Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Spotlight: Rescuing a Runaway Bride by Honey Jans

Rescuing a Runaway Bride
Honey Jans

Samantha Logan is a runaway bride. Jake Ramsey is a PI on a stakeout. When they meet in the dark after midnight all their formerly suppressed desires explode. Samantha so needs to prove her sexiness after finding her fiancée in the sack with another woman and Jake has wanted his bosses daughter for years. But will the fire burn out when she finds out he’s here to arrest her brother? To find out come along on the thrill ride as they battle her kinky ex-fiancée, espionage, and each other. Will Jake be able to rescue this runaway bride?

About the Author:
Honey Jans lives in a small Midwestern town with her husband and true inspiration. She is a born romantic with an extraordinarily vivid, yet kinky, imagination.   Honey loves writing erotica and hopes that her stories add a little spice to her readers lives.

Samantha Logan parked her car in front of her family’s dilapidated summer cabin in the north woods of Wisconsin and let out a demoralized sigh. Chicago’s morning newspapers would expose the entire disaster, complete with the glaring caption ‘Runaway Bride’. What they wouldn’t say was that after she caught the rat bastard with another woman Grayson St. James had freaked out so much he’d damned near killed her. It was an accident she kept telling herself but she wasn’t taking any chances by sticking around to hear his feeble apologies.
                She’d gone to his condo needing to know if they were sexually compatible. The answer hell no, made her lips curve in a rueful smile as she remembered him grunting and sweating over some naked blonde bimbo who was going down on him. The fact he wanted sex wasn’t the shocker. The fact he didn’t want it with semi-virgin her was a huge wake-up call. This time around she’d choose a lover more carefully. What she needed was a teacher, some ideal hunk who’d teach her all about sex. And being academically minded she’d already mentally compiled a list of qualities her erotic arts instructor would need. The first being completely honest, she wouldn’t settle for anything less. The second being able to make her toes curl as she came. But first she was going to hole up here until the furor died down. In retrospect she realized Grayson’s betrayal had probably been just the boot in the butt she needed to shake her out of her safe little workaholic life.
                With that thought in mind she climbed out of her almost paid off clunker and walked up the rutted path to her hideout. If she were in luck the key would be in the old hiding place on the ledge above the door. Reaching up on tiptoe she smiled when her fingertips encountered cold metal. Great, things were finally going her way.
                Steadying her shaking hands, she stuck the key in the lock, and tried her damndest to turn it. The darned thing wouldn’t turn. It was probably rusted shut. Just her rotten luck. Good and mad now she rattled the rusty lock trying to force it.
                Then suddenly the door jerked open taking her with it as she fell into the dark cabin. Crashing to the floor she let out a gasp when some linebacker-sized guy jumped on her taking her down in a rolling tackle that left her flat on her back under him. What the fuck, have I stumbled across a squatter? Because there is no way Grayson or my father and his private dicks could know I’m here.
                Trying to suck in air she futilely kicked out at him giving him her best mixed martial arts moves learned during a free crash course due to her new contract with Max’s Dojo. And groaned in frustration when she couldn’t even land a decent punch as he blocked her every move with the stealth of a ninja. Then he captured her wrists in one brawny hand as he began running the other down her struggling body. Just then she finally drew in enough air into her starved lungs to scream realizing too late he smelled hauntingly familiar. It couldn’t be?her luck couldn’t be all bad.

                He froze on top of her, if possible, pinning her harder to the floor and she heard him bite back a curse…a slightly southern totally snarky curse and wanted to die. It was. Oh dear heavens her nemesis and teenage wet dream Jake Ramsey.
                “Stop your goddamned caterwauling, brat,” he bit out.
                Her breath caught in her throat as his oh-so rugged body pressed intimately against hers, the steely brand of his cock damned near burning her sex through her panties. Damn she had to say she wanted to hire a sex instructor. Jake Ramsey was sex on a stick and his big work-roughened hand still cupping her quivering breast made her burn. On cue her nipple budded wantonly against his hot rough palm as a heat wave swept through her.
                On top of her he sucked in a breath, his hand tightening on her breast and she thought she was going to die of bliss. Then he went absolutely still muttering what sounded like a curse and she wanted to cry. Great she’d shocked him…again. This was the part where he let her go and gave her the lecture for improper young ladies which had been his job way back when he first came to work for her father as part of Logan Industries Security Force. At least the dark would save her the humiliation of him seeing her blush.
                Then the lights snapped on and she groaned. What did he do, install a timer? It’d be easy for the thug who now headed her dad’s security team. She gazed up at him needing to know if he’d changed in the seven years she’d been away, since he’d run her off really. She’d hightailed it for college early after he’d rejected her advances and hadn’t looked back until now.
                His gray eyes were still hard and watchful, but they softened a bit as he looked down at her turning into a molten silver glow that took her breath away. There was something decidedly dangerous about the former soldier turned Logan Industries Security Chief. Unfortunately looking at her would no doubt cool his ardor. He hadn’t wanted her when she was eighteen why should now be any different? She didn’t fool herself that she was a great beauty. Her curves were too generous and her sassy independence turned off most men. But instead of his hard-on shrinking it grew against her making her gasp with surprise.
                Instinctively she pressed against him pushing her luck. Then he rubbed his thumb over her hard nipple and she trembled, a moan pouring out of her throat. Since when did he want her? Or was this some new interrogation technique? A good cop, sexy bad cop thing designed to drive her nuts?
                “What’s the matter, sugar? St. James not so good in the sack?” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
                What was the question? She looked up at him with lust-fogged eyes. Oh yeah, is Grayson a flop in the sack? She never found out but she wasn’t about to admit it to the hunk. “None of your dang business, goon.”
                “Answer me or I’ll take your sexy ass over my knee,” he growled.
                Her toes curled at the huskily voiced threat even as her bottom heated up. Did he really think she had a sexy ass? She’d been reading erotic romances telling herself she was getting ready for her marriage. Now she knew different, she’d been getting ready for her sex instructor. Jake Ramsey disreputable as he was might make the perfect erotica one-o-one teacher. “Really?” she asked, knowing she sounded more hopeful than she should.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Spotlight & Giveaway: Panic Button by Gilbert M. Stack

Panic Button: Lighthouse Island
Gilbert M. Stack

When Angie Specter won a slot on the Reality TV show, Panic Button: Lighthouse Island, she promised herself she wasn't going to be involved in a showmance. She’s a serious contestant and wants that $250,000 prize. Showmance contestants are weak and foolish, and Angie has no intention of being used by some handsome guy.
That is, until she meets Hank. Not only is Hank Cross very handsome, he's as strong and capable as Angie. When the show's crazy host begins using terror to drive contestants off the island, Angie and Hank quickly figure out that if they don't help each other, they may not live long enough to push their Panic Button.

About the Author:
Gilbert M. Stack has been creating stories almost since he began speaking and publishing fiction and non-fiction since 2006. A professional historian, Gilbert delights in bringing the past to life in his fiction, depicting characters who are both true to their time and empathetic with modern sensibilities. His work has appeared in several issues of Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine and is also offered at Red Rose Publishing. He lives in New Jersey with his wonderful wife, Michelle, and their beloved son, Michael.

For a chance to win a PDF version of this book leave a comment on this post before midnight on the 21st of July with your name, email address and a story about a time you had wished you had a panic button. Winner will be chosen using

At the bottom of the stairs he turned to look at them and grinned. “Are you coming?” he asked.
Hank was the first to step forward and follow him down the stairs.
“It’s funny, but he’s actually got me nervous about going down there,” Ronnie confided in a hushed whisper.
“It’s just a cellar, right?” Angie said.
“Sure,” Ronnie whispered back. “It’s just a dark and lonely cellar, probably covered with critters—rats and bugs and—”
“Shut up!” Heather snapped before hugging herself. “I hate spiders!”
“I’m waiting!” the Keeper told them.
      Angie stepped forward after Hank thinking that—sexist stereotyping or not—it would have been nice if Rook, the other big strong man, had volunteered to take the lead with Hank.
The cellar smelled dank and moldy and it was definitely far too dark with only the one lantern eliminating its very weak light. She moved closer to the Keeper so she could see better. “Can you make the light in that lantern brighter?” she asked. “I can hardly see anything down here.”
The Keeper smiled and Angie immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Of course, not being able to see was part of the atmosphere he was trying to create.
Hank put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and Angie instinctively moved closer to him. His hand slid around her back and pulled her slightly closer yet. It felt good to have that little extra assurance that she wasn’t alone down here.
The Keeper waited, apparently patiently, while the other contestants filed down the stairs. When they finished congregating, he started to speak again. “This is John Lamb’s cellar. When he was alive and in control of this Residence, I’m quite certain that it was packed with supplies and perhaps some of the items he’d scavenged from the wrecks of ships. Unfortunately, the British took everything he had after they murdered the man.”
He angrily shook his head from side to side, then looked up and smiled most unpleasantly. “Well, almost everything I should say.”
He stepped away from Angie and Hank to stand in front of Rook, staring closely at him for several seconds before moving on to Ginny. “Can you imagine what they left behind, Miss Freeze?”
Ginny looked far more frightened than any of the rest of them, and all she could do by way of a response was to jerk her head from side to side.
The Keeper moved on, stopping in front of Ronnie. “In 1752, four years after John Lamb first took up residence on this island, the slave ship, Madrigal, was breached on those evil shoals out there. Somehow—and I really don’t know how it happened since all of the slaves should have been chained in the hold of the vessel—two of those savages actually survived the wreck to wash up on the shores of this island. Lamb captured them, of course, and sold them to a friend in Charleston for a very tidy profit.”
He stopped talking and tried to stare Ronnie down, but she glared back at him so ferociously that he decided to move on to the professor. “But the incident made the first Keeper think about the future. He was alone on the island with only his servants, his wife and his young daughters.
“What if there had been six savages instead of two? What if they were more physically recovered when he had discovered them?  What if they hadn’t been broken by their journey in the dark holds of the slave ship? What if they had tried to harm him or his little girls? Lamb decided that it would be prudent to use some of his profit on the savages to make preparations in case he should be blessed with a similar bounty in the future.”
Tobias’s face clearly showed his revulsion at the story, which made the Keeper almost cackle with glee. He stepped away from the professor and went to the nearest wall where Angie could now see a pair of two foot chains had been affixed to the stone floor about two and a half feet apart. At the end of each chain was an ugly iron manacle.
“Oh no,” Ronnie whispered. In the deathly silence of the cellar she might as well have shouted the words.
The Keeper looked in her direction. The lamp wasn’t bright enough to illuminate her clearly, but he could obviously make out her shadowy shape. “Unfortunately, the sea can be a most stingy lover and she didn’t gift Keeper Lamb with any more slaves.” He sighed and shook his head as if this were truly a terrible thing. Then he knelt down beside the chains and picked up one of the manacles. It was a large, ugly, barbaric piece of steel.
“They were quite expensive, you know. They have locks actually built into them. They were made in London and shipped here to help the king’s governor with his constabulary duties, but then items always have a way of going missing from government inventories, don’t they?
“But they remained down here with the rats and mice and no new savages came to require their services. But Keeper Lamb was an enterprising sort of man—gifted in finding uses for all of his resources. And it occurred to him one day when he was beating one of his daughters that this was a much better way to discipline the girl than sending her to her bedroom.”

Sunday, 15 July 2012

I would love it if you'd vote for me!

My story 'Fall In Love' is up for Best First chapter and Best cover for the
month of June at D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters blog.

You can visit the link below to vote.

Visit the blog :

Thanks in advance if you do vote for my story.


Saturday, 14 July 2012

Spotlight: Tropical Cougar by Tamaria Soana

Will one night with an older woman change everything?

After finding the love of his life in bed with someone else, twenty-six-year-old Seth Reynolds wanted a fresh start and found it in Jamaica. Being a bartender at one of the island's exclusive resorts has its perks...not the least of them being a very sexy, older woman: Sylvia Radcliff. While she's determined to celebrate her forty-fifth birthday, Seth is equally determined to seduce the most enchanting woman he’s ever met.

Tropical Cougar is an Amazon Exclusive from Ruby Lioness Press
Amazon Buy Link

Excerpt :

Seth woke to the smell of eggs and coffee. Sylvia had ordered them breakfast.
"Get up, sleepyhead, breakfast is here," she said, crawling up his naked body.
"I would rather have you for breakfast, but you have a robe on."
"I couldn't answer the door naked, could I?"
"No, I guess not," he whispered, reaching to tug on the belt of her robe.
"The food will get cold," she replied as she playfully pushed him away.
Seth let out a laugh. "I don't care. I just need a taste. I'll make it quick; just trust me," he said as he hovered over her. He looked into her blue eyes and smiled when she nodded, giving him all the incentive he needed. He leaned down and kissed her lips before traveling down her body. He took each nipple in his mouth and sucked hard before he pushed her legs apart, and his tongue found heaven "Mmmm, you taste so sweet." He moaned into her warm flesh.

Tamaria Soana is middle aged, but just feels like her life has begun. She resides in Western New York. Cuddling up with a good book under an electric throw has always been her way to escape the cold Buffalo nights. Growing up she always loved to write, mainly short stories and poetry. She's married with two beautiful young girls and one very spoiled lab mix.

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