An Excerpt from Window Display by Regina Kammer #ContemporaryRomance

Part of the Getting Naughty: Twenty Tantalizing Tales anthology


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Price goes up to $2.99 on release day, January 23, 2018


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Blurb:
The apartment in Zurich was supposed to be the perfect disruption-free place to finish my dissertation. Trouble is, my room came with a very distracting view.

Excerpt:
Copyright © Regina Kammer, 2015

“Date anyone lately?”

She plunked a glass of iced tea in front of me as I ate amazingly good cheese and bread in the dining room. A humid breeze blew through the open sliding-glass door to the east balcony, the smell of freshly mowed lawn wafting up from the low rolling grassy common below.

I laughed darkly while a vision of me eating Little Man Goody Cao all by myself danced in my brain. “No.”

“Hmm.” Megan lifted a brow as she sat across from me.

“I’m too busy to fuss with online dating.” That’s what people did these days, wasn’t it?

“Surely there must be other grad students?”

“We’re all busy. And a lot of them are already married. With children.”

Megan sighed. “Well, it must be difficult to find a man in whatever it is you’re doing. Feminist Studies, is it?”

“Women’s Studies, Meg. And it’s only my emphasis.”

I scowled at her, but her eyes twinkled with joviality.

I shook my head. “There are a couple of great guys in Classics. Maybe when I’m finished―”

Megan threw up her hands. “Stop making excuses, Laur. It’s always after you finish this thing or that. The last time it was translating some Greek.”

I’d finished that well over a year ago.

She started to say something, then thought better of it. I gulped a swallow of tea and stared out the window.

To a perfect view of a naked guy.

A very hot naked guy.

I almost spit out my beverage.

He was in the building across the common. He was tall and blond, lanky but athletic, and framed by the large double window of his living room. He left and was out of sight for only a moment. He then re-appeared in the barely frosted glass of the bathroom shower stall and began to, um, well, bathe…rubbing soap all over…flexing and bending into the spray of water…grabbing and washing his—

Heat rose in my face. “Oh. My. God.”

Megan giggled. “That’s Christoph.”

“Christoph?” I squeaked.

“I used to watch him all the time. But after we became friends, it was sort of weird.” Megan sipped her tea. “He works at Parker’s company.” She eyed me. “He’s single.”

I eyed her right back. “And lives in Switzerland.”

She shrugged. “So you have a summer fling.”

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.

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An Excerpt from Silent Sky by Regina Kammer #ContemporaryRomance

Part of the Getting Naughty: Twenty Tantalizing Tales anthology


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Price goes up to $2.99 on release day, January 23, 2018


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Blurb:
I watched in horror as the twin towers collapsed, trying to remember if I’d told Scott I loved him before he left for New York.

Excerpt:
Copyright © Regina Kammer, 2015

“Jennie?” said the gorgeous guy I’d been ogling surreptitiously since the second he’d walked through the front door. “Hi. I’m Scott. Happy Birthday.” He stuck out his hand.

I smiled and tried not to melt under the intensity of his olive-green gaze as I shook his hand. His grip was strong, assertive, and compelling.

It was my thirtieth birthday and my friend Daphne was throwing me a “bring a single man” party at her flat in San Francisco. All my girlfriends were partnered, but I was the black sheep of the bunch. Perennially single with a string of atrocious short-term boyfriends and one-night-stands.

I met a lot of random guys that night, some of them even gay. (“Well, he’s single!”) Scott arrived late, and I had turned at the sound of the doorbell in hopeful anticipation. He chatted with Daphne briefly before heading straight over to me, wending his way through the cliques of party guests. My heart pumped blood to flush my face, frustrating my attempts to maintain my cool.

Physically he was everything I had fantasized about—and more. Tall, but not too tall. Green eyes, but a shade I had never expected. Brown hair, longish and tousled. Athletic frame covered by a button-down shirt and black jeans. Which meant he actually thought about what to wear to a stranger’s birthday party. He posed gallantly before me with one hand behind his back, as if he were going to bow.

“Hi. Thanks,” I said, still a little dazzled by his perfection.

“I’m a friend of Dave’s—Daphne’s brother.” He glanced around at the noisy throng. “Sorry I’m late. I’m working on this big report. I had to get it done.”

“You’re not late. We haven’t even had cake yet.”

He beamed. “Seriously? That’s the best part.”

“It totally is, isn’t it?” I giggled, nervousness edging my mirth. “And now you’re here we can get the party started.”

Lines like that were usually how I got all those losers in bed.

Except Scott blushed. And pulled his hand from behind his back to present me with a beautiful bouquet: red carnations set off by orange dahlias and yellow sunflowers, splashed with a touch of baby’s breath.

I think I gasped. It was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.

After that, except for the few moments I was expected to blow out the candles on my cake, I found myself by Scott’s side the entire night.

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

Follow her on Twitter @Kammerotica

Or Google+

On Instagram

Or on Pinterest

Like her on Facebook

Connect with her on Goodreads

See what’s new on her Amazon Author Page

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Excerpt from Buy Me a Rose by Francesca Hawley

Part of the Naughty Beasts: Shifters, Vamps & Gargoyles, Oh My! anthology - Pre-order Now!

Contains 15 Shapeshifter, Vampire & Gargoyle Stories from bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati

Find it here:

Blurb: 

Jessica and Nathaniel Whitewolf celebrate their thirtieth anniversary as True Mates but they’ve lost their bond. Now a hot couples’ retreat will get it back.

Copyright © Francesca Hawley, 2017

Chapter One

She heard his step on the stairs and dished his bacon and eggs onto the plate. Right on schedule. Just like every morning. He walked into the kitchen and absently kissed her cheek as he sat down at the table. He ate neatly, as he always did.

Jessica Whitewolf watched her True Mate as he read the paper, his forehead knotted in thought. He’d been so focused on a case lately. One of his patients was late in a high risk pregnancy and he had been seeing her often so that she’d have a healthy pup.

Jess knew she shouldn’t feel jealous, the wolf bitch needed Nat’s attention. Sadly though, Jess couldn’t remember the last time her Mate focused so keenly on her. She fought the envy down and choked it off, wishing the best for the expectant mother.

“What are your plans today?” she asked.

Jess could almost predict what he’d say even though they rarely used their True Mate telepathic bond anymore. He’d talk about spending the day at the clinic and checking on his special case. Then he’d get up, give her a quick kiss and tell her he’d see her tonight.

“It’s a clinic day. I’ll be slammed all day with office visits.”

“Any interesting cases? How is Missy Goldwolf doing?”

“Missy?”

Jess smiled. Nat was a stickler about confidentiality. “She’s pregnant. She’s had a difficult pregnancy and everyone in the entire valley is holding their breaths hoping she’ll carry to term. It isn’t hard to figure out, honey.”

He rose and crossed the room. “I suppose not. She’s holding her own. I’m just glad that Yohana approved the upgrade to the obstetrics and neonatal units at the hospital.”

“Well, considering she’ll need it soon herself, it was a no-brainer for the council.”

“She didn’t know that at the time it was approved, but my thanks to the council,” Nat smiled and gave her a wink since Jess was part of that civic body. “I better go. See you tonight, right?” He kissed her cheek, picked up his briefcase and headed for the front door. Jess followed.

“The kids sent cards.”

“Hmm?” he asked absently as she followed him.

“Anniversary cards,” she hinted. “For us.”

“That’s nice.” He opened the door and left without turning around once. She watched him walk to the car and waved as he drove away. He didn’t wave back. She wasn’t even sure he’d seen her.

Jess sighed. When had this happened? When had they become so comfortable and…boring. She turned around and went inside to wash up in the kitchen before she headed over to her landscaping business.

Excerpt from Fist Me by Berengaria Brown

Part of the NAUGHTY FLAMES boxed-set, available for pre-order now, downloads on December 1st

Click here to pre-order from Amazon


Blurb:
Maeve nearly fell off her barstool when sexy Taryn asked her to fist her. But is it the right thing to do?
 
Genre/theme:
Lesbian romance, opposites attract, friends to lovers, sexual experimentation, FF romance

Copyright © Berengaria Brown, 2016

Excerpt:
Taryn had never been so aroused in her whole life before. She didn't consider herself to be a cold person, but sex had never been the earth-shaking experience she'd read about in books. In fact, half the time the only way she even came, was after Ben was asleep and she jerked herself off.

Of course she knew some women never came from a cock, but still, she often felt cheated. If he'd just done more to please her, instead of concentrating on getting his own rocks off... Oh well he was gone now and she'd worry about what his parents and friends would say to her about that later. And it would cause a storm of comments and recriminations, she knew that.

I'm so glad I asked Maeve to fist me. I know it's the right thing to do, and the foreplay has almost had me climaxing already. I don't care if the fisting hurts, I want to do it. I want the intensity, the unbearable passion, and I know Maeve will be the perfect teacher.

Taryn slid up on the bed with Maeve, wishing Maeve would touch her again. God, Maeve did that so well: very softly and gently, but with just enough pressure to arouse her. And playing with her feet! Who knew feet were an erogenous zone? In fact, every inch of skin Maeve touched instantly became an erogenous zone. And now they were getting to the fisting. I can't wait!

Maeve took a jar of scented lube out of the nightstand. When Maeve opened the lid, Taryn breathed in the scent: vanilla, the same as the little tea candles. Taryn watched excitedly, only just aware that the quiet background music was adding to her arousal. Oh yeah. Using all the senses. I must remember that.

Soon. Soon Maeve would put her entire hand inside Taryn, and she would finally know what fisting was all about.

Excerpt from Disputed Boundaries by Regina Kammer

Part of the NAUGHTY FLAMES boxed-set, available for pre-order now, downloads on December 1st

Click here to pre-order from Amazon


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.

Genre/theme: Historical, M/M, British Royal Marine, American adventurer, Pig War, border dispute, gay romance, bisexual romance, polyamory

Copyright © Regina Kammer, 2016

Excerpt:

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…

 

Excerpt from My Wish Come True by Tina Donahue

Part of the NAUGHTY FLAMES boxed-set, available for pre-order now, downloads on December 1st

Click here to pre-order from Amazon


Blurb:

Baby, it’s hot inside…
For Laurel, Christmas so sucks. She’s out of a job, money, and luck until her neighbor Scott plays Santa. This tall, dark, and sexy hunk delivers sweet decadence and holiday magic that makes being bad oh-so good.
 
Genre/theme:  
Erotic Contemporary, Romantic Comedy, Christmas, HEA

Copyright © Tina Donahue, 2016


Excerpt:

Laurel Austen jerked awake, uncertain why.

Someone shrieked, paused, and wailed again.

She winced and forced one eye open. Crumbs decorated her kitchen table, along with chocolate smears from cookies she couldn’t bake. Depressed by the season and her current circumstances, she’d gobbled the remaining raw dough. A bad move according to the CDC or some other government agency that warned against salmonella, E-coli, Ebola, or a disease-of-the-week. Just what she didn’t need.

Screech-screech-screech.

Like the Energizer Bunny the damn noise kept going and…

“Oh crap.” She jumped up and flapped her hands. “No, no, no.”

Her oven belched smoke worse than an active volcano, her cookies burnt to ash. The smoke alarm hit it highest note and stayed there, loud enough to break her eardrums.

“Hey!” A deep male voice in the hall cut through the racket.

Couldn’t be her neighbor Scott Quinn. With the other tenants gone for the holiday, she’d hoped to corner him at last and impress him with her awesome baking skills.

A fist pounded on her front door. “You okay in there?”

She was light-years from all right. Moving to Boulder had been a huge mistake despite the supposed job opportunities and men outnumbering women by an awesome margin. Neither situation had worked for her, and now this. It was him. She’d recognize his rumbling baritone anywhere.

“Ms.…ah.…” He hammered again. “Ms.!”

He didn’t even know her name. She hadn’t combed her hair. Wasn’t wearing makeup. This couldn’t get worse. “Yeah, I’m—” She coughed and turned off the oven.

He knocked hard enough to rattle her teeth.

Before he called 911, she slapped on a smile and swung her front door open.

He peered over her head into her crappy studio apartment. An easy task given his height. At least six-three, he had broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, and a super impressive bulge behind his jeans fly. Stuff that fueled female wet dreams.

Her mouth watered.

Scott batted away smoke. “Where is it?” He shouldered past her, an extinguisher in hand.

“What? You mean fire? There isn’t one. It’s my oven. I turned it off. My cookies burned. No biggie. Everything’s cool.”

The screaming alarm contradicted her.

He flicked on the oven fan and checked the appliance. “You need fresh air in here to get rid of the…” He stopped at her window caked with ice. Snow came down in huge, wet flakes.

According to weather.com, Boulder hadn’t experienced a winter this cold in decades. Lucky her. “I’m afraid you can’t open that. It’s frozen shut.”

He rubbed his arm.

Laurel bet his skin goose-pimpled beneath his gray Henley. She would’ve sold her soul to snuggle close and get him warm.

“Don’t you find it cold in here?” He checked her thermostat and whistled. “It’s only fifty-two degrees.”

Before she’d turned on her oven, the temperature had dipped to the upper forties. “Can’t be winter forever, right?” She forced a laugh.

He looked over.

Black hair skimmed his forehead and curled around his ears and neck, a just-got-out-of-bed look that made her blood race. Same as his stubble. By her guestimate, he had testosterone to spare and couldn’t be more than thirty.

He tapped her thermostat. “Your heat’s off.”

Smart and gorgeous. No guy deserved eyes that blue. And his lashes… Even with mascara, she’d never made hers so dark and long. “Uh-huh.”

“Is the unit broken? Did you call the manager?” Scott frowned. “Did that jerk give you grief? He whined like a two-year-old when I needed my kitchen lights replaced.” He raised his handsome face to the fixture. Off. The only light source was the small bulb above her oven and what illumination spilled in from the hall. “Want me to talk to him about getting this stuff fixed?”

“No, please.” She held up her hands.

Scott regarded her oven mitts and ensemble. Boots, several fleece sweats that made her thighs even bigger, and a puffy parka that gave her a bod like the Michelin man.

The four sweatshirts she wore beneath her coat didn’t help. “This isn’t his fault. I’m sure the heat and lights work fine. I don’t turn them on. Actually, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

This wasn’t how Laurel envisioned their first conversation, Scott cocking one eyebrow at her as he would someone seriously nuts. She shrugged and tried to act upbeat. “I kind of—”

The alarm sputtered, gave one last painful wail and cut off.

She sagged. “Finally, huh? My ears were about to bleed.”

“Mine too. What were you saying?”

By now, most guys would have fled with their extinguishers, grateful she hadn’t caused a blaze that threatened their digs. Scott’s interest and possible concern surprised and dismayed her. Laurel didn’t want his pity. “Nothing really. That is, I wasn’t saying anything important. I lost my job, that’s all. I wasn’t fired for cause. They loved me. Just not enough. I was outsourced or maybe insourced. I’m not sure what you’d call what happened to me. They found someone else or rather something else that was way cheaper than my salary and benefits. Not that my medical and earned time off were great or that I made a fortune there. But money’s money, huh? At this point, I’ll take anything. Even Walmart hasn’t called back. Been a tough few months. After Christmas though, things should look up.”

“Something else?”

She wasn’t making sense. Heat burned her cheeks. The warmest she’d been in days. “Yeah. I’m embarrassed to say a computer replaced me.”

“You were in customer service?”

“I wish. I’d probably still be working. I compiled information from various sources and wrote news articles for our clients.”

Scott brightened. “You’re a journalist.”

“Not there I wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t do reporting. Simply pulled facts together and wrote stuff I thought was interesting. Management said the computer did it faster and better. Go figure. However, I do have a communications degree and the crushing student debt that goes with it. Life is good.” She bared her teeth in what she hoped was a smile. “By the way, I’m Laurel Austen.”

“Scott Quinn.” He put out his hand.

She fumbled with her oven mitt and finally used her teeth to pull it off. Beneath it she wore her Hello Kitty mitten. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.”

His firm grip weakened her knees. His dimple stroked her soul.

“I know this is your call, but you shouldn’t stay in here. Too smoky and cold. I have breathable air and heat at my place.” He gestured to his apartment across the hall. “Happy to share both with you.”

Even if she’d been drowning, his offer would have been more welcomed than air. Still, she held back. “I don’t want to intrude on your plans.”

“You haven’t.” He opened his door.

Unlike her studio, he had a one-bedroom. Lucky guy. He didn’t have to sleep on a pull-out sofa, his face inches from the fridge. A faint lime scent lingered in the toasty air, the fragrance clean and masculine. She resisted sniffing or savoring, afraid he’d find her weird. Computer equipment dominated the space. He’d propped a Tablet on his cloth sofa. The screen showed a crackling hearth. Red stockings dangled from its holly-adorned mantel. His flat screen displayed a festively decorated Christmas tree. Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer played on his cellphone.

She laughed.  “I like the way you celebrate the season.”

“You don’t think I overdid it?”

“Are you using Santa Claus or Rudolph as your screensaver?”

“Alvin and the Chipmunks.”

“You’re definitely hardcore.”

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

She ached to kiss them.

“Go on, sit.” He gestured to his sofa. “I’ll get coffee to warm you up.” He padded into the kitchen.

She craned her neck. His stockinged feet were large, his hands too.

“Do you like milk or sugar?”

“Black and hot is good, thanks. Do you work from home?” She’d already figured he did or lost his job since he rarely left this place.

“This is my office. I ditched the corporate world to become a contractor. Works out better for me. I make more money and do what I want.”

“Which is?”

“Programmer.”

“You write software?”

“Not to take people’s jobs away. That stinks, especially for journalists. Have you read online news recently? I’ve seen better grammar and sentence construction from ten year olds.”

Great-looking and kind. Warmth poured through her. “I agree. Management said my stories weren’t as accurate or as good as the software. Yeah, right. I pointed out its mistakes. They said everyone has a learning curve. Like the program was a person or something.”

“Bastards.” He offered her a steaming mug. “I wouldn’t code that stuff if I was starving. I’m a game developer. Strictly feel-good entertainment. I don’t mean to sound nosy, but can’t your folks help with expenses until you’re back on your feet? You could freeze to death over there.”

She blew on the coffee and thawed her fingers on the mug. “Mom and Dad are in Florida. Orlando. That’s where I’m from originally. Their jobs were outsourced to China five years ago. They both work part-time now. At their ages, it’s all they can get. I’ve been sending them money to help out. They don’t know I got fired. I don’t want them to worry.”

He joined her on the sofa. “How’d you end up here?”

“Answered an ad that promised medical, stock, advancement, you name it. I hoped after a year, I’d move up to their actual reporting division and from there try my luck at a major paper or news agency. I didn’t last five months. I think I was a stopgap measure until they got the program they wanted.”

“Did they at least pay for your move?”

Her cheeks stung. “I did that willingly for the chance to work there and get fired without notice. Dumb, huh?”

“Not at all. You deserved better treatment.”

Laurel wished she’d talked to him before scarfing down her cookie dough. Would’ve saved her a zillion calories she didn’t need with those doing zip to curb her appetite. Her stomach growled loudly. She pretended it hadn’t and sipped her coffee.

Scott put his cup on the cocktail table. “Do you like pizza?”

When she could afford it. “Only for every meal. Other than that, no.”

He wagged his finger. “I was about to go out for dinner when your alarm blared. If you don’t like pizza, we could get something else. My treat.”

Hunger didn’t allow pride. Desire kept her from begging off no matter her foolish hope for anything romantic between them. She wasn’t a babe by any means, especially tonight. In the looks department, Scott beat out Greek gods. Plus, he was a genuinely decent person. The total package wrapped up in a festive holiday bow. Her chest ached from anticipation, uncertainty, and happiness. The unholy trio.