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Great Reviews Coming In for The Devil May Care!

THE DEVIL MAY CARE, winner of the 2012 Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award for BEST HISTORICAL ROMANCE is available for sale!! Grab it on Amazon!!

Here’s what early reviews are saying:

“I have been a romance reader for decades. Lately, the ballroom fluff and stuff has become so tedious. There’s no intrigue, no danger, no meat on the bone!! THIS book is quite the opposite! Sebastian and Rachel just sizzle off the page with tons of fulfilling plot twists and story/character depth. I couldn’t put it down. A true treat!”

“Lots of intrigue and passion but well-balanced against a time in history when everything was “more”. Can’t wait for book 2 in this series.”

“Well written love story that develops over time. The masterspy needs to teach an innocent governess how to act like a courtesan. Enormously sensual and detailed characters fight to uncover the French secrets for the British during the Napoleonic war.”

“I’ve been a major fan of Ms. Archer since her first book came out last June. She has an unbelievable way with words, crafts terrific characters that pull you into their world, and writes gripping, sexy stories that pulse with the connection between her main characters. And The Devil May Care is Lara Archer at the very top of her game! No wonder this book won the Golden Heart – that’s one cracker-jack opening. Even better, it fulfills that promise to the very last sentence. I absolutely adored Rachel’s intelligence and drive, and Sebastian is a terrific hero full of turmoil and deep feeling. I rooted for these two, loved to hate the villain(s), and was deeply drawn to several of her secondary characters. (I sure hope they get their own books!) Archer is an auto-buy for me, and I look forward to the next book she puts out. “

THE DEVIL MAY CARE Debuts March 24!! Pre-order now!!

LaraArcher_TheDevilMayCare_200I’m so thrilled to be bringing this book out into the world.

A few years ago, under my other, rather-less-steamy pen name, it won the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award for Best Historical Romance, and I couldn’t wait to get it into readers’ hands.

Something held me back, though: I loved the story as it was, but the story WANTED to be hotter…after all, it’s about an innocent governess who pretends to be a courtesan. This year, I finally decided I’d let loose with it and bring the heat that made it work for as a Lara Archer book. And I’m so excited about the way it turned out!!!

Pre-order now at Amazon!

Wanna know what it’s about?

When Rachel Covington’s twin sister Sarah is murdered, revenge requires making the killers believe Sarah’s still alive, so the sheltered governess must take on her twin’s double role as London’s most notorious courtesan and undercover English spy.

            Sarah’s former espionage partner, Sebastian Talbot, is assigned to train and protect Rachel, but he seems more interested in vexing her in every possible way. For Sebastian, the mission is a nightmare, a replay of his failure to save Sarah, but with a woman whose unfamiliar innocence threatens to slip past all the barriers of his cynical soul.

            Together, they must lure Sarah’s murderers into the open, distinguish loyal agents from traitors, and struggle to trust one another. The slightest misstep may mean Rachel’s death, so Sebastian must help her play her courtesan role convincingly, and that means awakening her long-buried sensuality—a process which threatens both their professional detachment and their surprisingly vulnerable hearts.  

Here’s an excerpt, from early in their partnership, when Sebastian first gives Rachel a taste of the power of pleasure:

The one practical thought that came to him involved Miss Covington’s gown. In accordance with Sal’s sophisticated style, it had been fashioned with the more subtle, softly luminous side of the silk showing outwards. That meant the glossier, slicker side turned in against the skin. It was a whore’s dress, worn without a shift and with minimal stays that lifted but did not cover the breasts. He smiled.

That fabric could be a most effective weapon, in the right hands.

His hands.

He pressed his palm against her breast, shifting it slightly and sliding his thumb so the glossy silk moved along with his stroke, over the taut nub of her nipple. She nearly fell forward into him. Her hands clawed upwards over his back, and gripped the muscles of his shoulders.

Hooking his index finger into her neckline, he kept up the stroking, pressure and silk, flicks and swirls, his other fingers kneading relentlessly, until her fingertips dug into his flesh. She swayed, leaning backwards, head thrown back. Still trailing kisses across her throat, he added his other hand to the subtle torture, claiming her other breast.

Though, blazes, at this point, he itched to tear the damn fabric away entirely, to get his palms against the silk of her flesh itself, and touch her everywhere…. He was hard as a steel rod now. He pressed himself against her, instinctively, alive with the need to lift her skirts and seek out the greater heat he knew he’d find there.

Almost without his conscious intent, his right hand slipped from her breast and skimmed down over her belly, to that enticing V at the very top of her long legs.

The silk slid freely under his hand, against her skin. She gasped, and then moaned again, louder. Her spine bowed, mashing her breasts against his chest. He let his hand play against her, at the joining of her thighs, just the slightest teasing pressure against her sensitive flesh, letting the silk do most of the work.

Chancing a glance at her face, he found her eyes tight closed, her lips open and ripe. Her skin was flushed, deliciously rosy. Her expression half pained, half blissful. On the cusp of new and exhilarating knowledge.

And he’d hardly begun with her yet.

Had no one ever touched her, truly? Never given her even this little taste of pleasure?

Good God, what fools she must have lived amongst.

Nice Girls Writing Naughty Splish-Splash Page Hop!! For National Bubble Bath Day!!

As part of the Page Hop, I’ll be giving away copies of my books BARED TO THE VISCOUNT and WILD AT HEART (print or e-copy, winner’s choice) plus a $25 gift card to Bed, Bath, and Beyond!

All you need to do to enter is read the excerpt below and leave a comment here at laraarcher.com! (Winners will be drawn on Sunday.)

Then be sure to jump to the next stop on the Page Hop (with a chance for lots more fun prizes!): LEELA LOU DAHLIN: https://www.facebook.com/LeelaLou2/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

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LaraArcher_WildAtHeart_web size new edit with burnIn WILD AT HEART, cinematographer Nick Turner has yearned for independent film director Amber Wakeling for years, but he absolutely forbids himself to touch her. Their work together is the one thing that makes this notorious Hollywood Bad Boy feel like he has a soul. He’s just not wired for commitment, and he won’t risk his artistic bond with Amber for a few nights of even the most mind-blowing sex.

A new shoot on Colorado’s beautiful Wild Mountain, though, strains Nick’s resolve to the breaking point. Somehow in this lush, unspoiled setting, the rules of civilized life don’t seem to apply. When normally straight-laced Amber makes a sudden move on him, Nick is lost to desire.

Here’s a quick excerpt from the opening of CHAPTER ONE:

Nick Turner found himself in a very familiar position: hiking uphill with heavy camera equipment strapped to his shoulders and earth crunching under his boots. And, of course, with his eyes glued to Amber Wakeling’s long, strong, suntanned legs eating up the trail ahead of him.

It was a sight Nick always enjoyed: the strides that showed Amber’s confident energy and zest for life, not to mention the way those legs of hers shot straight up to the swaying, gorgeous, heart-shaped curve of her ass.

He had a whole arsenal of fantasies to torture himself with as they sought whatever destination Amber had in mind for filming on any particular day—New Mexico desert or New York City dockyard, he could adapt for anything.

Today was especially potent, out here on a Colorado mountain, in the pine forest, alone. A perfect early summer day. Not a soul for miles.

No harm in imagination, right?

With a few long strides he could catch her, run his palms up those taut thighs, seize her around the waist and press his mouth into that sweet little space behind her ear. He’d have her breasts in his hands then, and he’d yank her t-shirt up and off. And then he could spin her around and back her up against a tree-trunk, or maybe just coax her to bend forward over a sun-warmed boulder.

He liked the idea of wrapping both her hands in one of his, drawing her arms taut over her head. His other hand would pop the button on her hiking shorts, drag down the zipper, slide the waistband past her hips. He’d yank up her shirt next, have her naked in seconds.

Maybe he’d take his time then, exploring her everywhere with his hands and mouth until she moaned and screamed his name. Or maybe he’d rip open his own button-fly, shove her thighs apart and thrust right into her until he was the one screaming. He’d slide his fingers to the joining of her legs, stroking the way he wanted to, the way he dreamed of, and they could scream together.

Hell. There wasn’t a camera bag big enough to hide the bulge that had started straining the front of his shorts.

But he’d just have to live with it. No harm in dreaming, but there was no way in hell he was actually going to do it.

Amber was his friend, damn it. Not to mention his work partner, in the best creative relationship of his life. Four indie films in four years, with serious Oscar buzz for the last two. For the first time in his life, he felt like the artist he was meant to be. If he messed that up, he might as well go back to plastic L.A. and waste his life shooting car chases.

He was not putting this relationship at risk.

Now Amber glanced back over her shoulder with a grin. “It’s not much more than half a mile from here,” she said, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling. “You gonna make it, cowboy?”

He grinned back. That kind of teasing had become a tradition, too, every time they scouted a challenging location. “Race you to the top!”

And then it was a burst of speed, a tangle of branches and leaves slapping at their bodies, their hips jostling one another as they fought for the lead along whatever narrow path they happened to be following. There were no rules. Her elbows jabbed playfully at his belly, his hands clutched at her ribcage to slow her down. A brief, delicious excuse to touch her.

They were both panting and laughing as they shot out from the woods into a wide, green meadow. It was like leaping into Eden. The sky was suddenly enormous after the canopy of the pines.

“Look at this place! Look! It’s perfect, Nick!” Amber cried, stretching out her arms and spinning as she looked up at the clouds.

He eased the heaviest of the camera bags off his shoulders and looked around. God, yes—it was perfect. Amber had such an instinct for these things. Once the actors arrived, they’d shoot the perfect love scene here: starting with a lush panoramic shot, sweeping around all this greenery, the mountains in the background, still capped with the last of the winter snow. The flowers were so vivid, people in the theaters would swear they could smell them.

“Can you imagine,” said Amber, her tanned arms still reaching for the sky, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Ruby Torres and Jay Hultensaalt here, starring in our movie? Just think of the sheer gorgeousness of that!” Her golden hair swept around her like sunshine, and the stretch of her arms lifted her breasts in a way that made Nick’s throat go dry.

“It’s already sheer gorgeousness,” Nick said, before he could stop himself. He hastily shifted his gaze off to the horizon. “The setting, I mean.”

Laughing, Amber reached down to pick a stalk of purple lupine, which she tucked behind her ear. She looked dazzling and adorable, a hippie princess. The dusting of freckles across her nose and the crinkles at the corners of her blue eyes—payment for spending so much of her life outside in the sun—only made her more beautiful. She couldn’t have been more tempting if she was trying to seduce him.

Which of course she wasn’t.

Unfortunately.

__________________________________________________

Read more at Amazon.com

Spoiler alert: Nick’s going to get his wish, but it’s going to be a lot more complicated (and a whole lot hotter) than he bargained for!

Remember to leave a comment below to be entered in the drawing for the book prizes and the $25 Bed, Bath, and Beyond gift certificate…and be sure to visit LEELA LOU DAHLIN next on the Page Hop: https://www.facebook.com/LeelaLou2/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

 

 

OOOH!!! Crazy good hot sexy stuff….for crazy cheap!!

Both my historical and contemporary erotic romances are JUST 99 CENTS from October 1 through Oct 10 as part of Zoey Derrick and Gillian Zane’s OCTOBER SPOOKTACULAR EVENT!!!

Grab them while you can…..

deal viscountBARED TO THE VISCOUNT

Poor, plain spinster Mary Wilkins has no business falling in love with Viscount Parkhurst. They may have been best friends in childhood, but he’s the wealthy, powerful lord of the manor now, and everyone knows he’s bound to marry a beautiful local heiress. Mary tries to resign herself to a life of hopeless yearning, but when she and the viscount find themselves entangled in a stand of wild blackberry vines, unexpected passions flare.

The viscount can’t seem to keep his hands off her. But is he planning to make her his wife—or only his secret mistress?

Buy on Amazon.

deal wildWILD AT HEART

Cinematographer Nick Turner has yearned for independent film director Amber Wakeling for years, but he absolutely forbids himself to touch her. Their work together is the one thing that makes this notorious Hollywood Bad Boy feel like he has a soul. He’s just not wired for commitment, and he won’t risk his artistic bond with Amber for a few nights of even the most mind-blowing sex.

A new shoot on Colorado’s beautiful Wild Mountain, though, strains Nick’s resolve to the breaking point. Somehow in this lush, unspoiled setting, the rules of civilized life don’t seem to apply. When normally straight-laced Amber makes a sudden move on him, Nick is lost to desire.

But will stepping off the safe path lead to heartbreak for both of them, or will Nick discover he’s capable of something he’s always thought impossible—real and lasting love?

Buy on Amazon.

SUPER SUMMER BLOW-OUT SALE!!!!

I have two books on sale for just 99 cents as part of Zoey Derrick’s SUMMER BLOW-OUT EVENT, which features lots of super-hot romances for $1.99 or less (some free), and also has a Rafflecopter giveaway for a $110 Amazon gift card!

zoeywildCinematographer Nick Turner has desperately wanted independent film director Amber Wakeling for years, but he won’t touch her. Their work together is the one thing that makes this notorious Hollywood Bad Boy feel like he has a soul. He’s just not wired for commitment, and he won’t risk his artistic bond with Amber for a few nights of even the most mind-blowing sex.

 A new shoot on Colorado’s beautiful Wild Mountain, though, strains Nick’s resolve to the breaking point. Somehow in this lush, unspoiled setting, the rules of civilized life don’t seem to apply. When normally straight-laced Amber makes a sudden move on him, Nick is lost to desire.

 But will stepping off the safe path lead to heartbreak for both of them, or will Nick discover he’s capable of something he’s always thought impossible—true and lasting love?

WILD AT HEART is available for pre-order on Amazon, and releases September 17!

***************************

zoeyViscountBARED TO THE VISCOUNT is available on Amazon, and is three dollars off its regular price through September 7.

Poor, plain spinster Mary Wilkins has no business falling in love with Viscount Parkhurst. They may have been best friends in childhood, but he’s the wealthy, powerful lord of the manor now, and everybody knows he’s bound to marry a beautiful local heiress. Mary tries to resign herself to a life of hopeless yearning, but when she and the viscount find themselves entangled in a stand of wild blackberry vines, unexpected passions flare.

The viscount can’t seem to keep his hands off her. But is he planning to make her his wife—or only his secret mistress?

It’s almost time to get Wild At Heart!!

LaraArcher_WildAtHeart_800pxWild at Heart, the first in my new series Walk on the Wild Side, is  available for pre-order on Amazon!! So I wanted to share 7 paragraphs from the first time Nick Turner and Amber Wakeling break the rules of their long-standing friendship and give in to desire. They’re visiting Wild Mountain National Park in Colorado for an independent film shoot, when Amber suddenly decides to let things get wild:

___________________________________________________________________________

She silenced him with a hand over his mouth, and then a quick press of her lips against his. Her lips felt like velvet, and tasted like strawberries. “Help me celebrate my new life, Nick,” she said insistently. “Remind me why it’s good to be free. That’s what you’re good at, aren’t you? Enjoying whatever comes your way?”

Her words stabbed. He didn’t want Amber thinking of him that way. Even if he was exactly that way—with other women. But Amber was the one who saw the better side of him, the artist in him. The soul in him.

“I don’t want to talk,” she said, and just like that, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up over her head. She stood before him in shorts and a pink lace bra, with pure invitation—and a heartbreaking look of insecurity—in her eyes.

Nick heaved a deep breath, and he was lost. A sheen of sweat made Amber’s breasts seem rounder and fuller than ever, and the dusky shadows of her nipples peaked through the pink lace of her bra. Her beautiful blonde hair shimmered across her shoulders, swaying lightly in the late spring breeze, stroking over her skin the way Nick’s fingers ached to. And then she reached around behind her and released the hooks; the bra slid to the grass, and he could see the rosy peaks of her nipples bare in the sunshine, looking like wildberries ripe for his mouth.

He couldn’t think straight anymore. He’d wanted this so damn long. In one swift move, he peeled off his own t-shirt and dropped it in the tall grass. Then with a lunge he had Amber in his arms, pressed tight up against him—her bare breasts against his chest, her belly warm and yielding against the surging of his cock. It was what he’d fantasized about for so many years, and so much better than his fantasy: her soft mouth crushed beneath his, his tongue probing against hers, her moans filling his ears, the silky skin of her back naked under his hands. And he could hardly decide where to touch her next, where to taste her.

Her hands went everywhere on him. She stroked his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen, making his muscles seem to swell and strain wherever she touched him. They fumbled with the buttons and zippers of one another’s shorts, hands trembling and clumsy and desperate in the need to get every barrier out of the way. He got her fly open, then made himself take his time easing the fabric away from her hips, feeling the soft silky swell of them, the utter femininity. He relished every inch of her curves as he slipped his thumbs beneath the elastic of her pink lace panties and tugged them loose. She gave a wriggle, and the last of her clothing slipped free, and she stepped out of them, utterly bare to him, utterly beautiful.

Their mouths were still mutually devouring, tongues playing, teeth giving little nips. Her fingers were inside his boxers now, and she’d filled her palm with his balls. He was groaning loud, thrusting against her. He didn’t care—there was no one around to hear them, and he felt as free and wild as any creature in these woods. He ran his hands down the mounds of her ass, gripping and kneading the firm, hot flesh. He had to get his mouth on other parts of her now, and tore his lips from hers. He fitted his mouth to one of her perfect breasts, and suckled her; the taste of her was sweet, the heat of her seemed to blast the top of his head off. She moaned and arched her back, offering him everything. He moved to the other breast, laving it, feeling as if he were worshipping a pagan goddess.

_______________________________________________________________________

Blurb for Wild at Heart…..

Cinematographer Nick Turner has lusted after independent film director Amber Wakeling for years, but he won’t touch her. Their work together is the one thing that makes this notorious Hollywood Bad Boy feel like he has a soul. He’s just not wired for commitment, and he won’t risk his artistic bond with Amber for a few nights of even the most mind-blowing sex.

A new shoot on Colorado’s beautiful Wild Mountain, though, strains Nick’s resolve to the breaking point. Somehow in this lush, unspoiled setting, the rules of civilized life don’t seem to apply. When normally straight-laced Amber makes a sudden move on him, Nick is lost to desire.

But will stepping off the safe path lead to heartbreak for both of them, or will Nick discover he’s capable of something he’s always thought impossible—true and lasting love?

 

RELEASE DAY IS HERE!!!

myedits_LaraArcher_BaredToTheViscount_2500px copyBARED TO THE VISCOUNT is up for sale at Amazon!!

At the moment, it’s at #64 in Regency historical fiction! AND it’s got it’s first review….which I just have to quote because this is so danged fun!!:

“I’m a sucker for terrific writing – something BARED TO THE VISCOUNT has in spades – so it’s no wonder that I absolutely loved reading this debut novel from Lara Archer. Her prose is gorgeous, her pace is effortless, and the story flows from one well-crafted scene to another. Archer’s grasp of history and language is superb, and she blends this with a sensual story of love, connection, and humor that had me alternating between aching for these characters, fanning myself after their encounters, and laughing and crying with them as they faced the obstacles that kept them apart. (Not to mention the terrific and hilarious subplot of the sexton and his widowed lover.) This story is richly satisfying on all levels, which is why I’m thrilled to learn from reading blog posts that have popped up in honor of her release day that Lara Archer has books two and three in the Rites of May series well underway. I’m especially thrilled to learn Archer has plans for her character Sam Brickey! Hubba, hubba — that’s going to be one steamy and wonderful read. So, yes, I will be first in line to snap up those books, and any other Ms. Archer publishes. Judging by her BARED TO THE VISCOUNT, she’s clearly going to be a star!”

Thank you, lovely reviewer, whoever you are!! MWAAAAAHHH!!!

Grab your copy, ladies and gents, but first join me over at the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood for my Release Day party!!!

 

 

BARED TO THE VISCOUNT is Almost Here!!!

Love Pride and Prejudice, but wish Jane Austen had given Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth some uber-hot sex scenes?

Me, too. So….here comes my new Rites of May series!!

Regency England is so very civilized, so proper, so bound by unbreakable rules. But Springtime has a certain pagan energy that loosens all restraints. The Rites of May has all the wit and passion of Regency romance, but with heroes and heroines making much better use of all those lush, private spots in the English countryside.

You’ll get to see Mr. Darcy…er, um, Viscount Parkhurst…strip off the linen shirt and breeches and show the heroine just how bewitching he finds her.

SMALLER edited_LaraArcher_BaredToTheViscount_2500px copyBook one, BARED TO THE VISCOUNT, comes out just ONE WEEK FROM TODAY!!!

Poor, plain spinster Mary Wilkins has no business falling in love with Viscount Parkhurst. They may have been best friends in childhood, but he’s the wealthy, powerful lord of the manor now, and everybody knows he’s bound to marry a beautiful local heiress.

Mary tries to resign herself to a life of hopeless yearning, but when she and the viscount find themselves entangled in a stand of wild blackberry vines, unexpected passions flare.

The viscount can’t seem to keep his hands off her. But is he planning to make her his wife—or only his secret mistress?

Ready for a sneak peek? Get out your silk fans, ladies, because it’s about to get hotter than a June ballroom in here.

Here’s a bit of what happens when the viscount and Mary get tangled in those blackberry vines:

Damn again.

His mouth was positioned just above where her nipple must be.

He writhed to free himself, but that just resulted in him rubbing his lips over the fabric hard enough that he thought he fancied he could feel the nub of that nipple harden to a peak.

He thought Mary might scream then, as well she should have.

But she didn’t scream.

Instead, she exhaled audibly, a long, low sigh.

And then she did something entirely remarkable: she took her left hand and cradled the side of his head, pushing it more firmly into that little, soft, sweet-scented mound of flesh.

“John,” she breathed, and this time her tone was very definitely sensuous—throaty and deep and needy—something he’d never in a million years have expected from his childhood friend. “Kiss me there, John. Please.”

He could not possibly have heard her right. “Mary?”

“Please, John,” she begged, and the nervous quaver in her voice told him more surely than anything that she was quite serious.

Her breathing was fast and shallow, and though he couldn’t lift his head to see her face, he fancied he felt the pleading force of her gaze upon him.

“Kiss me there,” she insisted, her fingers spearing into his hair, urging him closer. “If you don’t, no one ever will. And I want to know what it feels like, just once.”

“But—but, Mary—”

“Please!” Her voice broke on the word. “I won’t ask anything more of you, I swear it. Just this one thing.”

He was painfully conscious of how hard her pulse was beating—he was close enough to her chest to hear it. And his heart was pounding just as hard.

Not to mention that his cock was throbbing.

He tried again to move his head, but he wasn’t going anywhere, not without ripping out half his hair.

Trying to think, he drew a deep breath—and that sweet, womanly scent of Mary’s flesh filled his nostrils and fogged his already baffled brain.

Everything rational in him urged him to find some way to get his mouth away from her breast.

He intended to do that, truly. Immediately, in fact.

Without question.

Because he was a gentleman.

An all-but-affianced gentleman.

And yet what he found himself doing instead was hooking the fingers of his free hand into the neckline of Mary’s frock and chemise and pulling the drab layers of fabric down. Her flesh against his knuckles was warm and surprisingly fine and silken, and the moment he felt the tight nub of her nipple pop free, and he fitted his mouth over it hungrily. He gave it a flick with his tongue, then suckled her.

She moaned, and it was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard.

All she’d asked for was a kiss, but he had to give her more. He found himself wondering about the color of that nipple in his mouth. He couldn’t lift his head enough to see it properly, so he pulled the neck of her gown down beneath her other breast, and looked his fill sideways even as he continued sucking the first breast he’d bared.

Lord. Her skin where the sun never touched it was pearl-white, and her nipple was as pink as a rosebud.

And surely just as sweet.

If he could lift his head enough to see her face, and have incontrovertible evidence he was doing this with Mary Wilkins of all people, he would never be able to do it.

But all he could see was a graceful small swell of womanly flesh and a pretty pink teat, so he strained against the thorns that bound his hair, palmed that soft mound towards his mouth, and kissed it, just as she’d asked, before drawing the rosy peak between his lips.

She liked what he was doing, clearly. Her fingers were in his hair, at least where it was free of thorns, and urged him closer, nearly clawing him in her enthusiasm.

He licked and sucked and swirled his tongue, moving from one breast to the other and back again as best he could with his head pinioned, feasting on her, making her gasp, making her push her hips towards him.

His cock was hot and straining, and his balls had grown heavy as true stones. If he hadn’t had most of the left side of his body hooked by those damnable vines, he’d have done exactly as she seemed to be wanting and pulled her hips tight against his and pressed his throbbing erection into her belly.

Heat rose from between her breasts, with the subtle, intoxicating scent of arousal.

She was trembling now, still pulling his mouth against her and crying, “John, oh, John, please, John!”

Without another thought, his hand was at the buttons of his fall, fumbling to free his aching cock. No thinking was involved, just desperate, red-tinged visions of hiking up her skirts and finding her hot, wet slit, and somehow angling their bodies so he could push hard inside her.

Want to read more?

Pre-order now at: Amazon

Coming out June 23, 2015!!

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