Tag: erotic romance

My Past, Your Future: New! from Gabbi Grey

Welcome, Gabbi!

My Past, Your Future
By Gabbi Grey

 
♥♥♥ GiveAway ♥♥♥
Gabbi is offering a $5 Amazon GC and 2 ebooks of My Past, Your Future during the giveaway. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win so be sure to follow along on the tour with us. You may find the tour locations here http://bit.ly/2OYUyh4
 
About My Past, Your Future:

Callum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph’s Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.

 
A hundred and fifty years ago, Elijah Freeman was killed during the Second Battle of Fort Wagner and woke up in Willow Springs, the only home he’d known. Alone, he roams the town, unable to leave or interact with a single soul until an intriguing Scot addresses him. Even stranger, the man can see him, hear him, and touch him–a sizzling caress that leaves Elijah aching for more.
 
But will Elijah return to his ghostly form when the magic of the solstice fades, or is Callum’s love enough to keep him in the land of the living?

 Genre: M/M Paranormal Erotic Romance

My Past, Your Future Buy Links:

Excerpt My Past, Your Future:

 “I’m not sure I have many answers.” And Elijah wasn’t. He’d figured a few things out over the years, but much of it was contradictory and nonsensical. Still, he relaxed a little, no longer on edge.

“Well, let’s start with you being able to touch people and them able to touch you.” As if experimentally, he placed his hand on Elijah’s. “You’re cold. Are you always cold, or is it the weather?”

Elijah cleared his throat. This was the first human touch he’d had in years, and it affected him more than he’d ever imagined. Not that he’d spent a lot of time wondering because he’d assumed it’d never happen. Should he have tried earlier, or was it, as he suspected, only this man?

Please don’t let go of my hand.

Cautiously, he curled his fingers, holding on tighter.

Callum reciprocated.

“As for temperature. I don’t understand. I don’t feel cold now, and I don’t feel hot in the summer. And summers around here can be brutal, despite how far north we are.”

Callum nodded. “Edinburgh, where I’m from, can get warm in the summer. But we’re closer to the northern point of the country, so it’s temperate as opposed to oppressive.”

His thumb caressed the juncture where Elijah’s thumb met his finger, and little zings shot through him. Like the sound he associated with the electric lights when they turned on at dusk. Of course, the whole concept of electricity was beyond him.

About the Author:

 I live surrounded by trees, raccoons, deer, and other woodland creatures, on a mountain in beautiful British Columbia where my fur baby chin poo keeps me safe from nasty bears.
Working for the government by day, I spend my nights writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances…and while I firmly believe in happy endings, I also believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.

 Gabbi’s Social Links:

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Men (and women) in uniform #MFRWHooks

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightBlurb from Naval Maneuvers:
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.

Book Hooks MFRW

Buy link: Amazon KU

Excerpt:
Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightShe cleared her throat. Finally concentrating on the map he held she asked, “Where are we again?” Jeez. The thing had to have every trail in the area on it. Even with this map, she’d be just as lost.

He studied the paper for a few seconds and then folded it so he could use one hand to hold it. With the other he pointed. “We’re here. I’d say if you head back west about a mile and then turn north you’ll run right into the campground.” Sure enough, right under his finger was a mark for Paradise Valley Campground. “About four miles should do it.”

“Four miles?”

“Done in?” He smiled and in the dappled sunlight his eyes twinkled and his straight teeth seemed blindingly white. He was good looking enough to be a model. An underwear model. Yeah, her mind’s eye pictured him in only underwear. She licked her lips.

Unfortunately, in her current state—more hair pulled loose from her ponytail than still in it, Redskins ball cap half on, half off, scratches on her arms and legs, and probably smears of grime from where she’d wiped sweat off her face—she must look more like a reject from Deliverance.

“I’ve been out since about ten and I’m not used to these mountains. I usually do my running on flat ground.”

“Did you have plenty of water with you and something to eat?”

“Water, yes. But only a cup of trail mix.”

He raised his brows until the right brow disappeared under the shock of hair on his forehead. “Where do you normally run?”

“Around D.C.”

“Ah. Where there’s a coffee shop every few blocks.”

Just because she was lost was no friggin’ cause for him to patronize her. “I normally run ten to fifteen miles a day with nary a coffee break. This is just my first time here, and I’m not quite used to the ups and downs.”

“They do call them ‘mountains.'”

And they do call them assholes. Shocks of sexual electricity and hyper-attraction did not excuse a man from being a dick. “You’re right. So right. Thanks for the help. I’ll be on my way now.” After consulting her compass once more she started west, the thought of four miles draining what was left of her energy. But she could do it. Four miles was nothing. Nothing. She did more than that every day of the week.

A branch knocked the cap off her head just as a vine caught her leg and she fell, sliding on her butt into a shallow ravine. Her hair clung to her neck and face. She pulled strands out of her mouth, off her forehead and back behind her ears. When had she last been this hot, sweaty, and just plain exhausted? Maintains one, Carie zero.

Leaves rustled behind her and over her head. “You can make the four miles,” he called down to her. “I don’t have any doubts about it. Or you can walk half a mile to the road and I’ll drive you.”

Half a mile? There’s a friggin’ road half a mile away? Why didn’t he point that out on his little Boy Scout map?

Sighing, she dragged herself to her feet and started up the five yards of hillside that looked more like a mountain. When she was close to the top, he extended his hand. She took it and another spark sizzled up her arm, across her shoulder, and zipped south. Good God! He was like a sexual magnetic pole. If she pointed her compass at him, the needle would snap right to S-E-X.

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KNight

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Dancing in the Dark #MFRWHooks

One Woman Only by Dee S. Knight

One Woman Only is a story of second-chance romance and a love that lasted despite a broken heart at the tenderest of age. This is a blog hop. After reading my post, please click the link at the end to see other posts!

Blurb:

As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Excerpt:
“May I have this dance?”

Kelly turned at the sound of Jonah’s voice behind her. Dinner had ended. All three of the boys had given best man speeches and Eve had even given a very creditable matron of honor speech, considering she had only known Marilyn and Caleb a short time. Lots of toasts had been raised and finally the live band had struck up the music. Caleb led his bride onto the floor for a foxtrot—a dance more than half of the guests had no idea how to do, including her.

Facing Jonah she sighed inwardly at how scrumptious he looked. Sure, his face was pretty much displayed on his brothers’ heads, too, but there was something different about Jonah. His nose was just a little crooked from when Bobby Hendricks had broken it in ninth grade and his eyes held an especially bright sparkle in his eyes when he smiled. Maybe… Well, she didn’t know what caused the difference between Jonah and his brothers. Whatever it was, she had never been fooled by the so-called identical nature of the identical triplets. She’d wanted to be his girl since elementary school. Thought she would be in high school. And then forced every last thought of him from her mind from senior year on.

Until now.

“I don’t know how to foxtrot.”

He shrugged. “Who does except those over fifty?” He glanced at his folks, still alone on the dancefloor, although a few couples were wandering out to join them now. “We can pretend.”

She mentally compared standing on the sidelines alone now that Mama Rio left the party, or being held in Jonah’s arms. Smiling, Kelly held out her hands. “Just don’t step on my toes, Jonah Goodman, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Together they walked onto the dancefloor. He took her right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her waist. Fortunately for them, the music changed to a slow tempo. Kelly laid her head on Jonah’s shoulder, and he tugged her closer as they swayed to the music.

“This is nice,” he murmured.

“Yes it is,” she replied. So very nice. He smelled good. Beneath the light citrus fragrance of his aftershave was a slight whiff of pure man with maybe a twinge of motor oil or something so Jonah it brought tears to her eyes.

He rubbed a path up to her shoulder blades and gave a squeeze. “You fit me perfectly, Kelly.”

“I do?”

“You sure do. I think our hearts can feel each other beat.”

Kelly chuckled. “Smooth talker. Face to face like this our hearts are on opposite sides.”

“Hey! I’m trying to be romantic here.”

She sighed. “Keep on. It’s appreciated.”

“You smell…good.”

She felt his smile. Raising her head she gave him a mock glare. “Watch it with those pregnant pauses, buster.”

He used his hand to press her head back to his shoulder. “You do smell good, though. This isn’t the same perfume you wore in high school. That was—”

“Lilac,” they said at the same time. Once more she raised her head to look at him. “How did you remember that?”

“I remember much more than you might think.” He turned her and moved her closer to the door onto the patio. “Each spring when lilacs are in bloom memories come flooding back. Does that surprise you?”

“More like shocks me,” she said, grinning. And then she laid her head on his shoulder once more, finding she liked it more and more there in his arms. She stepped slightly closer and his arm tightened about her.

“Well, after a while I thought lilac seemed too girlish. I like the vintage scents, so in college I wore Wind Song. Then Shalimar was the scent Brad liked me to wear.” She felt Jonah stiffen when she mentioned her ex, and really she didn’t blame him. “But when I grew up enough finally to take charge of my own life, I started wearing Chanel No 5. A complex fragrance for what I hope is a complex woman.”

“It suits you. Complex and beautiful.” He kissed her temple. “Want to step outside for a minute?”

“Sure. It is a little warm in here.”

On the patio, they could hear the sounds of the people from the television networks packing up equipment, chatting and laughing. Stars shone brightly in the clear night sky. Wood smoke from someone’s fireplace wafted through the air and static electricity fairly crackled in the crispness of the autumn air.

“This is my favorite time of year,” Kelly said. “The heat of summer is gone and winter nights curled up with a hot drink and blazing fire are ahead.”

“Not me. I’m a summer boy all the way.”

“A hothead you mean?” she teased.

“Oh, I’m hot all right.” He waggled his brows at her. Kelly laughed.

“I do seem to remember that about you.”

“You used to be pretty hot yourself. Still are.” He leaned in. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Kelly sucked in a breath. She should stop him, she really should.

Buy link: Kindle Unlimited: mybook.to/OneWomanOnly

MFRW Book Hooks

Author bio:

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. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at it. That’s how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she’s lucky that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy, and nights are their secret. For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join Dee on Nomad Authors. Contact Dee at dsknight@deesknight.com.

Author links:

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

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New release! Cherry Pie and Mistletoe: Lisabet Sarai

Cherry Pie and Mistletoe
A mature holiday romance

Cherry Pie and Mistletoe by Lisabet SaraiSome Christmas traditions improve with age!

Blurb:
At ten thirty on a stormy Christmas Eve, I really didn’t expect any business, but the sign for our diner out on the highway reads “open until midnight”, and I’m a woman of my word. Good thing I didn’t close; the half-frozen long haul trucker who wandered in really needed some hot coffee, not to mention a slice of my luscious cherry pie.

Something about the grizzled, bear-like man with the chocolate-brown eyes and ready laugh spun me back to my scandalous, sensual younger days. I hadn’t wanted anyone in years, but I wanted Dave Driver. Was I brave enough to act on my desire? And would he flee, screaming, from the amorous attentions of a white-haired little old lady?

Buy links:
Kinky Literature 
Amazon US 
Amazon UK 
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble 
Kobo 
Add on Goodreads

Excerpt:
Before he could mention it, I refilled his empty mug. What was it about this guy? Ants crawled along my skin. Butterflies danced in my stomach. My nipples felt heavy and hard as polished stones and a hungry void pulsed between my thighs.

Our eyes met. Heat flickered through me. I held my breath.

“You got any cherry pie?” he asked at last. Had he wanted to request something else?

“Um—yes, yes, of course,” I gasped. Disappointment and relief warred inside me. After all, I wasn’t a girl anymore. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. “Best cherry pie in three counties, in fact.”

“And would you happen to have something to do with that, Marnie?”

“I certainly would. It’s my mother’s recipe—by the way, what’s your name?” I winced at my own boldness. “Since you know mine.”

“Dave,” he replied. “Dave Driver.”

I giggled. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. Guess I was fated to be a long-haul trucker.” Sadness tinged his smile. “Anyway, Marnie—how about that pie? It’s great talking to you, but I’ve got to be in Nebraska by Thursday morning.”

“Coming right up.” I cut him a more-than-generous slice and topped it with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. Ruby-red fruit oozed from the flaky crust. Fingers of creamy white dripped over the top and pooled on the plate. I garnished the whole thing with a sprig of fresh mint and presented it to him with a flourish.

“Very Christmas-y,” he said. “Looks delicious, too.”

“It is.” I watched him devour a big, gooey chunk.

“Wow! This is amazing!”

“Thanks.” It felt so good to be the cause of his innocent delight. “Glad you like it.”

“Why don’t you join me? Have a piece of your own?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s bad for my cholesterol.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, and you have to work. You deserve some compensation!” He held out a moist forkful of cherries and cream. “Here, take some of mine, then.”

Giving in to impulse, I leaned over the counter, opened my mouth and let him feed me. Flavors exploded on my tongue: the sweet-tart burst of the fruit, the richness of the ice cream, the buttery lightness of the crust. Dave scrutinized my face as I chewed and swallowed, savoring every moment. I couldn’t stop licking my lips. His eyes followed my every move. A blush climbed into my cheeks, even as I chided myself for being immature and overly sensitive.

“See?” he said gravely. “You should listen to me. Go get yourself some of your incredible cherry pie.”

I didn’t resist any more. I wanted the pie. I wanted him, too. Not much I could do about that second desire, but I could certainly fulfill the first. Hard as it sometimes was to believe, I was sixty four. Did I think I’d live forever?

With my pie and ice cream (a somewhat smaller piece than I’d given him), I perched on a stool inside the serving area. Facing each other across the counter, less than a foot apart, we ate in silence.

I tried without success to concentrate on the exquisite taste of the dessert in front of me, as Dave seemed to be doing. Instead, I was intensely aware of how close he was—and how paradoxically attractive. I watched his sensual mouth opening and closing around forkfuls of pie, the flick of his tongue over his lips as he gathered stray crumbs, the shift in his throat as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

He drained his coffee cup. He’d nearly finished. When he was done, he’d disappear into the winter night. He had a long way to travel before morning. His job probably depended on providing a reliable delivery schedule.

I was just a stop along the way.

About Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Get ’em while they’re hot!! Great reads for 99 cents!

Books on sale for 99 cents

Perilous Love Jan Selbourne (Fabulous love story!)

Adrian Bryce has led something of a playboy lifestyle, playing fast and hard BVS sale: Perilous Love Jan Selbourne  with a beautiful seductress until the British government sends him on a spying assignment. The deadly mission sees Adrian and his family running for their lives through a war-torn Europe. On the perilous road to home, a web of spies and assassins surround them on all sides. As the danger grows, Adrian finds himself more drawn to the lovely Gabrielle. A nightmare of betrayal and brutality follow them as Adrian risks everything to get his family back home.

Final Kill Leslie McKelvey (Wonderful writer!)

BVS sale: Final Kill Leslie McKelvey

CIA linguist and expert sniper, Cat Beckett, saves Lt. Ryan Heller and his ambushed SEAL team in Afghanistan, and realizing someone is passing information to the enemy she suspects her ex-lover, Peter Mitchell. Caught between extremists and Mitchell, can Cat and Ryan’s blossoming relationship survive this challenging and deadly situation?

 

Naval Maneuvers Dee S. Knight

BVS sale: Naval Maneuvers Dee S. KnightMen and women of the armed forces deal experience desire 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.

A professional woman sworn to avoiding all things military finds herself in love with a lieutenant commander in the Navy. Love won’t conquer all if she allows her childhood memories to eclipse future happiness.

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.

When two former lovers find each other after more than a decade, will a long-hidden secret threaten the course of a rekindled romance or be the cause of it?

First Submission Anthology

BVS: First Submission anthology We all remember our firsts in life; first kiss, first love, first sexual experience. Black Velvet Seductions present a collection of eleven short stories, from eleven great writers, on the subject of First Submission within a Domination and submission relationship. The authors are from different backgrounds across the world and have written a broad spectrum of stories on such diverse themes as straight, gay, BDSM, domestic discipline, age play and multiple partners. A red hot read of wide ranging sexy stories to thrill and tantalize! Discover the authors and their stories on the BVS site.

Uniform Desire Anthology

It’s seduction around the concept of uniform–military, nurse, firefighter, BVS sale: Uniform Desire anthologypoliceman and so much more. There’s a little erotic romance for everyone, including ménage, BDSM, spanking, and… Well you’ll have to see for yourself on the BVS page.

Bragging Ain’t Marketing (and vice versa) #MFRWauthor

Well, that tile isn’t exactly right. There is a certain amount of bragging involved in marketing—if you consider talking about your talent and works as bragging. Someone has to do it, right? If you can’t, some credibility is lost. And we can’t always count on others to do the heavy lifting or promoting and supporting our work. So… It’s either share your accomplishments with the world or face the possibility that they won’t be shared at all. The way you share can make all the difference.

Bragging man“I just won a big award!” Said one way, it’s bragging. Said another way, it’s marketing. Here are a few ways marketing and bragging differ.

  • Bragging is all in the words, which serve are the total value. Marketing uses the words with substantiation to add value.
  • Bragging is fodder for the ego. Marketing is for consumers, or those outside yourself.
  • Bragging has no purpose except to make yourself feel better. Marketing serves a purpose with a tangible outcome.
  • Bragging irritates those around you with an “I, I, I” attitude. Marketing educates and entices others to learn more about you.
  • Bragging tends to make others think less of you. Marketing serves to establish your credibility and make others feel good about you.
  • Bragging can make people want to avoid you. Marketing (done right) will make people want to find more about you—and your work.

No one really enjoys being around a braggart, and after a while, their words tend to lose attention and value. Marketing adds value to words with proof. In the case of a book, “I just won a big award!” means more when teamedMarketing isn't all about you with a graphic of the award, review snippets that prove the award was deserved, and a plea to buy the book so that you, too, can enjoy this really great book—great because someone else determined it, not you. Sometimes there is a thin line between bragging and marketing, but other times they miss by a mile.

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

ROMANCE!! Sweet or hotter than a firestorm, check out BVS

I’ve been very fortunate to be associated with wonderful publishers (like Liquid Silver Publishing (my first publisher), Siren-Bookstrand, and now, Black Velvet Seductions (aka BVS)). I think you would enjoy books from any of them, but right now I’d like to tell you more about BVS.

Black Velvet Seductions

Yes, this is a shameless plug, but I wouldn’t talk about BVS here if I didn’t The Brute and Ifeel strongly about the brand. I can vouch for the fact that BVS publishes all kinds of romance, from, well from me to my partner in crime, Jan Selbourne, who writes historical romance. Writers like Alice Renaud, Patricia Elliott, Callie Carmen (just finished Nicolas and you should try it!), K.L. Ramsey, SuzanneA Merman's Choice Smith, and many others whose books I’ve been enjoying in the last year will make your heart happy. BVS searches out some of the best writers and pairs them with some of the finest graphic artists around (Jessica Greeley is especially talented!) for covers. Ric Savage, the man who runs BVS, strives for excellence in every aspect of the publishing process. Honestly, I’ve never worked with a publishing house who does more to help authors present their books to the readers.

So how can you find out about BVS? New books and special deals are showcased in the newsletter. I chatted with Ric Savage who runs BVS and asked what his vision is for the publishing house. He told me, “In the 5 years I have managed BVS, it has been my goal to get the books of our talented authors in the hands of romance readers. We like to get to know our readers and what they think. We are constantly looking to get their views and reactions to the stories. I have always seen that as a two-way street, and I think it only right to offer readers a chance to read our books at favorable prices. We offer new books to preorder at 99 cents. We also offer freebies at times. A way of keeping in touch is through our newsletter. It is very simple to be an Insider, you just sign up to our newsletter, and we will keep you up to date with freebies, deals, and our latest news!”

I hope you do subscribe! It’s an honor to be among some of the best romance writers and to work with BVS. I know you will agree.

Dee

To Save or Not to Save #MFRWauthor

To collect means (according to dictionary.com) to gather a group of similar objects. To hoard means to collect items for future use and keep them carefully guarded. According to these definitions, I am something of a hoarder, although these days, colloquially, hoarding implies a kind of crazy mental attachment to things that can’t be controlled. I do know that I don’t “collect.”

My grandmother used to collect little bird figurines. Almost everywhere you looked in her house there was a bird of some sort staring back at you. My Bird collectionmom used to collect those little Hummel figures—not the real ones. But I was never drawn into that. I’m sentimental…and yet, not. My mother-in-law once convinced me to collect pewter cups. In Virginia, pewter is readily available and some of the fine cups used for display are really beautiful. I collected three and then lost interest. Maybe I don’t have the patience to build an actual collection. However, for hoarding…I find that a little too easy.

For years and years (like for thirty years), hubby and I dragged gifts we got for our wedding around with us whenever we moved. By things I mean beautiful, well-intentioned gifts that we never ever used or displayed. Like a Wedding giftsilver serving tray, silver monogrammed drinking glasses, and silver tipped salt and pepper shakers. Nope, never used them. Kept them in the same boxes we received them. But I kept packing and moving them with us because for some reason I just couldn’t let them go. Crazy? Yeah, I think so a bit. Finally, in a wild downsize, I sent all of that stuff to the Salvation Army but—I won’t lie—it was painful.

Even after the downsize, and here where storage is diminished, I have tubs of stuff I keep looking at and saying, “I might use that (salad spinner, Stored itemsridiculous dust collector I picked up in Chicago, book my mom gave me fifteen years ago, etc.), so I can’t toss it away.” That’s how it goes, folks. One day I will have to say goodbye to all of it, but until then, all of that stuff is in four tubs stacked in my closet. Sigh.

Do you collect or maybe (like me) hoard? Let’s commiserate!

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

A Virgo’s view of giving a little, taking a little #MFRWauthor

I have a big mouth and I’m (sometimes) not afraid to use it. Often to my own detriment. Like when giving advice. Or taking it. I’m a Virgo (as you might have gleaned from the title) and that makes me a bit stubborn when it comes to always knowing what’s best—for myself and others. Thus, I give advice much more easily than I take it. (See second sentence again.)

So, I would like to explain when I know (in my mind and in my heart) when it’s best to give advice: Only when my advice is in the very best interest of the person to whom I’m imparting my wisdom. And only in a very sensitive, insightful way. So… Rules for giving advice:

  • Do not share your opinion even though you’re sure the person will be so grateful once he/she sees the wisdom behind the words.
  • Do not share your opinion even when you see a situation as a teachable moment.
  • Do not share your opinion when sharing will make you feel better and the other person worse.
  • Do not share your opinion when the other person quite obviously is venting and not looking for advice. (I hate it when hubby does this to me but it hasn’t always stopped me from doing the same…)

Now when it comes to receiving advice, there is only one rule: Don’t give it unless I ask for it or am in such a state that you feel you must say something before I jump off the ledge. I’m kinda bad about saying I don’t like your suggestions but very good at ignoring it. This applies to face-to-face interactions and written advice. It applies to my mom, my friends, and my editors (although I usually bow to editors once I get past the markups). Being a Virgo is hell sometimes.

I hope that my feelings about advice don’t make people hate me. But you know, if it does and you have advice about how to fix that, please don’t bother. I’ll love you better for your discretion. 😉

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Amber Daulton’s Lyrical Embrace!

Series: Deerbourne Inn (book 4)
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Release Date: February 11, 2019
ASIN: B07MFF8B8V
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Length: 40k
Heat Rating: 3 Flames

Blurb

Out-of-work violinist Erica Timberly decides enough is enough. She leaves her abusive boyfriend and flees the big city, but then her car breaks down in the middle of the night. Though wary of men, she accepts help from Dylan Haynes, a stranger driving by on the road, and soon recognizes him as the sexy former drummer of her favorite indie rock band. Maybe, just maybe, her run of bad luck is finally turning around.

Music teacher Dylan Haynes knows Erica is in trouble, and her black eye is only the first clue. The stubborn yet vulnerable woman needs a friend, but he’s determined to give her everything she deserves.

Will Erica listen to the music in her heart and trust Dylan, or will her past always threaten her future?

Excerpt

Erica leaned up and combed her fingers through her hair. “I’ve never made love outside before. It’s a surreal experience.”

“We can do it wherever you want. In an elevator, in an alley, in my car. I’m game anywhere and everywhere for as long as you want me.”

“I want you so much it hurts.”

Dylan thumbed her knuckles and hoped she meant that. “I don’t know how you feel about labels, but I haven’t had a girlfriend in years. I’ve just had flings, but I want more than that with you. I want us to be with each other and no one else. I want a relationship with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I feel divided in two. A part of me thinks we’re moving too fast, but another part says to jump in with both feet. I want something real with you too. I don’t want to feel dirty after we fool around. Just make me happy. Will you do that, Dylan?”

Her soft, pain-filled words struck Dylan like a dagger in his gut, and he bit the insides of his cheeks to steady his features.

Her ex-boyfriend had probably called her names and degraded her after they would find release in each other’s body, and the bastard likely never cared if she reached climax at all.

“I understand, Erica. I promise to treat you with nothing but respect, and I will do my very best to make you happy. I swear you will always scream your head off in pleasure every time I touch you. I’m not the sort of man to get my jollies off and leave my girl hanging.”

Her lips twitched up in a grin. “That’s good to hear.”

“So are you my girl?”

“Yeah, I’m your girl.” Erica giggled and tapped her fingers on his chest.

“How could I not be? You make a very compelling argument, but I will have to hold you to it. I’m definitely looking forward to screaming every time you touch me.”

“Let’s rest, and then we’ll play again. The night’s early, and I’ve only just begun.”

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43225610-lyrical-embrace

Buy Links

Amazon – https://amzn.to/2ChIhNT
Barnes and Noble – https://bit.ly/2ChIhgR
iTunes – https://apple.co/2M3T9mW
Kobo – TBA
Google Play – TBA
The Wild Rose Press store – https://bit.ly/2AIkSFk
Books2Read – http://books2read.com/u/m0MYaV

About the Author

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
Amber lives in North Carolina with her husband and four demanding cats. Feel free to visit her at http://www.amberdaultonauthor.blogspot.com.

Social Media Links

Facebook Author Page – www.facebook.com/amber.daulton.author
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberDaulton1
Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/amberdaulton5/
Goodreads – www.goodreads.com/author/show/6624921.Amber_Daulton
Amazon Author Page – http://amzn.to/14JoZff
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/amberdaultonauthor/
Book Bub – https://www.bookbub.com/profile/amber-daulton
Book Gorilla – https://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B00ALQITWY/amber-daulton/kcc
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/amberdaulton
LinkedIn – www.linkedin.com/pub/amber-daulton/87/538/368
Google Plus – https://plus.google.com/u/0/+AmberDaulton
The Wild Rose Press – https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/2362_amber-daulton