In comments, and in 300 words or less, give us a snippet from your novel that describes what your heroes, heroines, or bit players are wearing. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!
Monday, February 10, 2014
Wash Line Monday
In comments, and in 300 words or less, give us a snippet from your novel that describes what your heroes, heroines, or bit players are wearing. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!
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Thank you for the opportunity to share an excerpt from TO LOVE AND OBEY (THE DOMS OF CLUB MYSTIQUE). www.bookstrand.com/to-love-and-obey or at Amason.com (type in Mardi Maxwell To Love and Obey in search box)
Two weeks later Addison examined herself in the mirror in
Jenna’s spare room. The dark lavender, four-inch open-toe stilettos
on her feet made her legs look long and sleek. The sheer lavender
miniskirt she wore stopped only an inch or so below the bottom of
her butt cheeks, and when she spread her legs it rode up. Cheeks rosy with embarrassment, she couldn't help but admire the white custom-made corset she wore. It cinched in her waist, giving her an hourglass figure and leaving a tempting amount of cleavage on display.
Running her fingers over the tops of her breasts, she gave herself goose bumps and felt her nipples harden. Damn. For once I look really, really hot. She smiled as she wondered if Cade would approve of the new person she was becoming.
Turning, then bending over, she glanced over her shoulder into the mirror. The skirt rode up, revealing the beginning curve of her butt. She bent over a little more and was glad Mark had given her
permission to wear a thong even if it was so sheer it didn’t really
cover anything. Blushing, she grabbed her makeup bag and applied a smoky lavender shadow to her eyes then a light layer of waterproof mascara. A swipe of sheer, rosy gloss completed her makeup, and she brushed her hair, then formed a ponytail at the nape of her neck and secured it with a white silk ribbon.
This is from my Regency novel, Midwinter Masquerade by Romy Gemmell - thanks, Rose!
Annabelle dared to put her whole weight on the ankle while getting dressed and was delighted to feel very little pain. The swelling had decreased to leave her ankle its normal size and she had great hopes of managing more than one dance since both Freddy and Mr. Ellingham had promised to stand up with her.
She chose a gown in the latest fashion brought from one of the most exclusive London dressmakers. Since the war with France had come to an end the previous year, their own styles had become even more influenced by the latest designs from Paris. A pale rose colour rather than white, the low neckline gathered beneath her bosom to show a greater expanse of flesh than usual. She particularly liked the two layers of tiny embroidered roses around the hemline and the rose satin ribbon that clever Mrs. Leighton had entwined in her hair.
Available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00G4DNG7G
http://ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com
This is from 'Fly or Fall'. Nell is new to the area, and a very new acquaintance, Felicity, has brought her to meet Katherine. The get-together is in the morning, so Nell expects coffee.
Katherine’s hair was a sleek tawny blonde, which hung thick and gleaming to her jaw; her make-up was immaculate but discreet. The lines of her figure were long and smoothly modelled; she moved with the suppleness and grace of the very fit – at ease in her Jaeger casuals, in her ‘Homes & Gardens’ house. The realisation that she was not particularly good-looking was delayed, coming almost as a surprise. She certainly had none of the obvious prettiness of Felicity Jackson.
I wondered why these women were such close friends – on the face of it they seemed very different. Physically, Felicity was shorter, more delicately boned than Kate, and her elaborately made-up face was haloed by a stiff web of highlighted curls. She was also younger and more extrovert in dress and personality. An expression of my mother’s popped into my head. A working class woman herself, Beryl had strong views about respectability. She’d have characterised Felicity as a bit flashy, and probably no better than she ought to be; while Katherine had class – there was no other word for it, even in my lexicon; she offered us wine when anyone else would have offered coffee. In the face of all this sophistication, and as a complete stranger to her elegant home, the flippant tone of the conversation jangled. And with nothing whatsoever to contribute I felt trapped in the unwilling role of voyeur.
smarturl.it/FLYorFALL
Loving Leonardo by Rose Anderson
My snippet today concerns two handsome men in the mirror.
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004XDGWL6
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I answered the knock at the door. It was Luca looking quite finely dressed in black with an ascot that exactly matched the blue of his snow-shadow eyes. I had nothing so fine with me, so wore clothes borrowed from Luca’s wardrobe. It was a close enough fit for all he was broader than I. The color was such in the green brocade waistcoat that wearing it turned my hazel eyes green enough for Ellie to comment about “the magic of it.”
Showing a black silk ascot in his hand, Luca motioned for me to turn around and face the mirror. I watched him tie it around my neck. Lord he was a handsome fellow. All my years of art study had done much to teach me to read emotional distinction. There was something around his eyes, slight, but there. Perhaps because he felt Conte Bruno was a dangerous man. He seemed worried and determined not to let us see it.
When the neckpiece was properly done, he helped me into the black morning coat before kissing my cheek. His eyes met mine in the glass and I felt his breath hot at my ear. “You’re a most beautiful man, mi amore.” Suspecting dressing me in the mirror had done for him what it had done for me, I reached behind and caressed the bulge. With that he pressed himself against me. The simple act brought about that flutter in my belly again. For an instant, the worry around his eyes disappeared.
………………………………………..
Sample this story and more for FREE https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/333971
Visit my main blog for updates and more. I’m currently running a symbol series
http://calliopeswritingtablet.com/
From the Brides of Black Mountain:
Shiloh gave up. She dropped the wrench and turned to glare at the unhelpful commentator. Her mouth dropped open when she recognized country music superstar Dillon Travers. Handsome beyond words with cynical green eyes peering at her from under the brim of a black Stetson. Full lips curved into a half smile. A jade colored shirt with pearl snaps and snug Wranglers screamed sexy. His low heeled cowboy boots somehow made his legs look longer than they probably were.
http://tinyurl.com/l9cssek
VENETIAN MASKS- my snippet today is the wedding dress for the character Charlotte in this contemporary romance story set in Venice, Italy. http://www.bookstrand.com/venetian-masks
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The trip to Milan was a success. Charlotte and Guilia went in Vincente’s helicopter armed with the names of several women who were in charge of couture houses. Each of them had agreed to place a rush job on any dress Charlotte chose. It wasn’t necessary as she found the ideal dress at the second shop. It had a sweetheart neckline and a beaded bodice that clung to her breasts and emphasized her waist. The skirt had multiple layers of chiffon. It was tea length and she chose a pair of deep yellow high-heeled shoes to wear with it.
Sunday morning came almost too fast for Charlotte. She was excited to marry Vincente and make a family with him and Luca, but she was also a little nervous. She’d met a few of Vincente’s relatives but worried about the whole mob of them descending on the house and speaking Italian at her. They all seemed to talk a lot and very fast. She didn’t know how she’d cope.
She stood in front of the mirror and slathered on some lipstick. She ran her finger along the edge of her bottom lip where she’d gone a little out of the line. She pulled a tissue out of the box to wipe her hand. “Guilia, are you almost ready?”
“I am. I need a zip.” Guilia came to stand beside Charlotte.
Charlotte turned to her friend. “Spin around.”
This is from book 5 of the Dream Series, "Waking Dream". My heroine is shopping for something to wear to the New Year's Eve party hosted by her husband's supervisor...
On a whim, I ask Grace if she wants to come help me. “Shopping for clothes? Duh, of course I’ll go,” she says. I suspect she thinks she can talk me into buying something for her while we’re out. I also suspect she’s right.
Once we’re at Nordstrom’s, Grace keeps trying to steer me towards dresses that are entirely inappropriate. They’re either cut too low, too tight or too short. She picks out one in particular that I physically shudder at when I imagine it on me. “Come on, Grace! Not even Gretchen would wear that!”
Oops. It just slipped out. I know I’m beet red, and Grace is staring at me, waiting for an explanation. “Who’s Gretchen?”
“I’ll explain when we get home,” I say with a deep sigh. I have to tell it now, don’t I? “You need to see the pictures to really appreciate the story.” But before that, I still need a dress. We finally reach a compromise. The dress is strapless and bright red, almost scarlet. It goes just past my knees, and has just enough of a neckline to show off my emerald.
And maybe I won’t be the only one at the party in a red dress. Maybe she’ll be there. Maybe the sight of me wearing the outfit she’s always got on in her dreams will put a scare into her. It’s worth a shot. Besides, after I try it on, I have to admit, the dress does look pretty good on me.
The book is at: http://getBook.at/WakingDream
Thank you greatly for this opportunity!
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From my paranormal romance:
Shadows of the Past
Carmen Stefanescu
The moon's pale face, the only light, filtered through a small gap in the tent's entrance; yet the stranger's whole body emanated a kind of soft ray, a yellowish halo making her figure and face easy to discern.
A long, dark robe, similar to those worn by nuns in monasteries centuries ago, covered her body. No traditional headdress covered the woman's red hair, which fell loosely over her shoulders in long, heavy tendrils and continued down her chest and back.
Anne stood up and studied the intruder with open curiosity. The stranger’s wax pale face looked corpse like. Anne opened her mouth to ask her who she was. She looked Anne straight in the eyes, placed her forefinger on her lips and whispered, "Hush, come. Follow me."
Anne's eyes widened.
The woman, moving away from the sleeping bag, appeared to glide above the ground. Her bare feet didn't make a sound.
As if hypnotized, Anne followed the illuminated silhouette heading into the forest, without questioning her own actions.
Buy Link: Wild Child Publishing
http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=84&products_id=410
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-of-the-Past-ebook/dp/B00AK2D9I8/ref=sr_1_15?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1354874514&sr=1-15&keywords=shadows+of+the+past
From ASK ME AGAIN a sweet but sexy Valentine reunion romance.
With a slight smile, she levered the box lid free and pushed back the tissue paper. Inside lay a beautiful, winter-white, wool suit along with a pink and red print blouse.
He rubbed the fabric of the blouse between his fingers, testing the texture. "This is silk."
"Certainly is. I took your advice and splurged. Cost you a bundle, too." She giggled.
"It's beautiful. But really, Torrey, I know how frugal you are. How much did you spend?" The designer label made his stomach clench. He didn't care how much the suit cost, but his curiosity was killing him.
"I saw it over a month ago and fell in love with it then. I crossed my fingers that the store still had it in stock." She reached in her purse, pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
The name of her favorite thrift shop headed the receipt. He scanned to the bottom where printed in bold the total tallied to $57.90.
"Good grief, woman. You've completely broken the bank."
"I know," she snickered. "It's the most I've ever spent on an outfit."
Laughing, she barreled into his arms and he held her tight. He whispered in her ear, "What am I going to do with you?"
"Keep me."
http://amzn.com/B007D58M5K
An excerpt from A HEAT OF THE MOMENT THING, a spicy romantic comedy by Maggie Le Page.
Matt approached the front door. Dry-mouthed, I took one last look in the mirror, decided it was too late for plastic surgery, and headed downstairs.
The doorbell rang, and Jim’s voice carried from the living room. “Check him out. Oo-ooh-wee!”
I cringed. “Jim . . .”
Ignoring the urge to run, I pasted a smile on my face and opened the door. My already-short breath disappeared altogether. Hot damn. Leather-clad biker Matt was way, way better than jean-clad boss Matt. This version was even better than bare-skinned swimmer Matt.
“Hey you,” he said.
“Hey you,” I repeated, with amoeba-like repartee.
He leaned against the doorjamb, all black-panthered power. “Ready?”
I nodded.
“You have a scarf?”
I hooked a thumb through the woollen folds. “Yes.”
“Good. You’ll need it.”
Through the wall, Jim’s falsetto rang out. “Is that a box of condoms in your pocket or are you jus—”
I shoved Matt down the steps ahead of me, and slammed the door behind us.
He looked at me, chuckled. “Steady on, Tiger. There’s no rush.”
“Sorry.” I wasn’t, not one bit. If he’d heard Jim’s condom comment I’d just die.
http://amzn.com/B00BUCJV70
*Content below is for mature readers only*
I am a ManLove erotic romance author for Siren-Bookstrand. My books explore the lives of gay men in real situations of life and love.
This excerpt is from Rock Hard, my latest release. The book is the first in the Rock Stars series. Rock Hard is a ManLove erotic romance.
"As odd as he knew it was, just the fact that Deuce had made negative comments about his sexual preferences made his dick stiff as he had put on the red satin gown in defiance. By the time he started to apply the black liquid eyeliner and red lipstick, his cock was leaking, and the juice ran down his leg. Black fish next stockings were held in place by a red bustier with garter straps, all of which he had worn to bed. Well, all but the black patent leather peep toe heels that were kicked off nearby."
Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/rock-hard-kinley
Website: http://akkinley.com/
Blog: http://akkinley.com/blog/
E-mail: authorakkinley@gmail.com
This is from my debut novel, now not available for sale but maybe soon, Ancient Ties.
“Step inside, my dear girl.”
How odd. The sensuously potent female voice danced through Janney Forrester’s mind.
“Your destiny awaits.”
“That’s just cheesy,” she muttered aloud. “What in the world…”
She shifted her eyes suspiciously from side to side. “It was in ruins a minute ago. How can this be?” She held her breath, blinking, wondering if she was losing her mind. How was it possible that now there was a fountain bubbling musically, the mosaic floor was intact and ablaze with vivid colors? The walls, too, were rich with cleverly painted scenes of men and women, or gods and goddesses, she didn’t know which. It was amazingly beautiful. Strange. Captivating. But she was really starting to freak out.
“This is crazy.” With a strangled gasp, she turned around. “What the hell is going on?” A wooden door filled the portal. “I didn’t come through a door.” Unbelieving, pressing shaking fingers to the center of her forehead, she turned back to the room. Her scalp prickled. Disoriented, she struggled to make sense of things, and fought to fill her lungs with air. Tried to calm her racing heart. She heard voices over the burbling fountain, but couldn’t catch the words. Her gaze flew to the other end of the room, and she froze stock-still as a man appeared in a doorway. Broad shoulders filled the frame. He wore what looked like a tunic. She’d seen enough gladiator movies to recognize it. Strapped, lace-up sandals wrapped his large feet. She gaped, pressing her lips together.
Are they making a movie? There hadn’t been any trucks or people outside, but how else to explain this man?
My God, he’s as stunning as a movie star.
From head to toe, he was all man. Short dark hair salted with strands of silver, broad cheekbones, and a masculine, square chin with a delicious cleft. Then there were the lips. She bit her own. How would those firm, full lips feel skimming across her body? She angled her head. Hot, she felt hot. And sweaty. What am I thinking? Thank goodness, he hasn’t seen me yet. It would be too embarrassing to be caught drooling.
The man’s wrist was draped casually over the hilt of a sword. He’s armed! A copper and silver belt hung around his hips, the sword on the left side and a dagger in an enameled sheath on the other. Before she could even think what to do or say, his gaze met hers. She tried to turn away, but his dark chocolate eyes held her enthralled. She should be afraid. A stranger with a sword stared back at her. She opened her mouth intending to say hello, but his eyes narrowed in breath-stealing suspicion as he mumbled unintelligibly.
“Marek, who is it?”
She had no idea what he said, but she understood the woman behind him. His name is Marek.
From 'Carnevale', a gay erotic romance set in Venice at the end of the eighteenth century:
The colour in Perry’s cheeks blazed as he retreated behind the curtain. When he emerged again, his new mask in place and more of his face revealed, Jack found to his pleasure that he had been right about the man’s attractiveness. To go with his strong jawline and straight nose, there was the suggestion of high cheekbones brushed by the bottom of the mask. And here, in the light from several candles, it could be clearly seen that his eyes were hazel and his hair, unpowdered after the recent fashion and tied back with a riband, was fair.
“Your hat and domino, Perry,” he said. He watched as Perry fumbled slightly with the unfamiliar fastening of the cloak before passing it, along with his hat, to the footman.
“You will find it to your advantage to remove your coat also,” he said, and Perry stared at him, his mouth very slightly open in surprise. That too was a most delightful sight, and Jack could not help but wonder how his full lips would feel against Jack’s and just how readily his mouth would open for Jack’s tongue.
“You are no longer in England,” he reminded Perry, who was so evidently shocked at the suggestion of being seen in shirtsleeves in public.
And then Jack had to bite his lip hard, for Perry nodded sharply once, as if in agreement, and took off his coat. Such obedience and willingness to follow Jack’s orders, despite their strangeness, augured very well indeed. As did the figure that was revealed when Perry took his coat off, passing it to the hovering footman, who took it with a very low bow. Evidently Jack was not the only one pleased by what lay beneath Perry’s coat.
http://www.bookstrand.com/carnevale
This is from chapter one of Stolen Desire - erotic paranormal - March 11 - Samhain - available for preorder.
A key turned, and the door swung inward.
The sound galvanized her. Blindly, she brought down the holder and hit the knob rather than the man. The metal ting drowned out her gasp.
She’d expected a troll. Even through her panic, Paige could see this guy was possibly in his early thirties, tall, with olive skin and black hair combed away from his forehead. Dressed in what seemed to be camouflage gear, he was surprisingly good-looking and seemed sane, though troubled.
Why? Was he a member of a SWAT team sent to save her? Did the operation tank and now he was a prisoner too? If so, how in the hell had he escaped his room to come into hers?
Wait a sec. This wasn’t her room. She wanted out of here.
Before she could flee, he took the candleholder from her all too easily, closed the door and put his forefinger to his lips, indicating she needed to be quiet.
The sounds she’d repressed earlier poured from her now.
“Don’t make any noise,” he whispered, “or the others will come.”
Others? There was more than one maniac to worry about? What about him? His thick accent sounded Greek or Middle-Eastern. Even if he did look really good, Paige didn’t know him.
“Who are—”
“Who I am doesn’t matter.”
The hell it didn’t. “Why are you here?”
“Do you want to go home?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? Of course, I do.” Big freaking time.
“Then you’ll have to trust me.” He offered her his hand.
For the first few seconds, she couldn’t move. And then she realized she could either go with him or stay here and wait for the unknown maniac. They couldn’t be one in the same.
Paige forced herself to take his hand. His palm felt dry, nicely warm. Gently, he curled his fingers around hers. Hardly the touch of a lunatic.
“I’ll do all I can to bring you back to E1,” he said.
“What? Where?”
Available for preorder from:
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/stolen-desire-p-73254.html
http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Desire-Outlawed-Realm-Donahue-ebook/dp/B00GN98BW6
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stolen-desire-tina-donahue/1117398265?ean=9781619220805 - See more at: http://www.tinadonahue.com/blog/#sthash.648Wcp9S.dpuf
Tina
Tina Donahue
“Heat with Heart”
ILLICIT INTENT (5 FLAMES – MY READING OBSESSION)
ILLICIT DESIRE (4 STARS – ROMANTIC TIMES)
SENSUAL STRANGER (BOOK OF THE YEAR 2010)
DEEP, DARK, DELICIOUS (HOLT MEDALLION AWARD OF MERIT)
Website: http://www.tinadonahue.com/
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This is from my contemporary romance, Clear As Day.
http://viewbook.at/ClearAsDay
“Wow, amazing suit, Olivia.” JoAnn dragged Olivia forward for introductions, while the tense Olivia looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else. An elegant, obviously pampered woman, she was tall, with beautiful bone structure, deep-brown bedroom eyes, perfect tan skin and silky black hair done up in a neat twist and well-behaved tendrils. Discreet diamonds winked in her ears, and the black bikini and lacy cover-up she wore on her model-slim body shouted if you have to ask, you can’t afford it designer.
“Nate, isn’t she the most gorgeous thing? Like Audrey Hepburn and Sophia Loren and that other actress whose name I forget all rolled together. You so have to photograph her. Right? Getting settled in over there, honey?”
A delicate smile and a flush lit Olivia’s face, changing her expression from aloof to uncertain. The honeyed touch of Southern accent when she spoke was a surprise. “Thank you. Honestly, not really. R.J. was in such a hurry to head out fishing, everything’s just, well, there. I’m good around a boat, but camping…” She shrugged.
JoAnn patted Olivia’s shoulder. “We’ll get you set up. Don’t you worry.”
“All right! Who’s ready to cut some water? Kay, want first go?” Dave shucked off his faded T-shirt that declared Firefighters Do It Hot and Wet. His tough, rangy body still hadn't an ounce of spare flesh.
“Oh, be still my heart.” JoAnn grinned and fanned herself.
Dave’s laughter cracked out, and he tossed her the shirt.
JoAnn fake-swooned into a chair, clutching the shirt to her, and doubled up laughing.
Hello!
I'm showing a glimpse from A Magical Affair, a magic and mayhem themed ménage story from Silver Publishing by my alter ego, Skye Ritchey.
Jarvin's lips curved in a knowing smile. "Heath, your lovely Romy has some very specific things planned for your stay here. The Meadows is a remarkable place, sitting atop an ancient wellspring of magic." He paused when Heath narrowed his eyes. "I don't blame you for being skeptical, but please put aside your doubt." Jarvin turned and held out his hand. "Vivica, darling, let's show Heath what we can do."
A stunning blonde with an hourglass figure and a hot red dress came into view on the second floor. She smiled and started a slow walk from the end of the corridor leading toward the stairs. Before his eyes, she morphed from curvy to lean and leggy, wearing fuck-me heels and a sheer white negligee. Heath blinked, and when he looked again, her hair had changed to a shimmery black. Two steps later, she sported a short, cropped cut, dangly jewelry, and wore hiking boots with cutoff denim shorts and a halter in an ethnic print. When she reached the top of the stairs, Heath sucked in a breath. The walls and steps faded, replaced by a fire escape on the exterior of a brownstone building. She kicked the release and started a descent down the metal rungs. Halfway down, the scene changed again, the stone altered to an ornate, gilded interior with lush, carpeted steps, and Vivica now had an elaborate up-do in a shade of chestnut that complemented the emerald green sheath and matching shoes she wore. She reached the bottom and made her way toward Heath, grasping his hand in greeting.
Heath shot a sideways glance toward Jarvin. "Okay, very impressive. I won't even bother asking how, because frankly, I don't care. It's enough to know it's possible." He turned toward Romy and noticed the room had gone back to its original decor. "You never cease to amaze, Rom. One of the many reasons I love you."
~*~
I hope you enjoyed the preview. A Magical Affair is available at the following locations:
Silver Publishing
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AMZ
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ARE
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BN
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Kobo
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Bookstrand
Please drop by my blog for more sneak peeks of my works in progress.
Skye Ritchey
Or visit my website: Skye Writes
A miniature woman ran alongside the court just feet away, bountiful boobs bouncing with each step, threatening to pop right out of her low cut, short blue dress. “Evan! Evan! You’ve got to believe!”
She was like no bible thumper he’d ever seen, although she had a booty a man could get a grip on to go with that fine pair of tits. Long hair the burnished red-brown of a well-loved basketball flew off her shoulders.
“Evan! Evan!”
But he wished she’d shut the fuck up. His game was bad enough without another distraction.
A miracle happened. Ren Du passed the ball and Evan caught it.
He dribbled past her, eye on the basket, trying to spot threats in his peripheral vision.
“Evan, you can score!” She was practically on the court with him.
“Evan!” Out of the corner of his eye, Evan saw the spike of the woman’s fire engine red heel snap off. His only fan in the stadium went down on her finely curved ass right in front of the line of seated plastic cheerleaders, who burst into laughter.
Jablone passed the ball to Antoine Watson, damn him. Dribbling, Watson led his defender in circles. Watson was no turtle, but quickness didn’t count for shit when you couldn’t score.
Something red skittered out on the court beneath Watson’s ill-placed foot. He wobbled and dumped the ball in Evan’s direction – a last ditch pass, way off. Evan would have to hustle to catch it. But he could. He’d have to –
“Evan.” She’d crawled within a foot of him on the hardwood, had risen to her knees.
The ball hit Evan in the face and he went down on top of her, trying to break his fall with his elbows, which burned as he skidded across the polished wood, sliding with her beneath him. Evan didn’t care. His chin was pillowed in her breasts. Her thighs embraced him. There might have been a whistle. Evan couldn’t hear. The crowd’s reaction was deafening, demanding.
His gaze slid up those bountiful mounds to her plump cherry lips, further up to a pair of rich chocolate eyes. She was a treat, begging to be tasted.
“You can score,” she whispered, a shell-shocked broken record.
“Baby, I plan to.”
From Amber Rules: http://amzn.to/19Qon7O
Book 1 of the Hollywood Rules by Mel Curtis
www.MelindaCurtis.net
This is from my recent release, Sharing Annabelle, a contemporary BDSM ménage romance. It is available from Siren: http://www.bookstrand.com/sharing-annabelle
Mason smirked but she ignored him and turned to hold up two dresses.
“Slutty or sexy?”
On one hanger she had a body-hugging halter bandage gown with a crisscross design that accentuated her hourglass figure and put her boobs on their best display. She knew the light gold color with a hint of shimmer would flatter her skin tone and look great against her dark hair.
The flowing sheer skirt flared from the bottom and made what would have been a regular bandage mini a more sophisticated look. It was definitely sexy but it didn’t reveal too much skin at one time.
On the other hanger she had a dress that was pure sin. There was a large gold ring that rested in the center of her chest. One band of satin wrapped through the gold ring and around her neck in a halter. Another satin band wrapped from the gold band around her back and reattached to the ring in the front. Other than that small band, the dress was backless.
Satin draped in two cascades in front of her boobs in a deep cowl neck line that dropped so low her belly button was revealed. The top was sewn onto the ruched skirt. The skirt was so short it only came down about an inch below her ass cheeks and was tight enough to look painted on.
Mason looked both dresses over carefully considering them before he answered.
“The gold one for tonight. The black one for later.” The heated way he growled that second sentence left her in no doubt as to what they’d be doing when she put on that dress.
Twitter: @LeytonSarah
SarahLeyton.com
This is a short one from my paranormal romance, Wolves' Pawn. It is available on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HVDD1G4
My heroine, Dot, has returned to assist the Fairwood pack in an ongoing feud with another pack.
Gavin turned towards the voice, and dropped the marker he held. “Dot?”
“Hello, Gavin, Elder Fairwood.” Gavin couldn’t believe his eyes. Her hair was bleached white, shaved on the sides, with the top about two inches long and dyed bright pink. She wore a sleeveless camo-colored T-shirt, and tribal tattoos decorated her upper right arm, while a bright pink bandanna was tied around the left one. Her cargo pants were also of camouflage material, another bright pink bandanna hung from one of its loops, and the belt she wore had a strange metallic decoration. On her hands she wore a pair of pink fingerless gloves, and on her feet, a pair of black combat boots.
Gavin wondered if her socks were bright pink too. He’d find out when he pulled them off her feet later followed by other articles of her clothing. At least that’s what he hoped would happen. He took a half step towards her but stopped abruptly when he saw the expression on the face of the man who came into the room behind her.
I'd love to know how you've managed to have your links active, Skye.
I'll put a quick tutorial together and post it on the group. Happy to share. :D
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