Characters and how you wound them #MFRWauthor

Your characters: made them have disabilities?

I didn’t consciously set out to give Adrian Bryce, Perilous Love, a disability until he and Gabrielle were hiding from German soldiers in a hay loft.

Adrian’s life of wealth and beautiful women came to an abrupt end when the British Secret Service ordered him to accompany his estranged wife Gabrielle to Belgium. They wanted evidence her uncle was supporting the German Empire. What Adrian found, as the Germans crossed the Belgian border sparking World War One, had them running for their lives. It’s in this loft, that Gabrielle learns of Adrian’s infidelities, his lies and his secret life. Then, when it’s safe to climb down, he falls breaking bones in his foot. This injury is a great leveller, not only is there a price on his head, he can’t walk and must rely on the woman he’d shamefully neglected to get them to safety.

Not many people survive a war without physical or emotional injuries.

Harry Connelly, The Proposition, was one of the ‘what the hell’ soldiers.  He enlisted to escape arrest and a wife who despised him. On the eve of the Battle of Amiens, he meets Andrew Conroy, a man with no family. In the thick of that huge battle a bayonet slices through Harry’s leg and he collapses beside the body of Andrew Conroy. Could he? It’s a huge risk, it’s his only hope.  Harry swaps identity discs. Now Andrew Conroy, he’s one of the thousands of casualties and injuries in overcrowded hospitals, and eventually discharged as medically unfit with a leg that leaves him lame. Months later, the impact of this deception hits home when an unknown cousin of the dead man finds him. What follows pushes Andrew into a nightmare of murder and deception. His disability will be his alibi and almost his downfall when he meets Lacey, with secrets of her own. The only way to get to the truth is tell her the truth.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

Perilous Love
The Proposition
The Woman Behind the Mirror
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

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My first series: historical ménage romance #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Regan by Jenna StewartRegan: the Sisters O’Ryan series by Jenna Stewart
Historical ménage romance
In 1872 Oregon, two unusual men show widow Regan O’Ryan Stone the promise of the far West—where dreams and fantasies can flourish.

Blurb:
Joining in the westward migration, Davey and Regan O’Ryan Stone bought an Oregon farm sight unseen, hungering for adventure. Davey regretted the impulse far past the point of no return, and then he died. Now, unskilled and alone on her farm, Regan fears going home a failure—as a daughter, a wife and a farmer. With money quickly running out, she gladly accepts the offer of help from Seth Pratt, an acquaintance from the wagon train, and his friend Haywood Lawrence.

One-armed Seth seeks work at the remote farm at the end of an Oregon trail with low expectations. When he finds Regan, alone and widowed, he tamps down desire. She deserves better than a man handicapped in war, searching for his soul. She’s worthy of someone like his Shakespeare-spouting, best friend, Hay. Nothing could have prepared Seth for Regan’s simple solution—that both men stay. On the farm and in her bed.

Buy links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Publisher

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
“I might not have recognized her right off, but I sure haven’t ever forgotten her, Koda,” he whispered. “She’s alone out here, and she needs help.” The horse nodded his head and then whinnied. “You’re right,” Seth conceded. “It’s too much to think there’s a place for me here.”

Koda stomped his front left hoof and shook his mane, before calmly munching on another mouthful of straw.

Seth clicked his tongue. “I know. There’s no need my arguing with the notion.”

“So you do carry on conversations with your horse, Mr. Pratt.”

Seth spun around, dropping the brush. “Mrs. Stone. I didn’t hear you.”

She smiled. “I only came down to make sure you found everything to your satisfaction.”

“The bunkroom is nice, and Koda is very happy with his stall.”

She stepped forward and stroked the Appaloosa’s nose. “He’s beautiful. What does Koda mean?”

“It’s Sioux for friend.”

“Well named.” Regan took a carrot from her pocket and fed it to the horse. She gestured toward the pinto in the neighboring stall. “That’s Twinkle. It’s Carolinian for she makes my eyes shine. At least according to my daddy. He says when he gave her to me for my fifteenth birthday, my eyes lit up. He named the horse on the spot.” She strolled over to feed Twinkle a carrot, too.

Hay came around the stall and leaned on the post. Seth didn’t care at all for the familiar way his eyes followed Regan Stone’s every movement. Then Seth leaned against Koda and gave in, watching her graceful walk. Her voice fell on his ears like a melody. Auburn tendrils escaped from a loose bun and framed her small, round face. Her father had named the horse aptly. Her eyes did twinkle, but not just when she looked at the pinto. Her height lent her a regal air. He longed to hold her against him. With her slender frame and unusual height, they would fit perfectly.

Don’t think about it. It will never happen.

Meet Dee/Anne/Jenna:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Where to find her (them):
Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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Spies, lies, and lovely gold #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Lies of Gold by Jan Selbourne

Lies of Gold–Winner of Silver for Best Historical Book 2019 (Coffee Pot Book Club)

Blurb:
Silent, ruthless, protected by an unknown ally in Whitehall, he smuggles gold across the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte. When flimsy evidence points to the Essex coast, three men are given secret orders to find the traitor. One of those men, Julian Ashford, has his life transformed into debts and disgrace and sent back to Halton Hall, and Katherine the woman he loved and lost. What Julian discovers within the walls of his ancestral home is much deeper and more sinister than he thought possible, but nothing could prepare him for the betrayal when he finally faces the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Best Historical Book Silver medalBuy links:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/s?k=lies+of+gold+jan+selbourne&crid=ZPCFE9GJ8D80&sprefix=lies+of+gold+%2Caps%2C351&ref=nb_sb_ss_ac-a-p_1_13

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lies-of-gold-jan-selbourne/1126283045?ean=9781945146268

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35084198-lies-of-gold?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=gHqpV4JA7O&rank=1

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
Major Julian Ashford’ looked up at the yellowing plaster ceiling and down to the clock above the mantelpiece. Thirty minutes ago, he’d entered the cluster of buildings under the control of The Secretary of State for War and walked up one flight of stairs to the office of Brigadier Sir Ian MacDonald. A corporal had pointed to a wooden bench and the clock continued to tick. Julian drew a deep breath and studied his boots.

When MacDonald finally turned around, the full force of the old soldier’s legendary temper hit him like a brick. The furious tirade continued until MacDonald stopped for breath and picked up a sheet of paper.

“Now this,” the offending item was flapped in Julian’s face. “You were drunk at a respectable gaming establishment and damn near killed a Spanish diplomat, a Spanish nobleman no less. With Napoleon Bonaparte mobilizing again and Europe on edge I cannot believe your utter stupidity.”

Julian glared at the man who had always reminded him of a powerful lion. Large and muscular with a mane of iron grey hair and fierce eyes that never wavered from their prey.

“Who claimed I nearly killed a Spanish diplomat?”

“His aide, you threatened him as well.”

Julian shrugged and looked at the floor. “The Spaniard was cheating at cards.  I demanded to see his hand, he refused so I challenged him to go outside for satisfaction.”

“You broke his nose and three ribs and knocked him senseless,” MacDonald’s fist slammed into the desk. “I am thoroughly ashamed of you. Your debts go back over twelve months and now the Jews refuse you credit. One damned scandal after the other. I’m told you had sex with Rutherford’s wife in her sitting room while he was upstairs playing cards!”

“Rutherford’s wife was more than willing. What would you have done? Refuse the lady?” Julian scowled at the Brigadier. “Who fed that juicy snippet into your waiting ears?”

“I will not tolerate your insolence, sir! You are a disgrace to your regiment.”

“I’m no longer in the regiment,” Julian snapped. “Don’t prose on about it.”

MacDonald’s face turned dark red. “You deserve to rot in a cell,” he picked up a thick folder. “Your service records. The only reason I am begging their Lordships’ indulgence to keep you out of Newgate. I have decided you will return to Halton Hall and remain there until the Spaniard recovers and your string of scandals die down,” he glowered at Julian. “For your sake, I hope the Spaniard recovers.”

Julian thumped his fist on MacDonald’s desk. “I will not return to Halton Hall.”

“It is your ancestral home and nobody else would want you.”

“I don’t care if it’s the home of my ancestors nor do I care if the late Earl of Ballingford and the moronic Honourable Martin Ashford are my cousins, I will not return there. Nor can you make me.”

MacDonald’s cold eyes met Julian’s. “I can and I am. Your family name and my influence stand between you and a long stretch behind bars or seven years in the New South Wales penal colony.” MacDonald’s eyebrows rose. “Why so reluctant?  Ballingford’s dead. His brother is now in residence as guardian of the children and estates until the young Earl reaches his majority. I have dispatched a letter to Martin Ashford, I don’t expect him to refuse me.”

“You’ve already told Martin?” Julian exploded. “Have I no choice in this matter?”

“No, unless you want me to personally deliver you to the prison’s welcoming arms.” MacDonald glared irritably at the corporal and clerk behind him. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Their eyes darted between MacDonald and Julian. “You told us to wait, Brigadier,” the corporal stammered.

“Well, get out.”

“Yes, off you go gentlemen,” Julian sneered. “I am having a small wager with myself on how long it will take for you to spread this new morsel around Town. Forty-eight hours? You’ll put the gossipy washerwomen to shame.”

MacDonald returned to his desk. “Get out of my sight, Major Ashford. I’ve washed my hands of you.” He waited until they were alone before speaking softly “Take great care, Julian. Don’t let your guard down for a minute.”

About Jan:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne/

https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne

https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

https://nomadauthors.com/

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Do you know who you’re talking to?? #MFRWauthor

I told Jack once that if our marriage ever ended for whatever reason, I would never date again—I’d enter a convent. That convent part might have been a bit of hyperbole, but I was pretty serious about never dating again. Dating takes a lot of effort. And time. Do you know how long it takes to feel comfortable enough with someone before you don’t die of embarrassment if you accidentally let go a little wind? No thanks. I dated for a few years in my life and that was plenty enough. Been there, done that, got the tee shirt.

But even if I were interested in dating again, I would never, ever have the courage to go online. I mean, do you even know who you’re talking to?? Okay, sure, there are lots of anecdotal stories out there about people who connected online and lived happily ever after. Even I know personally of three stories where people met online and got married. But what is that against the number of failures? Women meet enough frogs who want to be kissed in real life without having to go online to meet them, too.

So, my vote is no to online dating. So far never had to, and never plan to, either. Women should meet guys and be disappointed—or thrilled—the old-fashioned way, face-to-face.

That’s just my opinion, What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

This modern age! #MFRWauthor

Online dating – have you? Would you?

Online datingNo, when I was dating there was no ‘online’ as we know it today, although there have been forms of online dating for years – the personals in newspapers.

Would I? I don’t think so, I’m not that brave.

The closest I got to dating someone I’d never met before was a blind date. I was a bundle of nerves. My clothes, my hair, would he take one look and run? Worse, what would he look like? Fortunately, we didn’t run in opposite directions and had a lovely evening.

However, someone I know very well did test the online dating waters. She was at a crossroads in life, not sure which way to go and took the plunge. After chatting with a few people from various parts of the world, she connected with an American guy. I didn’t worry about this harmless chatting, after all she was in Australia, he was safely tucked away on the other side of the Pacific. Just like pen friends in the old days.

That changed when she decided to travel to America to meet him.Meeting someone online
Dumbstruck, I spluttered, “Are you insane? Who is he, where does he live? Don’t you know con men and axe murderers lure unsuspecting females this way?” Finally, “You’re bloody mad.”

Undeterred, my daughter, who hates flying, travelled to the USA to meet the axe murderer. They clicked. She flew home, applied for her visa which was approved, and returned to the States. A couple of years later they married, she became a conditional permanent resident, then full permanent resident. Her citizenship application was approved on 9/11/2018.

I’ve enjoyed some wonderful holidays in the USA with my daughter and son in law and the bonuses that came with it. Visiting the beautiful Michigan Upper Peninsula and Niagara Falls are just two.
Now COVID has all of us confined to quarters, I’m grateful for ‘online’, where we can chat to friends and families on Skype and Facetime until it’s safe to travel again.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

The Woman Behind the Mirror
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Oops! This won’t work #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
Men and women of the armed forces experience lust and love pretty much like everyone else. Except, well, there is that uniform. And the hard-to-resist attraction of “duty, honor, service” as a man might apply them to a woman’s pleasure. All things considered, romance among the military is a pretty sexy, compelling force for which you’d better be armed, whether weighing anchor and moving forward into desire, dropping anchor and staying put for passion, or setting a course for renewed love with anchor home. Explore the world of love and the military and see just how hot Naval Maneuvers can be.

Dropping Anchor (securing movement by dropping the anchor): Two people find (surprisingly) that they are both in the Navy and love their chosen professions—until one turns out to be an officer but not a gentleman and the other is a gentleman but not an officer.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:

Carie made her way around the side of the building and nearly ran into Todd, who lounged against the weathered wood siding. He looked better than good in a pale blue polo shirt and jeans. Top-Sider boat shoes with no socks gave him that naturally casual look that no model could successfully carry out.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said.

“You were pretty obvious,” she said dryly.

“I knew you were smart enough to catch the hint. I just didn’t know if you’d follow it.”

How could she not? The moment she noticed him she’d remembered the feel of his being deep inside her. But that didn’t change a damn thing. They shouldn’t be here, not together.

She held her head high and tried to look down her nose at him—nearly impossible since he was taller than she, but she had perfected the attitude long before meeting Todd Baxter. Senior Chief Todd Baxter. “I wanted to walk the beach while I was here, that’s all.” Todd grinned and Carie melted inside.

“Lucky for me, I wanted to walk the beach, too,” he said. “Quite a coincidence, huh?”

She snorted in disbelief and slipped off her sandals. Brushing by him, she was glad he didn’t try to kiss her or hold her. But then she frowned. Why didn’t he try to kiss her? She’d wanted to jump his bones right there in that Norfolk hallway. They had to maintain propriety then, but here, no one would see them. What held him back? She knew an unfamiliar sense of self-doubt. Had she mistaken his feelings before?

Nonsense. Carie knew what they’d had was more than mere lust. It had been lust of stupendous proportions, far beyond a few days of burning out. Then what held him back? Knowing the military regulations preventing officers and enlisted personnel from having a relationship, you idiot.

Damn. She finally found someone she clicked with, and he had to be an enlisted man in the Navy.

The sand felt good between her toes, cool and squishy. Gulls screeched overhead and on the sand, where they snatched up sand crabs and poked around for scraps sunbathers might have left. Surf pounded to the shore and then surged forward, the sharp white of its foam sharp against the dark, wet sand before the water was absorbed. The sun beat down, making her wish she’d worn her bathing suit under her jeans and tank top so she could take a quick dip, and remembered to bring a floppy hat to shield her face.

Suddenly, something was plopped on her head. She dragged it off to look at it. SFC Baxter was stamped on the inside of a white sailor hat, brim folded down.

“I kept it for sentimental purposes when I made chief,” Todd said. When she raised her brows, he continued. “I brought it in case you came without a cover. I remember you were sensitive to the sun when we went to pick up your clothes.” He smiled. “And I know you’re quick to freckle. Not that I don’t like your freckles a great deal. Ma’am.”

She cringed at his use of “Ma’am,” though it was the proper term for him to use when a superior officer was a woman. But she smiled inside that he’d remembered such a small thing like the sensitivity to the sun suffered by all redheads. Chagrined, she put the hat on and pulled it forward, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“After all that time in North Carolina, how in hell did we never mention what we did for a living?” She couldn’t believe her stupidity. Martha had nothing on her for not asking the right questions.

“In Carolina we had lots of other things on our minds. I knew you’re a lawyer. When I thought of you, I never wondered how you spent your time at work. I just thought of how you spent your time with me.”

“That’s pretty shallow.”

Todd laughed. “Not to a man.”

Stupid answer. But it had been his very maleness that captivated her. Well, and orgasms. Who’s shallow now?

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A reflection from behind the mirror #MFRWHooks

The Woman Behind the Mirror by Jan SelbourneThe Woman Behind the Mirror

Blurb
Because of an arranged marriage to a man who repulses her, Sarah Forsythe runs away with the son of a minister. Not to Gretna Green, to the New World. Instead of a country filled with hope and possibilities, Sarah finds broken promises, abandonment, and shame. And her timing couldn’t be worse! After the infamous “tea party,” the siege of Boston worsens as the Americans rebel against Great Britain. Desperate for money, Sarah breaks open a safe only to find a bundle of Bank of England documents. Sensing they are of value, she guards them during the long, difficult journey from Boston back to England.

Bank investigator Neil McAlister doesn’t believe this woman who claims she “found” the documents and wants a reward in exchange for them—until he’s faced with two men using the same name and sharing nearly identical stories, each saying the documents belong to him. Who is lying? In time, Neil becomes aware that something is very wrong. As his feelings for her grow, he needs to know who wants the beautiful, defiant, and secretive Sarah dead?

Buy links

Amazon Kindle Unlimited
Goodreads

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt
When the small clock on her mantlepiece chimed seven fifteen, Sarah patted her hair and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the staircase again and into the small breakfast room

“Good morning, may I join you?”

Robert put down the paper he was reading. “I prefer to breakfast alone if you don’t mind. Hannah doesn’t arise until after I leave.”

Sarah pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ve been absent from England for some time, but I have not forgotten our customs. I want to speak with you about your holier than thou sermon to me last night, and I want to ask you a question.”

Robert’s face darkened. “I will remind you that you are in my home and if you wish to remain here you will abide by my decisions.”

Sarah reached over to grip Robert’s wrist. “I did a very stupid thing running away with David. I was young and so naïve it was pathetic. I have paid for my stupidity in more ways than you will ever know. However, I will tell you the siege of Boston was much worse than you, in your safe cocoon could imagine. Along with many others, I was forced into an infirmary for survival. The conditions were appalling but the alternative was starvation or disease or be murdered on the street for our clothes. Nova Scotia was not much better.”

Robert didn’t move.

“Your condemning letter was the only communication I had from home. You made it very clear I was shameful and shamed, and I could not argue with that. Then your letter inviting me here was a gift from the gods. I have paid for my sins and you have no right inviting me here to condemn me with your self-righteous judgements. Nor do I have to live here under sufferance listening to them. I have learned of Lady Webber’s new benevolent home for destitute women and I have decided to go there. It won’t matter to the inmates who I am or what I have done. What they and the benefactors will think of you is not my concern.”

Robert’s face was rigid with shock. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Her fingernails dug into his wrist. “I can be as ridiculous as I wish. Now, I have a question and I’d like a truthful answer. You told me our father disapproved of Hannah. You defied him and married her. He decreed you’d married beneath your class and turned his back. How that must have hurt Hannah who has done no wrong. Tell me, why are you trying to be a replica of him? Pompous, autocratic, a dreadful snob and an unfeeling husband who delights in putting his nice, gentle wife down.”

Sarah sat back in her chair. “Papa decreed Hannah wasn’t good enough. I don’t think you are good enough for her.”

“You have no right speaking to me in such a fashion!”

“I have spoken to you and if you have half a brain you will admit I spoke the truth.” Her eyes narrowed. “I am not the innocent, protected girl running away from a prison of a home and a ghastly father who treated mama and all of us so badly. What I endured made me grow up and I learned that men are overbearing, selfish, spineless creatures. You are disappointed in me Robert? I am more than disappointed in you.”

“You’ve said more than enough,” Robert said icily.

“I’ve said exactly what I wanted to say. I had intended asking your advice on two important matters. One, some papers I found in Boston and two, a young woman I met who, I believe deserves some justice. However, I doubt you’d lower yourself.”

Sarah stood up and walked from the room drained but relieved the load on her chest had lifted. “Why?” she whispered. “One stupid mistake and I pay for the rest of my life.”

Yes, the voice in her head agreed. No one wants tainted, soiled goods. Live with it or enter a convent.

“Oh, shut up!” Sarah snapped but her throat was already aching. Dipping a handkerchief in the jug of water, she wiped her face and looked out the window. Spread out below were the rear gardens and orchard bathed in soft morning sun. She would love a garden like that.

A knock on the door made her jump.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?” Hannah asked softly.

Hastily wiping her eyes, Sarah turned around. “Of course.”

“I wanted to speak with Robert before he left this morning. The door was slightly ajar, and I heard what you said.”

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Exhibition #MFRWsteam

Your Desire by Dee S. KnightYour Desire

Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold ad the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?

Buy link:
Amazon

MFRW SteamExcerpt:

Suddenly, the music stopped. All lights on the dance floor went out. Seconds later, a slow number began. Without the moving strobes criss-crossing the room, it was surprising how lighting from the table area illuminated the dance floor. When he raised his head, Derica saw Kailen’s hooded eyes had darkened. He wrapped his hands over her butt and pulled her closer, until she almost forgot where they were.

Like a well-choreographed dance, they swayed together, her hips grinding his, her nipples scraping his chest.

“God, I want you,” he said into her ear. Reaching under her skirt, he stroked her cheeks. She spread her legs enough for him to slip his fingers between her lips. “You’re so wet.” Leaning back so he could look at her, he asked, “Have you ever made love in a public place?”

Shocked yet titillated, she shook her head. Licking her lips, she glanced at the slowly moving couples around them.

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her off the floor. Behind their table, a hallway extended to the back of the building. A few feet along the hall was a short offshoot.

A black pay phone hung on one side. Kailen backed her up opposite it. His tongue filled her mouth while his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, then his shirt. Skin to skin, he pushed against her, side to side and up until she stretched on her toes to meet him. She felt his hands fumbling with the button, then lowering the zipper on his jeans. His firm hands grasped her thighs and pushed her skirt to her hips. With his hand under her knee, he brought her leg to his waist, then thrust into her in one swift drive.

“Oh!” From a distance she heard people passing, even making comments about the couple fucking by the pay phone, but nothing mattered except this need, this itch, the feeling of completeness she felt when Kailen filled her. Each hard thrust took her a step closer to climax.

“I think Sandra would like to be where I am now,” she said in his ear, panting to get the words out. The way the woman had looked at Kailen, as though she owned him, tore at Derica. If that was him with her in the painting….

He grunted. “She’s a bitch. Nick should drop her.”

“She wants you.” The thought of people around them, their public display, the reassurance that Kailen was here with her, pushed her on. Just a little more and she’d be free of this burning ache low in her belly.

“She’s a bitch in heat. She wants every man. Except Nick, and that’s what drives him crazy. It’s been that way since they met, modeling for me.” He raised his head, holding himself still inside her. “Do you wish it was her with me instead of you?”

Her low, hard laugh took her by surprise. “I’d pull out every strand of her hair if I found her back here with you. And then I’d get nasty.”

His chuckle warmed her. “That’s my girl.” Then his smile disappeared. His gaze dropped to her lips and he took them in an almost savage conquest. His cock drove into her, giving her everything she craved.

The metal of his zipper teased the tender skin of her thighs. His open mouth found her shoulder where he sucked and then scraped her with his teeth. Without warning she felt herself soaring. She held her breath, trembling, unable to speak or even moan. But Kailen moaned, pressing his forehead to hers, pulsing inside her and holding himself rigid as he climaxed.

He dropped her leg and sagged against her. “I don’t think I can move.”

Breathing in short, shallow pants, coming down from her own high, she knew how he felt. With effort, she raised her arms to wrap around his back. Someone behind them cleared his throat. Kailen pushed away from the wall and turned, shielding her with his body.

“Thanks for the show,” a soft voice said, then footsteps moved off.

Read some steam from other authors. Click the link below.

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New Release! Through the Lens by Adriana Kraft

Through the Lens by Adriana KraftAbout Our Story
Does your family history contain scandal? Ours does, as recently as my mother’s grandfather, who was born a bastard in an era when that status carried far more stigma than now. His mother – a logger’s daughter who served as a camp cook – was shunned and shamed for much of her life. On the other side, my husband’s grandfather was a bigamist. A threshing crew foreman in the early 1900s, he married and had children in Missouri, then married again in Kansas. My husband’s grandmother divorced him when she learned of the other family; their son, my husband’s father, was ten years old.

We blessed—or perhaps cursed—our Through the Lens heroine with elements of these scandals. Naturally, she’s heard some of the stories. Through the Lens chronicles her struggle with these long-forgotten roots. Will she claim them, or run the other way?

Blurb

Prairie roots can be deceptive. Will Ellen Jeffers cling to the sedate past that’s familiar, or will she embrace a different version of her history—one that includes tragedy, scandal, fortitude, and freedom?

It’s 2002, and South Dakota third grade teacher Ellen Jeffers has signed up for a photography summer course and assistantship at an art academy in Minneapolis. Thirty-three, divorced for nearly a decade from her college boyfriend, she’s not seeking major change. She just hopes the course will enhance her teaching skills and her resume.

Aaron Brewster comes from privilege, and he has used that status to flaunt his family’s values and carve out a successful career as a photographer specializing in black and white erotic portraiture. Has he ever loved? His love is for beauty, sensuality, eroticism. His new uptight teaching assistant will never fit that vision. Should he send her packing? For reasons he cannot fathom, he takes her on as a challenge.

Aaron’s frontal assault shocks Ellen, but it also triggers something deep inside she’s never been willing to acknowledge. Is her beloved prairie a safe refuge, or will it become a crucible for transformation? The choice is not merely Ellen’s.

Buy Links

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Through-Lens-Adriana-Kraft-ebook/dp/B08BZXMNNW/

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/through-the-lens-adriana-kraft/1137261501?ean=2940164557683

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/through-the-lens-5
Extasy https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2955-3-through-the-lens/
GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54475455-through-the-lens

Through the Lens by Adriana KraftReviews and Endorsements for Adriana Kraft Books

Wow, what an incredible book! Not only is The Merry Widow a gripping, romantic suspense but the heat level is hotter than Death Valley… The ending took me by surprise and I was a little sad to see it end. I grew attached to the characters and wanted to stay in their world a little bit longer. The Merry Widow will be on my keeper shelf and one I will be re-reading again and again. Highly recommend!   N. N. Light

Their romance is hot in all the right places…If you love romance with more than two people, you’re going to love this book! Seducing Cat is a must read! The TBR Pile

Filled with warmth, blazing hot sex, well-developed characters and an interesting plot…not for the faint of heart.  If you are looking for an interesting story filled with scorching hot erotica, author Adriana Kraft’s novel Vegas Gambler is the book for you. Romance Junkies

Ms. Kraft has a gift for pleasing the reader with vivid imagery and erotic language. Fasten your seat belts – Cherry Tune-Up is one hot ride that you don’t want to miss. Romance Junkies

Definitely recommended The Reunion sizzled as two incredibly sexy women and one gorgeous guy form a super hot triad, eventually. These three are by far and away the best smoldering trio I have read about. Oh, bring on more of this, but read this one first!  Rainbow Reviews

About Adriana Kraft

When it’s Time to Heat Things Up

Award winning author Adriana Kraft is a married couple writing Sizzling Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More. Whether readers open our romantic suspense or our erotic romance, they can expect characters they care about, hot sex scenes, and a compelling story. Our suspense stories deliver one man, one woman, danger and intrigue. Our erotic romance is edgier and nearly always includes ménage or polyamory, sometimes with two women and a man, sometimes with two (or more) couples. We write our Erotic Romance stories to entertain, of course, but most of all we write them because we believe in happy endings for all who fall in love, whatever their gender, sexual orientation or numerical combination.

Social Media Links

Website: https://adrianakraft.com
Blog: https://www.adrianakraft.com/blog
Newsletter: free download of our erotic romance novella Cherry Tune-Up for signing up.

Twitter https://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/adriana.kraft.5
FaceBook Fan Page https://www.facebook.com/AdrianaKraftAuthor
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/author/adrianakraft
GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1578571.Adriana_Kraft
Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/adrianakraft5/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/kraftadriana/
BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/adriana-kraft

Adriana KraftExcerpt

Fixing his gaze on the rather stoic woman sitting across from him at the small table in his academy office, Aaron Brewster tried his best to get a good read on her. He’d spent much of his life reading women—their moods and their desires. He’d developed a reputation for being adept at capturing feminine subtleties in black and white.

Ellen Jeffers was one of those rare women who defied immediate description. She vacillated between projecting an air of haughtiness—which he supposed came with being a schoolteacher who seldom believed her audience understood her—to projecting an air of innocence characteristic of a girl from the South Dakota prairie making her way in the unfamiliar big city. And in between those poles, he witnessed prim and proper, mystery, smugness, disdain, awe, shyness, self-censure, and thankfully a spark or two of humor.

If she was going to work with him, he’d have to get her in front of the camera. It was through the camera lens that he could best sort out the nuances of a woman and his own feelings about her. Keeping his smile to himself, he wondered if his summer teaching assistant had ever posed in the nude.

He needed help with his tits-and-ass study, but the way Ellen Jeffers blanched at some of nude pics hanging on his office walls, he wasn’t sure she’d be helpful with that project. He’d take a wait-and-see position about her usefulness. At the very least, he needed an assistant comfortable enough in her own skin to help models prepare themselves for the scrutiny of the camera.

“Do you only do nude portraits?” Ellen asked, glancing quickly from one photo to another and back to him.

“Some subjects are partially clad,” he said dryly. “So does nudity bother you, Ellen? Is it okay if I call you Ellen? Given how close we’ll be working together, first names seem more natural.”

“Of course, please do.”

“And nudity?” He arched an eyebrow. “You are comfortable with nudity, right? You’ve been married. You’ve hung around art students, and you applied to this program.”

“My undergraduate college didn’t allow nude modeling.” She didn’t blink. “I had hoped to expand my knowledge of landscape photography or taking action pictures of children.”

“I see. You’re avoiding my question, but that’s okay. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t select you as my teaching assistant. You were the only person available when I returned from a conference. So if you want to blame someone for your misfortune, blame my colleagues. This is sort of like going on a blind date.” He paused. “I’ve only been on one. I didn’t like it.”

Ellen’s laughter came quick and a little harsh. “At least we can agree on that.” She swallowed. “So I guess it’s safe to assume that you don’t do weddings, family portraits and such.”

He shook his head. He’d love to have a window into the strawberry blonde’s brain as she appeared to check off her options. She didn’t have many, and he knew it. She could go back to South Dakota, but he’d already witnessed her grit. Ellen Jeffers wouldn’t run if she could manage at all.

She smacked her lips. “I haven’t spent much time around nudity”—she gave him a wry smile—”and much of that was in the dark. It may take me a while, but I’m sure I’ll be comfortable enough.”

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My right, privilege and duty #MFRWauthor

Voting BoothI couldn’t wait to vote! It was something to aspire to, like getting my driver’s license or going away to school. So the very first election after turning 21 I voted, by golly, and I haven’t missed a presidential election yet. I admit that I don’t always vote in local elections, and that’s because as adults, Jack and I moved so much I never got involved enough to find out who was running and what they stood for. But even when we were on the road trucking—through two presidential elections—we made sure to vote absentee.

So why do I feel so strongly about presidential, gubernatorial, state, and congressional elections? Those people make laws that affect all of us. When we were driving, they made laws that affected transportation, like making a national speed limit. When we were contracting, they determined tax law. Even now, they decide changes in withholding, social security and whether or not we have to wear masks when outdoors. If we don’t vote, we shouldn’t complain about the government’s doings.

Our forefathers have proven over and over how brilliant they were whenVote forming the U.S. government. The electoral college makes sure that states like where I live have a say in who becomes president, just like the big states. If not for it, the states with high populations would always determine our president. They decided on a representative form of government. And then they left it up to the people to elect their representatives. It’s our responsibility to do so or the system falls apart.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

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