Paranormal Romance · Sharing The Love

Sharing The Love

with Christina Lynn Lambert

Featuring her novel Bear’s Dream: Haven Forest Resort Book 1 

Welcome to Sharing The Love, Christina Lynn Lambert!

Have you ever been mistaken for someone famous?

Never. When I’m dressed up nicely, I usually get told I look like a librarian. I prefer T shirts, jeans, and boots. I have perfected the “don’t bother me” expression and typically get left alone to go on about my merry way.

What animal would you chose to be?

I would be a leopard so I could run fast, jump, and climb trees.

What is your favourite strange food combination?

I love to dip French fries in chocolate milkshakes. Also, I put ranch dressing on pizza and pretty much everything else.

You have to sing karaoke, what song do you pick?

Touch of Gray by the Grateful Dead. It’s been one of my favorite songs since I was in high school.

Does music inspire your writing at all?

Yes, definitely. Sometimes a song really describes the mood of a scene and I write it into the story. I listen to music often when I write. The sound helps me focus.

About The Book

She had every reason to hate him.

Aiden “AJ” Shepherd’s mistake during a Shifter Army Enforcement rescue mission cost Ellie Ortiz’s brother, Marco, his life. Ellie hates AJ with a burning passion until a chance encounter with him on New Year’s Eve reveals he’s not the cold, heartless man she once thought him to be. Her attraction to him takes her by surprise, and she vows to ignore her feelings. When a new job puts her in contact with him every day, the heat building between them threatens to flare out of control. Her resolve to keep the sweet, sexy man in the friend zone is weakening by the day.

He’s convinced she’s his mate, but a secret could ruin everything.

Whether they’re fighting off fanatics who target shifters or working together to get his shifter resort, Haven Forest, ready for the grand opening, AJ can’t get enough of Ellie. Convincing her to give him a chance, more than the one-night-of-fun idea she’s proposed, might be impossible, but he’s fallen too hard for her not to try. During a disastrous assignment with Shifters United, AJ uncovers some information that changes everything. Keeping the secret from Ellie is killing him but he might lose her forever if he tells her the truth.

When Ellie ends up at the heart of a reporter’s plot to prove the existence of shifters, she and AJ must fight their way to freedom. The survival of shifters everywhere depends on it.

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Steamy, Suspenseful Romance

Length: Novel


AJ held on to the door, shocked, nearly certain Ellie could be his mate, and there was nothing he could do about it because when she left Willow Hill, she’d be lost to him, forever.

“Bye, Ellie. Take care.”

“You, too.” Her sad brown eyes shone with a hint of tears but held no promise of a possible future for them.

“If you ever need me”—he cleared his throat— “I mean, if you ever need anything, you have my number.”

She nodded and closed her car door. He wanted to exist in some alternate reality where the reason for Ellie’s sadness was because they were both going their separate ways, and the only way to fix the tears threatening to spill from her eyes would be to sit down in the car next to her. They could spend the whole ride back to her house talking like they had before about music and career plans and favorite foods. But in this reality, Ellie didn’t want him. She’d made a mistake in the heat of the moment, kissing him. He knew she regretted the kiss, even if she was kind enough not to say it out loud. He watched her leave the parking deck and drive out of sight. Forgetting her was going to be impossible

Buy It Now:

Amazon (US)

Amazon (AU)

Amazon (UK)

About The Author

Before I had the wild idea to write a book, I worked in a few different fields. I was in sales for a while, and after I finished college, I worked as a case manager. When my children were little, I was a personal trainer and running coach. During the evenings, when I was supposed to be studying for another fitness training certification, I started writing a story. Finally, I gave in and acknowledged that writing is what I’m meant to do. I love creating imperfect but determined characters who find the courage to love and the strength to survive in a world where there are no guarantees. My stories include a fair amount of sarcasm, suspense, steam, and violence. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time outside and finding ways to avoid cooking. I live in beautiful Virginia with my husband, two daughters, a sweet, hairy monster of a dog, and two devious cats.


Amazon Author Page







Contemporary Romance · Sharing The Love

Sharing The Love

with J.L. Regen

Featuring her novel Secret Desires 

Welcome to Sharing The Love, J.L. Regen!

If you could time travel, where would you go and when? Why?

I’d go to Italy in 1940 so I could see all of the work that my uncle, a medic, did to help soldiers mend to fight the good fight. He was my role model of what a man should be. He never talked about the “war “years.

How many languages can you speak?

I’m fluent in Spanish and French and can get by in German. I have a smattering of Japanese.

What was the last song you listened to?

Toyland. I became so nostalgic for my darling mother who has passed on. She made my childhood years special. I disagree that once you’ve reached its borders, you can never return again. You can see it through the eyes of little ones, as I do with my first and second graders.

What animal would you choose to be?

A thoroughbred horse. I ride when I have time. They are the noblest animal on earth.

If you’ve ever met a celebrity, describe that encounter.

It was the late Tony Randall. He was charming and funny and down to earth.

What was the first book that made you cry?

Charlotte’s Web. I was devastated as a child when Charlotte died. As an adult, I realize that it was so a new cycle of life could be born. Still, I wanted her to live.

About The Book

A Contemporary Romance From The Heart

Nothing in Margo Simmons’s life comes easy. She can’t claim the inheritance on a condo apartment her uncle has left to her until she is gainfully employed in a job for a year. She meets the man of her dreams but anguishes over a loving relationship because he is still emotionally tied to his deceased wife. With great difficulty, she becomes the guardian to a recently orphaned child she had been tutoring.   Margo evolves from an insecure, newbie elementary teacher into a woman determined to fulfill the secret desires locked in her heart.

This story speaks to anyone who has suffered a loss and had to start over.

Genre: Contemporary romance

Length: Novel


MARGO SIMMONS GRIPPED THE EDGES of the leather chair, waiting for details from the family lawyer about her Uncle Harry’s death. She hoped it would be shorter and less painful than the reading of her father’s will.

An older gentleman extended his hand. “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be here.”

Margo looked up from her reflections to acknowledge him. “Thanks, Mr. Steinberg.”

“You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”

Margo blinked back tears at memories of good times shared with Uncle Harry. “Not so young. I’m twenty-three.”

The portly man squeezed himself into a swivel chair and peered at her over wire-rimmed bifocals. “I’m ancient compared to that number.”

Margo gripped her knees to steady her nerves. “My mother wanted to come with me, but they’re downsizing at her dress shop. She was afraid to leave early. My stepfather is furious because Uncle Harry didn’t leave him any money.”

Mr. Steinberg saddened at the sorrowful expression on the young woman’s face. “It pains me to hear Jerry hasn’t changed his ways. However, since you’re the only one present to hear your uncle’s will, I’ll get to the point. Harry has left you his Riverside Drive condominium apartment and the sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Margo jumped up from the chair and hugged the man. “This is a miracle. I can’t wait to tell my Mom. She’s wanted me to get out on my own. Now I can. Though I wish it hadn’t come with the loss of my uncle. I adored him.”

The attorney pushed bifocals up his fleshy nose. “I know you did, my dear. He spoke of you often, with fondness. As to your inheritance, in today’s market two hundred and fifty thousand dollars won’t last long unless invested wisely.”

The only thing Margo knew about investments was she didn’t have enough money to make any. “Mr. Steinberg, can you refer me to someone who can advise

me so I make wise investments?”

He raised his hand. “Not so fast my dear. Your uncle stipulated that you be gainfully employed for a year before you can claim your inheritance. The last time your mother and I spoke, you were studying to be a French teacher.”

Margo stared at the vibrant red dragon design on an Oriental rug and thought of the threadbare one under her rickety dining room table. Her eyes darted from the lawyer’s monogrammed attaché case to her worn shoulder strap bag.

She swallowed a lump of pride. “I’ve been looking for a teaching job for two years, but I’m on the substitute list and have a part-time job at a dry cleaner so I’m employed. I know it’s not a professional job, but it’s respectable work.”

Mr. Steinberg made notes in her uncle’s folder. “I’m afraid that won’t do, my dear. Harry loved you but was very clear on the type of employment.”

A tear rolled down Margo’s cheek. “I don’t know how much longer I can live at home. Mama is working twice as hard since Jerry was laid off from his job at the newspaper. He couldn’t get the hang of technology. He’s been on disability from an old back injury. Could I speak to an investment counsellor to get an idea of what to do with my inheritance? It would give me something to strive for.”

Margo sat on her hands as she waited for the lawyer’s response.

Buy It Now:

Amazon (US)

Amazon (AU)

Barnes & Noble

About The Author

JL lives in the New York metropolitan area, is a published photojournalist, has short suspense stories online, and has taught special education and English as a Second Language to students around the globe. This is her first contemporary romance. She has also published three nonfiction books.

JLR holds a Master of Science in Business, Medical, and Technical Journalism as well as two others in ESL and Education. She has published on a variety of topics from cochlear implants to the economy and has conducted workshops –domestic and foreign–on the nuances of business communications for managers and start-up companies. She is the leader of her own enterprise with training programs for entrepreneurs–all levels and recently published two books–Jamie is Autistic: Learning in a Special Way and Go for It Leadership Handbook for All Students.


Amazon Author Page

Blog Hopping

“It’s My New Favourite” #MFRWHooks #MFRWsteam #MFRWauthor #MFRWorg

A Steam Hop Post

Instead of the Book Hooks train, I’m climbing on board the Steam Hop this month. Here you’ll find a steamy teaser (this one’s a solid M rating) from You Can’t Hurry Love and, beneath that, links to other awesome writers’ spicy stuff!

To set the scene: Charlie and Sara, whose animosity has faded, have just been subtly flirting with each other over dinner, and Charlie’s followed Sara to the bathrooms to confront her about how brazen she’s been (as he still assumes she’d never actually want him).

Steamy Excerpt:

“Why?” she echoed, incredulous. “You need to ask why a woman would be throwing herself at you?”

“Under normal circumstances, no…” he pulled out of her space a fraction to scratch the back of his neck. “But it’s you.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks reddened and her expression was once again guarded, and he realised too late that she had misinterpreted his words.

“No, wait!” He prevented her from abandoning the conversation by planting his hands on either side of her. However, despite the brutish action of practically boxing her in place, his words were soft and vulnerable. “I just meant…well, I didn’t think you’d be interested in me, considering our history.”

It was her turn to search his gaze for honesty. After a few moments, she rolled her eyes and reeled him in by his tie. “You’re an idiot,” she declared, before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

He could taste the remnants of the last sips of her wine as their tongues met, and he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, his hands slipping from the wall to travel down her sides, landing at her hips. Immediately, he recalled the feel of her hand on his thigh, taunting him, and he pressed the evidence of his growing arousal into her, causing her to gasp.

She took control, sidestepping and fumblingly guiding them towards the accessible bathroom. They parted as she got the door open and they tumbled inside the tiled room, shutting and locking the door behind them. Then she was on him again, mouthing at his neck, up near his ear, while her nimble, long fingers moved to his belt buckle.

“You…in this suit…” Sara murmured against his neck, her ‘s’s turning sibilant with her whispering, “so hot. You need to wear suits more often.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” he agreed, now taking fistfuls of the material of her dress –thankfully stretchy and flexible– on either side of her hips, pulling it upwards.

Charlie didn’t stop to think too hard on where they were or what they were doing, or that someone in their party might come looking for them if they were gone too long. He was far too invested in pursuing this completely unexpected side of Sara and their connection. He hadn’t felt chemistry like this with anyone in years.

And now was certainly not the time to ponder whether his subconscious had been ahead of the program, or if that might have been a contributing factor to his less than stellar love life.

Having unbuckled his belt, she’d moved on to popping the button above his fly, and it wasn’t long before his pants were completely undone and around his ankles.

At least the tiles at his feet were clean. Thank God this was an upscale restaurant and not some dingy pub!

“Well, hello,” she purred, wrapping her hand around his still clothed erection. He sucked in a breath. “You know, if your brother is half as gifted in this department as you are, I can see why Gemma’s always so keen to spend time with him.”

He snorted, squeezing the top of her ass beneath his fistfuls of fabric. “Could we not mention my brother or his cock right now? You’re kind of killing the mood here, love.”

She rolled her eyes, undeterred. “I was giving you a compliment.”

He decided he wasn’t going to belabor the point. Not with her hand wrapped around him, stroking him through his boxer briefs. Instead, he dipped his head, muttering, “You’re a bloody tease,” with warmth before their lips reconnected. He wanted to complain when her hand released him, but she brought both of her arms around his neck as the kiss intensified.

Knowing they had limited time, he shuffled her towards the basin, thanking as many deities as he could imagine that there was a proper built-in marble vanity unit on the wall instead of a plain sink. Another upside to being in a posh restaurant. 

Sara squealed into his mouth as he lifted her with ease and set her down on the bench. “It’s cold,” she complained as he hushed her.

Arching an eyebrow, he released the bunched-up material of her dress and slid his hands under her to encounter smooth skin.

“No underwear?” he asked in a voice tighter than he’d have liked. 

She smirked. “G-string. This dress clings a bit.”

Biting back a groan of appreciation, Charlie nodded, “I’d noticed.” He slipped his hands further under her, squeezing as he shifted his hips forward, “It’s my new favourite.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” she echoed his earlier words back at him, drawing her arms back down from around his neck to tug at the band of his underwear, releasing him completely. 

He retaliated by bringing his right hand around to slide aside the tiny scrap of lace masquerading as the front of her panties. He was beyond delighted to find her wet for him, and eagerly slid two fingers inside her, eliciting a moan that reverberated off the tiles surrounding them.

He chuckled. “Shush, or we’ll be caught.”

Charlie couldn’t help but feel like a teenager as he said the words. This wasn’t like anything he’d done before. Generally, he was rather straitlaced. Rhett had been the scoundrel, and he’d been the ‘by the book’ kid. The thrill of potentially getting caught was an aphrodisiac on its own.


If this has you needing more, you can read You Can’t Hurry Love for FREE on Kindle Unlimited or buy the ebook from Amazon. The paperback is available in a few more places, too. will take you to all of them.

Also, the ebook for my FIRST novel, Handle With Care, is available, too, or you can pick it up for FREE by signing up to my newsletter:

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Contemporary Romance · Novella · Sharing The Love

Sharing The Love

with Amber Daulton

Featuring her novella A Hero’s Heart

Welcome to Sharing The Love, Amber Daulton!

Hi, everyone. I’m excited to be on Anita’s blog. I’m Amber Daulton, author of the smokin’ hot romantic suspense series, Arresting Onyx, and several standalone novellas. Today, I’m sharing one of my earlier works that I’ve recently revised and given a cover makeover. A Hero’s Heart is a hot romantic suspense novella featuring a down-on-his-luck DEA agent and a sassy, widowed mom who happens to be his ex. Sparks fly when they finally reunite, but not everything is going to be roses for this couple. Their problems are only just beginning…

About The Book

Rekindling the flames of love has never burned so hot.

Lies. Betrayal. A blown undercover mission.

After ten years away, DEA agent Jarrett Brandt heads home to pay his respects to his deceased brother and hide out from the cartel kingpin who wants him dead. The last thing he needs is Marissa, his high school sweetheart, tempting him with her sassy smile and showing him the life he gave up. Add on his judgmental parents, and he’s ready to hit the road.

Widowed mom Marissa Reinn never had much luck with the Brandt boys. First Jarrett broke her heart, then she lost his brother—her husband—to a bullet. Vowing to uncover Jarrett’s secrets, she succumbs to the passion still burning between them instead.

When a team of assassins find him, Jarrett and Marissa will have to work together to survive and protect her son. How will they seize their second chance at love with their lives on the line?

Genre: Contemporary Romance, Second-chance Romance, Romantic Suspense

Length: Novella


“You can trust me, Jarrett. I won’t tell your parents anything you don’t want me to.” She sighed and stood as well. “You used to tell me everything. We never kept secrets.”

Jarrett paced between the coffee table and fireplace. “My parents’ opinion doesn’t matter. Dad would still throw up my juvie record or the fact that I’m not a cop, even if I was a model citizen. I’m not that lost, angry kid anymore. I know who I am now, and it’s not someone you’d want to know.”

“I disagree.”

“God, you don’t understand. Marissa, I’ve missed you so damn much. I’ve laid awake so many nights wondering what my life would’ve been like if I’d stayed here.” When he made love to other women, he imagined Marissa beneath him or above him, panting his name. When the nightmares of blood and gore faded, he dreamed of her. Those bittersweet memories and what if scenarios were almost worse than the nightmares. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

“I hated you after you left, but I’ve gotten over it. Everyone feels regret and guilt over something. It’s all about being human.” She dashed away her tears. “I told you mine last night. Will you please show me the same courtesy?”

“I can’t.”

“At least tell me what you did last Christmas. Jason made it crystal clear that he didn’t want you alone. He wants you to have a tree.” She pointed at the Douglas fir. “Well, there you go. What did you do last year?”

Jarrett licked his dry lips, heat swelling in his cheeks.

He’d joined the Consuelo gang last December and spent the holiday in a slummy apartment with five thugs who sold cocaine on the streets of Albuquerque. Living around his drug of choice had nearly destroyed him.

“What about your last birthday?” Marissa blocked his path and braced her hands on her hips. “Did you have cake or go out with a bunch of buddies and get drunk? Did something horrible happen? Why won’t you tell me anything?”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Marissa. Yeah, I got drunk. A few of us went to a strip club where I fucked two dancers in a backroom. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Her eyes widened as she stepped back.

Way to go, you fucking idiot. He brushed his shaky hands on his button-down shirt to steady them. “Marissa—”

She strode past him with a high head and left the room. Her cold shoulder skewered him, but he didn’t deserve better.

Buy It Now:


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Google Play

Universal link

About The Author

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through Daulton Publishing, The Wild Rose Press, and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.


Universal link – to all of Amber’s Social Media & websites

A Hero’s Heart can also be found on the Loved-up Library HERE

Thoughts About Writing

TikTok…Tick Tock

I am getting old. 

There. I said it. 

I’ve finally reached the point where new technology confuses and scares me. I have officially become THAT PERSON. (Note that I very diplomatically did not write “I have become my mother.” Also: sorry Mum.)

How have I discovered this? I have given in and joined TikTok. 

I’ve posted a few little TikToks now. I’m slowly getting a handle on what I can do…though I keep reading about ‘the algorithm’ like it’s some sort of boogeyman and, in various Facebook groups, have been warned not to confuse it or I’ll have to start all over again from scratch. So this already daunting thing has become even more daunting. 

And, you know, just because I’m a writer doesn’t mean I’m creative enough to come up with content and post three times a day. Additionally, I don’t want to bomb people with my books in every post, but there’s only so much I can talk about what inspires me, too. I’m happy to collab with other authors, but I have no idea where to start. (Send help!)

I am watching what other authors are doing. I’m not afraid of humiliating myself (I do it on the daily anyway, haha), but I also want to be genuine and stick with who I am. However, who I am happens to be an aging introvert pretending to be extroverted…who has no idea what she’s doing.

I can literally feel the clock ticking away above my head. The building sense of urgency to put myself out there and get noticed is at war with my fear of failure. But there’s no success in not trying, either. I know this. I do.

Still, TikTok terrifies me like nothing else I’ve ever come across. It’s different. And demanding. And confronting. 

And trendy.

I’ve never been trendy.

I think the fact that I use the word ‘trendy’ is proof of that.

But I’m going to persevere. I’m even starting to have a little fun with it. Video editing has never been my strong suit -and, even though I’m a marriage celebrant, talking in front of a camera about myself and my life is waaaay out of my comfort zone- but playing with sounds and text and stickers is actually a bit addictive. I’ve also discovered photo morphs and it might have created a monster.

So, while I had no intention to turn this post into an ad, if you’re interested in following me, the link is:

I’m geeky. I’m silly. I’m aging and I’m still learning. But maybe -just maybe- the ticking clock above my head isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Erotic Fantasy · Sharing The Love

Sharing More Love

with Lisabet Sarai

Featuring her novella Alex in Tittyland: An Irreverent Erotic Fantasy 

Welcome back to Sharing The Love, Lisabet Sarai! Just a quick intro today:

The book, Alex in Tittyland: An Irreverent Erotic Fantasy, is a rather silly over-the-top erotica title, not my usual at all. I wrote it to cheer up a young friend of mine who’s facing some major physical challenges.

About The Book

Wonderland? Or wet dream?

When you’re up to your armpits in hot babes, it can be hard to tell the difference!

Alex’s life looks bleak. His basketball scholarship’s been canceled due to Covid and his foxy California girlfriend has dumped him. Now he’s stuck in Baltimore, living with his mother and working the night shift at the Shake ‘n Shop mini-mart. He’s sure he’s going to lose even that crappy job when a curvy customer in a rabbit mask takes off without paying.

Racing to catch her, he tumbles into a world of wonders, where sex organs grow on trees and horny women fawn over his endowments. Always the gentleman, Alex does his best to satisfy the lascivious inhabitants of Tittyland, even as he searches for the delectable rabbit-girl. But his quest leads him into the clutches of the sadistic and insatiable Queen of Hearts, who’s determined to first drain, then decapitate him. Maybe Baltimore was better after all!

Genre: Erotic Fantasy. Happy Ending!

Length: 21,000 words

Rating/Heat Level: Explicit. Mature Audiences Only. 5 Flames.


A bell chimed as someone opened the door, dragging him back to the here and now. “Welcome to Shake ‘n Shop!” he called out, though he couldn’t yet make out who had entered. The counter was piled high with all sorts of crap – candy and condoms, cheap phone accessories and expensive flavored water. He rose from the plastic stool where he’d been perched and craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the new customer.

His breath caught and his dick swelled when he did. As if she sensed his attention, she looked up from the display of salty, sugary snacks she’d been contemplating and gave him a saucy nod.

She was blonde and tiny, less than five feet tall he guessed, despite the heeled, knee-high purple boots that encased her shapely calves. Above her knees her thighs were bare, the pale skin gleaming in the fluorescent lights. Her skirt – if you could use that term for a garment so brief – was pink trimmed with white fur and did nothing to hide her generous ass. A matching halter top barely contained her bountiful tits and exposed her midriff. She must be freezing, but he saw no sign of goose bumps dotting the smooth expanse of her belly. In something like a trance, Alex noted a heart-shaped birth mark deep in her cleavage, and another, shaped like a diamond, on her naked right shoulder.

As for her face – well, you couldn’t see much of it, because of course she wore a mask – a mask that included an appliquéd pink nose with white whiskers bristling on either side. Meanwhile, a pair of elongated ears sprouted from her champagne-pale curls, furry-white lined with pink satin. Most bizarre of all, her eyes seemed to be a matching pink.

Weird contacts they have these days, Alex thought, trying to gain control of his bodily reactions. In that crazy, minimalist get-up she was ridiculously alluring. His cock swelled to enormous proportions in his loose jeans, steely and demanding, as if he hadn’t beaten off twice that morning.

“Can I help you – miss?” he managed to stammer as she grabbed bags of corn puffs, pretzels and chips and tossed them on the counter.

“Ring these up,” she responded, giving him a once-over that made him harder than ever. “Give me a pint of Johnnie Walker, too.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll need some ID…”

She pulled open the V of her top to expose her monumental jugs, giving him a clear view of the thick, pink nipples. “Do these look underage to you?” He couldn’t see her mouth behind the mask but her eyes smiled. “Just ‘cause I’m small doesn’t mean I’m young. Now get me my whisky, like a good little boy.”

Alex was so dumb-founded by her lush flesh that he didn’t even notice the insult. In a horny daze, he reached up to get the booze down from the shelf behind him. As he turned back to his bizarre customer, her phone chirped.

The girl – or woman – gave a cry of alarm as she studied the screen. “Oh, dear! By my ears and whiskers, I had no idea I was so late! She’ll have my head! Gotta go!” She stuffed the snacks in the satchel slung over her shoulder, then snatched the bottle out of Alex’s hand. “Sorry – I’m late!” she called back at him, already headed for the door. “Hey!” he called. “Wait! You can’t just waltz out without paying…” But the strange creature was already gone, leaving him with a legendary hard-on and the certain knowledge his boss would have his ass.

Buy It Now:

Kinky Literature

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon AU

Barnes & Noble




About The Author

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 – more than 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 (, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Bookbub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list and get a free ebook, plus exclusive contents and other benefits:


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Blog Hopping

WIP it. WIP it Good. #MFRWHooks #MFRWauthor #MFRWorg

A Book Hooks Blog Hop Post

I loved my ride on the Book Hooks train (hosted by the wonderful MFRW blog) so much that I’m doing it again. This time I’m sharing a completely unedited section of an untitled WIP, and I’m still linking you up with some posts written by some other awesome romance authors.

So, the below excerpt is taken from a short steamy contemporary romance piece I’ve been working on.

To set the scene: MFC (Frankie) was locked out of her apartment and the neighbour’s kid, Zephyr, produced a lock-pick set and let her in… then stuck around and had dinner while his Dad was at work. That’s where this next bit picks up.


“Dad!” The kid pushed his chair back and raced through the living room and down the short hallway. Frankie followed him, wanting to make sure he wasn’t going to get into trouble. Zephyr swung her front door open at the same time as a man exited the apartment next door.

“Zephyr Martin Hollows!” The man -tall, dark haired and dark eyed, with a matching dark beard- reprimanded, his concern and fear palpable. He stormed towards them, and Frankie swallowed convulsively. 

Zephyr’s dad was hot

As he neared, she could see streaks of silver around his temples and in his beard, and laugh lines creased the skin beside his dark brown eyes. He wore fitted jeans and a red plaid shirt across broad shoulders, fulfilling any number of lumberjack fantasies she might secretly harbour. 

“Dad!” Zephyr shot forward, throwing his arms around the man’s waist. 

“What the hell, Zee?” 

Oh, God, he’s got an accent, too. Frankie felt her knees go weak. American? It explained referring to Zephyr as ‘Zee’ instead of ‘Zed’, really. 

“Sorry, Dad, I-“

“I was so worried.”

Canadian, Frankie decided, with the way the man drew out his ‘o’s giving him away. 

Zephyr nodded and squeezed his dad tighter, before he gestured back in Frankie’s direction. “I know. I’m sorry, but Frankie was locked out and then she made me dinner to thank me for letting her in.”

Her mouth went dry as Zephyr’s father finally noticed her. He narrowed his gaze and looked her up and down, and she felt as though she was coming up lacking in his estimation. Her face was free of makeup, she was wearing her casual Friday getup of faded jeans and a polo shirt, and her red hair was currently untamed around her face.

Still, she cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. “Frankie Jessop,” she introduced herself, exhaling in relief as he took her hand and gave it a shake. She was most certainly not focusing on how warm his palm felt against hers, or wondering about the calluses on his skin. “And I’d still be sitting on the floor outside my door if Zephyr hadn’t found me. You should be proud. He’s a good kid…and somehow insanely skilled with a lockpick.”

The hard expression on the guy’s face smoothed out a little, only to be replaced by exasperation. He shifted to look at his son. “You know you’re not allowed to use my kits, Zee.” Turning back to Frankie, he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in the tight curls. “Brett Hollows,” he introduced himself, sounding chagrined, “and I’m not a criminal, if you’re wondering why I’ve got those tools just lying around. I’m a locksmith.”

She couldn’t help the burst of near hysterical laughter that escaped her. “Sorry,” she brushed away a couple of tears of laughter. “Earlier tonight I wasn’t sure I’d find one locksmith. Fate’s just given me two.”


While the above is still a Work In Progress, you can read my latest novel You Can’t Hurry Love for FREE on Kindle Unlimited or, for a limited time, buy the ebook for $0.99 USD/CAD/AUD from Amazon. The paperback is available in a few more places, too. will take you to all of them.

Also, the ebook for my FIRST novel, Handle With Care, is on sale at the moment at Amazon for $0.99, too, or you can pick it up for FREE by signing up to my newsletter:

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Contemporary Romance · Dark Romance · Sharing The Love

Sharing The Love

with Melverna McFarlane

Featuring her novel Inevitable 

Welcome to Sharing The Love, Melverna McFarlane!

If you were a potato, what way would you like to be cooked?

I would be twice cooked. First, mashed with garlic, cream, and butter. Second, deep fried in duck fat. This way represents my complicated nature, crispy on the outside while soft and melt on your tongue on the inside.

What animal would you chose to be?

My favorite animal has always been the tiger, fierce and independent, but with a playful streak when you get me in the right mood.

Where did you grow up?

I grew up along the East Coast of America: New York, Pennsylvania, Florida, and Delaware. When people hear that, their first question was if my family was in the military, but that wasn’t the case. We emigrated to America and my parents went where the opportunities were. I spent the majority of my life in Philadelphia and it still holds a warm place in my heart.

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

I am a pantser, meaning I don’t know what I am writing until I begin to write. The most preparation I do is to figure out an outline of my main characters’ back stories, then I’ll research as I go. The main exception to this is when I have to write about cultures that aren’t my own. I take my time to understand what may be considered negative and positive stereotypes so I don’t include them in my work, while still being respectful to the culture that inspired my story.

How many unpublished and half-finished books do you have?

I have three unpublished books that will be published by next year, and I am about to start on a Christmas novella for this October. I am pushing myself to see how much I can write within a year because the story ideas never stop.

About The Book

They ended on the floor, Nico’s body suspended above hers. His caresses branded her with an invisible “Mine” everywhere he touched, and she reveled in his claiming.


Four years ago, I made one mistake, and she left. I couldn’t convince her to stay no matter how much I loved her. Still love her. But one day she turns up at my door asking for my protection. A rival family is threatening her life and the business she busted her ass for. No matter what unresolved issues lie between us, the heartache I’ve carried, or the dreams I wish were reality, I won’t let anyone threaten her or the family I had always wanted to be mine. I will always protect her. But I am more than just a temporary bodyguard. I have a second chance to show her my love is worth fighting for, and I will claim her completely. With this new chance, she can’t escape the inevitable.


Asking Nico for help is the last thing I want to do. After breaking up with him four years ago, I am not ready to be reminded of all the reasons I fell in love with him, to begin with. Avoiding him becomes impossible when he is still the only man I trust to protect me and my family from a rival mafia boss intent on ruining our lives. His every touch reignites my passions. Though I fight it, and will never admit it, my feelings for my ex had never died. As the heat between us flames to new heights, he tempts me with the possibility of a second chance at love.

Please Note: Both Inescapable and Inevitable can be read as standalone novels in the expanding Oliveri Mafia series

Genre: Contemporary romance

Tropes: Alpha Hero, Diverse, Plus-Size Main Character, Forced Proximity, Bodyguard, Interracial, Second Chance, Mafia

Length: Novel


“You’ve got this,” René told herself. She straightened her posture, and faced the door she had walked out of three years ago with no intention of ever returning. “It’s not like I am crawling back. If it weren’t for Onika I wouldn’t even be here right now.”

Although René was a first-generation American and had lived in the states her entire life, her family was big, loud, close, and international. With her childhood summer vacations spent in Jamaica, she and Onika, who had only moved to Felicidad two years ago, might as well have been twins. They spend almost every day of their breaks together.

Two years ago, René had offered to help Onika get settled, but her stubborn-ass cousin rejected her offer. Now René was a target with few options.

It was too late to lament her current circumstances, her business was at stake.

Okay, her life and Onikas were also at stake which technically was more important.

But damn, René had worked her ass off to become a hairstylist whose growing popularity resulted in two successful salons. She’d spent years renting chairs in other people’s salons while doing hair in her parents’ extension. Nights, weekends, and friendships were sacrificed on the altar of her dream. Finally, success had started trickling into her life. And now there was a threat to everything she had poured her soul into building, not to mention her life.

She wanted to curse Onika’s name, but Onika was only part of the equation. Who knew her friendship with Jessie would one day up the stakes to her dilemma?

There she went, hyping herself up when she needed a calm head to deal with that man behind the door. If anyone had gotten her wrapped up in drama she would have bet the bank on him—Nico Donini.

All this time she had avoided his name. In her mind, he was an abstract idea. Because thinking his name brought inevitable memories. Not the rip your heart out memories but the warm, cuddle sessions that plagued her after she’d ended things. They whispered to her of the what-ifs she could never voice.

Desperation had driven her here but it didn’t cancel out Nico as her wisest choice. Who was she fooling? She was not ready to face Nico. She spun to her car once again.

Before her first full step, the voice still haunting her dreams said, “Running again? You haven’t changed, have you?”

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About The Author

Melverna McFarlane loves stories with Happily Ever Afters. After years of characters taunting her imagination with their potential, she decided it was time to write her own scorching hot romances. She moved to America from Jamaica at a young age, and has lived up and down the east coast most of her life. The bitterly cold winter of 2013 was the last straw, driving her back to island life—this time to Hawaii. When not writing, she is reading romance, YA, and Fantasy, country hopping, or vicariously obsessing over other people’s cats (she awaits the day her landlords succumb to the truth: feline domination should be everyone’s goal in life).

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Blog Hopping

She likes to Moo-ve it Moo-ve it #MFRWHooks

A Book Hooks Blog Hop Post

I’m jumping on board the Book Hooks train (hosted by the wonderful MFRW blog) to share an excerpt from my new release, You Can’t Hurry Love, and to link you up with some excerpts to some other awesome romance authors.

The below excerpt is taken from Chapter Three. At this point, Charlie’s just had to suffer through an attempt at a deep & meaningful conversation about his (admittedly repressed) feelings and then Sara enters.

I just loved having this pair quietly -and sometimes not so quietly- get under each other’s skin. They were so much fun to play with!


“Just know that you can change your mind about it at any time, yeah?” Everett nudged his shoulder. “It won’t make you any less of a man, you stubborn git.”

Before Charlie could respond, a familiar, obnoxious voice cut in with a laugh. “That’s assuming he’s man enough to begin with.” Sara sauntered into the room, dropping a handful of shopping bags onto the floor beside the kitchen bench. She hopped up to sit on the granite surface, crossing her long legs at the ankle and chirping, “What are we talking about, anyway?”

From between gritted teeth, Charlie responded, “Nothing that concerns you, princess.” His spirits rose at the expression of distaste which flitted across her face. For some reason she despised the moniker, and so he used it frequently.

“Alright children,” Everett interrupted, narrowing his gaze at Charlie, “behave.” He stood up and crossed the room to greet Gemma with a kiss. “Did you lovely ladies enjoy your day?”

It was Jeff who answered, striding in arm-in-arm with their mother. “We did, thanks. It was just what the doctor ordered.”

“That massage was heavenly,” Beatrice agreed. “Worked out all the kinks from that Godawful flight.”

Charlie stretched his neck from side to side at the reminder. “I shoulda’ gone with you, then.”

Sara muttered something that was likely uncomplimentary under her breath, but, at Everett’s disapproving glower, Charlie bit his tongue. He was unused to this dynamic: previously, he’d been the one delivering looks like that in response to Rhett’s antics. He didn’t particularly appreciate being on the receiving end.

“How’d Zoe go?” Gemma asked. Charlie could tell she was attempting to change the topic, too, if the glare she’d sent Sara was anything to go by.

It was still strange to watch his brother switch completely into daddy mode. Everett grinned at his girlfriend. “We went to the park, came home and she tried some pureed sweet potato – she’s a fan, by the way.” At six months old, they were starting to introduce solids. How did Charlie know this? They’d regaled him and his mother with the information over dinner the previous night. His mum had lapped it up. Charlie had been bored as fuck. “And then she had a bottle and went down for her nap without any issues.”

With his mother cooing at his brother, Charlie did his best not to roll his eyes, but let his mind drift. He loved his niece, but he wasn’t all that concerned by the minutiae of dealing with an infant. Glancing around the room, his gaze landed on Sara. Still perched on the kitchen bench, she was examining her fingernails, clearly just as interested in the conversation taking place as he was. 

Look at that, he thought to himself with droll amusement, we’ve got something in common after all.

The moment was broken as she sensed his stare and looked up to catch him observing her. Her eyes rolled and she made a shooing motion with her perfectly manicured talons, which, he noted, were painted a vivid, cherry red. He flipped her off and looked away, wishing he could point out what a cliché she was.

Vapid cow.


You can read You Can’t Hurry Love for FREE on Kindle Unlimited, or buy the ebook for $2.99 USD (or $3.99 AUD) from Amazon. The paperback is available in a few more places, too. will take you to all of them.

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Erotic Suspense · Sharing The Love

Sharing More Love

with Lisabet Sarai

Featuring her novel Exposure 

Welcome back to Sharing The Love, Lisabet Sarai!

Stretching Myself

My latest release, Exposure, started out as a writing exercise in the Erotica Readers & Writers Association Storytime critique group. I’ve been a member of Storytime, on and off, for more than twenty years. It’s a wonderful community that offers both warm support and practical advice.

Back in 2009, the Storytime moderators used to pose regular theme challenges – invitations to try writing a new topic or in a new genre. It was always fascinating to see how different authors interpreted those invitations. Exposure began as a response to an erotic noir theme.

I’d never produced anything “noir” before, but I had some idea what the sub-genre entailed: urban grittiness, disreputable and world-weary characters, tension, darkness and an oppressive air of suspicion, in which nobody was who they seemed. I decided to stretch myself and give it a try. The result was “Private Dance”, a short story featuring a self-confident stripper, a dubious commission, and a bloody double murder.

The story was really different from anything I’d previously written. I originally thought it was a one-off, but for some reason my main character Stella Xanathakeos wouldn’t let me go. I decided to see if I could turn the story into a novel. The result was Exposure.

It was a rough slog. Writing a mystery was a completely new experience for me. I found the genre to be far more demanding than the BDSM erotic romance that was my stock in trade. In a mystery, every plot detail is critically important. At the same time you need to include a few red herrings to keep things from being too predictable.

Another tricky aspect was that, following the original story, I decided to use first person present tense. That fits well with suspense; your characters don’t know any more than your readers, so both are repeatedly surprised and shocked. However, managing time in a present tense novel takes a lot of care.

If you’re familiar with my other work, you’ll find Exposure something of a departure. It’s steamy but decidedly dark, with an ambiguous ending where Stella really hasn’t made up her mind what she’ll do, or who she wants. Nevertheless, I’m very fond of the book, at least partly because writing it pushed me outside my comfort zone and helped me broaden and deepen my craft.

About The Book

Sex, blood and betrayal: it’s all in a day’s work.

I strip for the fun of it. Don’t let anyone tell you different. It’s not the money. I could make nearly as much working at the mill and keep my clothes on, but then I’d have to suck up to the bosses. Up on stage, I’m the one in charge, and I like it that way.

Tony Pinelli hired me for a private dance. I was determined to give him his money’s worth. I didn’t expect to be caught in the cross-fire of a double murder. When his widow shows up at my door, I know I’m in way over my head. Now I’m everyone’s target. I can’t trust anyone – not even the police detective who was sweet on me in high school. My only chance at survival is to shift through the lies and expose the truth.

Genre: Dark erotic suspense – ambiguous ending

Length: 65,000 words, 218 pages

Rating/Heat Level: Explicit. Mature Audiences Only. 5 Flames.


The next night I show up at the designated room number, at eight on the dot. I like to be professional. I’ve tried to dress as elegant as I can, in a nice peach linen suit that hugs my curves and makes me look dark and exotic. I’m nervous, though, as nervous as I was that first night I stepped onto the Peacock stage. Taking a deep breath, I rap three times on the door like Mr. Clean told me to do.

I recognize the man at the door immediately. I may be a stripper, but I read the papers. It’s Anthony Pinelli, leading businessman, local power-broker, candidate for mayor. Hey, I was planning on voting for him, in spite of the stories about his mob connections. Nobody’s lily-white these days. From what I’ve read, he seems to have the kind of strength that you need to run this tough town.

I’ve seen his picture lots of times, but in person he’s even more impressive. Big but not fat, with a shock of shiny black hair and bushy eyebrows to match. He has a nice straight nose, lips that look decisive, and dark eyes that seem to go right through me.

But more than his good looks, I’m impressed by the sense of power that he projects. Charisma, I think the word is. He looks me over, those firm lips curve into a warm smile, and I suddenly feel like I’d do anything he asks.

“Please come in, Ms. Xanathakeos,” he says, standing aside so that I can enter the suite. His voice has a round, mellow sound to it. It slides over me.

“Call me, Stella, please.” I look around the fancy suite curiously, noting the modern paintings on the walls, the horseshoe-shaped sofa, the bar set up in the corner. The closed door next to the desk must lead to the bedroom. My heels sink into the thick, plum-colored carpet. I’m afraid that I’ll damage it. Maybe I’ll have to dance barefoot.

“Well, then, Stella, you must call me Tony.” He takes my hand in a kind of old-fashioned way. His touch sends shivers through my body. My nervousness is gone, replaced by a feeling of breathlessness. I won’t have any trouble at all getting turned on enough to dance, that’s for sure.

“Can I offer you some refreshment?” Tony asks, gesturing toward the bar.

“Just water, please.”

He hands me a long-stemmed glass full of carbonated water. I watch the bubbles dancing. It feels as if there are bubbles inside my chest, too.

He pours himself a tall scotch. We sit together for a few minutes on the sofa, not talking, sipping our drinks. I feel flushed and sweaty, as if I’ve already danced for him. His body gives off waves of heat. It’s like I’m lying under a sun lamp. I don’t know what to do next.

Finally, he puts down his drink. “Shall we get started? Let me get a bit more comfortable.” He shrugs off his suit jacket and places it over the desk chair. I gasp as I see that he is wearing a revolver in a shoulder holster. He smiles, just a little, as he removes this and hangs it over the chair on top of the jacket. “I’m a dangerous man, Stella, and I have many enemies. I have to take care of myself.” I nod vaguely. I’m not exactly reassured.

He seats himself back on the sofa. “The stereo is over there,” he says, pointing to a complicated pile of audio equipment next to the bar. Somehow, I figure out how where insert my thumb drive and how to start it playing. I turn to face my audience.

The first bars of the music free me from any anxiety. I fix my eyes on him and begin to move. Graceful. Sensual. I’m extremely turned on, but I want this performance to be classy, not raunchy the way I sometimes am.

The shoes go first. Now I unfasten my jacket, lingering over each button. Building the suspense. I’m wearing regular lingerie, flimsy and feminine, instead of one of my costumes. My breasts are like melons, encased in black lace. No padding or wires on this bra; my nipples are clearly visible, pushing the fabric into sweet little peaks.

Buy It Now:


Kinky Literature

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About The Author

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 – more than 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 (, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Bookbub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list and get a free ebook, plus exclusive contents and other benefits:


Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (website):

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