Thursday, April 17, 2014

BEYOND ADDICTION by Desiree Holt is a story you will say is Beyond Fabulous!

The answer to 50 Shades of Grey?
BEYOND ADDICTION by my buddy Desiree Holt.
THIS IS THE REAL story you yearned for and missed in 50 Shades of...whatever.
Sequel to Dangerous Addiction, from Something Wicked This Way Comes, Volume 1
   When Fallon Crowe discovered her submissive side, she indulged it fully, reveling in her erotic nature—until she stepped into the brutally possessive world of Brian Willoughby. More than a year after she was literally dragged away from his abusive clutches,    Fallon is finally building a new life with Cord Jamieson, a Dom who reminds her that punishment can be loving, pain an aphrodisiac.
   But when Fallon unexpectedly runs into Brian, he reawakens an addiction that never quite died. Now she’s torn between the caring relationship she’s established with Cord, and Brian’s darkly mesmerizing lifestyle that goes beyond safe, sane and consensual.
   The choice is Fallon’s—the wrong one might destroy her completely.

Inside Scoop: This story features an abusive scene from a power-hungry man who’s perverted the lifestyle for his own sick pleasure. It may be too intense for some readers.
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Addiction-Desiree-Holt-ebook/dp/B00JEBZ6TG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1397237675&sr=1-1&keywords=Beyond+Addiction+desiree+holt

Your nibble:
Copyright 2014, Desiree Holt
  Cord hung his Stetson on a peg in the back hall and toed off his boots. They were covered in mud and various other substances and badly needed cleaning, but at the moment he was just too tired. He and the hands had spent most of the day riding fence line and making sure every pasture was secure before his new shipment of cattle arrived. They’d been a steal at an auction and he couldn’t resist. The bank had extended a substantial line of credit and that was the perfect reason to tap into it.
  Everything was coming together much better than he could have hoped. The herd was finally at the size it needed to be and in the spring there would be new calves. The pastures of coastal hay were in good shape. And the work on the event center was nearly finished. Next week, he’d work with the hands who’d be leading trail rides and giving lessons and offering other guest activities, and oversee the finishing touches to the stables.
  AT least he could relax where the party was concerned. Fallon was working her magic with an ease that he admired. He smiled as he thought about how much pleasure she brought to all areas of his life. After the party, after the post-event details were seen to, he planned to take her away for a long weekend where he could tie her to the bed and pleasure both of them in as many ways as he could dream up.
Just the thought of that was enough to make his cock harden and strain against the fly of his jeans.
  In the bedroom, he stripped off his clothes and dumped them in the hamper, then stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was so aroused he was almost tempted to take himself in hand and smooth out the edge while the hot water poured over him. Then he thought about Fallon, who was due home very soon, and decided he had much better ways to satisfy his lust.
  He was just wrapping the bath towel around his hips when he heard her moving around in the bedroom. He opened the bathroom door, smiling—until he took a good look at her and his body tensed. Nearly all the color was gone from her face, her soft-pink lipstick seeming like a slash of vivid red in comparison. Her movements as she undressed were jerky, not smooth, as usual. Her body language was that of someone who had been through an emotional wringer.
  What worried him most was the lack of eye contact. That was so out of character, at least for the woman he was used to.
  “Fallon?” He moved closer. “Did something happen today? Your lunch with Claie? Something happen with the errands?”
  She just shook her head and continued removing her clothing like a robot.
  What the fuck?
  And then out of nowhere, it hit him.
  She’d seen him.
  The bastard who’d fucked up her life. Fucked up her. Had she run into him or had she deliberately sought him out? Shit, he didn’t know how he’d handle it if it was the latter. It took all his willpower not to smash his fist against the wall.
  Pulling himself together, he used his best Dom voice. “Fallon. Look at me. Now!” he snapped when she continued to look down at her feet.
  She lifted her face to his, her expression a mixture of regret and disgust, but didn’t meet his gaze.
  “You saw him today, right? That asshole you refuse to talk about?”
  She nodded.
  “Was it deliberate? Did you call him?” He was barely holding his temper in check. “Answer me, girl.”
  “No, Sir.” She still hadn’t looked at him. From the moment he spoke she’d been in full submissive mode, only her attitude was more one of defeat than supplication.

  What the fuck happened out there today? She was doing so well? We were doing so well.

Who is Desiree Holt?
Known the world over as The Oldest Living Erotica Author, Desiree Holt has gathered experiences in everything from newspaper work to running her own music and promotions agency. She is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of the Holt Medallion, multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award and is published by five different houses. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village VoiceThe Daily Beast, USA Today and numerous other national publications.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Sexy Suitors from Space? Got 'em from Paisley Brown! Out now!

Sexy Suitors from Space by Paisley Brown (ISBN: 978-0-9919320-6-1)

A vacation to the far North...

Heather is gifted a week away at a resort in the Arctic Circle by her grandmother, a chance to finally move on after finding her fiancé in bed with another woman.

With two Nordic hunks to keep her company...

The two sexy studs make is easy to get over her failed relationship. That is, until they tell her their secret.

Are the two men really extraterrestrials or just a fantasy created by her lonely soul?

Caution: Includes alien probing, anal sex, and a hot MFM ménage.
Available From:
Amazon US / UK / Canada / Australia
Adult Excerpt:
My breath caught as he moved over me, pinning me to the bed. “You sure don’t make this easy.”

“And neither do you. Just take me already.” How much easier could I get?

“Fuck.” He flopped onto his side and yanked me against him, my back to his chest, his cock resting between the cheeks of my ass. After lifting my leg and settling it over his, he drew a finger along my pussy. “This is all I can give you right now.”

I’d take whatever he was willing to give, hoping his limits changed the longer we spent in bed.

Alek rubbed along my opening and circled my clit. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I gripped the sheets. One way or the other, I planned to have his dick buried deep inside me.

He kissed my neck, grinding against my ass. Close to penetration, but not close enough. In desperation, I slid my hand between my legs and guided his shaft to my pussy.

As if on fire, he jerked away. “Dammit, Heather, why did you do that?”

“Because I want you to fuck me. How much more obvious can I make it?” Was the guy really so clueless?

“I can’t. How I wish I could, but I promised Erich—”

“Promised him what? If it involves me, I deserve to know.”

“You will find out soon enough.” He sat up, letting his gaze travel across the bed, avoiding a glance in my direction. “Until then, you will just have to be satisfied with what I can do.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Was there a promise of something more?

“This.” He laid me onto my back again and knelt between my spread legs, sinking two fingers deep inside me. Not his cock, but definitely better than nothing. Leaning down, he flicked his tongue against my clit. I drew in a much-needed breath, feeling more alive than I had in a long time. Alek’s thick, talented fingers sent me rushing toward my pending rapture. Waves of anticipation rippled through me. Such erotic torture.

PG-Excerpt
Some vacation. Nothing but snow for miles. I might as well have been visiting the North Pole with all the layers of clothing I had on. And, somehow, the cold wind still managed to find the small amount of face I didn’t have covered, stinging the skin around my eyes.
“Are we almost there?” I could barely see five feet in front of me, only the mountain of a man directly ahead. If he slowed down for one second, I’d grab his coat with one hand and cover the rest of my face with my free arm. But if I didn’t keep up, I’d get lost in the blizzard. “Seriously, is the place I’m staying anywhere nearby?” Every other hotel I’d stayed at had the check-in desk within the building. Apparently not this one.
The man didn’t respond, kept walking, guiding me, hopefully, to the glass igloo where my grandmother held a timeshare.
“Get away for a few days, Heather,” she’d said, handing me the plane ticket to Finland and shoving me out the door. “You’ll have a lot of fun and forget about your scum of a cheating fiancé. It’s been a year since you kicked him out. Time to move on. Show off your new curves.”
Sure, curves that I’d gained from spending a week eating nothing but ice cream. Not only had I gained ten pounds, but I’d started crying Ben & Jerry’s. It still hadn’t helped my pain. I’d loved Todd and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Unfortunately, my love hadn’t been returned. But, a trip wouldn’t make me forget what I’d walked in on two days before Christmas.
I’d tried to return the tickets. “Snow and cold really aren’t my thing, Grandma.” Give me a tropical beach somewhere with tanned, muscled men, and I’d at least try to get over Todd.
Refusing to take them back, she’d only patted my hands. “You’ll be surprised how much fun it is in Lapland. I would go, but I’m getting too old to enjoy the...amenities. It’s your turn now.” She winked and shut the door behind her.
And there I was, trekking through the knee-deep snow north of the Arctic Circle, dreading the blanket of white and cold I expected to last my entire vacation.

Bio:
I’m happily married with a naughty imagination. Sometimes all it takes is a whispered word or a sexy picture to inspire my next tale. My erotica stories may be contemporary, sci-fi, or paranormal, but all of them will leave you wet and panting for more. I also write science fiction romance as Jessica E. Subject.


Suggested Tags: Sexy Suitors from Space, Paisley Brown, sex, alien sex, alien probing, alien ménage, ménage, ménage a trois, erotica, alien erotica, MFM ménage, vacation, holiday, threesome, science fiction, science fiction erotica, science fiction romance, Finland, glass igloo, Nordic men, sexy men, Lapland, aliens, MFM

Monday, April 14, 2014

IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET? R U happy to read about a hot Sheriff and the Lady next door? She wants him to come see her sometime!

A Texas love affair between the hottie sheriff and his luscious next door neighbor?

You need this laughter with a dash of suspense! Available for the first time on NOOK, KOBO and iTunes as well as KINDLE and Are!!!

Cerise's Cherry, Pop One!

What’s a woman to do when she has the hots for the local sheriff—and he’s playing it cool? Mae Montaine knows the man has an ever-ready gun in his pocket and he’s always happy to see her.
So why won’t he come over and see her sometim for a date? A hug? A kiss? More?
West Farraday yearns for the All-American knock-out who lives next door, but Mae’s got problems and secrets. He’d love to help her out of her problems. And her clothes. Then into his bed.
When timing seems right, West makes his move. He’s happier than a colt in clover.
Mae’s skeptical they can make it as a couple. After all, town gossip says the good sheriff is hard on the ladies.
But when three bad coyotes invade Mae’s life, West tries to prove to her that a man who’s hard in the sack can be easy to love.
* * * 
 
West Farraday is a sheriff who’s hard on the ladies, hard in the sack, hard on the outlaws who dare enter his town.
Mae Montaine is a woman who’s easy on the eyes, tough on men’s egos…especially West’s.
Their Lone Star love affair?
Too hot to handle and too wild to ignore, especially when one bad coyote tears up West’s town and demands Mae pay prices West decides are much too high!





Soon at iTunes, too!

Now ready for a nibble?
Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2014
She smiled at West. “I certainly didn’t know why my sister and brother-in-law chose this town to settle down.”
“But you do now,” West added in a soothing, come-to-daddy drawl that compelled her to lock her gaze with his warm, sweet one.
She grabbed a breath to steady her thoughts and her hope that finally she might have breached this man’s shell of formality. “I do. And I want to stay. Give Emma the life that Kyle and Lou wanted for her.”
“You know how extraordinary that is?” he asked.
“What? To give a child the normal life she deserves?”
“That, yes. But to give it to her like her parents designed it? When you had a life of your own? When you could have taken her back to Newark and raised her there?”
She gave a laugh of derision. I owe it to her. I failed her mother when she needed me. I won’t fail Emma. “You haven’t been to Newark lately, have you?”
“I’ve flown in and out on my way to Manhattan to take in Broadway shows.”
“Wow.” His revelation shocked her from her morbid view of her own shortcomings. Now Mae viewed him through a new kaleidoscope of possibilities. He was more than the local sheriff, the town hunk, the ex-Marine who made all the ladies swoon. He lived in a bigger world than Winton, Texas. Bigger even than the desert sands of the Middle East and the skyscrapers of New York. “The things you don’t know about people.”
“Tell me.”
His sculpted lips were parted, eager to know more. His eyes were soft with concern, persuading her that he really did want to hear her rationale for coming here and staying here.
“Tell me,” he urged her on a murmur.
“I did have a life, if you want to call it that. I lived alone. Had a nice condo in a modern high rise. I had a solid job with a national accounting firm on Wall Street and a few promotions that were lucrative, if not fun. I had friends, a few whom I really loved and still do. I went to Broadway shows.” She gave him a nod and he responded with his own, acknowledging their mutual interest. “I did yoga, ran a few 5K races, went to Vegas with the girls now and then for the booze and the slots and the sights.”
“No dates?”
“A few.”
“No men who stayed?”
Mae noticed he drew nearer. “Not for long.”
“Why?” He was almost whispering as he braced his hands on the counter on either side of her, boxing her in, driving the air from her lungs.
“I told them to leave.”
“Why?”
“They liked my looks. Didn’t bother to learn what was in my brain.”
“They bored you?” he asked with a lopsided smile and raised brows.
“I want to be valued for more than my measurements.”
“Then I’ll invite you to fly to New York with me. Pick a weekend.” He drifted closer, his handsome, chiseled mouth such a warm temptation. “A show.”
A room with you? Could I be so lucky? “What’s playing?”
“Whatever you choose.” Another fraction of an inch and his lips would be on hers.
She swallowed, her fingers itching to wrap around his biceps and draw him against her. “That’s an offer I hate to refuse.”
“Then don’t.” He brushed his lips on hers, his eyes falling closed in the dreamiest way.
Could he want her that much? For more than one night? His big hands cupped her shoulders and pulled her to him. Heavenly warmth infused her. “We’ll have to take Emma.”
“We can hire a sitter from the hotel for the play.”
“They’re good? The sitters?” she asked, her own eyes fluttering in the assault of his little kisses, light as the touch of butterflies’ wings to her parted lips.
“The sheriff down in DeWitt County told me that he and his wife hired one not too long ago. He told me they’re vetted. Bonded.” His smile was pure male seduction. “Come with me, Mae.”
The velvet intonation of his deep bass voice was an invitation to more than a weekend in New York, and she knew it.
She grinned broadly, humbled but also tickled by this compliment. In the process, her torso brushed his. “I could say you’re being very forward.”
He ran his big, warm hands up her arms to her shoulders and her throat to cup her face. His generous mouth teased her with a lush kiss and she sighed into him. “You could tell me to stop.”
“I won’t.” She ran her hands up his chest. “You could tell me to stop.”
“Can’t,” he gruffed. “I want this too much.”
“You’ve never let me see that you were interested in me until now.”
“I wanted to be careful with you. Not show you too much and have you run away.” He hugged her as if he were a big warm bear.
She pressed against him, his rock wall body, his raging heat, and then she wound her arms around those incomparable broad shoulders and sank her fingers into his rich, silken hair. Against her mound, she felt his steely cock. “You’ve shown me enough for me to see that this,” she cooed as she undulated against his very impressive package, “is no gun in your pocket.”

Snorting, he chuckled at the ceiling as if he asked heaven above for mercy, then he crushed her against him, chest to breasts, belly to belly and cock to pussy. “Every inch of me is happy to be here.”




Saturday, April 12, 2014

Pop #Cerise DeLand's Cherry! YUM. IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET? 99 cents on Kindle, NOOK, KOBO, soon on iTunes!

Cerise DeLand's Cherry logo
Pop One!
So many of you have loved my Cherry logo! Now, I double your pleasure using it as my logo for publishing my spicy romances.

The first will be to celebrate the release in all digital vendors of my funny, well acclaimed IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET? starring (who else?) Mae and West in a contemporary western comedy, suspense set in Texas!  Yes, this is available on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo, iTunes soon!
(Yes, it is only 99 cents for 29,000 words!)

What's the wrinkle in IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET? Aside from the funny Mae West angle?

West Farraday, a sheriff who’s hard on the ladies, hard in the sack, hard on the outlaws who dare enter his town...

Mae Montaine, a woman who’s easy on the eyes, tough on men’s egos…especially West’s.

Their Lone Star love affair?
Too hot to handle and too wild to ignore, especially when one bad coyote tears up West’s town and demands Mae pay prices West decides are much too high!




Soon at iTunes, too!



Friday, April 11, 2014

Many thx to readers who make HIS DELECTABLE COOK a best selling #Regency a quatre!

http://amzn.to/12sCU9v
YUM YUM! MY DELECTABLE Joy to thank all of you who love this multiple partner romance, Regency style!

My Regency with a scrumptious cook, her spicy hot “lord” and a dash of mystery!

When Bess Deveraux secures a position as cook in the household of the delectable devil who taught her the joy of loving years ago, she shows him that she has more to offer him now that she is older, wiser, and oh so eager to please all the men in his employ.

http://amzn.to/12sCU9v   

Bess Deveraux learned the joy of loving years ago at the hands of a masterful man. But her family forbid her his notorious company. Now, at the opportunity to not only find that man again but also work for him, Bess secures a position in his household.

Lord Taryn Wentworth has no idea where this delightful woman has been or how she managed to stand before him as his cook, but he is determined to enjoy her, her delectable offerings—and to offer them to his male staff as well.
Taryn knows his lovely cook will agree to revel in every delight he has in store for her. After all, pretty Bess is an expert not merely in the fine art of satisfying human appetites, but in the refined art of pleasing many men at once, offering up her succulent body—in the dining room, on the kitchen table, on the floor and anywhere else her fancy or her master’s lead her.
A nibble of this?You do need the sustenance, don’t you?

Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2013.

     “Bess Deveraux stood before her new employer, prim as a blushing bride, which she most definitely was not, and proud as the virago she wished to become. And all because the man she faced was precisely the type of master she had yearned for since she first discovered the joys her body could give her six long years ago. He embodied all the essential qualities she desired in a lord and master: He was handsome, self-possessed, filthy rich and scandal-ridden. At the moment, he was also astonished at her appearance before him. The tick in his left cheek told that tale.
     “Mrs O’Brien assures me you are qualified for my household.” Lord Taryn Wentworth sat, loose-boned, maddeningly louche, in a large leather chair examining her from across his sun-dappled library.
Betty flushed with pride at her accomplishment to jump the gauntlet of the acerbic housekeeper and appear before him as the woman’s choice for the cook’s position. The servant had riddled her with questions for hours about her previous experience and her employers.
   “She informs me you are experienced with supper parties and balls.” One long well-muscled leg across the other, Wentworth pursed his full lips together as his searing sapphire eyes assessed her chin, her throat and her bosom in the cook’s shapeless white attire.
   At his gravelly base voice, Betty refrained from shifting on her feet as her nipples peaked high and hard against the rough cotton of her new uniform. She was so right not to have donned a corset this morning. Nor worn any pantalets. After all, she had taken this position to be free of all social restraints.
   “Betty!” Mrs. O’Brien chastised her to respond to the man who had recently inherited this Mayfair house, an older pile in Dorset, an earldom and twenty thousand a year income. “Do answer his lordship.”
   Betty locked eyes with him, the rogue. “I was not aware it was a question.”
   “Careful, girl,” O’Brien growled.
   Betty caught his lordship fighting a smile. “Yes, of course. Pardon me, Went— “ No, not so familiar, Bess! “Sorry, my lord. I am very accomplished at preparing party menus. Game, beef, puddings.”
   “Red snapper?”
   Betty suppressed a chuckle at his lewd reference. How like the scoundrel to try to make her laugh. “I have it on good authority that my fish is superbly prepared. Always in a savoury sauce.”
   He rubbed his lower lip with the tip of one index finger. “How are your sweet things?”
   When properly prepared? “They melt in your mouth.”
   “Tempting,” he conceded with a tour of her body from generous breasts to tiny waist and the length of her legs. She had heard his eyes could scald and titillate. Her cunny swelled with the proof. “And what of your cakes? Do you work with chocolate?”
   “I can bake one for you, my lord.”
   “Frosted?”
    Irritable and commanding this morning, are we, my lord Wentworth? Hmm. “Of course. Marzipan. Vanilla glaze. Whatever you—“
   “What do you do with strawberries? Peaches?”
   The devil. Her nipples pebbled like strawberries. Eager to have those luscious lips of his sucking them. And her peaches? She squeezed her pussy walls together. Yes. Her peaches were plump and ready to be bitten into. “Such delicacies, I offer ripe and sugared with—”
   “Ices?” he cut her off with a narrowing of his sparkling eyes and a shift in his chair.
   Uncomfortable, my lord?  This is your fault, you realize. You did ask. “Yes. Sculptured, my lord. Swans, birds and—“
   “I see,” he said though what he was looking at was her nipples peaking against the muslin uniform.    “Where did you learn to carve ice?”
   “In the house where I grew up, my dearest friend was the cook.”
   His cool façade fell from his face at hearing this tidbit. “Was your friend, the sculptress, also expert with her dishes?”
   “A fine chef, my lord. My father became enchanted with her finesse and claimed no one could make a soufflé that compared. I learned much from her.”
   “Such as?”
   Ah. You taunt me at your own risk, Wentworth. “She declared if one fed a man what he loved, he would return, hungry forevermore.”
   “Astute of her.” He, over the shock of gazing at her heart-shaped face and limpid eyes, grew more relaxed. Even jovial.
   “True, my lord.” Betty rocked back on her heels, bolder now that she had him in conversation. “She was most particular instructing me on how to prepare any organ from a large animal, most especially his brain.”
   He arched a brow at her. “For example, what?”
   “How to tenderize a big piece of meat.” She used her hands illustrating her passion to pull and draw on one specific part of a male animal.
   O’Brien cleared her throat.
   Betty clasped her hands behind her back, rising on her toes and thrusting out her heavy breasts. “I roast a succulent duck, as well. Do you like duck, my lord?”
   “I appreciate all things succulent, Betty.” He flashed a smile at her, a rueful twitch of that libertine’s mouth. One Bess had to trace and taste very soon. “Leave us, Mrs. O’Brien.”
   “My lord, I depart here in the morning for the house in Dorset as you requested,” the housekeeper bit off her words, miffed at her dismissal from this interview, “but I have not yet discussed the menu with her for tomorrow evening and with a new butler and footman—“

   “I will tell her what to serve.” Wentworth waved the woman toward the door, though his gaze locked on Betty’s. “She will inform you after I am done with her. You may go to your duties, Mrs. O’Brien.”

Thursday, April 10, 2014

BEYOND ADDICTION by Desiree Holt is BEYOND FABULOUS!

The answer to 50 Shades of Grey?
BEYOND ADDICTION by my buddy Desiree Holt.
THIS IS THE REAL story you yearned for and missed in 50 Shades of...whatever.
Sequel to Dangerous Addiction, from Something Wicked This Way Comes, Volume 1
   When Fallon Crowe discovered her submissive side, she indulged it fully, reveling in her erotic nature—until she stepped into the brutally possessive world of Brian Willoughby. More than a year after she was literally dragged away from his abusive clutches,    Fallon is finally building a new life with Cord Jamieson, a Dom who reminds her that punishment can be loving, pain an aphrodisiac.
   But when Fallon unexpectedly runs into Brian, he reawakens an addiction that never quite died. Now she’s torn between the caring relationship she’s established with Cord, and Brian’s darkly mesmerizing lifestyle that goes beyond safe, sane and consensual.
   The choice is Fallon’s—the wrong one might destroy her completely.

Inside Scoop: This story features an abusive scene from a power-hungry man who’s perverted the lifestyle for his own sick pleasure. It may be too intense for some readers.
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Your nibble:
Copyright 2014, Desiree Holt
  Cord hung his Stetson on a peg in the back hall and toed off his boots. They were covered in mud and various other substances and badly needed cleaning, but at the moment he was just too tired. He and the hands had spent most of the day riding fence line and making sure every pasture was secure before his new shipment of cattle arrived. They’d been a steal at an auction and he couldn’t resist. The bank had extended a substantial line of credit and that was the perfect reason to tap into it.
  Everything was coming together much better than he could have hoped. The herd was finally at the size it needed to be and in the spring there would be new calves. The pastures of coastal hay were in good shape. And the work on the event center was nearly finished. Next week, he’d work with the hands who’d be leading trail rides and giving lessons and offering other guest activities, and oversee the finishing touches to the stables.
  AT least he could relax where the party was concerned. Fallon was working her magic with an ease that he admired. He smiled as he thought about how much pleasure she brought to all areas of his life. After the party, after the post-event details were seen to, he planned to take her away for a long weekend where he could tie her to the bed and pleasure both of them in as many ways as he could dream up.
Just the thought of that was enough to make his cock harden and strain against the fly of his jeans.
  In the bedroom, he stripped off his clothes and dumped them in the hamper, then stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was so aroused he was almost tempted to take himself in hand and smooth out the edge while the hot water poured over him. Then he thought about Fallon, who was due home very soon, and decided he had much better ways to satisfy his lust.
  He was just wrapping the bath towel around his hips when he heard her moving around in the bedroom. He opened the bathroom door, smiling—until he took a good look at her and his body tensed. Nearly all the color was gone from her face, her soft-pink lipstick seeming like a slash of vivid red in comparison. Her movements as she undressed were jerky, not smooth, as usual. Her body language was that of someone who had been through an emotional wringer.
  What worried him most was the lack of eye contact. That was so out of character, at least for the woman he was used to.
  “Fallon?” He moved closer. “Did something happen today? Your lunch with Claie? Something happen with the errands?”
  She just shook her head and continued removing her clothing like a robot.
  What the fuck?
  And then out of nowhere, it hit him.
  She’d seen him.
  The bastard who’d fucked up her life. Fucked up her. Had she run into him or had she deliberately sought him out? Shit, he didn’t know how he’d handle it if it was the latter. It took all his willpower not to smash his fist against the wall.
  Pulling himself together, he used his best Dom voice. “Fallon. Look at me. Now!” he snapped when she continued to look down at her feet.
  She lifted her face to his, her expression a mixture of regret and disgust, but didn’t meet his gaze.
  “You saw him today, right? That asshole you refuse to talk about?”
  She nodded.
  “Was it deliberate? Did you call him?” He was barely holding his temper in check. “Answer me, girl.”
  “No, Sir.” She still hadn’t looked at him. From the moment he spoke she’d been in full submissive mode, only her attitude was more one of defeat than supplication.

  What the fuck happened out there today? She was doing so well? We were doing so well.

Who is Desiree Holt?
Known the world over as The Oldest Living Erotica Author, Desiree Holt has gathered experiences in everything from newspaper work to running her own music and promotions agency. She is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of the Holt Medallion, multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award and is published by five different houses. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today and numerous other national publications.



Sunday, April 6, 2014

THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE quartet ~ Top 10 list of #bestselling #erotica #Regencies on 3 different lists for over 8 months! Out soon in BOX SET!

THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE quartet on Top 10 bestseller lists for more than 8 months!

Need nibbles of my Stanhope men in action?Of course you do!Here is LORD STANHOPE's IMPROPER PROPOSAL!

The Stanhope Challenge, Book 1
ARe BestsellerLord Adam Stanhope faces the Stanhope Challenge of wanting to marry…and knowing it will be loveless and tormenting. But he takes one look at his childhood friend, now a lovely widow, and proposes a marriage in name only. But when he learns that his bride is determined to be his lover as well as his wife, he faces a bigger challenge: Accept her delicious offer to delight them both in bed or spend his life in a greater torment…alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And the taste?

Excerpt Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand, All rights reserved.
London, January 1809
It is a truth, universally accepted, that a politician in want of the premiership must also be in want of a wife.
Felice knew that was her new husband’s justification for marrying her so quickly.
“A reason as good as my own,” she told herself as she combed her hair back from her face and fluffed the ruffled bodice of her wedding dress. She pursed her lips, wondering how Adam really kissed a woman. How he kissed his mistresses. He had merely brushed her own mouth with his after the ceremony minutes ago. She’d always thought her lips worth more than a peck—and she was determined that this second husband of hers would do more than ignore her.
“I’ll insure that he does,” she resolved, with a check of her figure in the cheval mirror in the retiring room of her new brother-in-law’s mansion on Grosvenor Square. “After all, the fictitious Miss Proper has charms that Adam does not know about.” Nor should he!
That secret could ruin her marriage. “And I intend to keep both!”
So go to your wedding breakfast and be done with this mooning! You accepted his proposal! Now reap the rewards! London Society is open to you—the excitement of their lives, their intrigues ready fodder for your pen. For your romances and your poems.
She frowned at herself.
Be honest, Fee. You want more than inspiration for your stories. More than a means to repay that nefarious man your first husband’s debt. You want Adam Stanhope gracing your own bed, not just his look alike walking on the pages of your newest romance. You want him inside your body. Making you wet and warm. And kissing your—
A quick knock at the door had her whirling.
“Dear Felice,” cooed her husband’s Great Aunt Amaryllis from behind the portal. “Do come out now. We are quite eager to applaud you and Adam. The guests, too, are clamoring for the receiving line!”
Most likely, the men want more wine while they make wagers on how soon Adam will bed me. And the women? They want to assess how a country mouse like me managed to snare the renowned, rich and eloquent Adam Stanhope. Third son of the earl. Widower. Father. Some day soon, the head of his party, if the papers and broadsheets are to be believed. And thereafter certainly, Prime Minister.
“Adam Stanhope,” she murmured to herself. “A great catch, Fee. If you can intrigue him.”
And there was the rub.
Adam, now thirty, was notorious for outlandish behavior. When he’d turned seventeen, he’d run away from home and sailed to Hong Kong to work with his cousin in his Far Eastern trading company. Four years later, he’d come home to finish his education at Cambridge, marry the beauty of the Season and run for Parliament. He’d won twice now. But since his wife had died in childbirth, Adam had made a name for himself as a rake. He was just like his brothers in that regard. Still, he was the only one who had married and challenged the Stanhope family curse. For it was a legend that no matter whom a Stanhope married, no matter that person’s quality of character or breeding or good intentions, once wedded, a Stanhope lived in hell.
“I will be happy.” Felice repeated the phrase that had become her motto ever since Adam had appeared in Kent last month and proposed. “I’ll dispense with this hideous man plaguing me at once. Then I will devote myself to ensuring Adam is happy. I will be a social asset to him. And a good mother to his son.”
What more could a man ask for?
* * * *
“A politician has to have a wife! Who the devil put that ridiculous rule about, Reggie?” Adam Stanhope asked his friend as he paced in his brother Jack’s drawing room at eleven in the morning. He threw back another shot of Jack’s fine brandy and coughed. “Oh, lord, that burns all the way down. Whose idea was it to stay out all night, eh?” He scrubbed his hand over his face, acknowledging his predicament had less to do with excess alcohol than with Fee Wentworth. Correction, Stanhope. “Dammit, you’d think a respectable widower with an heir earned the right to be free!”
“No help for it, old man,” Reggie responded and drained his glass of spirits. “Damn good stuff, if I say so myself! But see here, Adam, you admitted you need her. We’ve been through this entire argument before. You’ve got a bit of a reputation, courtesy of that Miss Proper ramblings and—”
The far door burst open. Adam’s oldest brother, Jack, appeared in all his dark imperious hauteur. He took one look at both men and slipped inside to shut the world out. “Now, Adam. Reggie. What the hell are you doing in here drinking?”
Adam cocked a long black brow at the man who expected to be obeyed in all things. “Drowning my sorrows.”
“Too late for that!” Jack’s mouth twitched in a grin. “Get the hell out here and let’s toast the good health of the bride and groom.”
“Come, come, Jack, you know what this means for me.”
Jack’s black brows arched high. “Oh, I do. One look at your bride and I have a very good idea that—”
Adam scowled at his brother. “She’s lovely.” Damned gorgeous, in fact. And mine, god help me now. “But I have ruined her.”
Jack startled. “You’ve had her? Already?”
“No, no. That’s not what I mean.”
Jack strode over to remove the snifter glass from Adam’s fingertips. “I know what you mean. And this does not help.”
“I’ve known her since she was ten, Jack!” Adam thrust out a hand, roiled by what he had just done to this sweet, shy woman.
“And? She was a charming child then. Now you have—“
“Wrecked her life! That’s what I’ve done!”
Jack narrowed his eyes on his brother. “How late did you stay at White’s last night?”
When Adam said “Ba!” and shook his head, Jack peered at Reggie. “How late?”
The man winced and brushed imaginary crumbs from his cravat. “Five. Six. Not certain. We were winning at dice, you see, and couldn’t leave.”
Jack stared at the ceiling. “I hope to god it was profitable.”
Adam grinned. “Five thousand in my pockets I hadn’t had before!”
The far door opened again. An auburn-haired man stuck his head in and grimaced. “What the hell is the delay here?”
Jack beckoned him. “Wes, Adam is having a rather belated moment of introspection. Do come in and help me talk sense into our youngest brother.”
Wes took a step inside and shut the door behind him. In his cavalryman’s dress blues, he leaned back against the door. “What’s the matter, Adam? Nerves?”
Adam rolled his shoulders. “Every man’s entitled. You told me so yourself.”
“That,” Wes chuckled as he limped over to the chair beside Adam and fell into it, “is before a man goes into battle!”
“Well, I am!”
Wes gave him the quelling glance his men termed The Demand. “You are married.”
“I know I thought it a good idea. Despite the nightmare I lived through with Sarah.” The mere mention of his first wife sent a wave of revulsion through him. “Everyone thought it a good idea. My colleagues. The Prime Minister. But you both, most of all, know this won’t work.”
Wes pursed his lips. “I’ve seen your new lady wife, and I say give it a go. If you admit defeat before you start, you’re doomed.”
“This is not a cavalry charge,” Adam murmured.
Wes shrugged. “Perhaps it should be.”
“Wes, have a little pity,” Adam pleaded, his head splitting from too much whiskey and too little sleep.
“No pity for you,” Wes shot back. “Felice lives up to her name in temperament as far as I can tell. And her figure, Adam, has certainly become more alluring than when I last saw her in Great Aunt Amaryllis’ garden.”
“She was ten!”
“Was she, now? Hmm. No wonder she was flat-chested.”
“Now see here,” Adam admonished his older brother. “Her figure is—”
“Superb and yours to explore.” Wes wiggled his brows suggestively, then looked at Jack. “We met her when we first summered at Aunt’s house. What year was it Father foisted us off on the poor old gel?”
Adam groaned. “It doesn’t matter!”
I liked her then. Enjoyed her wit and intelligence every time we met. Now I’ve gone and hurt her irrevocably.
Jack shook his head. “Don’t argue with him, Wes. He’s got a snoot full from an all-night gambling rout at White’s. It only encourages him to debate you. And neither of us can ever outtalk him.” He gave his brother, the Colonel and Man of Action, a wide-eyed look of despair. “The curse is upon him.”
“Oh, hell,” Wes mourned. “Not that again.”
Adam frowned at both of his brothers. “That again? I don’t seem to recall that either of you is yet married. Why not?”
“Not our time,” Jack told him.
“No woman I like enough,” Wes added. “You, Jack?”
“None I cannot live without,” Jack said with pointed disdain for the subject. “Come on, Adam, let’s do our drinking out there with all the others.”
“They all wonder, you know,” Adam offered, his gaze on the door.
“What?” Reggie asked when the two Stanhope brothers didn’t respond to him.
All three Stanhopes considered Reggie Mortenson with bleak expressions.
Adam answered for them all. “They wonder when Felice will leave me. As we speak, they are out there taking wagers on the number of months she remains.”
“The Stanhope women don’t all leave,” Jack reminded Adam.
The three brothers winced and looked at anything but each other. Adam knew each man thought of his own mother and how each had died in succession. And even though Jack’s mother passed away after a riding accident, Wes’s died of consumption and Adam’s of childbed fever, the ton declared each woman had suffered first and foremost from a broken heart.
“He says he loved each one,” Jack reminded them of the phrase their father repeated to them often.
Adam shut his eyes. “He declares he loved Clarice’s mother, too!” Their charming half-sister Clarice had been Stanhope’s by-blow, conveniently born between Jack and Wes.
“Aye,” Wes acknowledged with a smirk. “In his prime, the man was a walking satyr.”
Jack inclined his head toward Wes. “Astonishing, isn’t it, that he managed his estates as well as he did, hopping from bed to bed like a right royal degenerate.” He flourished a hand. “Yet, he cared for each woman he bedded.”
Adam growled. “How can you believe him?” He had never known their father to be honest with anyone, least of all his three legitimate sons. “You were four,” Adam reminded Jack, then faced Wes. “And you were two when I was born and my mother took a childbed fever. How can you know that he tells the truth?”
Jack rolled a shoulder. “Perhaps on this one issue…”
Adam shook his head, hands fisted on his hips. “I long to see the day each of you faces a woman whom you do not wish to kill with the family curse.” He straightened his cravat and ran two hands through his hair. “Open the damn door, Wesley, I’m ready to claim my bride and ruin both our lives.”


Friday, April 4, 2014

#Regency Stanhope Challenge stars 4 brothers, 4 love affairs, 4 marriages...cursed to go wrong!

THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE quartet ~ Top 10 best-selling erotica Regencies on 3 different lists for over 8 months! Out now in BOX SET!

LORD STANHOPE'S IMPROPER PROPOSAL

The Stanhope Challenge, Book 1
ARe BestsellerLord Adam Stanhope faces the Stanhope Challenge of wanting to marry…and knowing it will be loveless and tormenting. But he takes one look at his childhood friend, now a lovely widow, and proposes a marriage in name only. But when he learns that his bride is determined to be his lover as well as his wife, he faces a bigger challenge: Accept her delicious offer to delight them both in bed or spend his life in a greater torment…alone.

LADY FEATHERSTONE’S FERVENT AFFAIR

The Stanhope Challenge, Book 2
ARe BestsellerWillful Lady Lacy Featherstone knows how the lack of love can warp a person’s life. When her dashing fiancé, Colonel Wesley Stanhope retreats to his hunting lodge after a devastating cavalry injury in Spain, she sweeps into Wes’s hideaway with a scandalous proposal. Wes will make her his wife or she’ll make him her lover. But if Lacy cannot conquer the Hero of Talavera with logic and kisses, how risqué must she become to prove that she is his equal in fortitude…and the only one worthy to grace his bed?
Bonus! This title includes a free read, Lady Ramsey’s Ribald Choices. Don’t miss this additional installment to the Stanhope Challenge series!
Read an Excerpt

MISS DARLING’S INDECENT OFFER

The Stanhope Challenge, Book 3
Night Owl Romance To PickARe BestsellerEmma Darling needs a protector and when she appeals to Jack Stanhope, she knows that the noted rake has never wished for a wife. That’s fine by Emma, who wants a husband—and not just in name—but only for little while.
Jack is keen to avoid the bad luck that plagues Stanhope marriages, but this gamin beauty rouses his protective instincts and his satyr’s hunger. Can he escape their temporary marriage and a few, blissful weeks of carnal delight with his heart intact? Or will taking her to his bed ruin each of them for any other lover?

THE BASTARD’S PASSIONATE PRIZE

The Stanhope Challenge, Book 4
Blurb: When the bastard of the Stanhope clan falls for an heiress, he has no idea how much she will sacrifice to have him as her husband. Her good name, her home, her family and her virtue. A man can be noble for only so long. But when she stows away on his ship—and they are blown off course and taken by Barbary pirates, what else will she do to save the man she adores?
And can he find a way to save her life—even if he cannot save her from these ruthless ruffians?