Tuesday, February 27, 2018

ENTER BELLE SCARLETT’S BIRTHDAY #GIVEAWAY ~ $50 #AMAZONGIFTCARD

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Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Naughty Spice Contest Winner!

Congratulations  to Denise from Burbank on winning the Kindle Fire loaded with  books by the Naughty Literati authors.

Our sincere thanks to all who  entered and helped us celebrate the release of Naughty Spice.
Happy reading!

Sunday, February 18, 2018

A Fortune To Win: A Romance Miiseries by Suz deMello (#romance #miniseries)


Drug addicts Harvey, Lord Darlingside, and his supermodel wife, Mara, died by drowning in the Trevi Fountain while on a heroin binge. In a previous rare moment of sobriety, Harvey created a trust for their three children with a peculiar stipulation designed to ensure none would go his way: each must demonstrate maturity by making a substantial non-monetary contribution to others.

A Fortune To Win is the story of the Darlingside heirs' journey to love and their legacies.

Will Alice break through her emotional shell to find love?

Can supermodel Sophie survive repeated attacks from someone who seems bent upon her death?

Alcoholic Peter is accused of murder...can he get his head out of the bottle long enough to beat the charge and maintain his freedom?

PLUS A SPECIAL HISTORICAL PREQUEL!

Here's a snippet to pique your interest...from Peter's Story:


Prologue


LORD DARLINGSIDE AND WIFE MARA FOUND DEAD

DRUG OVERDOSE SUSPECTED

[ROME] The jetsetting couple known as ‘Marvey,’ Harvey Fortune, Lord Darlingside and his supermodel wife Mara Tove, were found at three a.m. today (local time) drowned in the historic Trevi Fountain. An autopsy is planned, which many fear will confirm the initial assumption that the couple’s known heroin addiction caused their deaths. Reportedly, used syringes were found on the fountain’s marble balustrade… They leave three adult children: Peter, age 26, the new Earl Darlingside; daughter Alice, 23, a teacher; Sophia, 19, a model.

one week later

CONTENTS OF ‘MARVEY’ WILL REVEALED

LONDON] …Though the Fortune family solicitor, Rabbie White of White, Cheshire and Queen (Lincolns Inn Fields) remains closemouthed, an unidentified source close to the family states that the Fortune fortune, encompassing a manor house in Kent, a mansion in Hampstead, and invested monies totaling some 50 million pounds, will be divided between ‘Marvey’s’ children. However, the ‘Marvey’ trust requires the heirs make a substantial non-monetary contribution to society. Whether each child’s acts are sufficient to inherit is a decision left solely to White’s discretion. Apparently Lord and Lady Darlingside wanted to ensure that their progeny did not follow the same dangerous path they trod…

...eighteen months later...



Chapter One


One cool, bright summer morning, Peter Fortune, Earl Darlingside, awakened in a big, four-poster bed covered with a fluffy white duvet with a woman beside him. She was dead.

Until that moment, he’d been doing quite well, thank you very much, considering that he’d spent the night before drinking Remy Martin Black Pearl with a number of equally dissolute young noblemen and getting drunk as, well, drunk as lords. He should have had a throbbing head, unclear eyesight and a belly that pitched like bloody hell, but he felt great. And, given that he’d won rather than lost betting on billiards was another point in favor of the day.

Which was, he remembered blearily, Monday, perhaps? Or maybe Tuesday. Did it matter?

The window was open to the Hampstead sunshine and also admitted birdsong. Every once in a while he heard the sound of a distant siren, reminding him of...of…?

Oh yes, the dead girl.

Melanie.

He supposed he ought to call 9-9-9 and get an ambulance, though judging by her total lack of movement and warmth, the authorities would get to her too late. Far too late.

He rolled to the side, reaching for the bedside table where his mobile reposed. Something jabbed his arse, and he threw back the sheet to find a used syringe. A needlestick from an addict’s rig. Oh, shite, I’m fucked. He grabbed the thing and flung it across the room, then called for help.

*****

She’d been called Foxy Roxy for as long as she could remember, but she hadn’t embraced the nickname until her fifteenth birthday. That day she’d visited a charity shop with friends. One had spotted an old fox stole on a mannequin and bought it for Roxanne Fox as a gift. She’d worn that fox pelt around her neck on cool days until it had fallen apart, then bought another and then another. Only from the charity shops, though—she wouldn’t be directly responsible for the death of an innocent animal. Later she’d found a source for high-quality fakes, which fit her vegan habits far better.

This morning, she was nibbling a gluten-free currant scone slathered with soya cream cheese whilst enjoying her second flat white of the day (made with soya of course), reading a fairly interesting case file about a fellow who had been recorded by the many CCTVs roundabout London. Unfortunately for the client, he’d been taped with his zip open whilst fondling an impressive erection. Even less fortunately, the Crown was not amenable to letting the incident go by even though he claimed he’d been “pissed legless.”

Roxanne’s secretary stuck her head into the open doorway, her eyes round. “That prat Darlingside has gotten himself arrested again.”

“Oh, happy day.” Roxy wiped her mouth with a hanky. “What is it this time? Dead drunk? Car crash?”

“No, it’s more serious. Unless someone’s having a go at us.”

“Not chundering onto some poor copper’s shoes?” That had been a memorable case.

“No, murder.”

Roxy sat up straighter. She’d been White, Cheshire and Queen’s criminal defense specialist for four years, having left the Crown Prosecution Service to pursue more lucrative options. At WCQ, she’d had the opportunity to sample a more varied menu of cases than she’d expected. Along with the anticipated tax avoidance schemes and family squabbles regarding bequests—which occasionally devolved into wine-throwing and fistfights—a prominent client occasionally committed the odd sexual peccadillo, like the fellow diddling his dong in Notting Hill.

And then there was Peter Fortune, the Earl of Darlingside, who seemed intent upon imitating his parents’ strikingly self-destructive ways.

Bless him—he’d brought her a case she could really sink her teeth into. “Where’s he being held?”

Like what you read? GET IT HERE:







Sunday, February 11, 2018

An excerpt from “Sappho’s Sisters” by Berengaria Brown. Part of the “Naughty Spice: 17 Lusty Love Stories” boxed set



If you haven’t tried Lesbian romance before see what Lizabeth Tucker said about “Sappho’s Sisters”: “Lesbian stories are not usually on my TBR list. If they were all this well-written, I might reconsider that. Four stars” ~ Lizabeth Tucker

Blurb: “Sappho’s Sisters”.
Lady Eustacia Lumley is the only child of the Earl of Wentworth. It’s her duty to marry well and ensure the succession.
Margaret Durrell is the fourth daughter of a gently born, but near penniless Vicar. She has no option but to marry a man who can provide for her and possibly for some of her sisters as well.
They fall deeply in love, but is there any hope for them? Or will they both have to conform to the rigid rules of Regency society?


Excerpt: “Sappho’s Sisters”.
That evening, the women settled into a comfortable sofa in front of the fire in the yellow sitting room at Green Meadows with their embroidery.
“It’s good to be home again,” said Eustacia. “I like the hustle and bustle of Town, and shopping and parties are always fun, but I prefer to come home and sleep in my own bed.”
“Thank you once again for inviting me to stay with you for three months. Poor Papa is at his wits’ end wondering what to do about us all. Now that I’ve turned eighteen, he’s suddenly realized that Anne is very nearly twenty-two and time is running out to find her a good husband.”
“Four children in four years. Ugh. That’s one aspect of marriage I have never accepted—a baby every year.”
“No. I find that concept unappealing too. In fact, I find most men unappealing—selfish, arrogant, and quite often, silly. So many of the notables I danced with at Almack’s could not think past their clothes and their horses. They all either owned, or would inherit, property. Shouldn’t they be thinking about their lands and the needs of their tenants? Papa is always concerned about the lives of his parishioners.”
“Maybe they thought they shouldn’t talk about such things with a young woman.”
“Possibly.” Margaret did not sound convinced.
“Do you not want a husband and children of your own?”
“What I want is irrelevant. Papa can’t keep supporting us all, and what else is there for a woman who’s noble-born but impoverished? I’ve thought seriously about becoming a teacher or governess, but families wanting a governess usually also have sons, so they won’t hire a young woman like me. I could be a companion to an old lady. I can sing, and draw, and sew, as well as speak passable French. But I suspect agreeable old ladies wanting a companion are few and far between, and I’m much more likely to end up with a most disagreeable old lady.”
They both laughed, and then turned the conversation to happier topics.
Much later that evening, Eustacia noticed Margaret screwing up her eyes and frowning. “What’s wrong, Margaret?”
“I have the headache. I seem to get it more and more often these evenings. I don’t understand why. The light here is good for sewing, much better than at home. Good wax candles are so much more expensive than tallow,” she said and sighed.
“It’s almost time to go up to our chambers anyway. Would you like me to come and massage your head? My nurse used to massage mine and it really helps.”
“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.”
They put away their embroidery and walked companionably up the stairs together. Eustacia’s maid was waiting for her and soon Eustacia was in her night rail and robe, her hair brushed out. She dismissed the maid before walking down the hall to Margaret’s room. Margaret, who had no maid, was just tying her robe.
“Sit at your dressing table and let me undo your hair,” Eustacia said.
Slowly, she pulled out the pins and untwisted the braid. Margaret’s long, shiny brown hair rippled across her shoulders and down her back. Eustacia picked up Margaret’s hairbrush and drew it through the thick, wavy hair, pulling carefully and steadily from root to end in smooth sweeps.
“That does feel good. I can remember when my nanny used to brush my hair. I always enjoyed it.”
“I want you to enjoy this, too,” Eustacia whispered, letting her hot breath tickle Margaret’s left ear as she kept up the smooth strokes with the hairbrush. From front to back, from root to tip, Eustacia drew the brush through the hair in firm but gently soothing sweeps.
Margaret’s eyes closed and her shoulders relaxed some of their tension.
Eustacia noticed this, nodded to herself, and put down the brush, replacing it with her fingers as she pressed against Margaret’s scalp and began her massaging. First she rubbed in deep circles, beginning at the left ear and working her way across Margaret’s head to the right ear. Then she moved to the front of Margaret’s head, massaging deeply, pressing her fingers firmly against Margaret’s scalp, kneading from front to back this time.
By the time she’d finished, she could tell Margaret was much more relaxed, her shoulders no longer tense, her brow no longer furrowed.
Eustacia bent and pressed her lips to Margaret’s still-exposed neck, kissing it with soft, light, butterfly kisses from left to right across her neck, ending at her right ear, which she gently sucked into her mouth and nibbled on. Eustacia blew into that ear, then began to kiss her way across to the other side and repeated her caress on the other ear.
“Mmm, feels so good.”
Eustacia let her hands rest on Margaret’s shoulders, rubbing them softly, then more firmly, soothing and stroking down to the elbows, and then back up again.
Margaret’s eyes were closed, her breath coming more harshly, her body totally relaxed in Eustacia’s hands.
Eustacia rested her palms on Margaret’s sides, and when Margaret made no move to complain, she ran them up to cup the younger woman’s breasts. Margaret’s nipples were hard little points under the soft velvet of her robe. Eustacia pushed the robe apart so she could touch Margaret’s breasts through the thin linen of her night rail. The breasts were full and round, her nipples now engorged, and just touching them made cream seep from Eustacia’s cunny.
“Take off your night rail. Let me see you naked.”
“You first.”



Naughty is the new NICE! Order your preorder or paperback of Naughty Spice today! #NaughtyLiterati #romance #menage #newrelease

Naughty Spice Kindle Preorder: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078XCP2HB
Naughty Spice in Print: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1983472433
Amazon: http://a.co/1BfGSBz
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble. com/w/naughty-spice-francesca- hawley/1127757320?ean=2940155437048
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ ebook/naughty-spice-2

Berengaria Brown

Friday, February 9, 2018

Tuesday Morning is the Best Time to Arrive in Havana by Suz deMello (#NaughtySpice @naughtyLiterati #CubaTravel)


Here’s a little about Suz’s story that's in Naughty Spice, One Hot Havana Night, and how she came to write it.

Tuesday Morning is the Best Time to Arrive in Havana 


I travel as much as I can, not just for inspiration but for engagement. When I'm unhappy, the best way for me to get away from the source of my distress is to leave (duh). Additionally, when I travel, especially to someplace new, I'm deeply engaged in my life and have no mental space for worrying about whatever it was that was bothering me. When I don't know the language, don't know where I'm staying, don't know where I'll eat my next meal, I have a lot more to focus on rather than dwelling on my last unhappy love affair (usually my issue, alas).

And so it was with my 2015 trip out of the USA. After the president announced plans to open the USA's relationship with Cuba, I decided to travel there ASAP so as not to see Havana when its skyline would be dominated by the Starbucks mermaid and the Golden Arches.

But I really screwed this one up.

At that time, Cuba had no banking relationship with the USA. That means that you had to have money in hand before you left for Cuba, because your ATM card and credit card wouldn't work there. So I planned to go to Cancun, withdraw a bunch of money, and then fly to Cuba.

Unfortunately, I neglected to tell my bank, so when I started to withdraw money, I got maybe $400 and then...nada. Zip. Zero.

I emailed my bank to no avail.

I tried to phone, but neither my hotel phone nor my cellie would get through (Damn you, Virgin!)

So I landed in Cuba with maybe a quarter of the funds I needed to have a really good time, or even to eat three meals daily.

I told myself that this was a good time to lose weight.

I shared a taxi from the airport into Havana with a couple of Ukrainian dudes and immediately paid the host of my casa particular for the stay. Alex was extremely kind, allowing me the use of his computer so I wouldn't have to pay a hotel at their business center for internet access--I was trying desperately to make sure I'd have enough money for the next phase of my journey, which was Isla Mujeres.

Nevertheless, I still had a good time researching my story for the Naughty
Literati, One Hot Havana Night. I couldn't afford taxis, so I walked all over Havana Vieja, the tourist quarter, where I set my story. A friendly expat showed me a lunchroom where I could eat a huge meal for $1-2--so that's where I ate. It was pretty good food--a protein (eggs, chicken or meat) with a little salad, plus rice and beans--typical Cuban fare. I even had enough left over so I could go to a bar and get a drink while listening to the local music every night.

Havana was great, but it's nevertheless a tourist trap. It's just that the tourists aren't Americans. Lots of Europeans, especially Italians, and a number of Japanese.

I learned a lot. Most people seemed pretty contented. As for the economic system, while I heard someone complain that they work really hard for little money, I saw only one or two people who seemed to be badly off. Everyone else looked happy and well-fed, though not obese. I saw many of the famous classic American cars, but I saw a lot of new cars as well--Peugeots and Kias, Hyundais and even Benzes. I just didn't see newer American cars. That's because Cuba isn't isolated at all. It's just that we don't have an economic relationship with them. Other countries have been trading with Cuba quite happily.

Still, I can't say that the place is well run. The Castros seem to be good at getting and keeping power, and not so hot at using it. Many of the old, beautiful
buildings are crumbling, though I must say that they're making an effort to resurrect them. Many streets are dug up as improvements are being made. And this brings me to the title of this post.

So why is Tuesday morning the best time to arrive in Havana?

Because the trash is picked up Monday night, at least in the part of Havana where I stayed. Until then, it's thrown into giant Dumpsters by the locals. As you can imagine, the garbage gets pretty ripe in the tropical heat.

But Havana smells great on a Tuesday morning.

And here's a snippet of the story I wrote after visiting Havana. It's in Naughty Spice, the NL's latest!

Havana, 1958... On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had.

Guess what? It includes a sexy M/F/M ménage.

Here’s an excerpt to sharpen your appetite:

The big doors closed behind her with a click.

She turned to see Almonte leaning against them, eyeing her with predatory interest gleaming in his dark eyes. Her belly fluttered. She’d exposed corrupt union bosses and crooked politicians, but this was really the first time she’d played with the big boys. Organized crime was nothing to treat casually, and she’d thought she was ready.

Maybe not.

He stalked toward her. “Take that stupid thing off. It fools no one.” He tugged at her wig.

“Ow!” She put a hand up to her head to stop him. “My hair clashes dreadfully with my dress.”

“Then take off your dress.” He slid one long, dark finger along the curve of her
The Victor Hugo House, a place that inspired
part of Hot Havana Night
neck to her shoulder. The contact tingled in a way she hadn’t before experienced. “Strip for me.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide.

He laughed. “I thought you said anything for the story. You knew what would happen when you came up here. Shall we not pretend?”

She swallowed hard. How had she gotten into this predicament?

By being Hell on Wheels. Everyone thought she was brassy and bold. They had no idea she was still a virgin.

Like what you read? 
Here’s where you can score a copy:


Also available in print!


Thursday, February 8, 2018

An excerpt from “One Kinky Weekend” by Berengaria Brown. Part of the “Naughty Spice: 17 Lusty Love Stories” boxed set




Blurb: Logan and Zara have been married twenty years. Their sex life is boring. Dead boring. They love each other but they want more excitement in bed. The answer? Ask another couple to join them for a very dirty, smutty weekend of darkly naughty sex.
Wicked fantasies and forbidden desires are shared. Girl on girl action? Double penetration? Every dark craving comes vividly to life for an orgasmic weekend.



Excerpt:
“I was thinking about brightening up our sex life.”
His big body went still against hers and she could feel his muscles tensing up.
“Yes?”
“You meant it when you said we could try out some new things, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
His voice was firm but his body was still tense. She wrapped a leg around his hips, wiping her damp cunt along his upper thigh.
His big hands grabbed her ass and ground her pussy hard against him.
“What about a foursome? The two of us and another married couple. All four of us in bed together, everyone doing everyone, two men, two women, the four of us in a daisy chain, whatever we all want to try.”
He lifted her up slightly and slid her down on his cock. It filled her completely, stretching her tissues. “Hmm, someone likes that plan.”
She sat up a little, flicking her blonde hair off her face, pushing the bedding off her back, and braced her hands on his chest. Although his sandy-brown hair had a few gray threads in it these days, he was still a solid wall of muscles, as his daily gym routine had kept his body toned and fit. His nipples stood up under the tweaking of her fingers and his cock thrust up inside her, high, hard and longer than it had been a few moments ago.
She swiveled her hips so his cock scraped over her G-spot, then leaned forward to press her clit into Logan’s pelvis. His hips rose up under her, his thighs raising and lowering her, faster and faster, his hands tight on her hips.
“I do like that idea. We’ll have to choose the couple wisely though. It has to be people we’re compatible with and trust.”
“Condoms,” she gasped, her orgasm rising inside her as she wiggled her hips again. “Don’t want any worry about health risks.”
“Agreed.” He pinched her clit and rammed deep inside her. With a small scream, Zara shattered and came, her juices flooding Logan’s cock. He groaned and rammed into her again and again. Then a burst of hot cum blasted into her cunt as he stroked raggedly a couple more times before pulling her down on top of him.
“Excellent idea. You deserve a reward for thinking of it,” he whispered, thrusting a finger deep into her ass, and sucking her nipple and the entire areola into his mouth. His cock was still half hard inside her and he moved his hips enough to stimulate her pussy too as his finger pressed wickedly deep into her dark channel, the nail teasing every nerve ending there. His mouth was busy licking, sucking, nibbling her breasts, switching from side to side, adding a tiny bite here and there to tease her sensitive skin.
Zara felt another orgasm blooming in her core, hotter and harder than the previous one.
Logan redoubled his efforts, his hips pumping, his cock growing inside her, and three fingers now thrusting inside her ass.
“Yesssssss,” she sighed.
He bit down on a nipple as a fingernail dug into her clit.
She burst apart, her toes curling in the most delicious way as her body thrashed in spasms of delight.
“God, you’re good at that,” she murmured.
“Yup, well, I love you, honey.”



Naughty is the new NICE! Order your preorder or paperback of Naughty Spice today! #NaughtyLiterati #romance #menage #newrelease

Naughty Spice Kindle Preorder: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078XCP2HB
Naughty Spice in Print: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1983472433
Amazon: http://a.co/1BfGSBz
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble. com/w/naughty-spice-francesca- hawley/1127757320?ean=2940155437048
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ ebook/naughty-spice-2

Berengaria Brown



Tuesday, February 6, 2018

NAUGHTY SPICE - Available Now!

NAUGHTY SPICE: NAUGHTY IS THE NEW NICE!
Available Now!

Contains 17 Lusty Love Stories from bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati


Find it here:


Blurbs:
Teach Me To Dance ~ Francesca Hawley
Lady Lexa shares an evening of suggestive flirtation with the Duke of Kendrick. He wants to take her home, but they have unfinished business.

Prelude To A Most Unusual Marriage ~ Katherine Kingston
Guilty secrets torment widowed Elizabeth Fitzhugh. A Christmas visit to the Earl of Chisenholm offers redemption, if she can find the courage to grasp it.


Set Me On Fire ~ Berengaria Brown
Blair, Alex and Kurt meet in the stairwell of their office building during a fire drill. The building may not be burning, but they are, for each other.


Spontaneous Combustion ~ Nicole Austin
Maddy’s secret fantasies about Jake burn hotter than a wildfire but she’s not his type. With the help of his fellow firefighters, Jake intends to stoke the flames and prove to Maddy she’s the only one for him.

Love In The Air ~ Suz deMello
Jill's been curious about BDSM since reading Fifty Shades, and firefighter Zack is more than willing to scratch that itch for her.

Lady Esther's Lesbian Lover ~ Berengaria Brown
Lady Esther’s London season failed to find her a husband. She’d rather find a woman to love. But that’s impossible in Regency England. Or is it?

The Agreement ~ Francesca Hawley
Can the arranged marriage between Lord Thanos and Lady Zayna move in a new direction or will they remain perpetually at war?

Blast From The Past ~ Katherine Kingston
Lynn’s past relationship with Ryan wasn’t healthy, but when she meets him again after a long separation the old flames reignite. Can they have a more mature relationship now?

Spring Training ~ Suz deMello
A hot pitcher finds his secret desires fulfilled by a striking new trainer, who disciplines him in ways he’s only dreamed about.

Jewel's Menage Christmas ~ Berengaria Brown
The excitement has left Jewel, Donovan, and Oscar’s relationship. Jewel plans to spice things up, but will Donovan and Oscar rise to the challenge?


Shake it Up! ~ Francesca Hawley

After a mild quake in San Francisco, Allyson Rayburn gets stuck in the same elevator as Ross Morgan, the Dom who’d been at the other end of a flogger at a private club the night before. Her day just got interesting.

Disputed Boundaries (Stories from the San Juan Islands) ~ Regina Kammer
Garrison life along the disputed Canadian-U.S. border is so uneventful Royal Marine Braxton Thorne mostly just fools around with his fiancée Tilda. But when American adventurer Gideon Roberts provokes unexpected desires, Braxton finds himself in a war over the boundaries of his heart.


Renovating the Relationship ~ Katherine Kingston
Dani and Brad’s relationship ended years ago when he couldn’t give her what she needed. This time Brad thinks he’s found a way to provide it, but Dani might not agree when she realizes what he plans.

One Kinky Weekend ~ Berengaria Brown
Logan and Zara’s sex life is dead boring, so they ask another couple to join them for a very dirty weekend of naughty sex.

One Hot Havana Night ~ Suz deMello
Havana, 1958... On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had.

Fifty Shades of Valentine's Day ~ Katherine Kingston
Dumped on Valentine’s Day! Melissa only thinks the day can’t get any worse. Until she damages her hot neighbor’s car, and he demands unexpected compensation.


Sappho's Sisters ~ Berengaria Brown
Lady Eustacia Lumley, the only child of the Earl of Wentworth, must marry well and ensure the succession. Only problem is she’s falling in love with another woman.

*These titles have been previously published in earlier Naughty Literati boxed-sets.*




Monday, February 5, 2018

An Excerpt from Disputed Boundaries by Regina Kammer #HistoricalRomance #bisexual #polyamory


Part of the Naughty Spice: Naughty is the New Nice! anthology by bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati!


Pre-order Now at 99¢! Today only!
Price goes up to $2.99 on February 6, 2018


Find it here:




Blurb:
Garrison life along the disputed Canadian-U.S. border is so uneventful Royal Marine Braxton Thorne mostly just fools around with his fiancée Tilda. But when American adventurer Gideon Roberts provokes unexpected desires, Braxton finds himself in a war over the boundaries of his heart.

Excerpt:
Copyright © Regina Kammer, 2016

Royal Marine garrison, San Juan Island, 1 December 1869

There is an aching in my heart which I barely understand. An emptiness, a void made more bleak by winter’s burgeoning desolation.

It began when Gideon left.

A man…there have been times when a man has incited a spark of passion within. Always have I buried that desire, restraining the urge to act upon it. To do so is essential. Society finds love between two men aberrant.

But Gideon has affected me in a new and exciting way. I could not restrain myself.

And I do not regret it.

Our attachment is an unlikely one: I a soldier for the crown, he a free-spirited American adventurer. He was here merely visiting. I would not be here if it were not for this “war”—although the epithet is unwarranted. Since the occupation of this island began, there has been little antagonism. It is a border dispute, not a philosophical battle between our two nations. We British are cordial to the Americans and vice versa. At times, this good rapport develops into genuine friendship.

Yet, to form such a deep connection as Gideon and I have is extraordinary.

And for this yearning for his company to burn inside me is exceptional. Never before has the absence of a man caused such a hunger.

But what if Tilda were to find out? Would she doubt I love her as well?


Braxton Thorne rested his pen next to the inkwell and stared at the words drying on the open page of his journal.

Good God. What if Tilda found out? She had bemoaned his spending time with Gideon to the detriment of spending time with her. Might she suspect something unnatural fed upon him driving his need to be with the American?

Would she report him to his commanding officer for immorality?

No. Surely Tilda understood the flush of excitement with a new friendship. And she had been there the day they met…


About the Author

Regina Kammer is a librarian, an art historian, and an award-nominated, best-selling, multi-published writer of erotica and historical erotic romance. Her short stories and novels make history sexier, whether the era is Roman, Byzantine, Viking, American Revolution, or Victorian. She’s even sexed up contemporary settings, Steampunk, and Greco-Roman mythology. She has been published by Cleis Press, Go Deeper Press, Ellora’s Cave, House of Erotica, Story Ink, Loose Id, The Naughty Literati, and her own imprint, Viridium Press. She began writing historical fiction with romantic elements during National Novel Writing Month 2006, switching to erotica when all her characters suddenly demanded to have sex.

Subscribe to Kammerotica News
Keep up with Regina on her website
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See what’s new on her Amazon Author Page
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Saturday, February 3, 2018

An excerpt from “Jewel’s Menage Christmas” by Berengaria Brown, part of the “Naughty Spice: 17 Lusty Love Stories” boxed set



Blurb: Jewel, Donovan, and Oscar live together but the excitement has gone out of their relationship. She makes holiday plans to spice things up. Jewel's thought of everything, but will Donovan and Oscar rise to the challenge?


Excerpt:
Jewel never thought she'd have to say it, but frankly, her ménage relationship with Donovan and Oscar had become boring, predictable, and stale. The three of them acted more like old married fifty-somethings than three trendy, young, ménage-sharing twenty-somethings.
They should be eager to jump into bed together or fuck up against the wall, filled with raw passion for each other. Instead, Oscar was so tired after work he fell asleep on the sofa in front of the television, while Donovan sat at the table surrounded by a mountain of paperwork he'd brought home from the office. At night, in their apartment, instead of screams of passion, there were soft snores from Oscar, and groans of frustration from Donovan as he hunted for missing pieces of data.
"We're all still young. We should be in bed having sex," she said aloud in the living room.
Neither man paid any attention to her.
She had the feeling that even if she stripped off, Oscar wouldn't wake up, and Donovan wouldn't notice unless she started dancing on the table between him and his spreadsheets.
"You're not listening, are you? I may as well be invisible!"
No response.
The way Jewel saw it, she had two options -- find herself a new relationship or kick the men into action and reignite some passion in their existing threesome. Jewel slitted her eyes and gazed critically at the men. Donovan had short, blond hair, deep blue eyes, was a fraction over six feet tall, and looked like a muscular Viking. Under that boring, plain, navy blue sweater, he had the most intricate tribal tattoo across his right upper arm. He also had a large cock that he knew how to use to hit her just right to bring her to a screaming orgasm. Not that they'd done that too often lately.
Oscar slumped on the sofa, his red head thrown back against the top of it. He had the very fair skin and pale blue-gray eyes common to redheads. He also had a lean, lithe, runner's build, making him appear taller than his six-foot-even height. His cock was a mighty fine piece of equipment, too. Oscar and Donovan were both bisexual, comfortable with fucking each other, or fucking her, or fucking as a threesome.
It wouldn't even be so bad if the men were fucking like bunnies. At least I could watch them. But lately, no one here is getting any!

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Berengaria Brown