Wednesday, October 29, 2014
TITLE – Spooky Sojourn SERIES – N/A AUTHOR – Ashley Ladd GENRE – Erotic Paranormal Romance PUBLICATION DATE – October 23, 2014 LENTH (Pages/# Words) – 50,000 PUBLISHER – Totally Bound at https://www.totallybound.com COVER ARTIST – Emmy Ellis
BOOK BLURB / SYNOPSIS
Someone’s trying to kill Deanna, but is it the ghosts she doesn’t believe in, the rich socialite who might be a murderess, or someone else with a beef against The Gilroy Hotel and Resort that Deanna has just been hired to manage? The Gilroy’s owners want the ghosts, or whoever is causing the trouble at the hotel eliminated, and they are pressuring Deanna to do the job as quickly as possible. Harry DeVeaux, paranormal investigator comes highly recommended to do the job and against Deanna’s better judgment, she hires him.
Although Deanna thinks Harry’s crazy for believing in ghosts and Harry thinks Deanna has a closed mind to the possibilities of ghosts and they highly annoy each other, sparks fly. Deanna can’t help but fantasize about Harry and inspired by a romance convention visiting her hotel, writes her fantasies in a private blog that Harry finds, hacks, and reads. Ooh la la!
BUY & TBR LINKS
It would also be a shame to let a private hotel room go to waste when it contained such a beautiful sexy woman, so he moved closer and leaned against the wall beside her, letting his breath tickle her neck as he gazed down at her. He lifted a strand of her silky hair and let it sift through his fingers. Her heady scent wafted up to him, making him want to bury himself in her. Was it cherries? Maybe apple blossoms? “My heart almost gave out when your car went up in flames and I saw you thrown back. I was afraid you’d been hurt…or worse.” Her breath caught audibly, and she worried her lower lip with her small, perfect teeth for a moment. Then she gazed up at him with sorrowful eyes. “It must have reminded you of losing your wife.” “Not for a minute. I was worried you were hurt. That I’d lose you.” He traced the line of her jaw with the pad of his thumb and shivered when he felt her tremble. So she wasn’t immune to him. Good. Very good. Her lashes fluttered and her irises grew dark. She shrank against the wall as if unsure what to do next. Then resolution gathered in her eyes. “Oh! Well, uh, I should go. I’m sure I’ve been missed. A manager never rests.” To his dismay, she ducked under his arm and escaped to the door. When she tried to turn the handle, however, it wouldn’t budge. Then she tried to turn the knob with both hands, pulling hard. Her eyes flashed fire. “What the hell? Can you help me? I can’t get out.” “Do you really have to go? Or do you just want to get away from me? Am I that repellant?” She looked as if she’d rather have fire ants crawl up her legs than answer his question. Before she could respond, he jumped in. “I have a confession.” She stopped trying to jar the door and her attention riveted on him, her forehead puckering. “Did you do something I need to know about?” Drawing in a long, shuddering breath, he look heavenwards and crossed his fingers behind his back hoping she wouldn’t throw something at him, hoping she’d be okay with his admission. “I found your blog and read it.” Paling, the blood fled from her flesh and her eyes looked like sooty coals against her face. Her gaze clashed with his and held. “How did you find it? I used a pseudonym and I put it on privacy settings.” He screwed up his lips, and scrubbed his hand over his face, preparing to tell more painful truths. “I’m a bit of a hacker and I like to research the people I’m working with.” Not sure she’d be receptive to his theory, he left out the part that he thought the ghosts led him to her sight. He thought they were closet romantics. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d locked them into the room now to force them into some alone time together. When a tsunami of emotions flitted across her face he tried to read them. Fury. Embarrassment. Lust? “You investigated me? You read my private musings?” “You wrote about me? In some very intimate ways. At least I presume it was me since you used my name.” He fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Did you?”
AUTHOR BIOAshley Ladd lives in South Florida with her husband, five children, and beloved pets. She loves the water, animals (especially cats), and playing on the computer.
She's been told she has a wicked sense of humour and often incorporates humour and adventure into her books. She also adores very spicy romance, which she weaves into her stories.
AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS
1 pdf ebook copy of Spooky Sojourn
Sunday, October 19, 2014
It's #MasturbationMonday and I hope you need a shot of good ole Tennessee whiskey after this snippet from my newest release with +Dark Hollows Press titled, Conceiving Evil.
Abby was caught leaving the movie theater with a male friend, violating her arrangement with Dorian. Knowing Abby is too embarrassed to masturbate in front of him, Dorian orders her to pleasure herself while he watches.
In the reflection of an antique mirror I saw Dorian open a silver box. I turned to face him, the pink dildo in his hand earning a sullen pout from my bottom lip. He ordered me to undress except for the shoes. He always wanted me to wear the shoes. He said they made my legs look longer.
Beautiful dread congealed, weighting my arms as I shucked off my clothes. Dorian knew how embarrassed I was to masturbate in front of him. He always granted me the liberty of doing it alone. With the reluctance of a child ordered to cut their own switch from a tree, hesitation had me pausing before I took the dildo from his hand.
I hugged my body as goose bumps broke out across my naked skin from both the impending embarrassment and the dip in room temperature. Dorian’s house was always cold. “But...it’s too chilly in here. Can’t I-”
“Miss Torrance,” he snapped.
I scraped back my hair, debating on pressing the issue further, but making Dorian happy made me happy. “Okay, where do you want me to do it? On...on the bed?”
“There,” he said, motioning to a chair, a shark’s grin on his face.
Slowly, I made my way to the chair, the thick upholstery uncomfortably rubbing my back as I adjusted my body. The seat was just wide enough to allow me wiggle room to open my legs and place them over the arms. My skin heated, then flushed in a tingly sweat when I felt my pussy exposed to the cool air. If shame could be smelled, I would be reeking of it. This was my punishment.
I didn’t realize the full extent of my nervousness until my fingers found and parted the dry folds of my pussy. Gently, I slid my middle finger inside, crooking it upward to stroke the sensitive spot, desperate to coax any moisture. My nipples were lengthening under the heat of his gaze, despite the fruitless effort below.
“May I have some lube?” My voice was low and squeaky.
“No.” He chuckled. “Try playing with your clit first.”
My face was flaming. I moved the pad of my index finger over my clit, circling and rubbing it while Dorian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, observing with cool confidence. He licked his lips in satisfaction and instructed me to pinch my nipples simultaneously. The mixtures of delicious sensations combined with the sight of Dorian’s arousal pressing against the front of his trousers increased my comfort level. In less than a minute, moisture surfaced, sliding over my sex.
My hips began moving in a wanton rhythm, pleasure consuming every nerve. With my thumb, I rubbed my clit faster and harder, thrusting my middle finger inside my heat until wetness trickled toward my anus. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, craving penetration. I slid the rough rubber-coated dildo inside and moaned with delight as the girth opened my pussy, filling and stretching me, providing a reasonable substitute for the real thing.
My body twitched as I moved the shaft in and out. Aware of how Dorian watched me so intently, I began to gasp and writhe. My thrusting became faster, deeper, my heart thudding with unspeakable pleasure. A tight circle of pressure wrapped around my loins, seeking its way up my spine when Dorian yelled a dispassionate, “Stop!”
He was denying me an orgasm, but I was too close. The tip put the final stroke on my g-spot when I pulled the dildo out, and the explosion ignited. Darts of ecstasy pulsed through my clit, inching into my extremities, helplessly hurling me like leaves in the autumn wind. I came so hard. The only thing that would’ve made my release more intense and fulfilling was if Dorian’s cock had been inside me, rather than leaving my pussy nothing to cling to but itself.
Conceiving Evil is now on tour, so throw your bags on the bus and tag along. Meet the characters, see the playlist, read the interviews and register to win free books. Click here for the schedule.
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