Celebrate Summer with Sweet Summer Kisses!


Bluestockings and wallflowers seek happily-ever-afters. Only handsome, respectable and deeply romantic persons need apply. Dukes and marquesses will be given special consideration. Apply within.

This anthology contains nine fun, heart-tugging, and wholesomely romantic Regency novellas that are as sigh-worthy as they are sweet, brought to you by USA Today and national bestselling, award-winning authors.

Get it Here!

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Summer-Kisses-Rege…/…/B00ZE8HXYY
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Google: https://play.google.com/…/Erin_Knightley_Sweet_Summer_Kisse…

Deceived by a Duke by Erin Knightley, USA Today and nationally bestselling, award-winning author

When strangers meet during a summer sojourn to the continent, love soon blossoms under the Spanish sun. But things aren’t all what they seem. When Libby discovers her English gentleman isn’t at all who she thought he was, can their new relationship survive the shock of being . . . Deceived by a Duke?

Captivated by the Wallflower by Aileen Fish, USA Today and nationally bestselling author

Finding the perfect husband for wallflower Lady Susan is a means to an end for Viscount Knightwick. Falling in love is not part of his plan. Can he keep his heart safe while making hers happy?

A Most Suitable Match by Lily George, national bestselling author

Can confirmed bluestocking and matchmaker Louisa Bradbury compose her own happily ever after with Thomas, the wallflower of the rich and powerful Wright family?

Stealing the Duchess by Marie Higgins, national bestselling author

When Julian Stratford seeks out to steal the duchess as an act of revenge, he mistakenly steals the wrong sister—a wallflower, no less. As they work together to try and solve the mystery, they soon discover that not only are their lives in danger, but so are their hearts.

First Impressions by Elizabeth Johns, national bestselling author

A widower earl, still in need of an heir, reluctantly sets off for London in search of a wife. He infinitely prefers the role of recluse to that of dashing beau.

The Season’s Incomparable prefers books to balls. She agrees to hide her bookish tendencies in exchange for her mother agreeing to limit her to one Season.

Their initial prejudices prevent their feeling they would suit, but an unlikely source may give them another chance…

Treasure Beyond Words by Heather King

Having trusted the wrong man, bluestocking Amelia Burcott is forced to seek employment as a governess in order to support herself. Little does she realize, when she joins the household of the Earl of Raftesbury, that he has a secret as great as her own and needs the right woman to help him conquer his past.

The Earl’s Beloved Match by Bess McBride, national bestselling author

Bluestocking Cora Prentice has no intention of marrying…ever. Tobias, the Early of Momford, has no intention of marrying…ever. But Aunt Mimi has other plans for them as she sets out to make a match between her goddaughter and her adopted nephew!

Save the Last Dance for Me by Cora Lee, award winning author

When Lady Honoria Maitland reunites with her old friend Benedict Grey, she proposes an arrangement: a faux courtship that will smooth wallflower Benedict’s re-entry into society and appease her dying father. But Honoria’s clever plan failed to account for Benedict’s heart…or her own.

The Third MacPherson Sister by Susana Ellis

Rebecca’s older sisters took the ton by storm while she herself has failed to attract a suitor in four Seasons. Miles is pondering his urgent need for a wife when Rebecca lands in his lap in the nave of Bath Abbey. A match between them seems ordained by the heavens… except for the little matter of his past history with her sisters.


Romance in Bath

Rebecca MacPherson and Miles Framingham, Duke of Aylesbury, meet in Bath Abbey while their respective mothers are taking the waters at the Roman Baths.


Miles is sitting in front of a stained glass window and pondering his need for a wife when Rebecca is pushed by a passing crowd into his lap. Is a marriage between them ordained by the heavens?


The next day, they meet again while shopping on the Pulteney Bridge, although this time it appears to be due to the scheming of their matchmaking mothers.

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But Rebecca isn’t interested in an arranged marriage—even with a duke—and Miles, besides being reluctant to tie himself down, has a rather scandalous history with one of her “Golden Twin” sisters.

A match between them seems impossible… unless true love truly does conquer all.

About Susana 

Susana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

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Susana’s Parlour • Susana’s Morning Room

Sabrina York: Tarnished Honor (The Incomparables)

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Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

One of six amazing novels in a landmark collection honoring the heroes of Waterloo and the ladies they love!

This limited edition box set includes 6 scorching romances that commemorate the 200th anniversary of the June 18, 1815 Battle of Waterloo.

From the Duchess of Richmond’s ball in Brussels to the Battle of Waterloo and beyond, join these six unforgettable heroes as they journey back from the physical and emotional trials of war and discover the passion that thrills the body can also heal the heart.


Interlude with a Baron by Cerise DeLand

Emma wants only an interlude with the man she’s adored for years. But Drayton Worth has spent five years riddled with guilt for hurting her—and he’s determined to have more than a few nights in her bed.

Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with war wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt and tormented by his tarnished honor. When he meets Fia Lennox, a beautiful and brave Highland lass in dire need of his protection, he sees in her his chance for redemption…or utter damnation. Because despite his valiant attempts to resist her, he cannot.

Love After Waterloo by Suzi Love

When Lady Melton and her son join Captain Belling and the last wounded soldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she expects clashes with army deserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love with the antagonistic captain will change her life.

Dreaming of Waterloo by Lynne Connolly

Paul “Lucky” Sherstone daren’t even let his wife too close because of his headaches and the living nightmares he can’t dispel. Hetty hardly knows the man who comes back from war, but one thing she does know—she still wants him.

The Captain’s Heart by Suzanna Medeiros

A man who is determined to fulfill his duty at the expense of his own happiness, a woman who wants only one taste of true passion, and a case of mistaken identity. Can Captain Edward Hathaway and Grace Kent overcome the guilt that continues to haunt them both and find true love?

For Love or Revenge by Dominique Eastwick

Captain Roarke Wooldridge is about to find out that sometimes love does heal all wounds.But when his need for revenge collides with desires he never believed he would feel again, will he be able to put aside the scars of Waterloo to embrace his future?

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About Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York

Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt that he could not save his friend, Graeme Lennox, and is convinced that a French lance left him less than a man. He has no prospects. Nothing left but his tarnished honor. But then he meets a vexing boy who makes him question even that.

Fia Lennox’s world turned on its end with her brother’s death. She’s gone in one fell swoop from lady to servant…to a woman on the run. The world is a dangerous place for a woman alone—even when she is masquerading as a boy—so when she meets up with a strong, valiant ex-cavalryman, she decides to become his traveling companion. Whether he likes it or not.

Battling villains, would-be-friends and their own finely-forged battlements, Fia and Daniel rush toward their destiny, a scorching passion and, hopefully, redemption. Can love conquer all? Even the ghosts of the past?



There was no other word for it. Simply glorious.

Daniel tipped his face up to the sky and grinned. The sun was shining and the breeze was mild. The sky was blue and tufted with fat white clouds. It was a lovely day to travel—it could have been raining, could have been cold. But since he’d set out from London, on this lengthy journey to Inverness, each day had been prettier than the last.

His mood had improved too. He was swamped with the conviction that he’d done the right thing, leaving his haven. As much as he appreciated his position at the club, he’d allowed himself to sink into it, into the rut of it. He’d allowed himself to wallow in his woes.

There was no wallowing on the road; there simply wasn’t time for it.

It was energizing to be traveling again, invigorating to be out in the world, breathing fresh air and going somewhere. He enjoyed the solitude, the quiet, the absence of need to make conversation.

That left him alone with his thoughts, his regrets, his guilt, but such specters had haunted him for so long, they were like old companions. He wouldn’t know who he was without them.

Aye. This was far more healing than any medicine—the power of his mount between his thighs, the kiss of warmth on his face, the movement. Surprisingly, his leg hardly pained him at all, except when he moved suddenly. In fact, it even felt better after several days of riding. He hadn’t fallen off his horse once.

Hunnam was in good form as well. No doubt he’d enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to prance once again. An hour’s exercise a day was one thing, but for a Scots Grey, the chance to run and run wild spoke to his soul.

It spoke to Daniel’s too, so he put his heels to his mount’s sides and gave him his head.

And it was glorious.

He hadn’t realized how closed up he’d allowed himself to become. How isolated. He hadn’t realized how much he’d allowed his injury—and his guilt—to shrink his horizons.

Well, his horizons weren’t limited now. They spread before him in a verdant green wash that stretched as far as the eye could see. He passed a loch and paused to admire the sparkling waters, to watch an osprey swoop down to snatch a hapless fish.

And damn, but it was a fine thing to be back in Scotland. Daniel hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed hearing the lilt of his own brogue, or tasting a well-made haggis. The Brits didn’t care for haggis, a fact he’d never quite understood. When created by someone who knew what they were doing, it was delicious. And Scottish innkeepers, apparently, knew what they were doing. Or their wives did.

There was no doubt about it, he’d probably gained a stone since crossing the border to his homeland. He’d never felt so vibrant and alive. And while he had enjoyed the occasional chat with a fellow countryman, he had never enjoyed his own company more. There was something about being alone with one’s thoughts that was very peaceful. It allowed a man to explore his soul at leisure without interruptions. It allowed a man to process all that had happened in his life. To put everything in the place it belonged. Though he still had several days of travel, at most a week, he was already lamenting the journey’s end.

After he passed the Kinclaven Crossroads, the landscape changed from fields and farms to orchards. The looming trees shaded the road in a lacy pattern; the scent of crisp apples filled the air, tempting Daniel to reach up and pluck one for a taste.

He did not. That would be stealing and he was a man of honor.

He pulled back on Hunnam’s reins when he spotted a white mare standing in the road. She was difficult to miss. Her lines were exquisite, her saddle and tack were the finest…but she had no rider. His brow wrinkled as he rode closer. No one would ever abandon such a fine horse. It was—


The imprecation came from the leafy tree next to which the mare stood.

Daniel glanced up; the boughs riffled. An apple fell to the ground.

The mare whinnied and walked over to it, lipping up the treat.

Another apple fell and the horse made short work of that one was well.

“Stop eating them all,” the tree said. “Save some for me.”

Daniel cleared his throat. It seemed prudent to make himself known. “Hullo?”

The leaves rustled and a face peered out. Enormous blue-green eyes stared at him. Something flickered through them. Something that could have been construed as…guilt.

Daniel frowned. “What are you doing up there?” he asked.

The eyes blinked. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He drummed his fingers on his saddle. “Are you stealing apples?”

The chagrined expression on that elfin face was nearly whimsical. “Is this your orchard?”

“Indeed it is not.”

An entrancing, mischievous smile blossomed and the thief tossed him a fat red apple. “Then catch.”

He did not. He did not catch. The apple bounced off his pate.

“Oh really,” an amused voice echoed from above. “Let’s try again.”

“Let’s not.”

Too late. Another apple flew in his direction. He missed it again. It fell to the ground and Hunnam gobbled it up.

“Sir, you are supposed to catch them.”

“I doona care to abet you in your thievery—” Another missile flew. By the grace of God, he caught this one. “Please stop throwing stolen apples at me.” It was large and red and shiny and looked delicious. Aside from that, it smelled quite tantalizing. As he felt he had earned it, he polished it on his lapel and took a bite. Flavor exploded in his mouth and juice dribbled down his chin. They were excellent apples.

The face disappeared, followed by more rustling. A satchel fell to the loam with a soft thud. Then a pair of feet appeared. Legs. Slim hips. Slender shoulders and then a mop of tousled black curls.

A boy dropped to the ground with an oof. He looked up at Daniel, his head tipped saucily to the side, and then he grinned. It was a rakish grin. “Not stealing,” he said. “Borrowing.”

This he said with such conviction, Daniel had to struggle not to laugh. This was no laughing matter. Thieves ended up in the gaol. “Ah. Borrowing. Surely you won’t mind explaining that to him.” Daniel nodded to the distance, where a farmer was running through the trees toward them, arms flailing.

The boy’s eyes widened. He picked up the satchel and hefted it over his shoulder. Then he bounded into the saddle and shot a glance back at Daniel. His grin was wicked as he urged his mount forward…leaving Daniel behind to explain to the farmer why his apples were missing.

And why apple juice dribbled from his chin.

About Sabrina York

Sabrina_head_logo copyHer Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pinterest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.



Beverley Oakley: Cressida’s Dilemma

Rediscovering the Magic

Beverley Oakley

Many years ago I dipped into nineteenth century journalist Henry Mayhew’s report on crime and prostitution in London and discovered a gold mine of material for my fiction writing.

One real-life story in Mayhew’s book, London’s Underworld, became the basis of Cressida’s Dilemma, a sweet, sensual Regency about a long-married couple rediscovering what was once wonderful about marriage.

The anecdote Mayhew recounted was about a husband and wife who’d drifted apart and who were each, individually, enticed to seek diversion at a house of assignation. Mayhew describes the “house…where ladies, both married and unmarried, go in order to meet with and be introduced to gentlemen, there to consummate their libidinous desires.” He gives an account of one such “lady of intrigue, belonging to the higher circles of society, married to a man of considerable property, [who] found herself unhappy in his society… Her passions were naturally strong, and she one day resolved to visit a house that one of her female acquaintances had spoken about…” When her unknown paramour, whose features were indistinct in the gloomy but tastefully decorated ‘May Fair’ house, began to converse with her, the lady “with a cry of astonishment recognized her husband’s voice” while he, equally confused, discovered he was speaking to his ill-used wife. Surprisingly, Mayhew finishes, saying: “This strange encounter had a successful termination, for it ended in the reconciliation of husband and wife, who discovered that they were mutually to blame.”

In the days when marriage really was a contract for life, except for the very rich, there must have been many marriages that could have done with a bit of shaking up like this. Goodness knows how meeting in a house of ill repute could have led to this couple’s reconciliation when I’d have thought the very opposite would have happened but there’s no accounting for what’ll stir the fires of passion.

And it certainly makes for a good story.

About Cressida’s Dilemma

In Cressida’s Dilemma, I teamed the idea of a naïve, timid young wife afraid of having more children with a mystery surrounding a lost child, a case which consumes her husband. Thus rumours that Cressida’s once-adoring spouse has returned to the arms of his former mistress, a singer at Mrs. Plumb’s Salon, puts the couple at cross purposes and gives each very different motivations for entering a “house of ill repute”.

Cressida’s Dilemma is the book is the first in my Salon of Sin series, where kitchen maids and cuckolded duchesses don disguises and venture through the red baize door of Mrs. Plumb’s House of Intrigue to find love. Many of these characters are, in fact, based on those interviewed in Henry Mayhew’s London’s Underworld.

Below is part of the first chapter, in which Cressida’s bullying cousin gloatingly passes on the rumour that is titillating London town.


Chapter One

“The Earl of Lovett has taken a mistress?”

The breathy shock of pretty newlywed, Mrs. Rupert Browne, sliced through the buzz of conversation, lancing its unsuspecting target three feet away and causing a deaf colonel to ask the duchess solicitously if she required a glass of water.

Still choking on her champagne, Cressida, Lady Lovett, strained to hear the response of her cousin, Catherine, who had obviously disseminated this latest shocking on dit while she smilingly assured deaf Colonel Horvitt she was quite all right, as if her happiness were not suddenly hanging by a gossamer thread.

cressidasdilemma_800 copyShe could only hope she was making the right responses to the colonel’s monologue. All her concentration was focused on the nearby conversation as she waited desperately for a rejection of the outrageous claim.

“Surely not?” gasped the generally well-intentioned but oblivious Mrs. Browne to Cousin Catherine’s whispered reply. “But the earl made a love match. Mama told me he scandalized society by marrying a nobody.”

Cressida had to use two hands to keep her champagne coupe steady. The indignity of being described as a ‘nobody’ was nothing compared with the pain of hearing her husband’s amours—real or otherwise—discussed in the middle of a ballroom. She forced her trembling mouth into her best attempt at a smile as the colonel leaned forward and wagged his finger at her, his stentorian tone precluding further eavesdropping. “Your husband ruffled more than a few feathers with his speech in the House of Lords last night, Lady Lovett.”

Cressida had once giggled with her ferociously forceful cousin, Catherine, that the colonel used his deafness as an excuse to peer down the cleavage of every pretty lady he addressed. She was in no mood for giggling now. Clearly, Cousin Catherine was disclosing details about the state of Cressida’s marriage, of which Cressida, apparently, was the last to know. She straightened and pushed her shoulders back, suddenly self-conscious of appearing the sagging, lacking creature the several hundred guests crowded into Lady Belton’s newly renovated ballroom must imagine her, if they were already privy to what she was hearing for the first time. Before her last sip of champagne, she’d considered herself happily married. It was all she could do to remain standing and dry-eyed.

Adjusting the lace of her masquerade costume, she managed, faintly, “Ah, Colonel, you know Lord Lovett and his good causes.” She tried to make it sound like an endearment, but the axis of her world had become centered on ascertaining what other titbits about her marriage Catherine was divulging to Mrs. Browne.

The music swelled to a crashing crescendo, the end of which was punctuated by Mrs. Browne’s shocked squeak, “Who is the woman? Madame Zirelli? Was she not once Lord Grainger’s mistress? No! His wife? He divorced her? And now she and Lord Lovett—?”

Cressida hadn’t wanted to come to Lady Belton’s masquerade. Little Thomas was teething, but Justin had been especially persuasive, reminding her that it had been a long time since they’d been out in public, and that, yes, he knew Thomas was cutting a tooth, but there was nothing Cressida could do that Nurse Flora couldn’t, just for a few hours that evening.

Searching the ballroom for her husband, she spied him talking to her friend, Annabelle Luscombe, near the supper table. Justin’s look was enquiring, as if he were hanging on her every word. Cressida knew he would take equal interest if Annabelle were talking about her latest bonnet or about the Sedleywich Home for Orphans, of which Justin was patron and Annabelle on the committee.

A frisson of longing speared her. Justin had looked at her like that when she’d first met him. So handsome, so determined, so interested and sincere.

The thought that he’d made a special plea for her presence tonight purely in the interest of stilling wagging tongues was almost too terrible to consider.

A mistress? Her kind, beloved, faithful Justin?

As if he were conscious of her from across the room, Justin turned, his dark brown eyes kindling at the sight of her, the warmth of his smile spreading comfort like a woolen mantle. It radiated across the heated, perfumed distance that separated them. Dear Lord, he looked like a handsome prince taken right out of the pages of a storybook, his brown, wavy hair brushed fashionably forward, topped with the laurel wreath required by his costume, his sideburns contouring his elegantly chiseled, high cheekbones. Dressed like a stately Roman senator, he was the stuff of every girl’s dreams, yet it was she, insignificant Miss Cressida Honeywell, daughter of a poor country parson, who had won his heart all those years ago.

She’d thought she still had it—had vowed she’d always keep it.

Rallying, she took a step forward, responding to the invitation implicit in her husband’s eye, but the colonel began counseling Cressida on the dangers of Justin making speeches about orphans and sanitation when he could better rouse his audience in the Lords if he concerned himself with more important matters.

The look she’d just exchanged with her husband was enough to all but dismiss her fears. Exhaling with relief, Cressida smiled at the colonel who, obviously regarding this as encouragement, closed the distance between them as he pursued his argument. She retained her smile as Justin, from the other side of the room, focused another very warm glance in her direction before attending to the hunchbacked Dowager Duchess of Trentham, whose eightieth birthday celebration this was. Justin had the gift of making every woman feel the center of his especial interest. Clearly something must have been misconstrued…

And yet.

Awareness prickled through her—that she had for some time sensed all was not quite right. Taking a step back, she swallowed past the lump in her throat while making, she hoped, the appropriate responses for the benefit of the colonel. Justin, lately, had not been the contented husband of old. The recent bolstering she’d silently received from him faded upon this acknowledgement and her eyes stung. She knew her behavior had not been beyond reproach—that she had withdrawn and that understandably, he was confused. Some months ago, he’d tried to raise the subject, yet she’d brushed it aside, incapable of putting her feelings into words, unable to entertain that unmentionable aspect of their marriage at the heart of all their problems.

Forcing aside her shame, she turned in the direction of her cousin.

“Catherine? A minute, if you please?” Cressida waylaid the stately, dark-haired young woman dressed as a siren as the colonel—thankfully—responded to his wife’s perfunctory summons. With a little intake of breath and a stammered excuse, the recently gossiping Mrs. Browne slipped away while Cousin Catherine betrayed her guilt with a blush.

“Why, Cressy, I did not notice you. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder who Madame Zirelli might be and what she is to my husband,” Cressida responded with uncharacteristic harshness.

Catherine’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Cressy,” she gasped. “I had no idea you— I’m so sorry. But of course, it’s only gossip. You know how quick people are to jump to conclusions.” But her cheeks were flushed. She knew she was guilty of the charges Cressida made. “You’re looking unwell, Cressy. I’ll take you home. We’ll have a nice, cozy chat in the carriage, shall we? I hadn’t expected to see you out this evening, you’ve been hiding away so long.”

Cressida was about to argue that she planned to return home with Justin when Catherine took her arm, saying breezily, “Don’t trouble yourself over Justin. He’s asked me to tell you he’s off to White’s with Roddy Johnson. He knew you were anxious to return home to little Thomas.”

Was that grim satisfaction she saw on her cousin’s face?

It wasn’t until she’d gained the darkness of the vehicle that Cressida broke her tense silence. She could barely force out the words, but she would not have Catherine secretly gloating over something Cressida was apparently the last to know about.

“I’d thank you to tell me everything you told Mrs. Browne.” Sinking back against the squabs of her husband’s plush equipage, she hid her disquiet beneath a veneer of dignified anger. “If she is under the impression Justin has taken a mistress, you apparently did little to disabuse her of that notion, when I know very well it is not true. I’d like to know the source of your information.”

Catherine shifted beside her, and although Cressida could not see her face, she could tell she was uncomfortable. “No need to get on your high ropes, Cressy,” she muttered, and Cressida could imagine the proud, defiant tilt to Catherine’s pointed chin as she defended her actions, just as she had done all through her impish childhood and spirited adolescence. “Like you say, I’m sure there’s nothing to it.”


So what’s the most unlikely reason for a couple reconnecting that you’ve ever heard of? I’d like to offer a copy of my Ellora’s Cave Dangerous Gentlemen or Her Gilded Prison for any ideas or comments.

About the Author

Beverley Eikli author shot for ARRA copyHistorical romance author Beverley Eikli’s love of the gypsy lifestyle and appreciation of the world’s varied heroes was honed during years of working in the male-dominated safari and airborne survey industries. Redemption is her favourite theme and flawed heroines her specialty. Now living with her family in Melbourne, Australia, twenty years after hitching her star to the Cessna Caravan (now a Boeing 777) of the handsome Norwegian bush pilot she met around a campfire in Botswana’s beautiful Okavango Delta where she ran a safari lodge at the time, Beverley teaches creative writing, makes historical costumes and works as a disaster events researcher.

You can find Beverley here: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter

And you can buy Cressida’s Dilemma in ebook or print here.


Tracy Reed: Generational Curse

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Tracy will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

Character Interview with Sean Prescott and Kyla James

SEAN: Did you like the way Tracy told your story?

KYLA: Yes. I know my life is a little complicated. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her to figure out how to talk about me without making me look like a…well, let’s just say, I won’t be winning awards for being very chaste.

SEAN: No, but you’re a good person.

KYLA: Is that what you thought when you first met me?

SEAN: I thought I was conducting the interview?

KYLA: You are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask a few questions. Wink and Smile.

SEAN: Okay. Let’s just say the first thing I thought about you had nothing to do with you being a good person. It had more to do with sway of your hips and your full lips.

KYLA: I see.

SEAN: Can we get back to the interview?

KYLA: Just one more question. Ae you saying you find me attractive?

SEAN: Can I answer that in private?

KYLA: No. I want it on the record.

SEAN: Okay. Yes, I find you very attractive. Sometimes it’s a little difficult being around you, but I’m learning to control my feelings. I’m not going to lie, the chemistry between us is very strong. Since we started hanging out, I’ve taken a lot more cold showers and increased the amount of weight I’m lifting by twenty percent.

KYLA: I uhm…had no idea. I thought…

SEAN: My turn. Since we’re on this road. How do you feel about me?

KYLA: Not fair.

SEAN: I know. So answer.

KYLA: I uhm…you are…crap. Yes, I am very attracted you. So much so, that when I’m with my boyfriend, I’m picturing you. I see your hands traveling along my body. I close my eyes and it’s your lips I feel pressed against mine. I imagine myself pinned under you with your muscles pressing against my breasts and your voice in my head as I uhm…is it hot in here or is it me.

SEAN: That’s all you girl.

KYLA: I don’t understand it. Before we started seeing each other outside of work, I was fine. I could be standing next to you or brush up against you with out a reaction. Now, I find myself wanting to spend more time with you and less time with my boyfriend. This is insane…we aren’t even sleeping together. How is it possible my relationship with you is more fulfilling than the one with my boyfriend?

SEAN: Is that rhetorical question or did you want me to answer it?

KYLA: Answer, please.

SEAN: Seems you want more.

KYLA: More? What do you mean?

SEAN: You want what he’s not willing to give you.

KYLA: That’s insane. He’s…my life is just fine. I’m not lacking anything.

SEAN: Are you sure about that?

KYLA: What’s that supposed to me?

SEAN: You tell me. I’m not the one having sex dreams about my friend.

KYLA: Friend? Is that what we are?

SEAN: Of course we’re friends.

KYLA: What if I said I wanted to more? Would you be willing to give me more?

SEAN: Depends on what you’re asking?

KYLA: What if I asked you to love me?

SEAN: If you’ll let me, I’ll make love to in a way you’ve never experienced, but really need.

KYLA: So what do I have to do, to take you up on your offer?

SEAN: Say no to him and yes to me.

KYLA: I choose…

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About Generational Curse

What happens when a celibate Christian man befriends a woman involved with a married man? Sean knows he should run in the other direction, but Kyla tempts him to abandon his Christian beliefs for a taste of the forbidden. But if he continues the relationship, can he convince that being with a married man isn’t the fantasy life the generations of women in her family made it appear to be?

Sean Prescott and Kyla James are business associates playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse hoping the other will give in. But in this high stakes relationship game, is there really a winner or will both be losers?


“Hey baby,” she purred. He turned in the direction of the voice. When he saw her, a huge smile covered his face. She was sitting in the chair wearing a pair of five inch crystal encrusted Louboutins and a smile. He started walking towards her and she stopped him. “Welcome to Naked Night.”

“Naked Night?” he questioned. In the years they’d been together, Kyla fulfilled almost every sexual desire and request Eric had. She had also done some things she didn’t like, but she knew in order to remain in control, she had to please him. She sat in the green velour chair identical to the one in his office, teasing him. Her legs were spread apart with every inch of her on display, watching him drool.

“If you want to join this party, you have to be naked,” she announced

He started taking his clothes off and she pushed the remote on the stereo. He stood still removing his clothes to the sexy music playing on the stereo. When he removed the last piece of clothing, she let out a soft sigh and stood up. She slowly walked toward him, swaying her hips to the music drawing him in closer. She circled him like a lioness sniffing out her prey. The heat from his body filled the small space between them. She sensed his excitement and standing in front of him with room only for air to pass between them she inhaled, causing her breasts to inflate just grazing his chest.

She leaned in close and purred, “Did you miss me?”

As the words floated off her lips and landed in his ear, they ignited the fire he had been sitting on all weekend. He swallowed hard as she stepped closer. He thought to himself, how could one woman have so much control over him? Before he could answer, she slid her tongue inside his mouth pulling him deeper under her spell. He tried touching her but she stopped him.

About the Author

AuthorPhoto_GenerationalCurse copyI’m a single Christian woman who loves God, fashion and cute guys. I live in California, but consider myself a partial New Yorker because of the two and half years I lived there. I own http://www.thepinkduchess.com, a lingerie site for curvy women. Generational Curse is my debut novel.



Em Brown: Punishing Miss Primrose (Books I-V)

Women and Sex in Georgian England

by Em Brown

In Georgian England, women were not considered sexual beings. They could, however, be corrupted by men, who were allowed their sexuality. A woman’s virtue was a dear thing. In Pamela, Samuel Richardson’s highly popular novel of the time, the virtue of the heroine is rewarded when, after resisting all efforts by her wealthy master to seduce her, she receives his sincere proposal for marriage.

To this day, it is not uncommon to find stories where the woman is relatively chaste and inexperienced in sex while the man is the more experienced and more assertive one. If the heroine does have her sexual desires awakened, it is often at the hero’s doing. I’ve written such stories (Mastering the Marchioness and Submitting to the Rake), but these days, my heroines tend to be just as openly sexual, experienced, and feisty in bed as their male counterparts.

The heroine of my Punishing Miss Primrose series, Beatrice Primrose, is completely comfortable in her sexuality and has no trouble asserting it—to the consternation (and arousal) of the hero, Lord Carey. One reviewer described her as a “believably strong as nails female who is more than willing to go toe to toe with this hot as hell [marquess].” In the story, the bedchamber is the setting for a power struggle between two very passionate people, each vying in their own way to right a wrong and avenge the past.

Punishing Miss Primrose is set in the Regency period, but Regency views on the sexuality of women did not differ greatly from those of the Georgian period. Nevertheless, I had a great deal of fun writing a heroine who was strong in her sexuality, even though women who were lascivious were often considered wicked, as in Henry Fielding’s Shamela, or they were prostitutes, as featured in John Clelend’s erotic novel of the same decade, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure.

Woman’s sexuality has come a long way since then, but I can’t help wondering if we still have a ways to go.

Punishing Miss Primrose-highres (3) copy

 About Punishing Miss Primrose, Parts I-V

Miss Primrose needs to be punished.

A member of the wickedly wanton Inn of the Red Chrysanthemum, where the most taboo and illicit pleasures are indulged, Miss Primrose—or Mistress Primrose, as she prefers—left Nicholas Edelton a shell of a man. Now his older brother, Spencer Edelton, the Marquess of Carey, intends to provide her a set-down she will never forget.

Weary from exacting her revenge upon the man who raped her sister, Beatrice Primrose has had her fill of men of privilege and presumption, but she accepts a fateful invitation from a handsome nobleman to spend a sennight at his estate for a grand sum of money. She soon learns, however, that she will not get to reprise her role as Mistress. To her horror, she finds his lordship expects her to submit to him!

But Beatrice won’t give in so easily.

In a clash of wills, fueled by vengeance and lust, Lord Carey and Miss Primrose wrestle for dominance in, and out of, the bedchamber. Their biggest struggle, however, may be against their own desires…

Can Miss Primrose take what she dishes? And will Lord Carey succumb or succeed in punishing Miss Primrose?

This book is available FREE at most major retailers:

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“I thought I told you to wait in your chambers.”

The voice at the entrance startled her, and she dropped the book. Turning, she held up her lamp. His lordship stood with his hands at his hips. He had removed his coat, and his hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. There was a gloss to his eyes that she had not noticed during dinner.

“A Mistress does not receive commands. She gives them,” she informed him as if he were her student. She set the lamp on a table nearby.

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were about to smirk.

“And you take great pleasure in commanding others,” he said as he advanced toward her.

Did he mean to accuse her? she wondered.

He stopped and picked up her book, noting its title. “How fitting.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Your pardon?”

“Have you read it?”

“Some years ago.”

“And do you find a kindred spirit in the heroine, a whore, thief, and felon?”

The antagonistic edge in his tone made her defensive. She snatched the book from him, though it was his property.

“Through Moll Flanders, the author has painted the plight of women with great sympathy. One cannot help but admire the determination and resourcefulness of Mrs. Flanders.”

“A woman of loose virtue, dishonest, scheming—by her own admission. In the end, she and her husband live in sincere penitence for their wickedness.”

“A luxury not afforded to many.”

He paused in thought. “You believe her actions were compelled by her circumstances.”

“A woman must make her own fortune and seek her own justice. She cannot expect these will be granted to her in any easy form. She may be the most moral and honest and intelligent creature, but these virtues are not always awarded. And if a wrong be done to her, who will defend her? Will it ever be made right?”

Seeing his look of surprise, she realized she must have spoken too vehemently. She glanced away to hide her emotion.

“An unfortunate reality,” he said, after a pause, with more compassion than she expected. “But one’s circumstances, no matter how dire, do not absolve a man of wrongdoing.”

“You would that a beggar submit to starvation rather than steal a loaf of bread?”

“Are your circumstances comparable to that of a beggar?”

She stared at him. Why would he ask such a question? What a strange evening this had become! Though she was partly excited to be engaging in a discussion on the merits of virtue—she could think of no one of late with whom she had had such interesting discourse, and he had listened to her opinions without hastily dismissing them—it was wholly unexpected, leaving her perplexed and a little rattled.

“My circumstances are no affair of yours,” she said.

Hoping to place some distance between them so that she could compose her thoughts, she turned away from him, but he reached for the bookshelf beside her, blocking her path with his right arm. He was now closer to her than ever, and she detected the aroma of brandy upon him. Her pulse quickened. She had neglected to devise a strategy for her engagement with this patron, and she sensed the danger of not having done her due diligence, especially as she found herself responding in a most inconvenient fashion to his nearness.

About the Author

Em Brown writes erotic, mostly historical, romance. She especially enjoys wickedly wanton tales from the Georgian and Regency periods. For more about her stories, please visit www.EroticHistoricals.com, where you can sign up for a quarterly newsletter to be eligible for early peeks, freebies, and specials.

Anna Alexander: The Marlboro Man

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Anna will be awarding $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner, and a swag pack (international) to another randomly drawn winner, both via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About The Marlboro Man

For years Mark Webber was in love with his best friend’s girl, and it had become well past time for him to move on for greener pastures. Not long after he left, Mark realized the Sprawling A was his home, so now he’s back, ready to leave the past in the dust. While he was gone, there had been some changes at the A, including a new ranch hand who comes with a sister that stirs Mark’s passions in ways he never felt.

Gabriella Montoya has come to the ranch seeking shelter after a failed marriage. Not only is she welcomed with open arms, but she gains six big brothers. But one man doesn’t look at her like he would a sister. Oh, no. Mark gazes at her with a heat and promise in his eyes, and damn if he doesn’t deliver on every one. But Gabriella’s not certain she’s ready to embark on another relationship so soon with a man who has made no bones about wanting forever, especially when both of their pasts rise from the ashes and threaten everything they have.

The Cowboy WayA Night at the CavernHero Rising


Mark reached for a mug and poured himself some coffee. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she replied before he finished asking the question.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00019]“Gabriella.” The sharp crack in his tone made her gaze jump to his. “Really, how are you doing?” The set of his jaw and the earnest worry in his eyes told her that he wanted an honest answer and that it mattered to him.

She turned away from the temptation of leaning her head against that strong chest and poured the eggs onto the hot skillet. The bubbling yellow mixture was an excellent representation of how Mark’s gaze set her insides to quivering. “I don’t know. I’m standing. My body doesn’t ache. I have no clue what I am going to do, or where I’ll live, or how I’ll make any money. But I’m alive. That’s the most important thing. Right?”

“That’s a start. One step at a time. I have a feeling you’re going to be just fine.” There was a softness in his gaze that made her heart beat in triple time. “Gabriella—” he began then was interrupted by the pounding of heavy footfalls coming through the mudroom.

She almost dropped the hot pan in her hand as she watched the parade of fine male specimens coming through the door. They not only varied in height from tall to gigantic, but also in hair color and ages. Each was handsome in their own way, and so supremely virile her throat went dry just by being in their presence. No wonder Greta was pregnant.

About the Author

AuthorPhoto_TheMarlboroMan copyAnna Alexander’s literary world changed at age thirteen when a friend gave her a copy of Kathleen Woodiwiss’s A Rose in Winter. With her mind thoroughly blown, she decided that one day she too would be a romance writer. With Hugh Jackman’s abs and Christopher Reeve’s blue eyes as inspiration, she loves spinning tales about superheroes finding love.

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Elizabeth Davis: The Huntress

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Elizabeth Davis will be awarding $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About The Huntress

Kaitlin Hawthorne’s life as an heiress to her family’s multinational tech firm was over the moment she decided to pack up and flee with her father’s protégé. Determined to strike out on her own, she sets sail for parts unknown but is haunted by her past mistakes and the fiancée she has left behind. Will the sins of her past ruin her chance for happiness with the man of her dreams?

Marcelo Alesi is a reformed bad boy, primed to revolutionize the tech industry. But an unexpected proposition convinces him to abandon his carefully laid plans for the chance to reclaim the only woman he has ever loved; even if it means playing fast and hard with the truth.

As the two embark on a journey, Kaitlin is drawn into the mysterious organization known as “The Order”. Distrustful of the Order’s motives, and concealing secrets of his own, Marcelo fights to protect and love Kaitlin, the woman he has claimed as his own.

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BookCover_TheHuntress copy“I’ve forced us to cross too many lines in our friendship. I’ve complicated things between us in so many ways, especially when I took the role of a Huntress.”

“Like I said, I’m always here for you and I’ll never stand in your way. Don’t back down from what you really want because of me,” he grated.

“You can’t promise me forever. We’re on separate paths,” Kaitlin argued.

Marcelo fell silent. Is that what she really wanted, forever with him? Finally, she was starting to open up. Although she was right about them being on separate paths, but he’d never give her ammunition by admitting it.

All he knew was that he wanted her. Had always wanted her. More than anything that he’d ever wanted in his life. But he also wanted greatness, and his vision was too grand to carry out while sailing the world on the Meridian.

Kaitlin’s words only reinforced his belief that she could discard him if she had to, but he couldn’t bring himself to confront her. Still, he wouldn’t let her push him out of her life.

“I don’t want us to separate, Kaitlin. We’ll make it work somehow. Unless…”

“Unless?” Chills shot up Kaitlin’s spine. She didn’t like the gravity in Marcelo’s voice or the way that he looked at her.

“Unless you think we’re a mistake,” he said.

About the Author

Born in Houston, TX, in 1974, Elizabeth Davis started writing at an early age. Her first book was written for an elementary school assignment when she was eight years old. It was called Silly Excuses—a book about fantastic excuses young children can tell their parents when they have been naughty. Not only did she pass the assignment with flying colors, her teacher loved the book so much that she had it published in the school library. Elizabeth has been writing ever since. Elizabeth earned her B.A. from Bowie State University in Communications Media. Her hobbies include reading, baking, traveling with her family, and life coaching. She currently resides in The Netherlands with her husband Pawel, their son Aiden, and Hermes, the family cat.