Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Available Now: One Night in Sidney by Jan Graham

City Nights, #26
Jan Graham

Length: Novella
Genre: Erotic Romance

Price: $2.99 (99c/99p through 2 October)


Abigail Devon is all about business, until the dream of keeping her company alive fails and she finds herself seeking distraction in the arms of a tempting stranger she met on the plane. Kane Matheson is a man like no other, and once Abby gives into her attraction to him, passions spark and a night of erotic pleasure begins.

Kane can’t believe his luck when his flight to Sydney places Abby along his path to a fun filled weekend. She’s his kind of woman—business minded, clever, and with curves in all the right places. When he discovers they have more in common than savvy business expertise and undeniable sexual heat, he’s faced with a daunting choice, and left wondering if pleasure can win out over wise business sense in one of the most beautiful harbour side cities of the world.

• • •

“You know, if you like, we could hang out together in the city for a bit, maybe when you’ve finished your busy day.” Kane didn’t look at her this time; speaking from his reclined position, head tilted back against the rest with his eyes closed. “I only have to try on a suit and then I’m done for the day. You could meet me there, let me know if you think I look okay, you know, thumbs up or down, and then we could grab a bite… or something. Whatever takes your fancy, beautiful.”

He raised his lids and angled himself slightly to look at her for the final part of his statement, the wicked expression and cheeky glint in his eyes giving Abby the distinct impression he hoped that he’d be the something that took her fancy. He did. But it couldn’t happen.

Abby didn’t believe in love at first sight, but she did believe in lust at first sight and Kane ticked all her boxes. Feeling breathless, hardened nipples, feeling flushed when they touched, and that increasing ache between her legs. Luckily the flight was a short one, so she’d be able to escape him soon enough. In her party days they probably would have been in the bathroom, reaffirming her membership in the mile-high club, but those days were behind her. She doubted she’d renew that membership again any time soon.

“I really don’t think that’s possible. But thanks for the offer.” She wondered if he knew she was lying. Of course it was possible, all she had to do was say yes. She merely chose not to.

“That’s a shame. I have this feeling we’d get along really well.” He tore the edge off the bottom of a page in his magazine, grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket, scribbled a number on it and handed it to her. “In case you change your mind.”

Abby laughed and stared at the mobile number in her hand. He certainly was persistent.

“I assume you’ve run out of business cards?” She continued to chuckle as the plane began its descent. “You did say you understood business, right?”

“I did. I also said I was on a pleasure trip. I’ve left all business accessories at the office. This weekend, I’m just a regular guy who uses any piece of paper on hand to give the woman he likes his number.”

Oh Lord, thank heavens the plane had just touched down. She folded the paper, slipped her fingers into the front of her shirt and tucked the number into her bra. It was a mistake to put it there, and Abby knew it the moment her gaze met Kane’s, who was now standing waiting for her to step out into the aisle.

“What?” she asked innocently as Kane stared down at her cleavage with a devilish grin on his face. “It’s just a silly habit I picked up in my partying days. I’d pop anything important in my bra and that way I wouldn’t lose it.”

Grabbing her handbag from the floor, she stood and moved to walk out into the aisle but Kane blocked her way. His body forming a human wall as he retrieved her bag from the overhead cabin. Luggage sorted, Kane didn’t move, fixing her in place with his heated gaze.

“I’m glad you think I’m important.” His devilish grin didn’t waver and he spoke in a tone laced with lust. “I’m also delighted to know that when you take off your clothes tonight and get naked, you’ll be thinking about me.”

She was about to burst into flames. Abby raised her hand, placing it on his chest with the intention of pushing him back, only to find her fingers lingered on the defined muscle beneath her touch.
“We’ll see,” she whispered.

Kane placed his hand over hers, gently gripped her fingers and raised them to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles tenderly and smiled. “We will. Now off to your very busy business day, Abigail Devon.” Stepping back, Kane handed over her bag before ushering her into the aisle. “I look forward to receiving your call later today.”

Unsure how she made it to the plane’s exit on trembling legs, Abby breathed a sigh of relief once she made it into the terminal. Allowing the disembarking crowd to carry her forward, she picked up her pace. The more distance she put between Kane Matheson and herself, the better. Today was all about saving her company, not indulging in a quickie with a man she met on a plane.

• • •

Jan Graham is an author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense; all her writing is erotic, some of which includes BDSM elements. She has numerous published titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of procrastination.

Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads, feeds her Netflix addiction, and drinks coffee with friends.

For those who enjoy labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a blogger, a submissive, an aunt, dyslexic, a lover of all things erotic, naughty, a participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and a member of The Australian Sex Party (no it’s nothing kinky, they are a legit political group).

In short, she is generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center.

You can find out more about Jan and her work by stalking her on the various social media sites where she occasionally hangs out.

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Wednesday, 21 September 2016

Available Now: Running Man by Jennifer Young

Lake Garda Series, #3
Jennifer Young

Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Price: $4.99 (99c/99p through 25 September)


At 21, Giorgia Manfredi is a wealthy Cinderella in a golden cage. Trapped in her family's business — a luxury hotel on Italy's Lake Garda — she yearns for a normal life. When jogger Danny Davies rescues her from a mugging, Giorgia finds that love comes at a price, bringing with it hostility, deceit — and conflict. Can she forgive those she loves and find happiness with the man who’s stolen her heart?

• • •

He jogged, not too fast, back round the corner. She was still there and someone else was with her, a man with his arm around her. Slowing as he approached them, he saw her white, shocked face, and read the man’s expression of concern as they looked towards him.

‘Oh,’ she said, in a voice that pulsed with gratitude, ‘you got my bag!’

‘Did you catch him?’ demanded the man, in a quick, harsh tone. His arm tightened protectively around the girl.

Danny shook his head. It wasn’t a lie; Will had stopped and given himself up. ‘He threw the bag away.’ At least that bit was true. He held them out — the bag, the purse, the phone. ‘These, too. Is there anything else missing?’ Because if there is, I’ll get it back.

She opened the bag and peered inside, flipped up the flap of her purse. In the half-light he could see that she wasn’t short of money. For God’s sake, she should just have got a taxi and spared them all. It didn’t look as if she had to make decisions about how she spent her cash.

‘It’s all here.’ She looked up at him. ‘I forgot my manners. Thank you so much for that.’

She wasn’t a pretty girl, or he hadn’t thought so. His first impression had been one of an angular face, harsh cheekbones accentuated by fear and distorted by shadow. But she smiled, and a second look made him catch his breath. Nobody — surely nobody — had a smile that lit up their face like that. ‘It’s okay. I wish I could have done more.’ Though quite what more someone like him could have done for someone like her was beyond his comprehension.

‘I want to thank you. I…’ Her fingers hovered uncertainly over her purse as if she were deciding whether she’d insult him by offering a reward.

He spared her the decision, raising his hand and stepping back. ‘I didn’t do anything. I was just out for a run. It was just chance.’

‘But you didn’t have to go after him. He might have been violent. You might have got hurt. What’s your name?’

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. It only matters that you aren’t hurt.’ And then, before they could think of insisting that he tell them his name, dragging him in as a witness and tying him into the elephant traps of the justice system and the inconvenience of being good, he turned his back. ‘I’ll be on my way.’

‘Thank you,’ she called after him, and he didn’t answer. And as he ran, he heard the man’s voice. ‘Come on, Giorgia. Let’s get you home and call the police.’

He was well out of that. Best just to hope they never came looking for him, that they took his act of charity at face value and left him in peace.

More tired than he’d thought, he nevertheless put in an extra few hundred metres to give Will time to get out of his way before going home. A pretty girl, after all. And a beautiful name. Giorgia. He ran it around in his head a couple of times, wondering if he’d go through the rest of his life associating that name with those eyes, with that smile, whether he’d forget her soon enough, or whether any subsequent Giorgia he might meet would disappoint him by the comparison.

One thing was certain. He didn’t know who the man was that she was with, but if he was her boyfriend he wasn’t looking after her. Putting your arm around her after the event was worse than useless; he should have been there when she needed him. If she was Danny’s girl, he’d never have let it happen, never have left her side.

But she wasn’t, and never could be, his girl.

• • •

Jennifer Young is an Edinburgh-based writer, editor and copywriter. She is interested in a wide range of subjects and writing media, perhaps reflecting the fact that she has both arts and science degrees. Jennifer has been writing fiction, including romantic fiction, for a number of years with several short stories already published. Thanks You For The Music, which is set on the Balearic island of Majorca, is her first published novel.

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Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Available Now: Where the Heart Is by Jennie Marsland

Choices of the Heart Series, #1
Jennie Marsland

Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance

Price: $3.99 (99c/99p through 11 September)


When Rochelle McShannon moves with her father from Morgan County, Georgia to the Yorkshire Dales, she thinks she’s leaving behind everything that matters to her. Her mother has passed away, her twin brother is going west to avoid the looming Civil War, and her family’s unpopular views on slavery and secession have destroyed her relationship with the man she hoped to marry. If returning to her father's childhood home eases his grief, Chelle asks for nothing more.

Martin Rainnie understands grief. Since the loss of his wife in childbirth, he’s known little else, except anger. He’s retreated to his farm and turned his back on the world, including his baby daughter, who’s being fostered by Chelle’s relatives. With little Leah drawing them together, Martin begins to wonder if he can love again – and convince Chelle to do the same.

But the war overseas has far-reaching consequences, even in a small English village. Can Martin and Chelle overcome danger, loss, and bitterness to make a home where the heart is?

• • •

As she bent to set the lamb on its feet, a dog’s bark startled her. Still crouching, Chelle spun around and faced a grizzled black and white collie, standing a few feet away with its teeth bared and hackles raised. Luckily, the dog’s owner stood close by. Heart in her throat, Chelle released the lamb and slowly raised her gaze from a pair of heavy boots to eyes the color of a stormy sea.

“Come, Gyp.”

The dog returned to his master’s side at the curt command. Chelle stood, blushing under the man’s cool stare.

He’d be at least six feet tall, perhaps taller, bulky and solid. He reminded her of Charlie Bascomb at home, broad in the shoulders, thick in the legs and torso, but the resemblance stopped there. Charlie was quiet and easy-going, always wearing a smile, but there was nothing approachable about this man with his lowering brows, grim mouth and rust-colored hair. His resemblance to Leah told Chelle who he must be.

“Hello. I’m Rochelle McShannon. Are you Martin Rainnie?”

The collie stood braced beside his master, the fur still standing up on the back of his neck. Mr. Rainnie looked no more welcoming. He spoke to Chelle as curtly as he had to his dog. “Aye. What are you doing out here?”

It seemed Jean had done the man a favor by saying little about him. Chelle lifted her chin and showed him her bleeding hand. “That’s obvious enough, isn’t it? That lamb’s fleece was caught in this bush. I freed it.”

Mr. Rainnie looked her up and down with those cold gray-green eyes, then softened his tone and made an effort to curb his broad Yorkshire. Likely he’d recalled that his daughter was living with her family.

“So you’re Jack’s niece. I didn’t know you’d arrived yet.”

“We arrived yesterday.” Chelle fished a clean handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wrapped it around her scratched hand while she fumbled for something to say. “I’ve been out for a walk to the top of the hill. The view is lovely.”

Mr. Rainnie’s mouth twisted in a sardonic grin as he stepped closer. “Aye, but it’s not very sustaining. Not much but sheep will grow up here.”

Chelle took in his well-worn clothes and large, work-roughened hands. Martin Rainnie’s face showed the effects of wind and weather, but she thought the lines around his mouth and eyes revealed bitterness. With the breeze plucking at the sleeves of his faded canvas jacket, he seemed as much a part of the landscape as the sheep and the moorland grass, and just as rugged.

“The village down there, is that Carston? Dad mentioned it.”

“Aye, that’s Carston.”

“I thought as much. I was on my way home when I decided to follow this trail and heard the lamb.”

Mr. Rainnie shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You could have spared yourself the trouble. This is my flock, and I check on ‘em every day. You’d better get home and take care of those scratches.” With that, he strode past her toward the sheep, his dog at his heels.

Chelle watched him go, his shoulders high, his broad back stiff with annoyance. Because I rescued one of his silly sheep? She turned on her heel and started back toward the village, muttering under her breath. “I’m sorry for your daughter, Mr. Rainnie. As for me, the next time I find one of your animals in trouble, I’ll be leaving it alone.”

• • •

Jennie Marsland lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Canada’s beautiful East Coast. She has had a lifelong love affair with words and history, starting with her family’s stories of life in Nova Scotia in earlier times. Jennie teaches English, science and history at a local private school, and when she isn’t writing, spends her free time cooking, gardening, playing guitar, and catering to the whims of her two very spoiled Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retrievers.

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