Sugar and Spice by Kristin Beairsto ~ CBLS Barrage

Sugar & Spice

by Kristen Beairsto

Self-Published

Contemporary Romance

Heat Level: Steamy

Length: 122 pages

Available at:

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Sugar-Spice-ebook/dp/B0093TKJYQ/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1349920123&sr=1-3&keywords=kristen+beairsto

B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sugar-spice-kristen-beairsto/1112714522?ean=2940015057928

Kobo – http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Sugar-Spice/book-xOgJu6bt4EmbqQsTfsfFEQ/page1.html?s=x43Zk-vtcUqS9ZLA7GnbTw&r=2

Blurb:

Sugar and spice makes everything nice, but mixing business and pleasure can come with a price . . .

Francis Stevens – Frankie to her friends – has declared herself permanently single after a couple of monumentally disastrous relationships.  And she doesn’t mind at all.  Between the international expansion of the lingerie catalog company she runs with her friends, labor strikes, and her regular work load, she has little time for love or a relationship.

But Royce Weston has other ideas.  After his family accuses him of becoming a workaholic, a chance encounter with Frankie at a night club has his mind on things other than business.  As luck would have it, Royce winds up the executive assigned to work with Frankie and her lingerie company when she partners with his family’s investment firm to fund her expansion.

Despite Frankie’s outward appearance of confidence and swagger, insecurities rear up and cause her to over compensate and drive harder for what she wants.  Doubts weigh her down and with Royce watching her every move, she fights to keep her businesswoman’s façade firmly in place.  But while Frankie tries her best to keep her mind on business, she can’t ignore the way Royce’s touch makes her feel or the fact that he makes it clear he’s interested in more than just a business relationship.  When all of her defense mechanisms fail to keep him at arm’s length, Frankie finds herself wondering: is it possible to mix business and pleasure?

Excerpt:

“Any chance you’d leave the catalog to come have dinner with me?”

Frankie froze.  Was he asking her out?  She shook her head, reminding herself it didn’t matter.

Frankie dropped her pencil and sat back in her chair to stretch for a moment, “Sorry, I can’t.  I need to get this done as soon as possible.  Wisconsin really set me back.”  She tried to stomp down her regret.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Whipping around, Frankie stared disbelieving at the sight of Royce standing in the doorway leading to her office.  Looking much the same the night he showed up at her apartment with dark hair mussed, suit jacket slung over his arm, tie undone hanging around his neck, and his briefcase in his hand along with a brown paper bag.  In his free hand, he held his BlackBerry to his ear.

The corner of his mouth curving upward, he took the phone from his ear and turned it off without taking his eyes off her.

“How did you get in?” Frankie finally asked when she found her voice again.

Arching a brow, Royce pointed to the cell phone she still held to her ear.

Turning her head, Frankie looked blankly at the phone as though she didn’t know how it got there.  With an embarrassed blush rushing up her cheeks, she rolled her eyes at herself and turned the phone off.

Royce strolled into the room, “You forget, Weston, Inc. owns this building, which means I have access to a key,” he set his briefcase and the bag of food on the table beside her layouts, “but we can’t talk because we have to dance.”

Totally bewildered, Frankie just stared at him, “Huh?”

Coming around behind her chair, Royce pulled it out from under the table, “My mother was born and raised in Vegas.  If there’s one thing she taught me, other than never talk to strangers and always brush my teeth …” he informed her as he pulled Frankie to her feet, her shock at his sudden appearance and his announcement made it easy.

Taking her hand in his, he moved her other hand to his shoulder and his free hand took up a firm position at the small of her back.  He pulled her so close she felt the heat of his body envelop her, “You never let a beautiful woman sit while she listened to Ol’ Blue Eyes.  Frank’s songs were made for dancing.”

As Fly With Me began, Frankie had the vague sensation of her feet moving in step as Royce led her in time with the melody.

“I should warn you, I’ve broken toes before,” she tried for a light tone.  She found herself having a hard time breathing.  Had the room been this warm all night?

With the same lopsided grin, “I think I’ll take my chances,” he informed her right before moving her into an unexpected turn.

Almost losing her balance, Royce caught her just before she lost her footing, causing her to laugh as she fell back in step with him.  She couldn’t help but enjoy herself.  When he moved for another turn, she stood ready for him, laughing smugly, ridiculously proud of herself.

“Not bad,” he gave an approving nod.

“Maybe for an empty office, but not exactly ballroom material,” she joked.

The song ended and flowed into Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered so quickly, Frankie didn’t even notice when Royce slowed their movements considerably.

Smiling at him, Frankie relished the feel of his arms firmly around her for a moment, “You’re very good at this.”

Royce grinned, “It’s one of the main attractions on my resume.  My mother thinks it’s romantic to be able to dance this way, while my father only knows how to dance this way.  When they started dragging me to their friends’ parties, I didn’t have a choice but to learn.”

“Well, you’re still very good.  And I agree with your mother, it is romantic,” she chuckled.

When they actually stopped moving, Frankie didn’t know.  But she soon realized they stood still, his fierce sapphire gaze locked with hers.  She ordered herself to break the contact to look anywhere else but into his eyes, but she couldn’t.

He leaned slightly downward towards her, “Maybe Mom was right,” he whispered, his head descending the rest of the way.

About the Author:

In between her to-be-read pile and trying to bring the characters in her head alive, Kristen spends as much time as she can with family and friends.  Much to her husband’s dismay, she enjoys collecting purses, shoes, and jewelry.  During those rare times she’s not working at her day job, rushing her daughters somewhere, watching movies with her husband, and trying to meet a deadline, she can usually be found energetically cheering for one of her favorite New York sports teams.

As with just about every other writer on the planet, Kristen grew up an avid reader.  She started with young adult before she technically hit the age range and moved on to sci-fi classics by Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury.  At fifteen, her best friend gave her a book she just had to read! The book was Honest Illusions by Nora Roberts.  Always a sucker for a happy ending, she was a goner and fell in love with the romance genre.  Having started writing novel length stories at the age of eleven, Kristen’s stories all took a romantic turn from that point on.

Visit Kristen online at:

Email – kristen.beairsto@yahoo.com

Website – http://www.KristenBeairsto.com

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/AuthorKristenBeairsto

Twitter – https://twitter.com/#!/AuthorKBeairsto

 

Prize is 5 eBook copies of “Sugar & Spice” (1 each to 5 winners). Contest is tour-wide and open internationally. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter. Ends Dec 4. CLICK HERE for the schedule and Rafflecopter Link to enter

CBLS VBT Barrage: Lustful Cravings by Paloma Beck

Title: Lustful Cravings (Seven Sin Sisters, Book One)

Author: Paloma Beck

Publisher: Secret Cravings Publishing

Length: 96 pages

Genre(s): Erotic Paranormal Romance (M/F/M)

Heat Level: Sizzling

 

BUY LINK

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=383

BLURB

Seven sisters are entwined in a legacy bigger than anyone ever expected. One by one, they will find their mates from the immortal Valendite breeds and secure their place in history. Each sister embodies one of the seven deadly sins only to be cast aside once claimed. But claiming comes at the price of separation, causing a weakening of their combined powers, which none want to happen… until Layla, holding the sin of lust within her body, locks eyes with Madden.

Madden is one of the strongest of the Valendite Breed, a group of near-immortal men originating from the Italian Wars in the 1500s. Today, the Valendite Breed serve as the Terrorist Elimination Unit (TEU), an invisible arm of the CIA. Their only weakness is their need for a mate to carry on the Breed.  So now that Madden has found Layla, he will never let her go.

With forces mounting up against the Breed, Madden and Layla will need to rely on all of their powers combined to get them to their Pronouncement.

R EXCERPT

Madden traced the Magdalena Circle sign just above Layla’s right breast with his tongue. The sign showed Layla’s soul sin was lust, which meant until meeting him she’d not experienced such sexual desire. Layla must have known that he was her mate immediately by her desire at the bar when they first saw each other. Madden understood why she ran. Such intense feelings after so many years of life with no type of desire must’ve been frightening.

Madden continued to lick and suck at the spot that bore her sign as her moans grew louder. Clearly, this felt good to her. Perhaps the skin near her sign was sensitive. Madden grinned at the thought as he watched Layla whimper with desire and toss her head back and forth against the pillow. Madden’s own desire grew with each sound from his mate. He grunted as he moved down the length of her body, licking from her breasts to her belly button where he swirled his tongue around until she called out his name, “Madden. Madden.” He loved his name on her lips as she looked so thoroughly flushed.

“What is it, Layla love?”

“I need more.” Layla spoke so quietly, so timidly, Madden knew she was uncertain. He couldn’t wait to be the man who brought out her confidence in bed, the one who taught her how to find satisfaction for all her sexual needs.

“Then I will give you more,” Madden moved further down to the tiny thatch of curls just above her core. He rubbed his nose into her curls and smelled the rich aroma of her desire. It was like chocolate and honey, tickling his nose and causing his hunger to multiply. He sat up on his knees and looked up her body before placing one hand on her belly and moving his other to stroke her curls, skimming the apex of her core as he readied her for him.

With one finger, he explored deeper, pressing along her wet folds. Layla shook beneath his hand but he kept her still. “No moving, love. Just enjoy.” Suddenly right where he wanted to be, Madden felt in no hurry. Time stood still as he prepared her for him. She grew wetter as her sweet moans grew louder and he knew he’d always remember this one moment when he claimed his mate.

“It is incredible. I can feel not only my own desire but yours as well,” Layla’s high-pitched voice fought for the breath to finish her words.

“Yes, my need and your need. They’re connected. It’s part of the claiming, Layla love.” If possible, Madden grew even harder as he let himself consider being bound to someone so seemingly perfect for eternity.

Madden smiled, allowing his need to wash through him so he could hold onto this moment. She was perfect for him. He sank one finger deep inside her channel and she pushed against his hand again. He palmed his own erection with a promise of more to come.

“Please. Please. Please,” Layla began chanting and ended his resolve. From all the wetness on his fingers, he imagined she must be ready for him. He brought his moist fingers to his lips and licked them, sucking them into his mouth as Layla watched. Her eyes were sparkling. Small embers released from them like lightning bugs in the night sky. It was her magic and it was beautiful.

Madden secured her knees in each of his arms and placed himself at her core, opening her to his body and slowly pushed himself inside. Working to control his own need, he shifted just an inch at a time and allowed her to accommodate him slowly. Their eyes remained connected and he was vigilant for any sign of discomfort. It would destroy him to know he’d caused her pain.

Just when he felt a slight resistance and knew he was at her barrier, Madden used his fingers to arouse her clit, bring the flood of pleasure to that small tip, and push Layla to the edge of orgasm. He watched as first she tried to understand the feelings flooding her and then to fight them. Finally, Layla simply gave herself over to him. Just as she was going over the edge, he pushed himself farther inside and she screamed out her first orgasm. There would be more tonight.

AUTHOR BIO & LINKS

Paloma Beck is an erotic romance writer in both the Contemporary and Paranormal realms. Happily married and living a life of total contradiction, Paloma runs carpool service for her three sons, volunteers in PTA and teaches religious education.

Then in the moments when her characters talk to her, she journals their stories – and they are anything but PG. As a natural introvert, quiet time with her characters is necessary to keep sane while writing is the perfect outlet for her creativity.

Paloma believes a daily dose of coffee and a good book make any day better.

BLOG: http://RomanceBeckons.blogspot.com

TWITTER: https://twitter.com/PalomaBeck

FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/PalomaBeckAuthor

FACEBOOK PAGE: http://www.facebook.com/SevenSinSistersSeries

GOODREADS: http://goodreads.com/PalomaBeck

PINTEREST: http://pinterest.com/PalomaBeck

CBLS Promo VBT: Freestyle Love by Marcus Lopes

Please welcome author Marcus Lopes to the Wickedly Sexy inner sanctum.

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Title: Freestyle Love

Author: Marcus Lopes

Publisher: Lazy Day Publishing

Length: 66,500 words

Genres: Contemporary Erotic Literary M/M Romance

 

Available at:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | ARe | Lazy Day Publishing:

Blurb:

When it comes to one-night stands, Malachi Bishop has “rules”. No pillow talk. No sleeping over. No planning a future hook-up. First names only. It’s just sex, not a prelude to love. But when Cole Malcolm, a smooth-talking management consultant, woos Malachi into bed, the rulebook is tossed out the window. The one-time fling leaves Cole reeling: Malachi is his first real shot at happiness, his “forever” man, and he’s determined to show Malachi just how good they could be together. But Malachi doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after, and dodges Cole’s play for his heart. After all, Malachi is still mourning the loss of Taylor Blanchard, whom he hoped to love forever. Then there’s Zach Brennan, a handsome twenty-five-year-old and student at the college where Malachi teaches. Falling for Zach could destroy everything he’s worked for, but Malachi can’t help himself.

Caught by love and in its betrayal, it’s a later affair with a beautiful stranger that changes Malachi’s life most dramatically. Now Malachi must confront his present and his past that bring into question the larger fantasies of home and his place in the world.

 

EXCERPT

Malachi, hunched forward over the dining room table reading the Globe and Mail, let out a sigh as he yawned, his mouth open wide revealing his uneven teeth. As he reached for his half-empty and lukewarm cup of coffee, he caught a glimpse of the hairy bronze cyclist’s legs in the archway of the dining room and sat back in his chair. He looked intently at the tall, lean figure standing before him, naked, with his arms folded across his chest. Of course, Malachi knew that they would have to confront each other at some point, but he was still nervous and, after a moment, glanced away.

The man stood with his legs spread slightly apart, like a model posing for a photo shoot. His eyes narrowed. “Do you mind…” His voice cracked and he bit down on his lower lip. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

Malachi said, “Oh, of course,” and stood, watching his guest unfold his arms and then run his hands through his dark bed hair that darted in a thousand directions, pushed back from his low brow.

They smiled thinly at each other, as if suddenly able to read the other’s thoughts, and uncertain about how to proceed. Malachi dropped his gaze and left the room to retrieve a towel and facecloth from the disorganized hall closet. He returned to the dining room and gawked at the handsome figure’s firm yet pale backside that he remembered, with a mixed sense of pleasure and dread, having had his face between for most of the night. Malachi cleared his throat.

The man spun around and took the linens from Malachi, and held them in front of his crotch, concealing his growing hard-on. He sidled his narrow blue eyes at Malachi and said, “It’s Cole… my name, that is, in case you’ve forgotten.” He took in Malachi’s blank stare, fully aware of its significance, and when there was no response shrugged and disappeared down the hallway towards the bedroom.

Marcus Lopes’ Tour Schedule:  http://cblspromotions.blogspot.com/2012/07/vbt-freestyle-love-by-marcus-lopes.html <–ENTER GIVEAWAY HERE

About the Author:

Marcus Lopés is originally from Lower Sackville, Nova Scotia. His writing has appeared in Canadian and international literary magazines. Freestyle Love is his first novel. A novelist, essayist, poet, painter and singer-songwriter, Lopés lives in Sherbrooke, Québec.

Website: www.marcuslopes.ca

Email: marcus@marcuslopes.ca

CBLS VBT Barrage: Accidental SEAL by Sharon Hamilton

Today WSW welcomes Sharon Hamilton and her awesome new read, Accidental SEAL.

~*~

Title: Accidental SEAL

Author: Sharon Hamilton

Publisher: Self

Length: 100,000 words

Genres: Contemporary Erotic Navy SEAL/Military Romance

 

Available at:

Amazon

Blurb:

Christy Nelson embarks on her new career in Real Estate by holding her first open house. Entering the wrong house, by accident, she finds the nude sleeping body of a young man.

Navy SEAL Kyle Lansdowne, on a mission to find his AWOL Team buddy, is staying at his buddy’s home while investigating the disappearance.  When someone breaks in, he takes protective measures. He doesn’t expect to find that a beautiful young woman is responsible for his teammate’s abduction.

What starts out as a meeting by accident becomes a hot affair neither one is ready for. Kyle is conflicted about getting Christy involved in his mission, but his hand is forced when he learns the same San Diego gang responsible for his teammate’s abduction has kidnapped her.

Battling a cadre of dirty law enforcements hell-bent on getting military equipment, especially state-of-the-art firepower, Kyle is forced to admit that he would die to protect her.

Excerpt:

Christy’s red Honda looked like a wet cherry lollipop, shined and polished to perfection. Cute and shiny on the outside, but hot and sweltering on the inside. Sitting in the cramped front seat, she stopped and squinted to make out house numbers, comparing them to the address Wayne had minutely scribbled on the back of his business card. Then she found it.

The house appeared nicer than he’d described. The advertised price, he said, was the lowest in the neighborhood, going back ten years. Hopefully she’d pick up a young couple out looking for their first home, complete with good credit and a wad of cash from Mommy and Daddy. Wouldn’t it be great to make a sale on her very first day on the job?

She parked in the driveway, popped the trunk, and brought out three sandwich signs with the Patterson Realty logo, on loan from Wayne. He was out with his family today. She hoped the Somervilles didn’t stop by since she’d feel uncomfortable looking into the eyes of Wayne’s wife, a woman he probably cheated on and would again, if he got the chance. One of Christy’s other rules: no married men. She wasn’t about to change that, either.

A perfumed late spring breeze blew softly against her face and neck, sending a thrill up her spine. The air ripened with possibility. This was her favorite time of year.

The walkway looked freshly swept. After placing one sign in the front yard, she stacked the other two beside the front door and inserted Wayne’s key. While the lock accepted the new shiny silver metal, the tumblers stayed in place, frozen.

Way to go Wayne. Waste my time and give me the wrong key!

Irritation bubbled, ruining her cheerful, spring-induced mood. She yanked on the front handle and pushed against it out of frustration. It opened.

“Anybody home?” Her voice wavered like that of a small child. She waited. No answer.

Christy stepped inside, onto a striped cotton rug lying cockeyed behind the front door. The smell of fried food hit her. She walked across the wooden floor of the living room, her stilettos clacking. She cracked open a window. Air scented by fresh blossoms poured in, diluting the smells of ordinary life. She grabbed the newspaper tossed on top of an ottoman and folded the crinkling pages under her arm, aiming for the kitchen to find a trashcan. She passed the dining room table, which was strewn with a map of the area, a couple of felt-tipped pens, and a letter-sized yellow lined tablet. She collected these items as well and made her way to the kitchen.

Christy threw the tablet and newspaper onto the tiled countertop and placed her hands on her hips to assess the scene before her. She squinted at several days’ worth of dishes piled high in the sink. Next to it, a large stainless steel bowl sat encrusted with dark green and purple leaves at the bottom, evidence of a salad—several days old.

Maybe Wayne had neglected to tell the sellers about the open house. She decided it was entirely possible. “How can you expect to sell a house this way?” she muttered, then sighed and removed her jacket, slinging it over the back of a clean-looking kitchen chair. She decided to take a tour of the place, checking for other things to clean or straighten before she’d be ready to hold it open.

But this house was such a mess, an uneasy darkness chilled her. She tiptoed down the carpeted hallway, feeling like an intruder, past empty rooms, to a closed door at the end.

Probably the master bedroom.

Something about the whole scene was strange. These people left without cleaning up dinner from several days before, in a hurry. She’d been told short sale houses rarely showed pride of ownership, but this felt absolutely creepy, like she’d stepped on someone’s grave. The hair at the back of her neck bristled as she gripped the doorknob. She lightly tapped with her other hand, and then opened the door.

A naked body lay on the bed.

Holy crap.

Hesitant to look at first, she pushed through her fear. She saw movement. Tanned skin, a muscular male chest that rose and fell. Earphones were wired to a phone balanced on his open palm. The man was very much alive, and healthy. Her eyes drifted further down to a dusting of dark brown hair that led to an impossible-to-miss erection. His penis stood at attention, like a deep rose-colored light standard under a matching fireman’s hat of deeper pink.

Blood pumped to her ears, making them ring, as her heart raced. A wave of anger coursed over her at the realization she had been the victim of a very sick joke perpetrated by Wayne and one of his disgusting friends.

Christy silently closed the door and tiptoed back down the carpeted hallway, her three-inch heels wobbling on the thick, padded surface. Her knees knocked against each other as she picked up speed, her anger building. She grabbed her jacket, keys, and purse, and crossed the living room, headed toward the front door. She was almost free.

Christy wouldn’t give the prankster the satisfaction of knowing she had even seen him. She wanted to stomp her foot and kick something through the window. This was Wayne’s doing.

That sonofabitch and his lopsided plugs will pay for this.

She pulled the door handle and was rewarded by the smells of a warm spring day bleeding through the inch-wide crack she’d created. An enormous hand and forearm came from behind her and slammed the door shut. She saw a familiar blue-green tattoo of some animal tracks on his muscled forearm just before his other hand gripped her mouth. Callused fingers pinched the sides of her cheeks. The grip hurt.

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**GIVEAWAY!! Comment below with your email address to receive a free short download from Sharon (In Kindle or Nook formats ONLY)**

 

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About the Author:

Sharon Hamilton loves all things paranormal: Angels, Dark Angels, Watchers, Guardians, Upogenie and Vampires. She also has developed a series of hot romantic suspense Navy SEAL stories. Her characters follow a spicy road to redemption through passion and true love—not exactly what they taught you in Sunday School!

Sharon is represented by agent Jill Marsal, and has finaled in several erotic, contemporary,  paranormal and single title contests over the past three years. She regularly participates in four RWA and California Writer chapters, and two blogs.

An avid organic vegetable and flower gardener, Sharon and her husband live in the Wine Country in Northern California, where most of her stories take place.

Website: http://www.sharonhamiltonauthor.com/

Blog: http://sharonhamiltonauthor.blogspot.com/

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

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/#!/sharonlhamilton

Follow Sharon on her TOUR–> http://cblspromotions.blogspot.com/2012/06/scheduled-barrage-accidental-seal-by.html

Who Gets A Copy…

Of Camelia Miron-Skiba’s A WORLD APART?

Hi guys, Av here. As always, your bearer of all news good. And sexy ;D

In addition to the name of the lucky winner of Camelia Miron Skiba’s wonderful read, you can rest assured I also brought along the WickedlySexy.

*Pregnant Pause for ogle of Man Flesh*

Dunno if you’re still up right after that there smexiness, but if you are, the winner is
comfort432

Congrats!! You’ll be getting an email from the author soon. In the meantime, luvs, you know what I always say: Don’t you move now, more things WickedlySexy will be along in no time