Tag Archives: k d grace

Sexy Just Got Rich is on Sale! #99c #99p #sale #bookbargain

Hi lovelies,

Just swinging by to let you know that Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires is on sale for just 99c/p for a limited time! So if you want to bag a sexy bookish bargain, click the relevant link below:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

And please do spread the word to all your friends so they can get a bargain, too!

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Out Now! Buried Pleasures (Medusa’s Consortium series book 3) by K D Grace (@kd_grace) #newrelease #urbanfantasy #uf

Buried PleasuresBlurb:

When Samantha Black shares her sandwich with a dog, his owner, Jon—a homeless man living in the Las Vegas storm tunnels—gives her a poker chip worth a fortune from the exclusive casino, Buried Pleasures. All Sam has to do is cash it in. Sam is in Vegas for one reason only—to get her friend, Evie Holt, away from sinister magician, Darian Fox, who holds her prisoner in an effort to force Sam to perform at his club, Illusions. A neon circus tent of strange and mystical acts, Illusions is one of the biggest draws in Vegas, and he’s hell-bent on including Sam in his disturbing plans.

The shadowy Magda Gardener will do anything to keep Sam from cashing in that chip. She knows that Buried Pleasures is the gate to Hades and cashing in the chip is a one-way ticket across the River Styx, which runs beneath the storm tunnels of Vegas. Jon is really Jack Graves, owner of Buried Pleasures, and Graves is really the god of death, himself, and if things aren’t already confusing enough, he and Magda know what Sam doesn’t. Sam is the last siren. That her song can kill is only the beginning of her story. Jon wants her safe on his side of the River, protected from Fox’s hideous magic. But even Death fears Magda Gardener, who is none other than Medusa, and the gorgon has her own agenda. If Sam is to understand her heritage and win the battle against Darian Fox, not only will she have to trust her heart to Death, but they’ll both have to work for the gorgon, whose connection with Sam runs deeper than any of them could imagine.

Buy links:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/buriedpleasures

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/buried-pleasures-k-d-grace/1127222027?ean=2940154583531

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/buried-pleasures/id1295660281?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/buried-pleasures-1

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/753121?ref=cw1985

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36401609-buried-pleasures

*****

Rated R

Excerpt: So much more than La Petit Mort

With a soft clink, Fox dropped the key in a small ceramic bowl on the dresser, not bothering to lock the door behind him. There was no need now.

He heard the rustle of bedding and a soft female moan before his eyes fully adjusted to the gloom. Then he saw the shape of her, duvet thrown back in spite of the chill, the pale silk of the negligee rising and falling with her anxious breathing. He always asked that they be clothed in white silk. Occasionally there was blood, and the red of blood against white silk made the experience more formal somehow, and it always felt like such an occasion should be formal.

As he became used to the gloom, he could see that she had been well-groomed for the occasion, fully made-up and hair freshly coifed, just as he had requested. It was a condition that wasn’t strictly necessary, but made the whole experience seem a little more ceremonial, a little more festive. After all, presentation was a key ingredient in every good restaurant, wasn’t it? Why should his situation be any different?

“Gabriella, you look exquisite tonight, my darling. I can’t tell you how much I’ve anticipated being with you, having you here in my bed.” He removed his jacket and hung it carefully over a cedar hanger on the back of the door. “Did I not promise you that the time would come when I would invite you into my own home, into my own bed?”

Of course it wasn’t his own bed. He never took them to his bed. He had several other rooms in several other places where he took from them what he needed, though this one was special. This one was for feasting. He carefully undressed by the side of the bed where she would be able to admire his every move. She moaned softly and writhed, not taking her eyes off him, needing him almost as much as he needed her. Almost.

At his leisure, he took in the curves that were still luscious enough to be tempting—the rise of nipples, the dilation of pupils, the rhythmic shifting of hips, all of which he could now make out. Ripe fruit, he thought. She was ripe fruit. The experience was always most ecstatic, always most satisfying, when his chosen had not yet passed her peak, when he had not used her so much that her looks had suffered, nor her hunger for him weakened. He needed her hunger as much as he needed her beauty. The two always went hand in hand. He needed her hunger to be her driving force, driving her to him over and over again, until all strength was gone. Most often he controlled his hunger, careful not to allow himself more than what was necessary to survive and thrive.

Tonight, however, he was drained and starving from effort and exhaustion, but from excitement as well, from the knowing that Samantha Black was capable of so much more than even he had anticipated. Tonight he would take deeply from the ripest fruit, take as though it were the first and the last fullness of summer, and Gabriella was just at that point of fullness.

“I’m going to make love to you, darling.” He didn’t even try to disguise his hunger. Anxious anticipation was as much a part of the ritual as savoring the moment, and he wanted her to know how much he hungered for her, how much he needed her. “I’m going to make you come as you have never come before, my sweetheart.” He slid onto the bed next to her, his left hand stroking her soft, dark hair, his right cupping himself, making himself ready. “Would you like that, Gabriella? I know you would, I know how impatient you’ve been.”

There was a soft whimper, and the woman shifted her hips and threw back her head with a little gasp as he slid a thumb across her heavy bottom lip. He was hard, always hard when he hungered. It was a part of the ritual, a part of the consuming, a part of fulfilling his need.

Carefully he slipped down the straps of the negligee so that he could admire the fullness of her breasts. Yes, presentation was so important — ripe cherry nipples against silken white fabric, so succulent, so ready. Her skin was the color of expensive mocha, and for a moment, he took in the feast for the eyes waiting for him. Then he cupped her sex, and she arched up, her eyelids fluttering beneath lush, dark lashes so perfectly made up, so perfectly prepared to meet her lover.

La petite mort,” he said. “It’s what we all long for, isn’t it, my sweetheart, over and over and over again, we long for it. It’s what we dream about in the darkest hours of the night. It’s what we wake up longing for, goose fleshed, slick and heavy with need from those elusive dreams of perfect love, perfect union, perfect dissolving of the self into the other. Oh, my beauty,” he slid a hand between her thighs, and her tongue flicked over her lip in concentration, in anticipation, “I’ve kept you waiting too long. I do apologize. La petite mort is a small gift for a long wait. So tonight, my dearest girl, I shall give you something far grander than the little death. And our joining, our perfect dissolving into one another, will be beyond anything you could ever imagine.”

He positioned himself above her and she opened to him, rising up to meet him in gasps and groans and whimpers that neared desperation. Oh yes, he would give her so much more than la petite mort, and then, in the instant when her body dissolved in pleasure, he would take it all back, all of it and so much more.

There was breath and then there was blood, and there was the life force coursing through the beautiful Gabriella. That life force entered his body through sex, through making love. And truly he did make love, for the gift that the lovely creature writhing beneath him, no longer strong enough to keep her legs grasped around his waist, was giving him was worthy of lovemaking. The taking of the life force in such a way was sex raised above and beyond ecstasy. He seldom partook to the end. He usually made it last for months, sometimes even years, depending on how powerful the life force was.

But Gabriella had no particular power, nothing but her exquisite beauty to linger on. He saw such as her as fast food, really, a needed energy boost in desperate times, and this was one of those times. Her sacrifice would ensure that he was focused and ready for whatever obstacles Graves could throw in his way where Samantha Black was concerned, because he would have her. He had to have her.

The woman beneath him shuddered with release, and he took her mouth more fully, swallowing back the harshness of her breath to blend with his own, teasing him to join in her ecstasy. She would climax over and over, and that would be her final memory. She would come to her death in rapturous pleasure, and she would not even feel that moment when all of her breath, all of her life force, all of her power, passed to him, and the darkness took her.

Her eyelids fluttered again and again, for now she truly had not the energy left for more than the flutter of eyelids above huge, dark eyes. Even the quiver low in her loins had transferred itself to him, and he felt her orgasms as though they were his own, as though through the breath, through the coupling, he had become her and she him. He had taken her into himself as she had him into her, so open, so inviting, so willing.

“You see,” he whispered against the seashell hollow of her unhearing ear, “I have given you so much more than la petite mort, just as I promised, darling. So much more for both of us.”

*****

Author Bio:

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, K D Grace believes Freud was right. It really IS all about sex—sex and love—and that is an absolute writer’s playground.

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. Her creativity is directly proportional to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology, which inspires many of her stories. She enjoys time in the gym, where she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. Her first love is writing, but she loves reading and watching birds. She adores anything that gets her outdoors.

K D’s novels and other works are published by Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Accent Press, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, and others. She also writes romance under the name Grace Marshall.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/kdnewsletter

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Last Opportunity to Bag These Boxed Sets! #mm #gay #romance

Hi everyone,

Pinch, punch, first of the month! Hehe, can you tell I’m excited?! Not because it’s December, but more because for those of you that don’t follow me on social media, or might have missed it – I not only “won” NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) by writing 50,000 words in a month, I also finished a novel. More on that soon!

Anyway, I’m just writing to let you know that, sadly, this is the last month that you will be able to get your mitts on the Brit Boys: On Boys and Brit Boys: With Toys boxed sets. So if you love hot M/M action and romance, especially if it’s a bargain, then you should grab them ASAP, because after the 31st December, they will be no more.

Here’s a reminder of what they’re about:

Brit Boys: On Boys

From east to west and north to south, these British boys are having a blast in and out of the bedroom with the men of their dreams. They’re topping and bottoming from London to Cardiff, living out fantasies in the wildest fells and hooking up while serving HRH Queen Elizabeth II.

With passion and lust the name of the game, nothing is off limits. Throw in honed muscles, high-strength testosterone and an accent to die for and there is nothing they can’t do and no one they can’t get in this world or another.

Don’t miss Brit Boys: On Boys—a smokin’ hot box set, containing 147,000 words/440 pages of unforgettable M/M erotic romance from eight popular British authors.

Grab your copy here: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/brit-boys-on-boys/

Brit Boys: With Toys

From coast to coast and city to country Brit boys enjoy playing with each other and their toys. Not any old toys, though; guitars, rope, plugs and Moleskine journals all prove to be enormous fun. Throw in a shop that’s wall to wall with kinky ideas, a journalist on the lookout for the next big thing, and Dominants who insist on obedience and there’s sure to be something to cater for everyone’s taste.

Whether it’s a quickie or a slow indulgence, Brit boys know how to hit the spot and they aim to please every time. So take a ride, fly high, come enjoy these sexy boys and their toys.

Grab your copy here: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/brit-boys-toys/

Happy Reading!

Lucy x

Out Now—New Urban Fantasy Novel, Blindsided, by K D Grace (@kd_grace)

BlindsidedBlurb:

Book two in the Medusa’s Consortium series.

In New York City, away from those she loves, living with the enigmatic vampire, Desiree Fielding, Susan Innes struggles to come to terms with life as a vampire whose body serves as the prison for a deadly demon.

When Reese Chambers arrives unexpectedly from England, desperate for her help, she discovers that Alonso Darlington, his lover and her maker, has been taken captive and Reese has been warned to tell no one but her. Before the two can make a plan, Susan receives her own message from a man calling himself just Cyrus. He not only holds her maker prisoner, but also her lover, the angel Michael. If she wishes to see either of them alive, she’ll come to him and not tell Magda Gardener, the woman they all work for and fear.

With no help coming from Magda or her Consortium, Susan and Reese must turn to the Guardian – the terrifying demon now imprisoned in her body. He alone can help them, but how can she possibly trust him after all he’s done?

Available from:
Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/blindsidedmc
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2x7nAUk
iBooks: http://apple.co/2xstDT8
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wpvd8O
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2y8RB2I

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36233244-blindsided

*****

Excerpt:

It was a dark place where she found him, with walls so high only a small patch of starlight was visible above, but she was a vampire now. She didn’t need the light, and he, well he had never needed the light, had he? He stood naked with his back to her. He was broad of shoulder. There were white scars like latticework across muscles stretched taut over his shoulder blades. At first she thought they were from a whip, but as she drew nearer, she saw that they were more geometric in form, as though perhaps they were some sort of ancient ceremonial writing. She traced the shapes of them with the tips of her fingers, and his muscles rippled with the sensation. With a start she realized she’d never seen his body before.

“That is because I have none,” came his reply. “Only in dreams can I wear the flesh of my choosing.”

“You’ve worn flesh often enough. I would have thought it was always of your choosing,” she said, making no effort to hide her bitterness.

“It was not my own, though. That pleasure, I have never known.”

“Only in dreams, you say. Then this is a dream.”

“You know that it is.” He didn’t turn to face her but leaned toward her, and she slipped her arms around him and rested her head on the flat of his back. His belly tensed at the touch of her hands, and he caught his breath in a soft moan. “Touch is what I longed for most,” he said. “I thought the lack of it would drive me insane while I languished in my previous prison. But here, with you, I’m closer to touch than I would have thought possible. I do not mind it, you know. It is no hardship to be nestled inside you, close to your heart.”

She released him and took in their surroundings once more. “This is the place I’ve created for you?”

He pulled her arms back around him and sighed with contentment as she laid her head against him once more. “This is how I have decorated. The place you created for me was only the shape of myself, both boundless and infinitesimal. Oh, it did not matter. I could see through your eyes, feel through your flesh, even though it no longer lived as it once did, even though you never spoke to me. I hoped that someday you would.”

“And when I refuse, you come uninvited into my dreams?”

“All dreams are uninvited, Susan, and perhaps this time it is you who have come uninvited into my dream.”

She thought about that for a moment. Was it even possible to visit the dreams of a demon? Did demons even have dreams?

“Susan?”

“Yes?”

“If I had come to you more gently, if I had courted you and companioned you and been patient with you in the ways of your world, would you have loved me?”

“You never gave me that chance.”

*****

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, K D Grace believes Freud was right. It really IS all about sex—sex and love—and that is an absolute writer’s playground.

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. Her creativity is directly proportional to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology, which inspires many of her stories. She enjoys time in the gym, where she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. Her first love is writing, but she loves reading and watching birds. She adores anything that gets her outdoors.

K D’s novels and other works are published by Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Accent Press, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, and others. She also writes romance under the name Grace Marshall.

Find K D Here:                    

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/kdnewsletter

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Sexy Just Got Kinky is On Sale – Just 99c! #sale #99c #99p #LPRTG #SSRTG

Hi everyone,

Amazing news – the Brit Babes anthology, Sexy Just Got Kinky, is currently on sale for just 99c/p. But be quick – the sale ends this Friday!

Here’s a reminder of what it’s all about:

Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage, there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your fancies and heat up cold nights.

So, what are you waiting for? Grab your copy quick, and please tell all your friends!
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Amazon DE
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

Mid Week Tease: “I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to work.” #MWTease

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease! I’m sharing another excerpt from my M/F hot contemporary romance novella, Fast Lust, from the British Bad Boys Boxed Set. This follows on directly from last week’s tease. The set is available to read in Kindle Unlimited, or to buy from Amazon – but only until the 11th August. So if you haven’t checked it out yet and want to – don’t delay! This will probably also be my last tease from this book – I’ll be sharing something new next week.

British Bad Boys Boxed SetThis time, she didn’t miss the opportunity to glare at him. Much to her annoyance, he didn’t wilt beneath its power. “You know damn well what I meant. Christ, are you always such a smart arse?”

“Yes,” he said simply, throwing her completely off-kilter. The mischievous twinkle in his eye did nothing to dispel that sensation, either. He was managing to be unnerving, irritating and attractive all at once—which just annoyed her even more. She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or snog him.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Reaching into her bag, she then pulled out her smart phone and fired up the dictation app. “You’re okay with me recording this, right? We’ll cover a lot more ground, much quicker, if I don’t have to take notes.”

Rafe gave a casual shrug, as though he really didn’t give a shit—about the recording, about the interview, or about her. “Fine by me.”

“Great.” She forced her lips to form a smile, when what she really wanted to do was grimace. Or drop her head into her hands with despair. God, he was going to be hard work, she just knew it. His story had better be bloody well worth it. She pressed the ‘record’ button and shifted her gaze to meet his. The quiet intensity in his eyes nearly caused her to stumble at the first hurdle, before she’d even spoken, but she managed to hold it together—barely. “So! Thank you, Rafe Donovan, for agreeing to speak with me. Can you tell me about yourself, please? A bio, if you like. A bit of background I can pull on for people that have never heard of you.”

“Like you, you mean?” he replied, quirking an eyebrow.

Well, fuck. He got the measure of me quickly. “We’re not here to talk about me, Rafe,” she said sweetly, desperate to turn the focus back on to him. “I’m writing a sports column, so please tell me all the things my readers will want to hear about. Start with the basics.”

He huffed out a heavy breath. “All right, all right. God, you’re no fun, Gloria.”

“I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to work.”

Get your copy of British Bad Boys Boxed Set here: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/british-bad-boys/

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