21 May 2015

The Red Wolves Motorcycle Club...Book 3

NOW AVAILABLE!

When Dove Cries (Book 3 Red Wolves MC)


John Draven is vice president of the Red Wolves Motorcycle Club.  While on a special run, he meets FBI Agent Cadence Vanaker again.  Cade is the man who killed his cousin five years ago and the one man he hates more than anything, but now he’s forced to work with him to take down a human trafficking ring operating in his hometown.

Cade wants more than anything to tell Draven that he wasn’t the one who killed his cousin, but he can’t reveal the truth so he has to live with Draven’s hate.  When the two men find a woman half dead and bound with zip ties, they both feel a need to protect her.


Dove Aldrin is a sensitive young woman who had been abducted and held prisoner for a long time.  When she escapes, she falls into the path of two men determined to help her and find the man responsible.  What she didn’t count on was falling for both of them.  How can she pick one over the other, especially when they can’t stand each other?  

**Each book in the series is interracial menage.



Slowly, awareness fluttered back to Dove. First, there were noises. The gentle swish of the air conditioning. The hum of a machine. Then came the antiseptic cleanliness of the air. Finally, she felt the stiff bleached sheets tucked in around her. She cracked her eyelids. A white room and light green curtain. A hospital. It meant she was rescued. She was safe.
She shifted her gaze and saw her angel reclined in a chair next to the bed. His arms lay crossed over his massive chest and his booted feet were crossed at the ankles. His chin rested on his chest as he dozed, and she was afraid he was going to wake up with a painful crick.
Draven. Was that his first or last name?
She took a moment to study him, admiring his sandy blond hair that hung a little long over his collar. She vaguely remembered he had pretty blue eyes. He wore a black leather vest over a white T-shirt that looked as if it had seen better days. On the upper left-hand side, she read the name of his motorcycle club, The Red Wolves, and under that was a patch that said V. President. She didn’t know anything about motorcycle clubs or motorcycles in general. In fact, her father had warned her not to get too close to the rough men who lived the biker life. They were trouble, he’d said. Clearly, her father had been wrong, because this man sitting next to her bed was her angel, her savior, and she was going to stick by his side the rest of her life. If that meant living among bikers, so be it.
At that moment, the door opened and another biker walked in wearing black leather with a satchel that hung diagonally across his body. His leather vest had a patch that said Nomad. He was just as tall as her angel, although his body seemed a little suppler in its strength. Silver shot through his dark, cropped hair, and the puppy dog brown eyes that met her gaze made her belly quiver with attraction, even in her weakened state. He carried two cups of coffee and halted when he saw that she was awake. A small smile graced his lips, and a dimple popped up in his left cheek that softened his harsh countenance. She returned the smile and watched as he made his way to the other side of her bed where an empty chair waited. He set the coffees down upon the C-arm table that hugged the bed over her legs.
“Hello,” he whispered.
“Hello,” she whispered back.
“I’m Cadence, but call me Cade—Cade Vanaker. You probably don’t remember me, but I was there yesterday with John.”
“John?”
Cade nodded toward the sleeping man on the other side of her bed. “John Draven. What’s your name?”
“Dove Aldrin.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Dove, although it’s crappy circumstances.”
She flinched at the memories of the circumstances. “He won’t find me, will he? He won’t hurt me again?”
Cade slowly reached out and took her hand in his. He caressed the soft skin right above where the white gauze ended with his thumb. The soft attraction fluttering in her belly blossomed through the rest of her body.
“I promise you, he won’t hurt you again. He’s dead, Dove. That’s why you were forgotten in that shit hole.”

WHERE TO BUY...




AND DON'T MISS BOOKS 1 & 2, THE START OF IT ALL...



17 May 2015

Welcome Tamsin Baker!



Hello Tamsin!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today! 

Hi Beth! Thanks so much for having me.

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

This story was originally written for an anthology call of Evernights for MF stories that were ‘strength vs innocence’ themed. I submitted it at 6500 words to have a reply saying to please redo and resubmit because the story deserved to be longer. It’s now over 24K so I’m pretty sure the editors were right J

Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books?

A little bit I suppose. I try not to write about my own life or things I’ve experienced, but love, sex and human emotions are the common thread that draws us all together, so its impossible for me not to have put some of me in my books.

Q) If you could choose, which published author would you like to brainstorm with and why?

Personally I love Shannon West. She writes mostly m/m and I LOVE her werewolf series. Her characters are loveable, her world building believable and the sex… amazing!

Q) What are your upcoming projects?


I’m working on the third MFM Perfect Pairs book which is a Canadian mountain lion shifter series.

Her one and only Dom
By Tamsin Baker

Blurb:
Simone graduated from university with three important things: her degree, her virginity still intact, and a case of unrequited love to make life complete. Her professor, Patrick Smythe is everything she wants in a man. 

After building up the courage to ask him out at the graduation ball, she is mortified when he rejects her. Six months later, her best friend drags her along to a BDSM club and Simone realizes why the sexy professor gave her the brush off. He’s a Dom at the club.
 

Patrick has never found a woman who can fulfil all of his needs in and out of the bedroom. Simone wants to be this woman, but can she succeed when they come from such different worlds?

Excerpt:
“Tell me more about why you haven’t dated before, Simone.”
She smiled and kept his gaze, no fear showing in her eyes. “I dated Patrick, a few people throughout high school and uni.”
Anger and a small amount of fear spread through his belly. She had lied to him? “You told me you didn’t.”
She chuckled softly and picked up a piece of garlic bread.
“I told you I was a virgin, and I was. I have barely let anyone do more than kiss me. So stop looking at me like that.”
Throwing in the towel so to speak, amazed at his lack of control with this woman, he poured more wine into his glass.
“I think I’m jealous that anyone has touched you.”
She laughed at that and he felt heat fill his cheeks. That would teach him for being honest.
She reached across the table, taking some of the sting out of her laugh with the squeeze of her hand on his.
“I didn’t mean to laugh honey, but seriously? You’ve probably slept with more people than you can count and you’re jealous just because I kissed a few guys?”
Patrick smiled, guilty as charged. “Are you telling me I’m being a hypocrite?”
She laughed again and ran her nails over the back of his hand.
“I love that you’re jealous. It means you care.”
Patrick turned his hand over and gripped her fingers. He instinctively knew that this was one of those defining moments in a relationship He’d never been jealous before, hadn’t cared about anyone enough to be upset when they moved on. This was very different. “I do care Simone. You are amazing.”
She drew back and he instantly wanted her hand back in his.
“So you’ll teach me more about the subby stuff?”
Patrick laughed, he couldn’t help it. She made it sound so basic.
“Yes, I’ll teach you everything. What I need, how to please me.”
Her eyes sparked and her mouth flattened into a straight line. Oh how he was going to love teaching her.
“And in return I will give you more pleasure and make you feel treasured beyond your wildest dreams.”
Something changed inside her eyes when he said that and the frown disappeared to be replaced by a shy smile. “But you’ll go easy on me to start with?”
Patrick nodded, serious now. “It’s my job to push your limits, but you always need to feel safe. If you say stop, we stop, that never changes.”
Their dinner arrived and Patrick ate his steak while Simone enjoyed her risotto.
They finished the wine and Patrick called the waiter over. “Dessert?”
Simone shook her head and held her belly. “No thank you, I’m so full.”
He placed some cash in the leather binder containing the bill and smiled as wickedly as possible. He would be fine to drive, though handling a flogger may be a problem. “Home then?”
She nodded and stood, swaying gently on her small heels.
He tucked her into his arm and led her to the car. When he opened the door she fell into it, giggling away. He shook his head, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
Once he had the car started and they were driving back to his home, he asked her, “You didn’t have that much to drink. Why are you giggling so much?”
She slid her hand over his thigh, a little too close to his aching cock.
“I’m just happy, Patrick, and it feels so good to laugh.”
Almost home, almost home. “Well, I’m sure I can make you feel better.”
Her hand stilled and he looked over at her quickly, she was worried about something.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
Simone slid her hand up to his crotch and stroked the flesh that was rapidly hardening. “Actually, I’m sore. Like really sore. Could you teach me some things I could do to pleasure you?”
Visions of Simone on her knees swam into Patrick’s vision and he groaned as blood flooded his groin. “Oh, I can think of a thing or two I can teach you that will give your sore bits a rest.”
“How about you drive me home and you teach me in the car?”
Though Patrick’s heart rate sped up at the idea, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “I like to be comfortable, Simone, and you should be too.”
She giggled and began to unbuckle his leather belt. “Oh, please, Patrick. I’ve always been such a good girl and never fooled around with anyone. Please?”
Well, how was he going to say no to that? He nodded and released a groan as she released his belt and unzipped him, his eager cock pulsing with pleasure as it sprang from its confines.

Author Links:

Buy Links:

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-heroneandonlydom-1805103-147.html

**Congrats to Vanessa for winning my Merry May Blog Hop!!!

10 May 2015

Merry May Blog Hop!



I grew up in the Eighties.  A fun time for a teenage girl with the emergence of Madonna and Cyndi Lauper (to name only two of the plethora or female singers).  We piled our hair high and used a can of hairspray a day.  The fashion of dangling earrings as big as dangling bracelets, fishnets under shorts, floppy bows, and large necklaces that said “Boy Toy”.  

As a young girl I had such romantic ideas spurred on by the fantastical romance of Harlequin Present and LoveSpell novels.  Books that told of breathless passion between men and women.  I couldn’t wait to grow up and find that kind of love.  I was about twelve when I started writing my own romance novel, longhand of course.  My first typewriter was manual and my best friend was a new invention called White Out. 

Romance females back then were girls I could relate to.  Most were secretaries, receptionists, nurses or schoolteachers.  The men were usually wealthy and hard-bitten, softened by love.  They whisk the girl away from her downtrodden job or life and sweep her into future of love, wealth and privilege.  

As movies like “Working Girl” swept in a new generation of women’s lib, tastes started to change.  I started to read more stories with stronger females, love that had to be fought for, flawed heroes with emotions.  My perspective on romance changed.  In my twenties I thought I had found my hero, only to be disappointed.  And as my taste in what I read changed, so too did my writing.

Now I prefer flawed characters redeemed through love.  Heroes or heroines who may start out weak and use love to transform themselves.  In my current book, Once Upon a Love Story, my heroine has had a horrible life.  She’s a stripper who has a dream of obtaining her GED and thinks that once she does, life will be a bowl of roses.  It’s not, of course, but she does find a man who loves her for who she is. 

The role of females in romance and erotic romance has changed significantly since the Seventies and Eighties, and the introduction of e-readers has allowed many fantasies to be explored.  Women are allowed to explore sexual situations once thought taboo, a sort of “burning of the bras” computer style.  And though sometimes I have the hero saving the girl, more than likely I make sure the girl can save herself.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

To win any one of my titles in PDF format, all you have to do is leave a comment & a way to contact you! (I promise not to spam you, I just don't have the time to track you down! LOL!)  One winner will be chosen at random at the end of the blog hop. 




To keep up to date with my new releases, blog hops, or give-a-ways, make sure you friend me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter! 




& Be sure to visit the others in the Blog Hop!



07 May 2015

Lynn Burke's Risso Family Returns in....Longing For Her

Hello!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today! 


Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books?

I always try to put SOME real life influences in my stories. It could be as simple as a person I see on the street who inspires me to write, or an event from my own past. I think utilizing what has influence OUR lives, makes for more believable writing.

Q) If you could choose, which published author would you like to brainstorm with and why?

Oh boy. I brainstormed hours with Anne Tyler over my Means of Mercy series. Lucky duck, I know!!! I’d love to have coffee with Roni Loren or Lisa Kleypas seeing as how both have influenced me beyond words.

Q) What are your upcoming projects?


I’ve got an antho shifter short in submission, the third Risso Family novella in edits, and another series first story subbed, the 2nd in edits as well. Yup. Busy, busy bee.

Longing for Her
A Risso Family Novella
Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 7, 2015

Blurb:
Straight-laced Cole Risso has longed for his sister’s bohemian best friend Gwen since he first laid eyes on her as a kid. Now, as future patriarch of the Risso Family, he’s expected to marry well. A free spirit and unconventional daughter of a pot-toking hippie hardly qualifies. 
When one night of giving into temptation ruins them both for any other, Cole and Gwen are faced with a decision - love the other enough to let them go, or defy family expectations and fight for their hearts’ desires.  No matter the decision, their choices have the power to destroy all they hold dear.

Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
I rounded the couch, but halted as a body came into view.

Cole lounged against the far side, one hand behind his head, half-empty beer bottle in the other. “Hey.”

Our gazes collided, sending a shock wave of energy through my blood. My heel itched to spin, but his focus wandered down my body and back up again, lingering on my bare thighs.

Oh, the temptation to taste him one more time. Three years of simmering desire had my kettle ready to scream hallelujah. “Hey,” I whispered back. “I thought you’d left.”

His smile melted my bones. “Decided to stay a while and reminisce.”

My lips tugged up. “I was eyeing the back of the couch while stealing some whiskey and doing the same thing.” Kind of.

“Care to join me?”

I considered the cushion closest to me and bit on the inside of my lip as temptation and love for the sexy man a few paces away warred in my brain. Knowing I owed Cole an apology, I decided to sit, curling my legs under me. “Sorry for being so harsh earlier. I…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Cole twisted sideways to place the bottle on the coffee table. “I shouldn’t have cornered you like that.” He started to sit up, but hesitated, a question in his eyes.

“It’s all right. I won’t run.”

The leather squeaked as he swung his feet to the floor and leaned back, hands on his thighs. His blue tie hung loose, the top two buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned. A hint of dark hair called out to my fingers. Averting my eyes, I focused on the tumbler clasped in both my hands.

“I know I’ve said it hundreds of times, Gwen, but I’m sorry. Please say you forgive me.”

Another gulp of whiskey gave me courage to speak. “Forgiving in my mind means making things right—getting back to normal and moving on.” I lifted my head enough to focus on the knot of his tie. “I can’t do that with you, Cole.”

“Why not?”

“Because even though it’s expected you’ll marry an uptight, snobbish princess,” I sucked in air and allowed the words to spew, “I want you every second of the day.”

His chest stopped its rise and fall, and I glanced up at his face.

Mistake.

Longing like I’d never known reached out from his eyes and froze me in place. My breath caught. 
Nipples pebbled beneath my thin shirt.

Every muscle in my body quivered as he stood and walked toward me, unwavering gaze on my face.

“What—” I licked my lips, hating how my voice wavered. “What are you doing?”

“Give me the whiskey.”

My pulse thrummed with life, and I put the glass in his outstretched hand.

He set it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact and leaned down, placing his hands against the back of the couch on either side of me, making an effective cage. His face hovered mere inches from mine.

I breathed in as he exhaled, the subtle scent of peppermint flooding my mouth with saliva. His lower lip called out to my teeth; the shadow lining his jaw begged for my tongue.

“Did you mean what you said about once being enough, Gwen? Because it’s not for me. I want to taste every inch of your skin. Bury myself inside you.”

My breath caught, and moisture flooded my panties making me squirm on the cushion.

I opened my mouth, having no idea what words would tumble out, but he swooped down, capturing my parted lips before I could speak.

Blessed Mary, mother of God.

AND IN CASE YOU MISSED THE FIRST BOOK...

Risso Family, 1
Lia Risso walked in on her fiancĂ© and three other women on Valentine’s Day. Two celibate years later, her roommate creates a profile for Lia on a dating website—without her knowledge—and sets up a date. On Valentine’s Day. 
Ryan Walsh, a self-made millionaire and libertine, refuses to commit to any one woman. Tossed from foster home to foster home as a child, Ryan is on guard against becoming vulnerable ever again. 
One dinner…one night of dancing and flirting puts both Lia and Ryan in danger of heart break. 
They have a choice—open themselves to the possibility of hurt or walk away, never knowing what might have been.

About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Family Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.


Giveaway:

An ecopy of Longing for Her, Heart Pendant, and a $10 Amazon Gift Card
a Rafflecopter giveaway

27 April 2015

Q&A with TL Reeve!

Hello!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  

Thank you for having me!


Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

You go right to the nitty-gritty don’t you? *laughs* I start with the scenario first, then I add the characters. Then I build who I want the hero to be. I go through several drafts of the hero sometimes, refining his qualities. Then I create his/her equal. By the time I’m done, I can tell you everything about each person. They might look like an unlikely pair but it’s the chemistry that makes them fit. And let’s face it, without chemistry, why put the characters together, right?


Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind?

Not really. There are days when it’s as simple as sitting down in front of my laptop and letting the words flow and then other days, it’s harder. Other days I physically have to make myself sit down to write.


Q) Is this part of a series?  If so, tell us about it!

Obsessed is a stand alone. Sorry guys. L


Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books?

I think there are parts of me in all of my books. How much and in which books, well you’ll have to be the judge of that. *wg*


Q) If you could choose, which published author would you like to brainstorm with and why?

 Oh man. You’re really trying to make this difficult, aren’t you? I would have to say Rebecca Royce. She comes up with some great shifter worlds, and as someone who is just starting in the para-shifter realm, it would be great to get some pointers from her.


Q) What are your upcoming projects?


I have several. I’m working on a fairytale right now. A Biker/shifter story, and two other shifter stories as we speak. I’m a busy, busy writer.


BLURB

I'd been through a ton of shit in my life. The guy I thought I loved left me, and the guy I thought was my friend, started stalking me. I found myself though when Mike came to me and offered me a job. 

Things were going good. My stalker seemed to back off and I began to live again.

However, that didn't last long. As Mike became more of a fixture in my life, my stalker became more obsessed. Now, stuck between my stalker and the man I could fall for, I had a decision to make.

Do I give up myself and go with Kyle, or do I make a stand and finally put my stalker to rest.


EXCERPT
“Hey Fin? You home?” Mike’s voice rumbled up from the courtyard. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

“Yeah, I’m up here, Mike,” I called out. Never had I been so happy to hear his voice.

A few moments later he bounded up the stairs. Kyle snarled, still close enough that I could feel his breath lick against my neck. “Hey Kyle.” Mike brushed past him wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

I died and went to heaven.

I gasped. Mike took that opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushed into my mouth. His fingers threaded through my hair, holding me still as he thoroughly devoured me. I whimpered against his lips as the full thickness of his erection pressed against my belly. When he finally pulled back, my head was spinning.

AUTHOR BIO
TL Reeve, a mulit-published author with Decadent Publishing, Cobblestone Press and Evernight Publishing, was born out of a love of family and a bond that became unbreakable. Living in the south, TL misses Los Angeles and will one day return to the beaches of Southern California to ride the waves at Huntington Beach. When not writing something hot and sexy, TL can be found curled up with a good book, or working on homework with a cute little pixie. Deniability

BUY LINKS

23 April 2015

Veil of Scars by J.R. Gray

Hello!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today! 

Hello, thank you so much for having me!

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?

This story is in first person, from the prospective of Steve, and he came to me when I was dealing with some rough feelings myself. I used all the negative energy and put them into the character to kind of get them off my chest. The rest of the story fell into place around what Steve was feeling.

Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind?

I try to write every morning and I drink lots of tea. If I really need to get something out I go sit at Starbucks where they know me by name.

Q) Is this part of a series?  If so, tell us about it!

No this is my first stand alone.

Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books?

As I said before I put a lot of real life feelings into this one. I always take what Im feeling and channel it into my books. Its cheaper than therapy!


Q) If you could choose, which published author would you like to brainstorm with and why?

I would love to work with Tiffany Reisz because I love the way she writes damaged characters. Im always drawn to characters in pain. 

Q) What are your upcoming projects?

My next project will be the forth book in my bestselling Bound series. I’m really looking forward to sharing that with the fans. I also have a m/f Sci-fi in the works as well as a contemporary m/m piece involving a cop and a prostitute.



Thank you so much for having me on your blog!  



A little bit about Veil of Scars:

Steven is tall, dark and damaged. He doesn't let anyone close, comfortable on the outside of normal life where he can hide his scars behind a wall so high that nothing gets throughexcept them. Despite a childhood marred with black and blue, he's survived and moved in with his two best friends, Sam and Charlie.

Life should get better, but it was Sam who held him when the dark threatened to swallow him whole, Sam who gave him a place that felt like home, and Sam who knew every scar and every broken place.

And it's all been taken away with Charlie sharing Sam's bed.

Without his former confront, Steven realizes what's been hiding in the deep corners of his heart, and the truth sinks him like a weight. Hes in love with one or maybe both of his roommates. Navigating unrequited love tears Steven apart and brings him to the precipice, and he has to choose: his feelings or Samsand Charlies?




Here is a sneak peek from Veil of Scars:


            Soon the music was going and party-goers were milling about in the low lights. There were drinks and bodies on every surface. I stood behind the bar, not minding making drinks for the guests since there was little else at the party that I wanted to do. The atmosphere mellowed as the liquor took effect, and Sam had long stopped trying to drag me out to dance. Instead, hed taken up a spot on the couch with Char. Their mouths met, skin and lips, while their hands wandered, stroking and skimming over each others clothes as the party moved around them. I sat back, finding I was no longer needed as everyone was sated. The few remaining people had paired off in couples for the night, strewn over the furniture and floor. The base thumped, and bodies moved with it as if the alcohol had turned them into living recreations of the music. The door to Char and Sam's room slammed shut, closing off a guy and two adventurous women.
Sams head snapped back at the sound, and he cursed under his breath. He glanced around then whispered to Char. She giggled and grabbed a throw off the back of the couch.
An outsider where I sat, I seemed to have escaped notice as the only fairly sober party in the room.
She pulled the blanket over herself and then moved the thin fabric over his lap. Soon Sams head flopped back into the cushion, and his mouth fell open in a soundless moan. Charlie's eyes blazed with mischief, and she grew more eager with every reaction from her boyfriend. His hand slid up her shoulder, curling around the back of her neck. My skin burned in the same place, a physical memory of the times hed touched me the same way.
He dragged his head off the back of the sofa and looked at her, his blue gaze pleading louder than any words could. The air buzzed with electricity from the pair of them. He licked over his lips, and the muscles in his arm tightened as he guided her head towards his lap. Charlie ducked under the blanket, and a flash of heat ran through me.
Was she really going to go down on him in the middle of the party?
I held my breath, transfixed as Sam lifted up his ass below where the blanket covered him to slide his pants down around his ankles, I guessed. He groaned, this time audibly, and the sound went right to my gut. I chewed on my lip ring unable to stop myself from staring. Charlie's head bobbed under the cover, and Sam's eyes rolled back in his head.
Suddenly I was flushed and embarrassed. I was the voyeur, spying on my friends who were caught up in drunken passion. I tore my eyes away from his lap only to find his blue gaze locked on me.


About J.R. Gray
When not staying up all night writing, J.R Gray can be found basking in the warm glow of the Miami sun, or at the gym where it's half assumed Gray is a permanent resident. A dominant, pilot, and sword fighting enthusiast, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. Gray frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns, to jot down nonsense. The bane of Gray's existence are commas, and even though it's been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder.
If Gray wasn't writing...well, that's not possible. The build up of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave or possibly a mental institution where the tales would end up on the walls in crayon and finger paint.

Find J.R. Gray online:
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