And if she had to torque him up a little to get what she wanted...
So be it.
Ivy watched him continue to stroke his cock. Every movement of his hand made her clench deep inside. She wanted that hand, those fingers, on her.
“Are you going to keep that to yourself or are you going to give it to me?”
“Fuckin’ gonna give it to you, baby. You’re still dressed.”
“I didn’t know I had to undress mys—” Before she could finish, he grabbed her ankles, yanking her onto her back and down the bed. He ripped her shorts down her legs and off her feet, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder.
Then he shoved her cami up over her breasts, burying his face between them, snagging both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them hard, making her cry out in both pain and pleasure.
Yes. This.
This is what she wanted from him. Not that sweet shit he tried to give her last time.
His teeth scraped her skin before sinking into the side of her breast. Her body bowed in response, and she threw her head back, crying out once again.
“This what you want? This?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she yelled, her eyes rolling back.
“Fuckin’ Ivy,” he muttered before pulling one of her nipples deep into his mouth, scoring the tip with his teeth. She grabbed onto his thickly muscled shoulders, digging her nails in, then raked them up his neck.
He shuddered against her and groaned around her nipple. Nipping along her skin, he came nose to nose with her.
“Want it rough, that what you want?”
Something flashed in his eyes when she hissed, “Yes.”
He finished tugging her cami over her head and flung it across the room. “Your tits are so goddamn sweet,” he murmured before sucking the other nipple into his mouth, he gripped her other breast and squeezed hard.
Yes, that was how she liked it.
His cock pressed against her thigh and she couldn’t wait to have him inside her. But first...
“Are you hungry, yet?”
He lifted his head, met her gaze with a smile. “Starvin’, baby.” Pushing back to his knees, he shoved her legs up, throwing them over his shoulder, and buried his face between her thighs.
“Fuck yes,” she shouted to the ceiling. She squirmed when he chuckled against her swollen, soaked lips. He sucked her clit hard, and she dug her heels into his back, sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him close, encouraging him to get even closer.
Her whole body jerked with each flick of his tongue against her overly sensitive nub. Then skilled fingers were inside her, curling, finding the spot that made her hips dance even more. He teased her with his mouth, his tongue, tortured her with his fingers... until she couldn’t take any more.
“I’m coming,” she wailed as the blood rushed through her, her body vibrated against him, around him. He bit hard into the flesh of her inner thigh. “Oh fuck!”
“My baby likes it rough.”
She ignored the “my” part of “my baby” when he sank his teeth into her other thigh. “Fuck, Jag, yes!”
“Goddamn,” he whispered, pulling himself up and over her, going face to face. “Grab a condom,” he demanded, his eyes dark, heated.
Ivy slipped her hand under her pillow and held one up with a smile. “Number eight.”
“Fuckin’ Ivy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but she didn’t miss his grin before he slammed his lips down on hers. His tongue plundered her mouth and his hands dug deep into her hair, pulling her head back, arching her neck. He broke away and tugged on her hair even harder.
He sounded out of breath when he asked, “Like your hair pulled?”
Fuck. “Yes.”
“Like your ass spanked?” He scraped his teeth along her throat.
Ah fuck. “Yes.”
He lifted his head. “Those nerd boys of yours give you what you need?” When she didn’t answer him, he tugged her hair again. “Answer me, Ivy. They give you what you need?”
She was damned if she answered him, damned if she didn’t. She knew the thought of her being with other men bothered him. It shouldn’t since she had lost her virginity a long, long time ago. But she knew it did. And at twenty-eight, she’d been through quite a few men, but she was sure his conquests outnumbered hers by at least triple. If not more.
The old double standard reared its ugly head.
And though some of the men she’d been with could get as “down and dirty” as a biker, most of them didn’t. Or couldn’t. It just wasn’t in them.
“Takin’ your silence as a no,” he said, pushing himself back on his knees once again. He snagged the condom she had hidden earlier, ripped it open, and rolled it on. When he was done, he met her gaze. “I can give you what you need, baby.” He smacked his palm against his bare chest. “Me. I’ll give it to you any way you want it. Long as I’m the only one in here.”
There he went again, demanding exclusivity. The fear of being tied down to one man, hell, tied down to a biker to boot, went through her.
She was young. She had more life to live yet before she settled down.
If she ever settled down.
At this point, she saw no reason to do just that. Be with only one man for the rest of her life.
She enjoyed her freedom. Or as free as she could be being part of an MC.
But what was staring at her right now was the opposite of freedom.
“Not promising you jack,” she whispered, knowing it would piss him off, but it had to be said.
A muscle twitched in his hard jaw and his eyes narrowed. Then he grabbed her and flipped her over roughly, yanking her hips up and back, then with not even a slight hesitation slammed into her with a grunt.
“Fuckin’ woman’s gotta fight me at every turn.” With each slam, he grunted. With each impact, the air rushed from her lungs. She buried her head in her pillow, her lips parted as she struggled for breath.
The crack of his hand against her ass surprised her more than hurt her. And when she laughed, he froze mid-motion. She twisted her neck to look behind her. He was staring at her with what sort of looked like a confused expression on his face. But his nostrils flared and his eyes burned like coals. Then, with a grimace, he dug the fingers of one hand into the flesh of her hip and smacked her hard again with the other.
Her body shifted forward with the impact, but she shoved herself back, impaling herself on him. “That’s it, Jag, fucking give it to me.”
“Goddamn,” he grunted and did it again, just as hard. Her skin began to burn where he spanked her.
“The other side, too,” she encouraged him, breathing hard now, tilting her hips, taking him as deep as she could.
He switched sides and smacked her again.
“Fuck, yes,” she screamed into the pillow, gripping the sheet tightly in her fists.
“For fuck’s sakes, Ivy,” he barked.
“Shut up and do it!” she yelled at him.
He did it again, not as hard this time. Then his body collapsed over her, covering her, and he sank his teeth into her shoulder. She quivered uncontrollably beneath him, her groan muffled. She squeezed him hard with her inner muscles and he grunted against her skin.
“Again,” she encouraged.
When he bit the back of her neck, she cried out. She released her grip on the sheet and found her own clit, pressing, circling, rubbing until her body vibrated on the edge. And then she found what she was looking for... release. Her pussy clenched hard around him and he groaned, straightening back up, now holding onto both hips, but holding still as she came down from her high.

About the Author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today 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:

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