Blog Tour – Say My Name by Patricia Logan

International bestselling author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of several #1 bestselling erotic romances in English, Italian, French, and Spanish lives in a small house with a large family. When she’s not writing her next thriller romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up way too soon, and raising kids who make her proud every day. One of her favorite tasks is coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types. Married to a wonderful gentleman for 30 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.

Become a fan of Patricia at http://authorpatricialogan.com/ and receive a free book of your choice. Email her at patricialogan.author@yahoo.com. She loves to hear from readers more than anything and will respond to all emails.

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Dawson Thomas is a rent boy, a young man who goes out hoping to impress a man who’ll pay him to be a submissive for a kinky night together. One night he accompanies a friend to a BDSM club in New York. Raw Hide is a place where men gather to live out their fantasies and Dawson can’t believe his good luck when the owner invites him upstairs to be paid for a night of kink. When others whisper that the man is hideously deformed, calling him “The Monster”, Dawson remembers the cost of his tuition and puts aside his fears, accompanying the bodyguard to the man’s apartment.

Each night, Cole Chambliss paces in his rooms above Raw Hide, watching beautiful submissives give themselves to their Doms, just a few steps down the stairs. Cole longs for days past when he could go out in public… when no one would stare at him in horror. After paying a bitter price when fighting for his country, Cole knows his days of walking among whole men are gone forever… that is until one night he takes a risk that terrifies him. The stunning submissive who’s caught his eye is something extraordinary and Cole decides he must chance everything for one last shot at happiness.

One dark night, one desperate risk, and one horrifying request later, Cole hears the words he’s feared since his return from the war. “Say my name, Sir… please just… say my name…”

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08 Jan – Torie James
08 Jan – Room with Books
08 Jan – Romance Junkies
08 Jan – Night Owl Reviews
09 Jan – Stormy Nights Reviewing & Blogging
09 Jan – Books & More
10 Jan – Shelli Rosewarne
11 Jan – Erzabet’s Enchantments
12 Jan – Romance Reviews Today
12 Jan – Indy Book Fairy
13 Jan – Pamaceeve
14 Jan – Foreplay & Fangs
14 Jan – Books on Fire
20 Jan – Romancing the Book

 

“Good match you made, boss,” he said, walking up to the desk where Cole stood.

Cole sat down heavily, looking up at his huge bodyguard. “I don’t want Zander touching him again and he’s not allowed in the pit,” he hissed. His voice was even more hideous and ragged than usual.

“What? Who? Zander?” Bull asked, perplexed. “You don’t want Zander in the pit again but boss, you said…”

“Dawson, you idiot!” Cole shouted.

“But, Cole, you said you wanted Dawson to play with Zander. I explained to him that you just wanted him to take an interest in the submissive the way you asked me to. I told him you didn’t want to see him hooking up with the wrong Dom and that you wanted to see him be a friend to Dawson.”

Cole nodded, feeling a hard rock in the pit of his stomach. “And, did you tell Zander I’d cover Dawson’s fees?”

“Yeah, boss. Besides, their scene was brilliant. Listen to that applause. You haven’t changed your mind, have you Cole?”

Cole cursed the fact that he hadn’t turned off the speaker as the crowd went crazy for them. He squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head back on the leather headrest on his chair. His brain felt like it would split in two from agony and his stomach was twisting with nausea from just having seen Dawson given pleasure by the other dominant. It was killing him. He opened his eyes and looked miserably over at Bull.

“Just… just tell Zander he’s not to touch the boy again, okay?”

“Sure, boss. Anything you say.” Bull turned to walk away but seemed think better of it as he stopped himself in his tracks and spun back around. “You know, Cole, it wouldn’t be so bad if you told the boy you loved him. I know he’s crazy about you too. You’re just too prideful to see it.”

Fucking bloody friends! Who needs you? “You think I’m proud of these scars? I curse them every day!” He stood so fast, the desk chair spun behind him.

“Oh, I didn’t realize Dawson had seen you,” Bull said. He walked back up to Cole’s desk. “I thought you’d blindfolded him and he’d gotten to know you on the inside.” He pointed at Cole’s chest.

Blog Tour – Angel’s Keeping by Brantwijn Serrah

When she isn’t visiting the worlds of immortals, demons, dragons and goblins, Brantwijn fills her time with artistic endeavors: sketching, painting, customizing My Little Ponies and sewing plushies for friends. She can’t handle coffee unless there’s enough cream and sugar to make it a milkshake, but try and sweeten her tea and she will never forgive you. She moonlights as a futon for four lazy cats, loves tabletop role-play games, and can spend hours watching Futurama, American Horror Story or Buffy the
Vampire Slayer while she writes or draws.

In addition to her novels, Brantwijn has self-published erotic short stories available on Smashwords or Amazon. She’s also had a short story published in the Cleiss Press Big Book of Orgasm and the anthology Coming Together Through The Storm. She hopes to have several more tales to tell as time goes on. She has author pages on GoodReads and Amazon, and loves to see reader comments on her work. Her short stories occasionally pop up on her blog, Foreplay and Fangs.

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Foreplay and Fangs blog: http://brantwijn.blogspot.com/?zx=6ba3380c7201b326

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01 Jan – Torie James
01 Jan – Room with Books
01 Jan – Romance Junkies
01 Jan – Night Owl Reviews
02 Jan – Stormy Nights Reviewing & Blogging
02 Jan – Books & More
03 Jan – Shelli Rosewarne
04 Jan – Erzabet’s Enchantments
05 Jan – Indy Book Fairy
06 Jan – Pamaceeve
07 Jan – Books on Fire

 

 

Even fallen angels can wish for a miracle.

As a succubus, preying on humans is Raschael’s business, and mortal feelings are nothing but a waste of time. So maybe her king meant to punish her when he sent her out to hunt on one of the most holy mortal holidays. Or maybe he just wanted her far, far away, so he could banish Raschael’s one and only friend.

Now Raschael must track down a missing fallen angel, and she doesn’t have a clue where to start. Bigger predators are closing in, and Rasche’s only lead is a Christmas stripper named Noelle.

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The waitress ditched her tray of drinks and took Rasche by the hand, leading her into one of the back rooms. The Christmas theme survived even in the private show quarters, though with a more generous degree of triple-X action. The small space Raschael’s escort chose had been decorated with garlands and wreaths, and a stocking hung by the door, but on top of the holiday trimmings there were also striking boudoir pictures. They all contained the same sweet, golden angel, but in much less “angelic” form.

Raschael spun to address the woman personally. “Who are you?”

By way of answer, the woman nodded her head at the bright red stocking. Noelle, it read in sapphire blue, glittery letters across the trim.

“Noelle?” Rasche asked. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Noelle replied with a brilliant smile. “It really is my God-given name. Honest.”

“Alright, Noelle, then about Kyrie–”

“Oh, now, now.”

Noelle took Rasche’s hand again, stroking her fingers, and led her to the soft red leather seat stationed in the center of the room. She gestured for Raschael to sit and, before Raschael could stop her, climbed expertly up into the succubae’s lap.

“First thing’s first, gorgeous. How about we get a little more…intimate?”

She raised a hand and snapped her fingers. The faded strains of Blink 182 from the main room became inaudible, as Lady Gaga’s “Speechless” flowed into the room’s own speakers. Noelle lowered herself over Raschael’s body, rocking in time with the sultry piano, wrapping arms around the fallen one’s neck.

Forgetting herself for the briefest of moments, Raschael closed her eyes and let the first swell of carnal desire stir to life in her loins and chest. The dancer didn’t stop her when she lifted up her hands and cupped them over warm, soft buttocks.

Noelle smelled of warm vanilla. She had a luscious body, petite with classic curves, Renaissance in a way…but with eyes closed, Raschael’s mind made her Kyriel, little and lithe and naughty. Under her hands, Noelle’s plump hindquarters might have been Kyrie’s slim, boyish ass instead, and the sweet scent of heather rose up with the remembered sounds of Kyrie’s intoxicated desire, from earlier in the evening. Rasche lowered her face to nuzzle against a plentiful swell of tender breasts, and she sighed before she could stop herself, moving her body against the other woman’s with yearning.

“Why don’t you tell me about your friend,” Noelle whispered against her ear, gyrating ever-so-delightfully against Raschael’s body. “Why are you out searching for her on Christmas Eve, hm?”

“She ran away,” Raschael said. Her palms caressed the dancer’s ass greedily. “And I’m responsible for bringing her back before she gets in trouble.”

Noelle tsk’d her. “Now, now, Raschael. You make her out to be some sort of bad puppy.”

The dancer extended a leg and swung herself neatly around, facing away now to grind her pert little rear down on the succubae’s lap instead. Noelle’s hands stole to hers and guided them up to stroke tits through gauzy white fabric. Raschael’s fingertips found stiffened nipples, and she teased them through the thin material.

“Who told you my name?” she asked. “Kyrie?”

“Mm, could be…”

Noelle’s hands closed, warm, over Rasche’s own, as the dancer welcomed her to knead, stroke, and caress. Rasche inclined her head to breathe in deep, relishing the scent of beautiful blonde hair.

“Listen, honey,” she whispered. “I’m sure as hell enjoying this, and if I had the time to spare I’d be all over you in ways you can’t even conceive.”

“Mm-hm,” Noelle replied. Her hips rolled in languid, mesmerizing rhythm, and Rasche let out a little growl as she returned the the motion in kind.

“Oh, sweetness, I’d fuck you until you couldn’t stand,” she said. “But not now. You’re going to tell me if you’ve seen my girl, and where she is, and then we’ll see about making it up to you. Sound good?”