Saturday, April 22, 2017

His Caged Kitty by Alta Hensley

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Here kitty, kitty.... His Caged Kitty by Alta Hensley is LIVE!
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Here kitty, kitty…
His voice. His command. I became weak. Vegas became my Master the day he saved me and stole me away. I was his pet. His property. A caged kitty so I would not run away. In a dark and futuristic world, where civilization has to start over, I have no other options. I must submit to a new way of life. But when the cage unlocks, would I truly be free of my captor? Or would something far greater keep me contained? ** His Caged Kitty is a novella that is very dark, very taboo, and very dirty. There is graphic sex, and strong BDSM elements. This is not for the faint of heart reader wanting champagne and roses. The only roses in this book are covered in thorns. But with dark comes light, and there will be a happily ever after.
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About the Author: Alta Hensley is a USA TODAY bestselling erotic romance author who has had #1 top-selling books in dark, contemporary, BDSM, erotic science fiction, humor, suspense and historical. She writes the hot, dark, and dirty romance. Being a multi-published author in the romance genre, Alta is known for her dark, gritty alpha heroes, sometimes sweet love stories, hot eroticism, and engaging tales of the constant struggle between dominance and submission.

  Connect with Alta Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AltaHensleyAuthor/ Amazon: http://amzn.to/2e4R1ii Twitter: https://twitter.com/AltaHensley Website: www.altahensley.com

Friday, April 21, 2017

Resisting My Submission by Jenna Jacob

Synopsis
They say first impressions mean everything. Either Maximus “Max” Gunn didn’t get the memo or he didn’t care. The gorgeous, muscle-bound Dominant’s assumption that I, Mistress Sammie, was a submissive set my blood boiling. I wanted to drive the toe of my coveted Louis Vuitton stilettos between his legs—and bring him to his knees. But anger wasn’t the only burning emotion Max ignited inside me. The potent sexual attraction we share threatened to burn me alive, too. Unwilling to cede our Dominance, the battle for control raged like a third world war, both in and out of the dungeon. It would take a coup d'├ętat for love to conquer our drive to command. But when Max learns the secrets of my past, and attempts to heal my scars, I don’t know if I’ll be able to still the battle…or fall willingly to my knees.
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AboutTheAuthor
USA Today Bestselling Author Jenna Jacob's erotic romance comes from the heart of submission. With over twenty years’ experience in the dynamics of the BDSM lifestyle, Jenna strives to portray Dominance and submission with a passionate and comprehensive voice. Her stories will make you laugh, cry, and may leave you with a better understanding of the fulfillment found in the BDSM power exchange.
A married mom of four grown children, Jenna and her husband lives in Kansas. Her passions include her family, reading, camping, cooking, music, and riding Harleys. She loves to make people laugh with her outgoing and warped sense of humor. If you're looking for hot romance with a kinky twist, pick up one of Jenna's books.
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Sunday, April 16, 2017

Adopting Katie and A Rose in Bloom by Allysa Hart




Allysa Hart is making her journey into the Indie Author World with the re-release of her two books, Adopting Katie and A Rose in Bloom. 



Sneak Peek...

“It’s been a long time since this naughty bottom has been over my knee. I think it forgot what happens when it ends up here.” “No! It’s not a naughty bottom. See how white it is? It’s a good bottom!” Rose shook her head, “Oh baby, you just issued a challenge that no Dom would ever ignore.” “No! It’s not a challenge! It's not. Lemme go!” Her feet scissored helplessly in the air before they were trapped under Keith’s strong leg. There was no pleasure or ‘adult’ stimulation when Keith spanked Katie. Their relationship was purely familial, so when she was sent over her uncle’s knee, she was a little girl to him and nothing more. “Hmm, I wonder how long it would take to turn your bottom to the same color as these pants. What do you think, Rose?” “Her pajamas are pink and I thought you hated the color pink. Can't you do better than that?” She coaxed. Katie could tell that they were teasing, but she also knew that once in this position, there was no escape without a hot bottom. Keith’s hand had the ability to set a fire hot enough to cause a naughty little girl to fall asleep on her belly. “Let’s see how many licks it takes to get to the center of a naughty girl’s attitude.” “No! I’m not a tootsie pop!” “One.” The sound of the smack reverberated through the room. “Ow! I’ll go to bed!” 




Sneak Peek...

We're going back to being Keith and Rose. Husband and wife. Dominant and submissive. We're going to reclaim this relationship before there is nothing left to salvage.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. Rose was a strong independent woman. She had her own thoughts and opinions and was not afraid to share them when necessary. She loved to submit to her husband, and he knew she wouldn’t want their relationship any other way, but even if it led to punishment, she never failed to make herself heard. Her silence was enough to assure him that she was in agreement. His next strikes landed lighter than the first few. Not having been spanked in a while, the skin was already turning pink. A long steady session would help her to unwind. Harsh discipline would get her to break to the place she needed to be, which would build her back into the woman he knew and loved as he held her snugly and securely. He needed to bring her to tears, but that would come later. He had time—and the spoon. Rose wiggled on his lap as his hand began to fall harder and harder. Lengthening the time between swats, he let each settle before laying the next one down. There was no pattern and no cadence. It was as if each swat existed all on its own with no memory of what came before and no guide as to what was coming next. The pink transformed, turning to a brilliant shade of red. With that, the wiggling grew increasingly desperate, but she still didn't voice any objections. Keith rubbed her back as he picked up the spoon. “This could have been over if you would have obeyed, my love. But since you didn’t, I’m going to use this spoon to bring some much-needed tears to the surface. You know this needs to be done for both our sakes.” Her little whimper made him smile. 

Meet Allysa Hart
I am a full-time mom to a sassy, strong-willed, loveable little girl. Okay, so she is all me. I am on the wrong side of 30, and I have been married to my best friend for over eight years. Like most couples, we have our ups and downs, but I could not imagine doing life with anyone else by my side. We are Southern California transplants, currently residing in a very rural part of the east coast. I have two crazy dogs that I adore, even though they drive me out of my ever-loving mind, most days.
I have recently rediscovered my love of words and decided to become a writer. My first story is my heart and soul, and it reaches into the depths of all that is me. I also create covers, promos, and logos for authors. I have met some amazing friends on this journey that I now happily call family. Without my family members, whether biological or chosen, I would not be half the person I am today. Their constant love and support keep me afloat.

The Unbreakable Connection


Purchase: Amazon
With dog sledding in her blood, Marie Matthews swears that she’ll never race again. Trapped by the same nightmare that haunts her nightly after a horrifying accident, Marie turns to her Great Grandmother for support and guidance. Finally, after months of agony and indecision, Marie believes she’s ready to get back on the snow. But her best friend and trusty racing partner won’t budge. She’s forced to call in reinforcements, and the renowned Dog Whisperer, Alex King, knows exactly what is holding her back–and it’s not the dog. With the race looming, can Alex help Marie conquer her fears to grant her Great Grandmother’s final dying wish?

About Stephi Hart

Stephi Hart is a YA romance author who lives in Ohio. She started writing when she was just nine years old. Even before that, she made up stories about her imaginary friends and all the adventures they had. When she was thirteen years old she signed up for a homeschool writing class. That’s where the passion for writing took hold of her. She just kept writing and writing. It didn’t take her long after that to realize that her passion for writing was a blessing that she longed to share with others.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Resurrecting Hope by Jane Anthony Cover Reveal

Title: Resurrecting Hope
Author: Jane Anthony
Genre: Contemporary Romance (with Dark Elements)
Release Date: May 1, 2017 Cover Designer: Cover Me Darling Photographer: Sean Archer

~Hope~
I’m broken.
I’m hiding.
I’m not the woman he claims he loves.
Hope Moon is a figment, a fairy tale. A single mom with sunny smiles on the outside, but whose pitch-black insides are riddled with demons.
I can’t look him in the face, can’t tell him who I am.
If I let my guard down, Jack will find me.
Jack’s wrath left me bound in hell. 
Can Hank’s love set me free?
~Hank~
I’ve been hurt. 
I’ve been used. 
I’ve been betrayed.
But Hank Lawless isn’t a man to be trifled with. 
Hope Moon has caught me like a fly in a web. Her gaze is haunted, her moves calculated. There’s more to the dark haired beauty than meets the eye. She’s hiding something. 
I need to find a way to break down her defenses.
I vowed to walk beside her through her own personal hell.
But is my love enough to free her from it? 
**This book contains mature content and is meant for adults 18+. It contains a trigger warning for graphic scenes of domestic violence and rape. It’s a story about second chances, and overcoming your shattered past by any means necessary. Please take this into account before reading.**

Resurrecting Hope
Exclusive Excerpt
Copyright © Jane Anthony 2017
All rights reserved
“Hello?”
A deep, Southern drawl bounced off the walls of my empty house. Actually, let me rephrase. It was more of a shack, really. A hovel. Termites holding hands. Four walls, a floor, and a ceiling with nothing but cracks—but it was mine. Paid for with my own blood, sweat, and tears. The only thing I’d wanted since the moment I settled into life with Jack.
Just saying his name makes me shudder. He was so sweet when we first met. The perfect gentleman—opening doors, bringing flowers—but everything changed the moment he slid that tiny band of gold onto my finger. He became tyrannical. Nothing I did was good enough. He dictated everything from my clothes to my hair to the places we went. He didn’t want a wife. He wanted a love slave, one he could kick around.
Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Everything I owned was in Jack’s name. He claimed it was better that way, but now I know it was just his way of keeping control. I escaped from his grasp by the skin of my teeth with nothing but the clothes on my back and the money I had stolen. I changed my name, my appearance, and my life. Rebecca Benedetti no longer exists.
My name is Hope. And little did I know, this would be the day my life would change forever.
“Ms. Moon, are you home?” the rich baritone called again.
“Yeah!” I called back, wiping the fresh tears from my cheeks. Sometimes, I still feel him. His face rolls through my mind, his words washing over me, telling me when I’ve been a good girl. He’s no good for me. He hurt me. And after everything he put me through, I can’t understand why I still love him. “I’m in the laundry room! Hold on I’ll be right—”
The pocket door slid open before I had a chance to finish, and I startled. I wasn’t expecting the handyman for another hour. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Moon. I didn’t mean to, er, interrupt. The door was open, and …”
Wrinkles formed on his forehead as he rubbed his masculine hands against it, avoiding eye contact. He caught me in a precarious situation. Not only was I sobbing my eyes out, but I was also wearing nothing but a bra and shorts.
Southern summers are hot as Hades, and my new home didn’t come with air conditioning. That was part of the reason I called him. The house needed a ton of work, and his ad on Craigslist promised great service at a reasonable price. Nowhere in the article did it mention he was gorgeous. Well over six feet of solid muscle, he made the tiny room seem minuscule by comparison.
When I didn’t respond, his gaze fell on mine. His eyes were intense—the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in—and I found myself plummeting into their deep blue depths without warning. “Are you okay?” He took a step forward, and reaching for the toilet paper, he pulled off a length of it to dry my tears. “Here,” he added, grazing the cottony soft tissue across my cheek. “All better.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I replied with a sniffle and my best attempt at a smile.
“No, miss. I’m the one who’s embarrassed. I just helped myself to your house, and here you are…” His searing gaze raking over my body reminded me I’m not wearing a shirt. His sudden presence jumbled every thought in my head. He was a divine creature, full of ink, shrouded in darkness. “I’ll just wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Wait.” My pathetic demand slowed his pace, and he turned back around. A hint of lust flashed in his eyes. He didn’t want to look, this I knew, but he couldn’t help himself. My body was long and lean from spending hours in the gym. My breasts, previously enlarged at Jack’s request, were round and taut, rising out of the cups of my bra with each deep, ragged breath I took.
I don’t know why I did it. Perhaps it had been so long since I felt a man’s touch on my body. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes devouring my flesh, the feeling of being wanted instead of owned. To this day, I still don’t know, but I’ll never forget the hunger in his gaze when my hands slipped behind my back and tugged at the tiny row of hooks keeping my chest contained.
The lacy material fluttered to the floor between us. He looked down at it, then back at me. “Ms. Moon, I—”
“Shhh. Don’t speak. Just help me forget.”
I didn’t even know his name, but I didn’t need to. The only thing I needed from him was to ease the pain. To soothe the aching in my chest and between my thighs and remind me how a woman should feel. To make me new, completely and utterly.
His tongue slid across his bottom lip; I suppose to contemplate his next move. I took a tentative step. He met me halfway and continued moving until my back hit the wall. The heat between us radiated. Having him this close set me ablaze. Not just from the sweltering temperature, but from the desire I felt rippling off his body.
 A whisper of a kiss, soft and sensual. A large palm touched my cheek, the other gripped my ass, pulling me against him. His tongue swept across my lips then slipped between them. It ignited the spark; a brilliant flash that burst into flames, engulfing me like a brush fire.
My hands found their way under his shirt. The hard planes of his abs contracted under my fingers as they traveled along his torso. With one swift move, he yanked the collar of his shirt over his head. Ribbons of ink covered his tanned skin almost entirely. I ran my hands over them, following with my mouth as his fingers tangled in my hair.
Rough. His hands were rough, both in feel and movement. When he dropped them under my ass and hoisted me in the air, my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I slipped my hand between us and opened his fly. His jeans fell to the floor and pooled onto his thick, black work boots. Hardness pressed against my throbbing core. What felt like nine inches of rock-hard steel taunting me with each swivel of his hips. I couldn’t wait anymore. The need coursing through my body was a tidal wave threatening to drown me. I had to feel him inside me.
Calloused fingers slipped inside my shorts, and I felt his lips curve into a grin against my neck. “Damn, girl,” he growled as they slid inside me down to the knuckle.
A breathy moan floated to the ceiling as my head fell against the wall. “I don’t want your hand. I want your cock.” My lips said one thing, but my hips bucked against his palm as his fingers fucked me deeper still.
“You’re a naughty little kitten, ain’t ya?” he rumbled as his thumb circled my aching clit. “Lemme hear that kitty purr.”
A keening cry tore from my lungs. My body fell limp, but his strong arms caught me, keeping me tethered to the wall. “These are in my way.” He tore at my shorts, shredding the thin cotton material in his large hand while I pushed at his boxer briefs with my feet.
With delicious brute force, he slid himself inside me, balls deep. Lightning flashed behind my lids. I groaned as his hips began to move, slamming into me hard. “Is this what you want?”
My only response was a resounding pleasure-filled moan. He plunged himself fast and free, grunting each time our bodies met. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Come on my cock.”
A storm swirled in my gut, whirling and twirling until waves of pleasure crashed over me. “Oh-oh-oh!” I cried. His fingers bit into my ass cheeks, pulling me closer as he rammed into my body and another orgasm surged through me, pulling him along with it. Rolling thunder rumbled from his chest. Blasts of hot cum filled my insides.
The maniacal thrusting of his hips slowed to a less brutal pace. Deep breaths skittered across my lips as his face lifted to meet mine, and our mouths grazed again, softly, sweetly.
I never thought I’d see him again …
Jane Anthony is a romance author, fist pumping Jersey-girl, and hard rock enthusiast. She resides in the ‘burbs of New Jersey with her husband and children. A lover of Halloween, vintage cars, & coffee, she’s also a cornucopia of useless 80’s knowledge and trivia. When not writing, she’s an avid reader, concert goer, and party planner extraordinaire.
Jane loves hearing from her readers! Connect with her on these social media sites, and don’t be too shy to say hello!
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