November 20, 2015

Guest Takeover - Heaven's Just a Sin Away by @Robin_Badillo

Welcome, Robin Badillo, the latest participant in my Mega Guest Takeover here to promote...

Thank you so much for inviting me to participate.


Having just lost his mother to cancer, eighteen year old, Blueford “Blue” Mason returned to their hometown of Danville, Texas to live with his reticent grandmother, Alma. The two struggle to bond while Blue undergoes a metamorphosis into manhood, discovering new things about himself, his sexuality, life, love and even heartbreak.
After leaving his former fire department due to intolerance of his sexuality, twenty-three year old, Jack West moved to Danville to work as an EMT for his uncle’s small fire department. He’d resigned himself to living a quiet life alone until Blue came along and turned his world upside-down.
Will the young lovers find acceptance in Danville or will shameful secrets from the distant past set this town ablaze when the people around them are forced to face their own shortcomings?
Heaven’s just a sin away for everyone, especially when every sin is created equally.


Blue drew in a deep breath and gripped the strong hand holding his. He peered into Jack’s dark brown eyes as they darted back and forth.
“Fuck.” Jack stepped back and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“Don’t know what?” Blue had to know. He had to hear the rest of the sentence. If he didn’t, he was certain he would explode.
“I don’t know what I was thinking just then.” Jack gestured to the space between them now. “I didn’t mean to cross any lines, man.”
Blue shook his head. “You didn’t.” He really hadn’t. In fact, Jack hadn’t even come close to crossing lines. Not like Blue wanted him to, anyway.
“Oh, shit!” Jack charged past Blue and reached for the now crackling frying pan with the steaks. Smoke and steam billowed from the top. “Damn. I think I burned them.” He set the pan aside and examined the steaks by lifting the edge of one with a fork. “Crap. There went dinner.”
Blue laughed. “You can save babies from burning cars, but you can’t cook up a couple of steaks?”
“Hey, I was dealing with an emergency. You nearly cut your finger off.”
They both laughed as Blue glanced down at his finger. “It’s not even bleeding anymore.” As their laughter quieted, Blue couldn’t help himself. He had to say something. “You’re not, you know.”
Jack’s brows pinched with apparent confusion. “Not what?”
Blue swallowed hard, his knees trembling so badly he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to remain standing. “You’re not crossing lines.”
Jack ran a shaky hand through his thick, dark locks. “Blue.”
“I’m an adult.”
“I know.” His Adam’s apple worked up and down as his gaze dropped from Blue’s eyes to his mouth.
“Just because I’m younger than you, doesn’t mean I’m too young.” It wasn’t everything he’d wanted to say, but it was good start.
Jack’s gaze felt heavier somehow, like the thoughts behind his gorgeous eyes were at odds. “I don’t know if...”
A million words could have ended the sentence, but nothing Jack said would have changed the way Blue felt. Right now, he only wanted to feel Jack’s lips. Taste him. Touch him. The way he’d done in every dream he’d had since he first met him.
“Nothing you say can change this.”
“Look, Blue.” Jack stepped closer. “I’ve had a rough year, and I don’t want my baggage to spill onto you.”
Blue scoffed, trying to thwart the ball of air stuck in the back of his throat threatening to strangle him. “You’ve had a rough year?”
Was it petty to compare? He instantly regretted the snide, selfish comment.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Shit, Blue. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Nah, man. It’s okay.”
“No.” Jack placed his hand on Blue’s shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. “It’s not.”
The second Jack looked him in the eye, Blue knew. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he didn’t make a move, he might never have the courage again.
Blue rushed toward him and instantly captured Jack’s bottom lip between his own lips and teeth.
Much to Blue’s relief, Jack didn’t pull away. Instead, he pinned Blue against the counter, huffing hot breaths as he pried Blue’s lips apart and slipped his tongue inside.
Blue sucked him in deeper, swirling his tongue around Jack’s. His body trembled, and Jack hugged him close, their mouths still fused together, kissing, suckling, tasting.
Their teeth clanked between kisses, and a wave of energy Blue only experienced when he jerked off, surged through him. Holy fuck! Had he busted a nut already? He pushed the mortifying thought out of his head and eagerly followed as Jack guided them toward the sofa.
Jack laid Blue back onto the cushions and gazed down at him with a hungry look in his eyes. Between laboring breaths, Jack whispered, “Jesus, Blue. What the hell have you done?”

Buy Links:




Book Strand:

Author Links:


Evernight Author Page:

Amazon Author Page:

Author Bio:

Tyler Robbins, a.k.a. Robin Badillo, is a down to earth mother of four, born and raised in a small Texas town where she still resides with her nearly grown kids and a pack of spoiled dogs.
After years of being a wife and mom, complete with company picnics and fundraisers for the P.T.A., Robin found herself starting over when her husband of fifteen years suddenly passed away in 2006. With no particular skills to speak of, Robin took the advice of friends and family, and followed her heart and passion for writing into the publishing world.
A fan of paranormal and southern romance novels, Robin does her best to offer up a plethora of tasty morsels to satisfy her reader’s appetite. Whether mainstream and/or paranormal erotic romance or Tyler’s LGBT romance line, Robin strives to create characters who are endearing and relatable.
Adversity is Robin’s motivation, which explains why she’s a true believer that grey hair is simply God’s graffiti.

November 13, 2015

Guest Takeover - @Author_Devika

The mega Guest Takeover series continues... Welcome, Devika Fernando, here to promote her book Saved in Sri Lanka...


She bit her lip, afraid she was talking too much, but he was hanging on her every word.
“What an unusual choice.”
Was that admiration in his cultured voice?
Before she had the chance to respond, maybe shoot another question at him, a sudden gust of wind stirred up the landscape. The surprisingly strong breeze whipped her hat from her head. It sailed away for several feet before plopping to the ground unceremoniously when the wind settled as fast as it had risen.
“C’mere, let me get that for you.”
With that, Daniel stalked off on his long legs while she stared at him in surprise. Within seconds, he picked up the hat, shook some non-existent dust off, and returned. She half reached out for the hat, but her arm dropped to her side lifelessly when the power of his gaze hit her.
He was drinking in her face, free of its shading hat. God, was he really scanning every single detail, the way a man would hungrily let his gaze wander over the face of a woman he found attractive? When was the last time somebody had reacted to her like that?
Her throat went dry, and Sepalika was frozen into place. Daniel prowled closer, until he wasn’t standing more than a foot or two away, and she had to tilt up her head to look into his eyes, wanting to drown in their greenish-grey depths.
They stared at each other, and she wondered why a small frown was forming a vertical line between his eyebrows. In slow motion, he lifted his arms and gently placed the hat on her hair, pushing it down until her eyes were in the shade again. His hands never touched her, but the deliberate slowness and strange intimacy of the gesture had her pulse fluttering in her throat. His gaze strayed to its frantic movement beneath her caramel-colored skin.
“There you go now,” he said softly.
The air between them was charged. She expected him to touch her any moment. She wanted him to do so.
“Tell me your name again.”
His voice was husky and barely more than a whisper.
Where was her voice? Swallowing and resisting the urge to wet her lips with her tongue, she said, “Sepalika.”
His gaze traveled to her mouth and back up to her eyes.
“Right. Sepalika.”

About Devika

Almost as soon as Devika Fernando could write, she imagined stories and poems. After finishing her education in Germany and returning to her roots in Sri Lanka, she got a chance to turn her passion into her profession. Having lived in Germany and in Sri Lanka with her husband has made her experience the best (and the worst) of two totally different worlds – something that influences her writing. Her trademark are sweet, yet deeply emotional romance stories where the characters actually fall in love instead of merely falling in lust. She draws inspiration from everyone and everything in life.

Besides being a romance novel author, she works as a self-employed German web content writer, as a translator, and as a faithful servant to all the cats, dogs, fish and birds in her home. What she loves most about being an author is the chance to create new worlds and send her protagonists on a journey full of ups and downs that will leave them changed. When she’s not writing, she’s reading or thinking about writing.

November 11, 2015

Guest Takeover - @RavenMcAllan

Welcome, Raven McAllan, my third guest in the Guest Takeover series! Here's Raven!

If you’d have told me a few years ago I’d be writing a blog post about writing, I’d have laughed and asked what you were on.
I’ve always enjoyed making up stories, first for myself (and my toys) and then for my children, but I never thought I’d get the chance to make them up for other people to read.
When I found out I could, and it was going to happen it was a scary thought.
Very scary.
After all it’s one thing pootling (I love that word) around and creating a world, or people to manipulate at your will, another to let anybody else who fancies it into that world and like to dislike it.
Of course it’s the dislike bit that is worrying.
Because when you open yourself up, and let other people in, you are saying, to them, ‘what do you think?’
You want an honest answer, otherwise why ask?
Well I guess unless you want people fawning over you, saying how brilliant you are, and well… nice but not possible. Whoever you are, not everyone likes what you do. Which actually is a good thing isn’t it?
If we all liked the same things the world would be a very boring place.
Therefore, logically you know not everyone is going to think as you do, and not everyone will enjoy what you have created.
And like rear ends, everyone has an opinion.
Some good, some bad, some constructive, some snarky.
And some downright unpleasant.
And that’s when it can hit you hard.
Not everyone holds the same view as you do.
But, here’s where the ‘wait a minute, take a step back, and think for a while’ scenario comes in.
That’s one person’s opinion.
They’re entitled not to like your fourteen legged, cookie eating, green skinned, werewolf if they don’t want to. Just like the next person is allowed to drool all over him and say he/she/it is perfect and they want more.
Or as I said to myself the first time I got a very straightforward ‘I didn’t like this’, okay…
He/she didn’t. Someone else did.
But, and here’s the rub. If everybody liked the same thing, that thing might not be what I write.
I could end up where my stories were a no-no.
Because everyone liked the same thing, and they weren’t it.
I’ll stick with the you can’t please all of the people all of the time, and do my best to please as many as I can, as often as I can.
And hopefully as time goes on, I’ll be able to welcome more people to my world.
(No fourteen legged, cookie eating, green skinned, werewolves in sight.)

The plug (Of course there’s one…well two actually)
The first one happened very recently, and I do think it was worth waiting for.
Carina Uk have just unveiled the cover of The Rake’s Unveiling of Lady Belle (two unveilings eh?)
It’s available on Amazon to pre-order now, and it’s due for publication on January 5th.  

and in the UK of course.
I’m really excited about this as it’s my second book with Carina, and Lady Belle is briefly seen in the first book, The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett. Here’s the blurb…

~The exquisite designs of mysterious dressmaker Madame Belle are the most sought after in the ton, yet only a few are trusted with Belle’s deepest secret – her name.

Lady Belinda Howells has gone to great lengths to disguise her identity, it’s the only way to protect herself from the ruthless demands of her scoundrel father…and to protect her heart.

Until Lord Philip Macpherson walks into her salon and his scorching kiss burns a memory onto her lips that she’ll never be able to forget!

Now it’s only a matter of time before the notorious rake unveils the truth, and when he does, Belle knows that she won’t be able to resist… ~

I hope you won’t be able to resist either…

Plus, my latest book from Evernight Publishing is out today.
The Dom with the Dark Eyes, is out on 11th from Evernight Publishing…

I’m so in love with both of these covers. Very different, but perfect… (well I think so but I am biased)
Here’s the blurb...

~ It was supposed to be one night of fun…
Masked balls are not Linsey’s thing, but needs must. She’ll stay for a little while and then leave. However, when she meet the Dom with the dark eyes, all thoughts of leaving flee, as the switch in her wants to sink to her knees and submit.
No something that happens a lot to this Mistress.
Rad feels an instant connection to the sexy lady he calls his sweet Cherry. She appeals to this Dom like no other sub ever has, and the fact that she seems to be a switch like him just makes their play that much more interesting.
One night was all it was supposed to be, but when that night turns out to have lasting consequences, maybe it was more than just fun. Love has a way of sneaking up on you.~

And a wee tease…
~ “Take off that cloak, Cherry and let me see you.” It was his Dom’s attitude. He saw the moment it registered and she slipped into her subbie mind set.
It was so bloody satisfying to watch her dip her head, untie the ribbons at her throat and let the cloak fall, to pool in a shimmering silk pile at her feet.
“Look at me, sweet Cherry.”
She lifted her head and looked at him from behind her mask. Rad understood that was the one thing she’d keep on. Fair enough, so would he. This was a single night of hot as hell madness. As his dad would have said, no names, no pack drill.
“Do we play first and fuck later or the other way round?”
Linsey bit her lip, and Sir with the dark eyes frowned.
“What did I say about marks?”
 Oh lord she’d forgotten that, which was surprising as it was something in her Domme persona she insisted on.
“Sorry, Sir. And Sir, it’s up to you, which we do first.”
 He nodded. “How are your feet?”
“Eh? Oh, fine without shoes. I tend to go barefoot most of the time.”
Sir grinned. “Oh good. Then I suggest you remove your stockings, and teddy give them to me, and then open the door to the balcony.”
He leaned on the wall and obviously waited to see what she’d do.
Later he thought she might wonder how he got her into her sub mindset so easily. But for now she seemed to accept it without second thoughts. Very slowly she unrolled her stockings and passed them to Sir. Then she slid the shoulder straps lower, let them and her teddy slip down her body, to join the cloak on the floor.
Her smile was one of a houri as she picked the teddy up and handed it to him.
“Thank you, Cherry.”

Happy reading,
Love R x

November 6, 2015

Guest Takeover - Earth Born by @CherieNicholls

Thank you for having me!

Demi isn’t a big talker, so having her tell me their tale was hard work. Well she’s not much of a talker unless you’re a tree. But then we all know that trees are terrible gossips!

I hope you enjoy Earth Born, and the tale of these two crazy people….shifters,…witches…ah man you know what I mean!

Nate Barend’s past has left deep scars. Growing up in foster homes, he never dreamed of his family coming to find him. Why would he, when he remembered so clearly the day they’d thrown him out with the trash.

As an earth elemental, Demi Hills has an affinity with nature—well, most nature anyway. But when her relationship with Nate goes from “friends with benefits” to “it’s complicated,” she can’t seem to shake him. The damn coyote/wolf is like a dog with a bone—or should that be a shifter with a bone?

Stupid mutt.

With a cautious look around the room, Nate lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed at it. Because if he was sitting here, right now, with these people, someone had to have drugged him.
“I understand we’re probably the last people on earth you’d expect to see.”
That was an understatement of magnificent proportions.
“But once we realized that Alpha Dawson was trying to contact one Nathanial Dawson, we couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
Trying to contact him? That was a joke. The old Alpha had written, emailed, and even telegrammed. How the hell he had even found a telegram machine and someone to actually deliver it was still a mystery. More importantly why couldn’t these people stand by? It wasn’t like they’d ever bothered before.
“We realize that the normal process would have been to petition the local Shifter Council, but we are racing against time. If we didn’t get to you first to warn you, well things might be very different right now.”
Warn him? That had probably been the third most interesting and shocking thing that had happened to him today.
Not only had he watched a pack of coyote shifters—or at least part of one—ride into town on motorbikes, but when they’d said they’d been looking for him, he started to look for hidden cameras.
But the one thing that amazed him the most, the one that made him question if he’d been drugged, had been when they announced they were family. Actual blood relations of his.
For an orphan and a child of the care system, it was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear.
Some kids in the homes he’d grown up in had dreamed of days like this.
But not him. Never him.
He knew his family, knew exactly where they were. He remembered them all very clearly. Especially the moment his grandfather had taken a scared little six-year-old boy, who’d just lost his parents in a car crash, had barely survived it himself, and handed him over to child services because he didn’t want him.
If he had been born a full wolf shifter, like his father and grandfather, he had no doubt his family would have kept him. But his father had made the mistake of falling in love and mating with a coyote shifter.
The ‘weakness’ of his mixed blood had been too much for the old man to handle.
Now here he was, sitting across the table from his mother’s family, almost thirty years later.
Too late.
He placed the cup down on the table and looked across at the man opposite him.
Apparently they were cousins, but he didn’t remember them, and he definitely didn’t see the family resemblance. They were pure coyotes, with reddish brown hair and cold eyes. Nate’s own leaned more toward natural gray, showing his gray wolf heritage.
The Alpha had introduced himself as Carlos and told him they were cousins. Apparently Nate’s mother and Carlos’ father were siblings. Nate couldn’t remember him, not that he tried very hard. He’d spent a lifetime forgetting about that family who’d clearly forgotten about him.
The second man was Franko, the beta and clearly the less chatty of the two. The man’s gaze made Nate want to reach across the table and punch him in the face, just for the sake of it.
He looked them both over. It was time to remind them this wasn’t their home.
“A few things spring to mind.” He leaned back in the chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “One, my name is Barend. Nate Barend. Nathanial Dawson died the day Alpha Dawson threw me out with the trash.”
He raised two fingers, counting off his points.
“Two, I ignored every communication I’ve had from Alpha Dawson. Since the man I called grandfather is dead to me. And three, and this is the most important one.” He leaned forward to emphasize his point. “I really don’t think my family likes having you in their home.”
Low growls, from different species, could be heard.
Carlos, who’d been looking far too self-assured for Nate’s liking, started to look around nervously.
“Little brother, everything okay?” Damian walked into the room from the back garden.
He didn’t need to look to know that Jake was at the other door; and out of sight, but not too far away, would be the foster children of this home, watching and waiting.
“Everything is just perfect.”
“Little brother? You let a cat call you brother?”
The look of disgust on Franko’s face was entertaining, another reason not to have these bigoted coyotes around longer than needed.
“No, of course I don’t allow a cat to call me brother. I allow three cats to call me brother. It’s a shame you won’t get to meet my alpha. I’m sure he’ll be disheartened.”
“Your alpha is your adopted brother?” Carlos asked.
“Yep, and a lion. But hey, we don’t judge here.”
“I’m sure, if I speak to his beta, we can make arrangements to stay.”
“You are.” That shocked him. “But why stay? I have no interest in Alpha Dawson, or you.”
“Alpha Dawson went to great lengths to keep you away from your rightful family. He told us you were dead. Don’t you care why he’s trying to get back in touch now?”
“Nope.” He really didn’t. Perhaps he might’ve once. But not anymore.
“But your life is in danger. Doesn’t that worry you?”
Nate laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Boys, you really have no idea where you’ve come to, do you? My life’s been in danger since the second I left my father’s pack. If you think for a second an old alpha and some long lost cousins are going to worry me, well, it just goes to show how much you really don’t know about me.”
He stood, the chair scraping on the floor as he did. When he was at his full height he looked down at the first blood relations he’d seen in years.
“You know what, there’s a bed and breakfast in town. If you feel you want to stay for a day or two, I won’t stand in your way. But this—” he waved a hand between himself and them, “—isn’t going to happen. I have no interest in you, or Dawson. As long as you remember that, you’re welcome to stay.”
Without a backward glance he headed out of the kitchen and the house and down the back steps. Damian caught up with him as he reached the ground.
“Your grandfather’s been in touch? Why didn’t you tell us?”
He’d thought about it, but what was he going to say? His grandfather, alpha and the man who’d abandoned him, was contacting him? Several of the letters had started off nice enough, but the ones of late had started to sound more like orders.
They’d all grown up as children of the state. He didn’t doubt that his brothers would love to hear from their own blood family. It would’ve been wrong of him to rub it in their faces. Besides, the letters had brought back memories he’d rather have left buried.
The nightmares had come back after the first letter. Dreams that put him back in that car, trapped in the wreck, screaming for his parents, crying for them to save him. But both were already dead.
In his mind’s eye he could still see the blood dripping down his father’s face, past lifeless eyes.
He’d tried to forget, had buried it deep. Until those letters.
So when he said he had no interest in any part of his family, he wasn’t joking.
“I need a drink.” He headed off to town, with the only family he cared about right by his side.

© Cherie Nicholls 2015

Author Info:
Cherie Nicholls is an author of Paranormal Romance. By day she is an IT Manager and by night she whips up worlds where alpha men find their mates and people are always more than human.
Cherie was born and lives in London, UK, and is a daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, aunt-in-law, great-aunt, and godmother in an ever-growing family. She has a passion for shifter stories, most any sport and thimbles…don’t ask.

Find Me Links:

November 4, 2015

Guest Takeover - @Nblackthorne

I am pleased and excited to introduce my first guest in my month long guest takeover series. Welcome to Maya's Musings, Natasha Blackthorne! Without further ado, here's Natasha!

Hello Everyone,

Thank you very much Maya for spotlighting my book today.

For those who don't know me, I am Natasha Blackthorne and I write emotionally tense, erotic Historical Romance where broken characters find love & trust. My stories are set in Britain and America, focusing mainly on the Georgian and Regency eras. My plots center on the internal conflicts of the main characters and their intimate journey as they learn to open their hearts to love.

My heroines are not perfect ladies. They are wildflowers and wallflowers who enjoy flirting with the forbidden. Whether they are bold or shy, my heroines' strong desires and deep emotions drive the plot and drive their heroes to the point of no return.

Please be aware: My works contain frequent and graphic erotic content and frank, period appropriate sexual language and slang. They are for adults 18 and over only.

To learn more about my books, check out my Amazon Author page and if you like what you see, please consider following me:

Feel free to Friend me on Facebook or to subscribe to my public feed:

Or you can join my private reader's group:

I also have an Author Fan Page:

If you wish to be notified of my new releases only please follow this blog:

I also have a promotions blog, please follow this one for lots of blog hops and giveaways:

✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆ The Wild, Wicked and Wanton Series Bundle✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆

I’d like to share a little bit about one of my erotic historical romances, Grey’s Lady, Wild, Wicked and Wanton Series, Book One ~ This is a novella that is included in the WILD, WICKED & WANTON series bundle. This bundle is currently available for Pre-Order at a limited time price of .99.

"He can see everything he is feeling in her eyes...a very emotional read that really had an edge." ~ Night Owl Reviews

"The emotional battle between Grey and Beth and within Grey himself was wonderful to read." ~ Dark Haven Maven Reviews

5 Stars: "Natasha Blackthorne's Grey's Lady really delivers, almost from the first page...And the sex...well...steamy...can't wait to read the next book in this new series." ~ A Chick Who Reads

Beth McConnell has a secret. Sometimes, in the afternoons, she escapes the drudgery of her family's shop and seduces wealthy gentlemen. One encounter is all Beth allows. She must leave them burning. When she boldly seduces Grey Sexton, a powerful shipping magnate, Beth finds his ice-over-fire combination of ironclad self-control and sensual indulgence too tempting to resist. Surely, one or two more clandestine trysts wouldn't hurt?

But Grey Sexton demands more. His possessive determination to own her, body and soul, threatens to expose her erotic life. To give into his demands means losing her good name and her place in her brother's home...everything she holds dear. She must turn away, for she knows that a poor girl with no family connections cannot afford to trust her heart to a gentleman.

 "The emotional battle between Grey and Beth and within Grey himself was wonderful to read." ~ Dark Haven Maven Reviews

Erotic Romance, Regency Historical set in the USA, For Adults 18+ Only.

<3 <3 <3 To read a steamy excerpt from GREY’S LADY <3 <3 <3, please visit my blog post. For Adults 18+ Only:

Limited time: Pre-order sale 99 Cents at Amazon, plus two giveaways

Erotic Romance set in Regency Era America with heroines that are Wild, Wicked & Wanton.

Will be available to read for free through Kindle Unlimited upon its release Oct. 16, 2015.

•.¸✿¸.• •. Wild, Wicked and Wanton Series Bundle by Natasha Blackthorne

Kindle US:

Kindle UK:

Kindle: CA:

✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆ The Regency Risks Series Bundle ✯ ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉☆

I'd like to share an excerpt from my erotic historical romance novel, A MEASURED RISK (Regency Risks 1) ~ This full-length novel is included in the REGENCY RISKS SERIES bundle that is now available for Pre-Order for a limited time, special price of .99.

To Preorder Now For .99 Kindle US:
Kindle UK:
Kindle CA:

He is her most dangerous temptation and now he is demanding her submission. Dare she take the risk?
 Book one in the Regency Risks Series
Emotionally scarred in the horrific accident that took her husband's life, Lady Cranfield is imprisoned by her lingering terror of horses and carriages. She longed to be closer to the fascinating Earl of Ruel. She sensed intuitively that he could teach her how to overcome the terrors that held her in bondage.
And now she's willing to risk almost anything-her reputation, even her virtue-to find out. But what he proposes startles her.
When the shy, studious and socially awkward young widow approached him, Ruel instantly sensed she would be the sweetest, most submissive experience of a lifetime-if only he can gain her total and complete trust. He makes her a non-negotiable offer. His help in return for her submission and obedience.
But Lady Cranfield grew up neglected by her ducal parents, raised by servants and then later ignored by her handsome, charming husband. She's learnt to protect her heart at all costs and she trusts no one but herself.
How can the jaded Earl of Ruel break through her self-protective defences and show her how to love when he has spent his lifetime avoiding that tender trap?

Erotica Romance ~ Light BDSM Elements ~ Rubenesque / BBW ~ Regency Historical ~ Character Driven Story ~ Drama ~ Shy Heroine ~ Novel Length 86,000 Words
Excerpt from A Measured Risk, Regency Risks Book One
©Copyright Natasha Blackthorne 2012, 2013
 She backed all the way into the bookcase.

“Why did you run away?” His deep voice settled in her belly, rich and warm, like crème brûlée on a cold winter’s night.

“Because I wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound sophisticated and seductive, but her voice choked off on the last word.

Ruel placed his hand on the shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door.

His tall, solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something masculine and undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched his hard mouth.

He appeared different. Softer. More approachable.

At the change, her insides seemed to flip over.

“Well, sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He touched one of her fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction with endless talk of hunting and fencing.”

As he slowly wrapped the curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery sparks tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered. By some instinct she hadn’t even known she possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for his assessment.

His eyes shone so vividly blue against his bronzed face that they resembled cornflowers. She swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This more personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his usually fierce exterior.

Well, no matter. There was nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as need be to get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet secure life in Ireland and thrust into Society at age sixteen, she’d spent her time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She was an expert at emotional evasion.

It should be easy to regain her control.

But now, as rays of the late-afternoon sun played over his pale hair, turning it the colour of winter wheat, all her carefully rehearsed words flew from her mind.

Say something—anything—else he will think you’re a bird-wit.

An intimate smile, one that invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.

“In a situation like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s perfectly normal for a lady to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice, barely audible above the piano and boisterous singing from down the corridor, accentuated their isolation. His gaze became so piercing that she had to lower her eyes.

He brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “She will invariably ask herself if he will try to kiss her.”

She jerked her eyes back to his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—not yet, surely…

Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step back, but found her arse flush against the bookshelf.

He leaned closer; so close that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And just in case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most assuredly yes.”

She should demand that he put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She really should. But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her that his breath blew on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be kissing him.

Kissing him.

Dear God. Her breaths began to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with a suppressed moan.

His eyes burnt as brightly as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her, if he dared… Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could express itself no other way.

Excitement rushed through her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.

But no, he wouldn’t. Not yet.

 He kept leaning closer. He didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all the harder upon her.

 Her heart pounding, unable to move away, she braced herself for his assault.

 His lips brushed hers, barely. A gossamer caress.

 He lifted his head.

 It was done.


And it hadn’t even begun.

 He held her chin, appearing so cool, so unaffected. His kiss had seemed to sear her.

An urge to put her fingers to her lips arose in her. She resisted it, for it would give away too much of how she was affected.

Never show your feelings.

He traced his thumb along her lower lip, slowly, deliberately, as he studied her with eyes that now glittered with something powerful and predatory. Heat pooled in her belly..

 She went weak all over, as if she’d lain in a sunny window seat for too long. Her knees almost buckled. She forced them to lock. To be strong.

 It should not have affected her so profoundly. It had been just a peck—not a true kiss at all. William had poured out all of his skill upon her and hadn’t garnered even a tenth of the reaction in her that this man’s peck had.

 Ruel traced her jaw line with his fingertips. Unthinkingly, she leaned in to his touch.

“Of course, once he has kissed her, then it’s his turn to wonder…” His voice sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. “How will she respond? Will she withdraw, or can he ignite some hidden fire?”

She sensed that he was toying with her. She didn’t understand flirtation—why had she imagined she could carry off this ruse? Was he making advances in order to have a laugh with Francesca and her simpering friends later? Hurt blossomed in her chest. She resented him for that. She ought to feel indignant, superior, uncaring—anything but hurt.

“Please don’t make sport of me.”

She cringed. Was that quavering, pleading voice really hers?

An infinitesimal pause. “Now, why on earth would I do such a thing?” His voice was as smooth as velvet.

“To please your vanity,” she replied, trying to regain her wits.

“Here.” He placed her hand to his chest. The contours of his muscles were hard, powerfully developed. Even more so than she’d expected. His body heat radiated through the satin and, beneath her hand, his heart’s beat was rapid and strong.

“Is that vanity?” He put a finger under her chin, giving her no choice but to face him.

“Is it?” He gentled his grip.

 The warmth in his voice settled over her like luscious hot chocolate. Melting her insides to quivering burgoo, rendering her speechless, unable to move.

“My dear, lovely Lady Cranfield, I am going kiss you again.”

* * *