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Tag Archives: erotica

25% Of All eBooks at Totally Bound Publishing and Pride Publishing #sale #books #romance #erotica

Hi folks,

Here’s an awesome deal for you especially for Valentine’s week – 25% off all eBooks at Totally Bound Publishing and Pride Publishing, which includes quite a lot of mine! Check out the links below to bag yourself some awesome bargains:

My Book Page at Totally Bound Publishing

My Book Page at Pride Publishing

According to the publisher, this deal ends on Friday, so don’t delay!

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Cover Reveal and Pre-Order for The Next Big Thing #erotica #romance #femdom

The Next Big ThingHi folks,

I’m delighted to show off this luscious new cover and let you know you can pre-order this erotic romance short story, coming on the 18th February. It’s not available for pre-order on Amazon, sadly, but is at all other retailers, and will be on the Zon closer the time. Bear in mind, those of you who read the Brit Babes Sexy Just Got Rich anthology, you’ve read this story already. It’s been tweaked slightly, but nothing major.

Here’s what it’s all about:

Catriona’s life is spiralling out of control. One minute she’s a successful investment banker with a flat by the Thames and a healthy bank balance; the next she’s a famous author. Well, sort of famous. She’s written a femdom novel under a pen name, so nobody actually knows it was her. Her publisher has gone marketing crazy, lauding her book “The Next Big Thing”—much to her bewilderment. Especially since she hasn’t done any of the things she wrote about.

On launch day, curiosity gets the better of her and she goes into a busy London bookstore to queue up for her copy—despite the box of author copies stuffed into the bottom of her wardrobe. There she meets Elijah. When idle chit chat leads to him admitting he’s interested in female domination, everything changes, and their chance meeting leads to a whole lot more, giving Catriona the opportunity to experience the things she’s previously only fantasised about—not to mention the inspiration she needs to write the sequel her publisher is clamouring for.

Pre-order yours here:
Barnes & Noble
Google Books
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43890050-the-next-big-thing

Happy Reading!
Lucy x

Sin City Sweethearts (Vegas Babes #3) by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #lesbian #erotica #BDSM

Sin City SweetheartsBlurb

Like many newlyweds, Annie and Ted work hard, economize, live in a too-small apartment, and make passionate love whenever possible. They’re just a bit more open-minded and inclusive about sex than most couples—they met at The Fox’s Den strip club and bonded during an orgy. They’re delighted when fraternal twins Marcella and Madeleine McNabb move into the apartment downstairs. The innocent eighteen year old beauties have come to Las Vegas for university and to escape their overprotective family. Annie and Ted figure it’s practically their duty to educate the sisters about the real Sin City.

Marcie and Maddy prove to be apt pupils, with voracious carnal appetites. Before long they’re intimately involved not only with their upstairs neighbors, but also their hippie landlord and landlady, Maddy’s hunky coach, Marcie’s dominant department head, a handful of their classmates, a bevy of strippers from the Den and the infamous Foxy and Larry themselves. Then the four McNabb brothers come to town, threatening to drag the twins back to Ely, and things get truly wild.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://kinkyliterature.com/book/5123-sin-city-sweethearts-vegas-babes-book-3/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Amazon UK –  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917885

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sin-city-sweethearts-lisabet-sarai/1130204032?ean=2940155941880

Kobo –  Coming soon!

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43594528-sin-city-sweethearts

*****

X-rated Excerpt Romantic

Ted slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her ripe body to his, and buried his face in her hair.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “You smell amazing, baby.”

“Yuck. I feel like I need an hour-long shower. I’m soaked.”

“Just the way I like you, Annie-belle.” He rubbed his aching dick against her bare midriff, then squirmed his hand into her waistband to stroke her damp skin. The tight shorts made it difficult to maneuver, but he managed to worm his way down to the top edge of her bush.

She gasped when he brushed a finger tip over the springy curls. He took advantage of her open mouth to thrust his tongue inside. Far from resisting, Annie sealed her eager mouth to his, sucking hungrily as if his tongue were his cock.

The notion made him harder still. He had to get these damn shorts off her before he exploded. “Turn around, baby,” he urged, releasing her long enough for her to comply.

Supporting her weight on the couch back, she arched her back to present her glorious ass.  Ted almost lost it right there. Struggling for control, he peeled her sweaty shorts down to bare those magic globes. The garment got stuck halfway down her thighs.

“Damn!”

Annie tried to spread her legs, with little success. “Never mind—just fuck me!” She reached behind her, grabbed her rear cheeks and held them open, showing off her glistening, rose-colored cleft. Pussy juice dripped onto her fingers. “Come on!” she moaned. “I want your cock.”

He didn’t need a second invitation. He yanked the elastic on his shorts down below his balls to release his swollen dick and rammed it into her drenched pussy.

“Ahh!” His rough entrance forced a yelp from her throat. He pulled back, thinking to give her some relief, but she clenched her inner muscles around his shaft in an attempt to keep him inside her. He obliged, reversing his retreat, driving his rampant cock as deep as it would go.

“Oooh!” she wailed.

“You okay?” he asked, gritting his teeth against the sensations boiling in his balls. He wanted so much to come, to empty his jizz into the snatch that gripped him like a velvet glove. But his Annie deserved a climax, too.

She didn’t answer in words, but the way she writhed on his pole told him what he needed to know. Each time he thrust, she rolled her hips backward, trying for even deeper penetration. Her firm, full buttocks mashed against his groin. Wet heat engulfed him. Her musky scent rose around them, mingling with the tang of his own sweat. He hammered her cunt hard, again and again, giving his lover what he knew she wanted.

His hands were on her waist, holding her steady as he drilled into her. The half-discarded shorts turned her thighs into a delicious straitjacket, slick skin pressing against his shaft on each backward stroke. The tightness was sweet agony, almost too intense, but it also helped him to hold off coming. Still, he didn’t think he could last much longer.

Leaning forward, across Annie’s back, he licked at her earlobe. “Come for me, baby,” he murmured. “Come all over my fat cock.”

She moaned and bucked against him. Probably she needed his fingers on her clit, but with her thighs forced together, that was close to impossible.

Desperate, a breath away from shooting, he reached around to cup her breasts. He palmed the sweet mounds of flesh—the perfect size for his big hands—and squeezed both nipples, mimicking what he would have done with her clit.

“Fuck!” she yelled, clamping down on his dick like a vise. Her body shuddered as climax took her.

New wetness flooded her snatch. He let go, grinding his bursting cock against her cervix. Annie released a choked cry and shuddered again, a second orgasm sweeping through her. Cum erupted from his cock in huge spurts. He pulled out to paint white loops across her naked butt, the way she’d said she liked. His lusty bride moaned and jerked as the cum met her skin, tumbling into yet another climax.

Exhausted at last, Annie collapsed face down on the sofa. Ted crumpled to his knees, his body draped across her back. Gradually their breathing returned to normal.

Annie recovered first. “Wow!” she murmured, struggling against his weight to roll over. Ted moved quickly to give her the space she needed. She lay back on the sofa, arms spread wide, juice and jizz still dripping from her exposed pussy, and gave him a beatific smile. “Thank you! That was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Ted agreed. “Totally amazing.” He sprawled on the floor, propped up against the couch, his limp cock dangling outside his shorts. “I love being married to you.” She was so adorable. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to fuck her again. He glanced down at his belly, smeared with some of the cum he’d spurted onto her ass. “Maybe we do need a shower, though.”

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Mid Week Tease: Though it definitely wasn’t a thumb, sore or otherwise. #lesfic #lesbian #erotica

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease and Happy New Year! I’m delighted to be sharing a tease from my first release of the year, Sapphic Seduction, a lesbian erotica anthology, out now.

Sapphic SeductionShrugging, Verity carried on walking. She was here now—she wasn’t going to leave just in case it rained. Even if it did, so what? A little rain never killed anyone. It could actually be kind of refreshing.

Putting one foot in front of the other, she followed her nose through the landscape, admiring everything she saw, and exchanging polite nods and smiles with the handful of people she met. And it was only a handful. Perhaps others had checked the weather forecast before coming out and had been deterred. More fool them.

On the other hand, though, she thanked them. It meant she had the place pretty much to herself. Smiling, she allowed her imagination to run away with itself, painting a picture of a scenario where Verity owned the stately home currently hidden from view, and was wandering in her own private gardens. Every tree, every bush, every flower, every blade of grass was on her land, and she loved it. Having such an amazing place to call her own… well, she knew how lucky she was.

She was snapped out of her grand and wonderful fantasy by something that didn’t look quite right. Blinking, she focussed on whatever it was over to her left-hand side that seemed to stand out like a sore thumb. She frowned and stepped closer, still not entirely sure what she was seeing. Though it definitely wasn’t a thumb, sore or otherwise.

When her brain caught up, rearranging the shiny red rubber with blue polka dots from this mysterious thing to the pair of wellington boots it actually was, Verity gasped. Shit—someone had fallen over and landed in the undergrowth! All she could see now was the footwear, and a portion of the dark-green trousers tucked into them.

Hurrying over, she fumbled in her pocket for her mobile, thinking to ring an ambulance, or a doctor at the very least. However, the restrictive material of her jeans would not give up the device as she moved. Swearing to herself, Verity decided to check on the person first—likely a woman, in such funky wellies, and they were too big for a child—and see if she could make her more comfortable before she tried again for the phone.

Her heart pounded as she left the path and stepped onto the grass, then over to the dirt border. She was probably damaging something, but figured helping an injured person was way more important than preserving grass and rare plants.

A slight movement of the red and blue boots reassured and panicked Verity in equal measure. Although reassured that the person was able to move, she panicked that doing so could be injuring them further. “H-hello?” she called out. “It’s okay, please don’t move. I’ve come to help you. Just relax, I’m here to help.”

Grab your copy now: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sapphic-seduction/

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!

***

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About Choosing Your Novel’s Title by Akinyi Prinzessin von K’Orinda-Yimbo (A P von K’Ory)

I read an article by Chuck Sambuchino about how to choose a novel/book’s title, and it reminded me of my own inadequacies in this task.

I remembered when Bruce Cook edited my first novel back in 2010, then titled Jungle Habits, Bruce said (to put it loosely): Nope, this title doesn’t do the book justice. This book is more than Jungle and Habits; it’s all about tradition and the desire to adhere to them in a modern changing world, for a young African girl torn between modernity and her traditional African/Kenyan/Luo upbringing.

Bang!

I changed the title to Bound to Tradition, now a trilogy and the book that won me the Netherlands PADDI prize:  Achievers’Award for Writer of the Year 2013.

Another title I had to change was Helena’s Secret, which does involve the heroine’s deep-seated secret about her biological heritage that she hides not only from the world but even from her own self. It is a secret that has become a huge roadblock in the fulfilment of young

Helena’s romantic yearnings and makes her give romance a wide berth. Until true love steps between her and her roadblock and demands full attention. My mentor and editor extraordinaire, Kenneth Mulholland, called the title “pedestrian, like The Day Kate Went to the Market”. And I changed the title, first to Secret Shades of Fading Blood, then to simply Secret Shades (now a two-book novel – Secret Shades Aroused, and Secret Shades

Revealed). Secret Shades as a title is short and memorable, and a lot more intriguing because it leaves that potent word “Secret” in place while adding in “Shades” which conjures up anything from sunglasses to ghosts. In truth, the “secret” is about Helena’s biological

heritage and concerns the colour of her skin.

Apparently, even F. Scott Fitzgerald was asked by his publisher to change the title of his novel, which we all know as The Great Gatsby. The famous writer’s original title for the book was Trimalchio in West Egg. Would you have been drawn into buying a book with that title?

Readers, as a rule of thumb, are drawn to a book not only by its cover but also by what the title conjures up in their minds, coupled by the book cover. Not an easy task for a new writer. After all, we are writers, creators of the world’s mushrooming in the space between our ears, not experts in luring other people’s tastes and preferences to our lair so that they come and consort with us. At least I’m not the think-of-the-readers-first kind of a writer. I have my world in my heart and soul and it screams at me to create it. I want to share it with everybody, even the unwilling, but won’t take offence if some people don’t love my baby and don’t see its beauty and merits.  All else is shut out when I create. I’m in labour, alone at home. I’m not thinking about how many copies will be bought and by whom. I’m thinking, “I have this baby in me and it’s time to give birth to it and nurture it to maturity”. It’s a desire and a temptation

I can’t resist. It’s addictive and has a pull beyond my “common sense” arena.

My writing is heavily tinged with my own Euro-Afrocentric upbringing and cultural heritage that is includes Kenya, Egypt, India, German and French. All tinged with the innermost me.

That’s why it is ever so crucial for us writers to have an editor and a publisher to take care of “business”, leaving us the time and peace to create and nurture our creations to maturity.

 

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Chase (Book 1)

An evening at the opera house La Scala in Milan twirled the lives of five people into a web of intrigues, heartaches, human hunts, loss and revenge.

Roman: I never chased after a woman. It was always the other way around. Then I caught a glimpse of the woman I would kneel for, at the opera, and I didn’t even know her name. But I determined to find her if it took me the rest of my life.

Shana: He stood in the room with her. The frisson in the currents freaking between them was as solid as a steel portal. The mutual force of predator and prey blasted its way into her core … her soul … Danger. Keep far away from him.

Marie: Some men were born to rule the world; others were born to ruin it. Roman Alastair Northcott Broughton Castell was born to do both. But she loved him and awaited his baby.

Alyssa: He was the lover she wouldn’t tire of. Roman had something so damned perilous about him he was addictive. Who gets addicted to safe and riskless? Not her.

Grieg/Phoenix: Had His Girl interpreted that Friday night as abuse? He’d only done what she wanted – protection of her cherished innocence.

 

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Chase (Book 1)

What a difference a day makes… And it hadn’t been a day. It had been an evening in Milan. Brief moments of an evening. I didn’t care about the consequences to whomever. Through my obsession with Svadishana I became aware of the fact that I was a person. A human being, not an almighty god, with all the baggage that comes with being that. I too – eureka! – had a heart pumping white and red corpuscles through my veins. Blood, not icicles.

Was it love I felt for Svadishana? A woman I’d spoken three whiny words – Please call me! – to? Was it more than simple lust and desire? Did I want to possess more than just her body?

Pondering these questions alone was so unlike me. That woman had turned me into an alien even unto my own self. What I felt, my inner voice said, was more than the thrill of the hunt. More than lust, desire, need, passion, the excitement of possession, and subjugation.

Of course all that was part of it. But the basis or the source, the seedbed on which all that sprouted and was growing to full blossom in me, could well be something else.

When I thought of her, saw her image from Milan in my mind, watched how she moved in long smooth strides in YouTube, my brow beaded with sweat. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from the few photos I’d fished out of the Internet. Group photos at a family birthday or the authorized biography of her father. Her movements in a YouTube conference clip were springy and powerful even in their smoothness. She exuded strength all over the place, laughing, talking, gesticulating.

A breath-taking beauty. Such beauty that I dared not believe it at times.

And brains to go with it.

In love or not, I knew what I wanted and Svadishana was the answer. I wanted her and would do anything short of suicide to get her. Who knows – perhaps when it came to that as the only means available, I’d really murder too. I didn’t in the least care about the consequences, as long as they got me to where I wanted to get to.

Svadishana’s arms and knickers and… heart?

What obsession, Roman. Get back to real.

No chance. Real was Svadishana.

 

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Capture (Book 2)

Roman finally gets together with Shana. But he finds himself wedged between three women and the man intent on killing him because of Shana. And there’s the secret of Marie’s unborn baby.

Roman: I wanted to eat all of her. Even within that fortress I longed to erect around her to hold her captive in, to keep her away from men not worthy of the sight of her, I’d devour her.

Shana: Roman was deadly sex. She had no antigenic for immunity against him. Instead she lay there on his bed, in an impossible state of sluttish disarray, holding her breath.

Marie: “So you didn’t bring your rich old cow with you.” The bitch was ten years older than her, years older than Roman himself. Weren’t men supposed to prefer younger women?

Alyssa: She was not going to let Roman treat her like a hole in the air. He started this triangle and she was going to make it equilateral.

Grieg/Phoenix: His philosophy stated that peace was bondage, and war was freedom. His Girl was his territory, and no other man’s.

 

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Capture (Book 2)

I picked her up and carried her like a bride. Or a sleeping child. She nuzzled between my neck and shoulder. I kicked the door shut behind us.

We were both ablaze, and I needed to check that, wind it down a notch.

“Like to lie down on the sofa and cuddle till we both slow down a bit?”

“Bed.” Her voice vibrated against my neck.

We left the entrance hall behind us. The flames kept on leaping.

“Overriding my sensible decision?”

“Yes. Bed.” Tremulous once, tremulous twice.

“Just got me, and you want to run away with it.” I bore her past the living room.

“Bed.”

“I’m getting a restraining order on you.” I took the first stair, chest tight again.

She lifted her head off my shoulder and her Huskies sent megawatts to my blues. Unveiled desire. My balls clenched. At this degree I risked coming where I stood with her in my arms. I was tempted to close my eyes and summon my control. For the first time I felt life surge through my veins for a woman, the whole woman, not just sex with her. Again, I experienced that powerful instinct in me to guard and protect her, the fragile and most precious thing in my life. She had a pull on every cell in me. Her masses of loose curls gave warm slaps through my chinos to my hip, sending the sergeant into planning guerrilla warfare for its freedom.

The witch. I was hypnotized. I had to stop climbing the stairs and get my head cleared. She was as necessary to me as the air I breathed, yet she knocked that air straight out of my lungs. Her naked desire was intoxicating. Insanity mingled with reality. I really had her back in my arms. She came to me, came to my home for the first time. And ordered Bed, not a mutual shower. She was the first and only woman to take me to this Newland. She was my perfect balance. I’d fallen hard and didn’t even want to get back up. It happens to the worst of us ingrained rogue playboys.

The Huskies still pinned me in Newland. “Skirting around the deed, are we?”

“Protecting my golden goddess.”

For sheer survival, I broke the lock of our eyes and started up the stairs again.

Blurb: Golden Shana: The Untouchable (Book 3)

Roman doesn’t even want a harem. But the harem relentlessly seeks him. No sooner has Shana left Roman than Grieg/Phoenix is marking time on Roman’s door, out for a war, not a fight, over Shana. And so is Marie, whose pregnancy Roman still keeps a secret.

Roman: I loved owning women. Then I found my woman. But she would never be owned, not even by the gods. She left me. Still, her dangerous admirer and I began wars over her, not merely street fisticuffs.

Shana:  Roman scares me in every way and the fear excites me. I’m brainless in his arms, brainless just from thinking about him. He makes me navigate so many labyrinthine passages and secret doors that I’d never even been aware of before. My body knelt and wept for him. My common sense made me flee from him while I could.

Marie: I sold Roman my heart and soul. Only to realise my body had not been consulted, and was therefore out for war.

Alyssa: I really got all that about Roman. The super-ink indelibility of him, the substance of him that stamped his four-figure-euro Ferragamo Oxfords, the supernatural charisma that rocketed him all the way up there with Lucifer. His square would never fit my round. But hope springs eternal, right?

Grieg: “If I have whoever your girl is, why don’t you simply come over and take me off her or her off me?” Roman had not reacted like a man who had received that damning message. Over the phone, he’d sounded as if he didn’t have a single feather ruffled. Time to start the war.

 

Excerpt from Golden Shana: The Untouchable (Book 3)

I heard him change the phone to the other ear. “Castell, you’re a kid running a billion-euro crib, you pervert.”

My system actually waged wars for me to jump out of my skin. Control, Castell.

“Oh, yes. I’m about as straight as the U-bend under a sink, fuckwit. So is this the problem? A pissing contest based on having some beef about your wallet being a little anorexic in comparison? Have I got that bracketed?” I heard him swallow again. I decided on a blind knock on that, although for all I knew he was drinking water. “By the way, I’d ease up on the drink. Otherwise you won’t manage to solve the square root of bugger all, let alone remember if you have any other name but Sggirb.”

“I know you right up to your fucking perve room, Castell. I delivered the CD—had the CD delivered – right into your fucking office, practically into your hands. You know nothing about me. So you better watch your smart mouth.”

“Ah, you thought you’d simply storm the Bastille that’s my home and be discreet about it, then slink into my office building and show me the dot over the i that amounts to your balls? You’re right, I know nothing about you. You’re not even in my periphery, private or public.”

“I’m not a ball of yarn to your kitten, so watch your fucking mouth, Castell!”

Just to keep him put off his stroke, “Who would you say has all the tools for annihilation, fuckwit, the kitten or the yarn?”

“You’re lucky I’m—”

“Luck is basically mythical. Reality is called chance. How about we meet?”

He said nothing.

Not good, because now that I was screwing him hard, I needed to keep up the pace. So I said, “You could make it your mud hole or you could haul your arse back here to my city. Then we roll up our sleeves, or whisk off our T-shirts. Then we start doing a little tribute to Muhammad Ali out in the Congo with Joe Frazier.”

He said nothing. I heard him swallow at intervals during the silence. “I’m rapt with attention, fuckwit Sggirb, so let’s have a date and then – to quote your countryman –you are an American – float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

“You think you’re so fucking cool…” He rumbled the word out long: Coooooollll…

“Oh, I don’t just think it.”

“Just keep your hands off her, Castell. Keep your hands off My Girl!”

“If I have whoever your girl is, why don’t you simply come over and take me off her or her off me?” I paused for a reply, none came. “Or is this the sheep being docile until they get utterly famished?” Another pause. Silence, so I continued, “You sound like you wouldn’t find a clitoris if you were armed with a compass, street map and a fucking NASA telescope.”

“You can’t intimidate me, Castell.”

Which only exposed to me the wound I’d ripped open in him. Time to add chilli.

 

BUY LINKS IN KINDLE – Please note that the books are also available in paperbacks:

UK Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Golden-Shana-Chase-von-KOry-ebook/dp/B00WA7M3OC/

UK Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Golden-Shana-Capture-von-KOry-ebook/dp/B06X1DGGMZ/

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Golden-Shana-Untouchable-von-KOry-ebook/dp/B07H1YY28C#reader_1725967073

US Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Golden-Shana-Capture-von-KOry-ebook/dp/B06X1DGGMZ/

US Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Golden-Shana-Untouchable-von-KOry-ebook/dp/B07H1YY28C/

UK Untouchable PB: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Golden-Shana-Untouchable-von-KOry/dp/1725967073

 

Website http://www.Akinyi-princess.de

Twitter  https://www.twitter.com/Apky11162

Facebook

Facebook Author Page:          https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAPVonKOry/

Facebook Timeline:                https://www.facebook.com/apvonkory

FB Golden Shana Series:       https://www.facebook.com/Goshanaliterotic/

FB Editor/Services:                https://www.facebook.com/KOrindaYimbo/

FB AuthorMePro Press:         https://www.facebook.com/Professionaless62bloggerP/

FB Readers & Reviewers:     https://www.facebook.com/AkinyiReadersReviews/

Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.co.uk/A-P-Von-KOry/e/B00MDHD7ZS

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/a-p-von-kory/

Enter for your chance to win a Kindle copy of one of A P von K’Ory’s backlist books!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

New Release: Sapphic Seduction #lesfic #lesbian #erotica

Hi folks,

I’m delighted to announce the release of Sapphic Seduction, a F/F erotica collection, and my first release of 2019. Whoop!

Blurb

If you enjoy short tales of ladies loving each other, then get your hands on this collection from the pen of award-winning author Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to army basic training, surfer chicks to mechanics, and even a lost dog, this book has variety galore. There’s something for everyone, and will have you eager to turn just one more page.

Enjoy twelve titillating tales, over 45,000 words of Sapphic delight.

Please note: The stories in this anthology have been previously published.

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43265119-sapphic-seduction

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
Google Books
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

I hope you’ll check it out!

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Mid Week Tease: She’d come here for some peace and solitude… #lesfic #lesbian #erotica

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease and Happy New Year! I’m delighted to be sharing a tease from what will be my first release of the year, Sapphic Seduction, a lesbian erotica anthology, releasing tomorrow.

Sapphic SeductionVerity’s phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her of an angry—and insistent—bee. Sighing, she pulled the device out and looked at the screen. Rolling her eyes, she rejected the call, then pressed the off button. Fuck her family and their petty dramas—she did enough for them, and they never appreciated it. Let them deal with their own shit for a change. She’d come here for some peace and solitude, and that was what she was damn well going to get.

After showing her membership card to the kindly old lady at the kiosk, Verity passed through the gate and into the gardens of Biddulph Grange. The beautiful stately home, sadly, was private, but the stunning landscaped gardens were open to the public. The place was already off the beaten track—nestled as it was, deep in the Staffordshire countryside—but once Verity stepped inside the huge gardens, she felt a million miles from anywhere.

Closing her eyes momentarily, she pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils, and released it from her mouth. Already she felt better, the stress and irritation seeping out of her and disappearing into the gravelled path beneath her feet. This place was her refuge, her sanctuary. She never told anyone where she went when she disappeared off for a few hours every couple of weeks—more often if her family was being more difficult than usual—and that was the beauty of it. No one knew where she was, no one could bother her. All she had was herself and the cacophony of nature within the garden walls, and that was precisely how she wanted it.

Letting out a contented sigh this time, she shut out all the unpleasant thoughts, emptying her mind, and concentrated only on what was around her. What she could see, what she could hear, what she could smell.

Her favourite thing about the gardens—aside from their being her escape—was the fact they seemed to look different every time she visited. Nature took its course: trees and bushes grew, plants flowered, leaves turned and dropped. New plants were introduced, old or diseased ones were removed.

The wildlife was wonderful, too. A huge variety of birds fluttered, swooped and hopped around, tweeting, twittering and singing. Butterflies and squirrels also made frequent appearances. They never failed to make Verity smile, and today was no exception. A further weight was lifted from her as her lips curved into a grin, and she breathed in deeply through her nostrils. The air smelled fresh, yet something lingered, hinting at something to come.

Verity tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. Hmm, that could be it. There was a thick covering of cloud, not particularly ominous-looking, but then that was British weather for you. It could, and did, change in the blink of an eye.

Pre-order your copy now: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sapphic-seduction/

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!