From now on my blog and website are combined at
www.barbaraelsborg.com
I hope this transitions smoothly!
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
Crash into Love - by Sofia Grey
I'm one of the blogs on Sofia's tour for her new book - Crash into Love!
Here's what Sofia has to say.
Want some exclusive swag? One lucky commenter will get one of these gorgeous little fridge magnets, and yes, Sofia will post international J
Wash Away by Joe Purdy
I love an
eclectic mixture of music, and sometimes I stumble across it in odd places.
While watching LOST, there was an episode in Season 1 that featured Wash
Away by Joe Purdy. I’d never even heard of him before, but now he’s added
to my playlists. I like his laid back, gentle style, and it’s a song I now
associate with the sea. If you watch the YouTube clip you’ll see why. Despite
the plane crash and all the tragedy and angst, this song imparts a feel-good
vibe.
In Crash
Into Love, my characters spend a lot of time on the beach.
~
Lifting my hand, I reached toward
him and stroked his cheek, savoring the prickliness beneath my finger. He
caught my hand. “Have you finished? Can I kiss you now?”
My alter ego made her move. I leaned
forward and closed the gap to tease Jonah with my lips. He made a muffled groan
and kissed me back, hard. He rolled to lie on his back and urged me to go on
top, then wrapped both arms around me. I squealed with glee inside. Thirty-four
years old and making out on the sand like a horny teenager. I ran my fingers
through his hair and rubbed myself against him while he explored my mouth. I
had to lift my head. I needed to breathe. He lay there, flushed and panting,
wild hair covered with fine, powdery sand, and gave me the sexiest grin I’d
ever seen on a man. Cocky, confident, and very alluring.
“That’s a yes, then?” How could I
possibly resist him? I already knew I’d be taking him back to my bed tonight.
“What do you think?” We kissed
again, slowly, learning each other. A faint tang of lemon clung to his lips, a
reminder of our dinner, but he tasted dark and delicious. He slid his hands
down my arms, and every nerve ending jumped to life. He was creating erogenous
zones that I didn’t know were possible. Right now, my entire body was rewriting
itself to a new language, one that whispered Jonah with every breath.
~
Blurb:
Cass thought spending a month at a beachside hideaway
relaxing and collecting shells would be the perfect escape to finish her novel.
When she meets the dark and brooding and much younger Jonah, who's staying next
door, her book becomes the last thing on her mind.
Jonah would rather stay home alone than go on vacation with
his brother and their friends, but does his best to tolerate the situation
after being convinced to go. But when he sees the beauty next door, he can’t
avoid his attraction.
Together, they break all the rules, but will Cass be able to
bring Jonah out of his shell forever, or will he leave her with only the crash
of the surf to keep her company?
~
Trailer link:
Book
links:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1fmtVML
Author
links:
Catch me
blogging with Allyson Lindt at www.GeminiGirls.com
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6906923.Sofia_Grey
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/Sofia.Grey.Romance.Author
Pinterest:
http://www.pinterest.com/sofiagrey1/
Twitter:
@SofiaGreyAuthor https://twitter.com/SofiaGreyAuthor
Amazon author profile page: https://www.amazon.com/author/sofiagrey
Author
bio:
Romance author Sofia Grey spends her days managing projects
in the corporate world and her nights hanging out with wolf shifters and alpha
males. She devours pretty much anything in the fiction line, but she prefers
her romances to be hot, and her heroes to have hidden depths. When writing, she
enjoys peeling back the layers to expose her characters’ flaws and always makes
them work hard for their happy endings.
Music is
interwoven so tightly into my writing that I can’t untangle the two. Either I’m
listening to a playlist on my iPod, have music seeping from my laptop speakers,
or there’s a song playing in my head – sometimes on auto-repeat.
Check
out my playlist on Pinterest and listen for
free via Pandora.com (Sofia Grey
–Crash Into Love station)
Monday, March 10, 2014
Please welcome Sotia Lazu to the blog!
Cherry Stem Book Blitz and Giveaway
Blurb
Turned at the cusp of a promising career in the adult
movie industry, Cherry Stem has to rely on her mesmerizing vampire gaze for her
meals and money. With the rent deadline approaching, settling for pocket change
isn’t an option, so she reluctantly decides to let tall, dark, and handsome
Detective Alex Marsden take her home for the night and fulfill her needs.
Only she gets more than she bargained for.
When Cherry meets Alex, she expects him to be nothing
more than another “girl meets boy, girl feeds from boy, girl erases boy’s
memories” hook-up. Once missing young women, the vampire council, and her
irresistible ex are thrown into the mix though, she realizes nothing is as
simple or random as she thought it was.
And Alex is either the biggest gift or the biggest
mistake of her un-life.
Excerpt
Hiding
my body seemed silly after we’d already had sex, so I didn’t. Not that he
looked. He just dropped a duffel bag by the sink.
“Thought
you’d want clean clothes as soon as you were dry,” he said. “Got a couple tees
and sweatpants from my place. They’ll be too big for you, but at least the
pants have drawstrings. Should be good for the night.”
Then he
pulled his shirt over his head.
If I
were human, I’d have been drowned by the water filling my mouth and clogging my
throat while I gaped at him. As it was, I was grateful I’d opened the shower
stall door and could enjoy the view.
Most
people look better when they’re dressed than when they’re out of their clothes.
There are always flaws, something that needs covering up: a slightly jutting
stomach, love handles, scars, pimples. Something.
To me
Alex was perfect.
I’d
already run my fingers down his chest and abs, but seeing the smooth, flawless
skin stretch over rippling muscle made me itch to caress it. His shoulders were
wide; I knew that already, but the way they rounded, leading to his flexing
biceps, was a sight to behold. And that’s what I did. I beheld, wishing he was closer, that I could press my breasts
against his chest and see goose bumps rise.
I would
probably have kept staring at his six-pack for much longer if his fingers
hadn’t gotten in the way. Splayed across his abdomen, they touched what I
longed for, ghosting their way down to the front of his pants. I wanted to lick
my way along the trail of fine hair beneath his navel that disappeared inside
his waistband. I sucked in a breath when he undid the button and another when
the zipper lowered, allowing his slacks to fall to the teal, tiled floor.
My gaze
followed them, until he stepped out of the pooled fabric and toward the shower
stall.
Toward
me.
Book Title: Cherry
Stem (Book I of the Cherry Series)
Author: Sotia
Lazu
Genre: Erotic
Urban Fantasy
Length: 74K
Release Date:
3.15.2014
ISBN: 9781310502491
Pre-Order/Purchase
Links: B & N (http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cherry-stem-sotia-lazu/1108360841)
| Apple (https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/cherry-stem/id797110233)
| Smashwords (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395806)
| Coming Soon on Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Cherry-Stem-Sotia-Lazu/dp/148415570X/)
The book is for Adults Only
About
the Author
Sotia cries at sappy movies and wishes she could take
in all the stray dogs in the world. She lives in Athens, Greece, with her
husband—whom she met through writing—their son, and their two rescue dogs, one
of which might be part-pony.
Her genres of choice are romances with a twist and
urban fantasy novels, always with vivid erotic elements. Her characters aren't
exactly hero-material at first glance; she likes making them fight for their
happiness. Still, the romantic in her can’t resist happy endings.
Sotia’s books: Amazon (www.amazon.com/Sotia-Lazu/e/B006ZXWZYK)
| B & N (http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/sotia-lazu)
| Smashwords (https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/justsotia)
| Apple (https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/sotia-lazu/id497791319?mt=11)
| Kobo (http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=%22Sotia+Lazu%22&t=none&f=author&p=1&s=none&g=both)
Find Sotia:
Website (http://sotialazu.com)
Twitter (https://twitter.com/justsotia)
Or write to her at author@sotialazu.com
GIVEAWAY
Sotia is so happy to be re-launching Cherry Stem, she felt like
sharing the happiness :)
Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win an
e-Book or some Author Swag, including a lovely cherry shaped bracelet charm!
NOTE: The giveaway is for Adults Only. Please do not enter if you’re
below your country’s legal age.
Entrants can enter more than once with options such as “Leave a comment”
and “Tweet about this Giveaway.”
AND THAT’S NOT ALL!
Stop by Sotia’s blog (http://sotialazu.wordpress.com/)
March 15 – March 19 for more goodies and surprises on a daily basis!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Authors behaving badly
And I'm not talking about that time I had a little too much to drink and took off my clothes and danced naked in--- no I wasn't talking about that. What I meant to talk about was the sudden upsurge in not very pleasant exchanges between author and readers on Goodreads, between an author and readers in the Huffington Post, between author and reviewer on Amazon. I know we can't all be nice to everyone but I do wish people would think before they put pen to paper. Unless you're a pantster and writing a book. Then you're allowed to just sit and write.
When my kids get all bent out of shape about something and want to right a perceived wrong, I always say - what end result do you want? Will it make everything right again? Because if it won't, then think twice about saying or doing anything. Cowardly behaviour is not right but better to walk away from confrontation that step it up into something you never wanted it to be.
The world's a big place. We should be able to share nicely!
Apart from that bitch who keeps telling her friends to vote--oops sorry - did it again!
When my kids get all bent out of shape about something and want to right a perceived wrong, I always say - what end result do you want? Will it make everything right again? Because if it won't, then think twice about saying or doing anything. Cowardly behaviour is not right but better to walk away from confrontation that step it up into something you never wanted it to be.
The world's a big place. We should be able to share nicely!
Apart from that bitch who keeps telling her friends to vote--oops sorry - did it again!
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Today is the day!!!!!!!!!!!
My erotic romance Summer Girl, Winter Boy is out today with Ellora's Cave. Yippee
The blurb!
The blurb!
Jai Winter is trying to do the right thing,
even though he knows it’s wrong. Forced to participate in kinky sex games, the
renowned model spends his spare moments creating an impressive list of suicide
options. Until a snowy day provides a bit of Summer…a pink-haired burst of
sunshine with a ready smile. What begins as the hottest
sex of his life turns into a ray of hope.
Summer Dey has baggage of her
own—literally. Having spent eighteen months in South America trying to escape a
shocking accident, Summer finds an illegal nightmare hidden in her suitcase.
She doesn’t want to put Jai in danger, but his gorgeous face and killer bod
prove hard to resist.
Boy meets girl, girl falls for boy, and
everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for blackmail, drug dealers and tragic
events in both their pasts. Staying together could be their salvation—or their
ultimate undoing.
An Extract From Summer Girl, Winter Boy
(The pair have just met and are stranded at
a snowbound airport)
An hour later, Jai was drowning in a
perfect way. Summer was smart and funny. Too smart and funny for him. Even so,
at a different time, and in a different place, he’d have persuaded her back to
his bed, and the telephone number he’d give her would have been the right one,
and he’d have called her when he said he would because she might be The One.
His dick went rigid with shock. Or
something else.
But there was no different time, no
different place. He was who he was and he had no future until Marta and Saul
were either bored with him or were dead. Or he was dead. Buried under a ton of
ice in an ice age. Not a likely scenario and not going on his list. Oh hell, why not if it might happen next
year? His cock deflated.
“You’ve gone all moody,” Summer said.
“What’s wrong?”
He’d thought he’d hidden that. Shit. “Just thinking about how hard that
floor is going to be.”
“I’ve slept in worse places. At least it’s
clean. No llama poop or guinea pig bones.”
He’d slept in worse places too though the
beds had been comfortable and the sheets high-quality Egyptian cotton, but the
people with him—fucking bastards. It
wasn’t where you slept but who slept with you.
They left the bar when shutters rattled.
“Guess we should try to get some sleep,” he
said as they moved into the concourse, though sleep was the last thing on his racing
mind. “Welcome to the latest in innovative hotels. We have a wide selection of
extremely spacious open-plan accommodations available tonight. Bedrooms with
and without views. I’m afraid the beds are a little firm and only a few have en
suite facilities. On the plus side, they’re economical.”
Summer shivered. “Think there’s anywhere
warm?”
He looked at her long, tanned bare legs,
her skimpy dress, the metal at her nipples, then at the snow plastering itself
against the windows.
“I know,” she said. “I’m not dressed for
winter, but I left eighty-degree heat and assumed I’d get straight off one
plane and onto another. I intended to change into my jeans when I arrived in
London. I’ve a coat in my…suitcase, which is probably languishing under three
feet of snow because the guys who are supposed to unload went home while they
still could.”
“Want a sweater?” He took one from his
carry-on and handed it to her.
“Thank you so much.” She pulled it on.
The dark-blue sweater swamped her but she
looked so cute, his cock flickered back to life. Give it up. There’s no point. She shouldn’t have looked sexy in a
guy’s sweater, though he’d prefer her in nothing but those piercings. He wanted
to suck them, rub the head of his dick over them. Blood flowed south. Damn it. Stop thinking.
They wandered through the airport, looking
for somewhere to settle. All the more comfortable-looking spots were already
taken.
“Nowhere is warmer than anywhere else,”
Summer said. “Here will be fine.”
She dropped onto the floor next to the wall
and lay on her back with her head resting on her bag. Oh god, her legs go on forever.
“You are approaching the end of the
walkway,” intoned a voice.
Summer sat up and groaned. “Not here. That’ll
go on all night.”
They headed away into the gate area.
“I’ll just use the restroom,” she said.
“Good idea. I’ll join you. Well, not join
you.” Though the idea appealed.
He took out his last two temazepam and then
stuffed them back in the bag. Maybe he didn’t need them. After he’d splashed
water into his mouth and on his face, he accidentally looked up into the
mirror. He hated what he saw—dark shadows under his eyes, a wary look on his
face, a tense jaw, yet under all that, a guy women seemed to find irresistible.
All those years he’d thought he was something special and now he longed to be
nothing special at all.
When he emerged, Summer was already lying
on the floor with her head on her backpack. He unzipped his carry-on to take
out a pair of chinos and folded them to put under his head. His stomach
fluttered as he settled next to her, his face inches from hers.
“Are you sleeping on the side of the bed
you prefer?” he asked. Does anyone
usually share your bed? Are you married, engaged, have a boyfriend?
“I’m fine unless your side of the bed is
more comfortable, in which case I hope you’d be a gentleman and swap.”
“Sadly not.” I’m no gentleman. You could lay on me except we’d get arrested.
She was so close he could almost count her
eyelashes. Her eyes were the strong blue of the sky on a cold winter’s day, the
irises ringed with a darker hue. She had a couple of freckles on her tanned
cheeks and he wanted to kiss them, kiss her lips, kiss her cute nose, kiss her
nipples, kiss her all over. His cock twitched.
“Are you going to close your eyes?” he
asked.
“Eventually. Are you?”
“Eventually. I like the view too much at
the moment.”
“Very smooth, Mr. Winter.”
“Thank you, Miss Summer. Are your nipples
pierced?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
“Yes.”
No,
you can’t come out and take a look, he yelled at
his cock. There’s nothing to see at the
moment. The stupid thing still tried, pressing against his zipper.
“Why did you have it done?”
“Why do you think I had it done?”
Oh
Christ, don’t splutter, don’t tell her what you think, what nearly every guy
would think. “Somewhere to hang your car keys?”
She grinned. “Damn, I never thought you’d
get that.”
“Anything else pierced?” Cut out my tongue now.
“Maybe.”
Ask
her what, said his cock.
“Tattoos?” he choked out.
“Maybe.”
A low growl burst from his lips and she
giggled.
“What an interesting young lady you are.”
He moved a fraction closer and could feel
her breath hitting his face.
Do
it, do it, do it, yelled his cock.
Do
what? he yelled back. If I kiss her, where’s it going to go? We’re lying in a public place
and you know what you’re like. This won’t stop at kissing. You’ll embarrass me.
Had she
moved closer? Yes. Oh god.
“Hi there, folks.”
The voice jolted them both and they clashed
heads as they jerked upright.
“Ouch,” Summer yelped and rubbed her
forehead.
“Sorry,” he blurted.
“No, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
He rubbed his head. “Yep.”
He’d hoped their first touch would be less
painful.
Two female airport employees stood in front
of them.
The
thought police? He hadn’t done anything—yet.
“Sorry to disturb you,” one of the women
said. “We’re giving out blankets, pillows and a few essentials to help you
spend an easier night.”
They were each handed a bag.
“Thank you,” Summer said. “That’s
brilliant. Is there an inflatable bed in here?”
“Sadly not. You two have a good night.” The
women wandered off again.
Define
“good”.
Apart from pillows and emergency blankets,
the bags also contained bottles of water and snacks.
“No condoms either,” Summer said and
clapped a hand to her mouth. “Shit.”
He laughed. Don’t worry. I’ve plenty.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Please welcome A.E.Via to the blog with her new book - You Can See Me
Author
A.E. Via
Title: You Can See Me
M/M/M
GAY EROTIC CONTEMPORARY
WORD
COUNT - 78,200
Release
Date: February 07, 2014
World renowned chef
Prescott Vaughan was at the height of his career. Right before he's
to leave for Paris to work alongside his idol, a horrific car accident
leaves him completely blind.
His female fiancé
leaves him in a state of desperation and depression. He pines for love,
companionship, and so happens to find it in the form of his very sexy
neighbor. Sexy male neighbor, Dr. Rickson 'Ric'
Edwards.
Prescott's not gay - at
least he never considered himself gay - until Ric saves him from a date, gone
terribly wrong. The two neighbors hit it off quickly and waste no
time exploring and learning each other. Things are great until
Ric begins to have his doubts about meeting Prescott's many
wants.
When Ric insist he and
Prescott take a breather, Pres finds himself lonely and lacking
again. Enter, male escort and aspiring chef, Blair McKenzie to
fill the void.
In the meantime, Ric works
on his issues that prohibits him from displaying the love he knows he
has for Prescott. When Ric is finally ready and returns to claim Prescott he's
not sure that Pres can let go of the sexy, southern, hotness that is Blair
McKenzie. After Ric has his own personal encounter with the sinfully sexy
man, he can't help but become entranced and crave more as well.
Pres soon realizes
that there's no need to choose between his two men, because when all
three of them finally come together - grab a cold drink - the heat is going to
go all the way up!
This is not your typical
gay ménage romance. Everyone is not happy, skipping along, and loving life.
These men are at each other’s throats. They live completely separate
lives; fuss, cuss, and fight until they all realize exactly what the
problem is...too damn much sexual tension.
AUTHOR BIO:
A.E.
Via is the new best-selling author in the beautiful gay erotic genre. Her
writing embodies everything from spicy to scandalous. Her stories often include
intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When
she’s not clicking away at her laptop, A.E. runs a very successful
paralegal-for-hire business and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her
family – a husband and four children – her two pets, a Maltese dog and her
white Siamese cat, ELynn, named after the late great gay romance author ELynn
Harris.
While
this is only her second novel, she has plenty more to come...so sit back and
grab a cool drink, because the male on male action is just heating up!
Go
to A.E. Via’s official website http://authoraevia.com for more detailed
information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak on up-coming
work, free reads, and where she’ll appear next.
Links:
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/A.-E.-Via/e/B00GMNMS4U/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1390865523&sr=8-1
Amazon link :http://www.amazon.com/You-Can-See-Me-Via-ebook/dp/B00IBQN8KE/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391996415&sr=1-2
Amazon link :http://www.amazon.com/You-Can-See-Me-Via-ebook/dp/B00IBQN8KE/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391996415&sr=1-2
Excerpt:
Ric
leaned his head back against the elevator paneling and watched the numbers
light up all the way to floor ten before his eyes drifted shut for the rest of
the way. When the doors opened, he came face-to-face with Prescott’s Texan.
Fuck me.
Instead
of the gorgeous prick getting on the elevator and leaving, the cocky bastard
took a couple steps back and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of
the hallway and stared openly at him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His
hazel eyes scanned Ric up and down, taking in his disheveled, stressed-out
appearance.
“Do
you have a fucking problem?” Ric growled, refusing to pretend to be cordial to
the man even though he was a complete stranger and had done absolutely nothing
to him.
The
man had the nerve to smirk at him and shake his head as if pitying Ric, or
perhaps throwing it in Ric’s face that he’d definitely had a better night than
he had. Ric did try to hide his anger at knowing the man had slept with his
Pres. Why the hell else would he be leaving at five in the damn morning? Unless
he delivered newspapers or milk, he had absolutely no reason to be on this
floor this time of morning. Bastard.
“No,
I don’t have a problem,” he drawled slowly, making sure to put extra
enunciation on the “I” part of his sentence. “But, obviously, you do. Or else
you wouldn’t be scowling at me for no reason.”
“Fuck
you,” Ric snarled, stepping just a little closer. He wanted to tear the man’s
lips off for talking with that accent. Then he wanted to rip his hands off for
daring to touch his Prescott. The man’s
probably a male gold digger.
“Did
you enjoy taking advantage of Prescott? Did you get what you came for?” Ric
growled like a rabid animal three inches away from the man’s face, but he’d be
damned if the asshole didn’t even flinch at his showcase of fury. No reaction
whatsoever.
The
Texan had one hand casually tucked in his jeans pocket, kicking back one side
of his stylish blazer, while he lazily rubbed his other hand over his taut
chest and washboard abs that showed through the thin material of his untucked
dress shirt. Ric hated to admit it, but the man looked well fucked, and he wore
it well.
“How
could you do that to someone like him?” Ric fumed, and it took everything in
him to control his rage.
If I hit him, no one
would know. There’s no one around, no witnesses. It’d be his word against mine.
“I
knew I’d peg you in less than five minutes.” The man spoke with one dark brown
eyebrow cocked up. He ran his fingers through his bed-tousled dark brown hair
and let out an exasperated breath.
“Excuse
me?” Ric blinked.
“Now
I know why you were too stupid to hold on to Prescott Vaughan. You were too
busy feeling sorry for him. Instead of you seeing a brilliant man, a
world-renowned, accomplished chef who happens to be one of the most talented
men to ever set foot in a kitchen, you see a needy, helpless man. Ahhh. Now it
makes perfect sense.”
“Don’t
try to act like you know me because you don’t,” Ric growled, still trying to be
mindful they were in the hallway of the floor that he lived on.
The
Texan pushed off the wall and closed the few inches between them. His six feet,
two inches of height had him eye to eye with Ric, and the man showed no fear.
His handsome face was now a mask of furious anger.
“I
saw you treat him like shit on the bottom of your shoes last night. I watched
him beg you for five fuckin’ minutes of your time, and you spat in his face.
Now, you have the audacity to say I’m mistreating him? Fuck you,” he snarled
right back at Ric.
Just
as fast as the man’s anger came, it disappeared, and he composed himself to
reveal that smirk that Ric selfishly rejoiced Pres couldn’t see, because it was
sexy as fuck…and the man knew it.
Ric
watched his competition push the elevator button as he rubbed his hand over his
morning stubble before speaking again. “You know what they say, don’t you, Doc?
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and Prescott Vaughan is definitely a
rare, precious treasure.”
The
Texan inched in even closer, which surprised the hell out of Ric since they
were practically nose to nose. Ric was smacked in the face with a faint
soap-and-water fragrance that made his eyelids flutter and his own dick jerk to
life. Ric’s half-lidded eyes were riveted to the Texan’s plush lips as he
leaned in and whispered directly into Ric’s open mouth.
“If
you don’t pull your head out of your ass and claim Prescott Vaughan like he
wants, I won’t stop until I’ve fucked the sexy strawberry ten ways to Sunday
and there’s not a single trace of your existence left in his mind, because with
or without you, he needs love, and I was the one there last night to lick his
sweet tears when you walked away.”
The
elevator doors opened at his final words, and the smooth Texan took a few
graceful steps backward into the elevator and gave Ric a sexy wink right before
the doors closed.
Fucking asshole,
Ric thought.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Please welcome Molly Ann Wishlade!!!
Isn't this the most perfect cover!!!!
Molly's new book - Trying Too Hard came out on the 29th January with Carina Publishing. It's a contemporary erotic romance with a rugby star as its hero. For those American unfamiliar with rugby - it's a bit like American football but faster moving! The aim - like American Football - is to carry the ball over the line and in rugby - that's called a try. Hence Molly's great title - Trying Too Hard.
The Blurb
What’s the French word for lust…?
Hired as an intern at a coveted talent agency, blonde bubbly Catrin Owens knew she could be brilliant at the job. The code of conduct is crystal clear – business is business, pleasure is pleasure…and the two should never, ever meet! No problem for Catrin - she’s hardworking, and determined to excel. Until, that is, she meets the 6 ft-something wall of lean muscle that is her boss’ top client…
Scarred, and brimming with forbidden sex appeal, the French rugby star Henri Chevallier crashes through the walls of Catrin’s neatly-ordered life – and throws her polished professionalism aside like a scrap of sheer French lingerie!
The sex is fierce, exhilarating…life-changing – and almost all the more exciting as she knows she’s risking the career she dreamed of. Catrin knows she should step away. The problem? Henri is a temptation she can’t seem to resist…
Excerpt
“There you are!”
The voice was like silk
against Catrin’s skin and a flicker of lust darted like a hot tongue between
her legs. The poky, clinical office kitchen suddenly seemed too warm, its aroma
of burnt toast overpowering. The air conditioning hummed in vain as Catrin’s
body was flooded with heat.
The new arrival took hold
of her shoulders in large, powerful hands and pushed her towards the counter so
that her stomach pressed against the hard melamine edge. Her heart picked up
its pace. The fine hairs on the back of her neck pricked up.
“Catrin,” he whispered
into her right ear, causing a blonde tendril of hair that had freed itself from
her chignon to flutter.
“Yes?” she whispered, her
nipples tightening in anticipation.
“I missed you this
morning.” He nibbled her earlobe. She shivered as he ran his fingers slowly
down her sides.
“Henri.” She leaned into
his warmth, felt the strength of his stomach muscles against her back, his heat
searing through her thin blouse. “I had to get back to my apartment. You
know...feed the cat.”
“What cat?” he said,
trickling slow kisses down her neck then sliding his hands under her arms to
cup her breasts.
She sighed as his
exquisite touch fired her passion and her breathing quickened. She slid around
in his arms then pressed a trembling hand upon his broad chest.
“Please, Henri…”
“What is it, chérie?” He tipped her chin upwards with
a fingertip and his cologne washed over her. She savoured the fresh green woody
tones. At their edge she could make out something else, something even more
delicious: his musky masculine scent. It made her want to open his shirt and
press her face against his belly to breathe him in.
“I can’t keep going like
this,” she smiled, trying to regain her composure but desire pulsed through her
core like a lusty demon possession.
“Like what, Catrin?”
He reached out and
stroked the back of his free hand over her black satin skirt and she groaned,
moving towards him even though a voice at the back of her mind reprimanded her.
He laughed softly at her body’s betrayal and turned his hand around, pressing
it against the apex of her thighs and cupping the ready flesh beneath.
She slumped against the
counter, her eyes half-closed. Her legs turned to jelly as he lifted her skirt
to her thighs.
Here I go again!
Her common sense drifted
away like cobwebs on the wind and her body revealed her true emotions with
every breath she took.
“Oh, t’es la plus belle femme du monde!” he gasped.
“Sorry?”
“Pardon, chérie!” he laughed. “I said that you are the most
beautiful woman in the world.”
“Oh,” she smiled, “Thank
you.” She loved it when Henri spoke his own language but wished that she could
understand him better. A GCSE in French hadn’t equipped her for communicating
with a French lover.
She relaxed and closed
her eyes again as he ran his hands over her thighs.
“And this is what I love
about you!”
Her eyes shot open.
Love?
He pushed her skirt right
up to her hips then fingered the tops of her hold-ups and she realised what he
meant. This Frenchman loved a woman’s body with all the trimmings, which was
lucky as she liked pretty underwear. It was just more fun to have someone to
appreciate it.
Mere moments ago she’d
been spooning two sugars into her coffee cup, desperately in need of a caffeine
fix after yet another long night of French loving with the handsome rugby
player.
She was exhausted.
Exhilarated. Still horny.
It was hard to believe
that it was only two nights ago, on a rather cold, drizzly July evening that
she’d accompanied her boss – the renowned celebrity agent Liam H. Clarkson – to
an annual dinner. It had been the sixth anniversary of the establishment of
Clarkson and Gwillam Celebrity Agency. It now had five branches across Europe,
with the possibility of further growth, so spirits were at an all-time high.
And it had been there,
deep in the cavernous candlelit corridors and ante-chambers of Cardiff Castle,
polished, manicured and poured into her best lbd, that Catrin had met Henri.
And since then, her feet
hadn’t touched the ground!
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