Books, Photos & a little bit of everything else: Aug 11

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    • Strip Teaser by Ava Manello: Blog Tour & Giveaway

    • Now is Our Time by Jo Kessel: Cover Reveal & Giveaway

    • Lather by Nicki Rae: Blog Tour & Giveaway

 

Strip Teaser (Naked Night’s #1)
By Ava Manello
Genre:  Erotic, Humour
Cover Designer: Margreet Asselbergs

When investigative reporter Sally Evans receives her latest assignment to uncover the naked truth, she gets more than she bargained for.Eight weeks on tour with the Naked Nights male stripper troupe to expose all their dirty secrets, is this serious reporter’s worst nightmare. She’d rather a man keep his clothes on. For Sally, sex is only a consideration if it happens in the dark, not that she can remember the last time she had a reason to turn the lights off.With over-eager, over-sexed female fans in abundance and baby oil by the gallon, the guys are looking forward to some fun…. Sally’s inhibitions are not.
Strip Teaser Playlist


Strip Teaser – Fan Trailer

Strip Teaser ***OVER 18’S ONLY***

Prologue

Alex

She gives me a look of warning as I leave the stage and head in her direction. Unlike the rest of the women on the front row, Sally’s the only one not trying to attract my attention and screaming at me to pick them. The look changes to one of resigned acceptance as I take her hand and she reluctantly follows me back to the stage. 

There’s something about Sally that draws me to her. She’s real for a start, not like the plastic Barbie dolls that normally show up for our performances. Eric will be pissed that I’ve picked her; he wants us to go for the loud, raucous girls that add to our performance, not a quiet girl like Sally. As far as I know this is the first time she’s watched the performance from out front; she’s hidden backstage the other nights. Eric wanted her to experience the show the same way the audience do. Well now she’s going to get the full experience.

I guide her to the chair that’s front and center of the stage. She sits primly, knees drawn together. I make a show of taking off my grey silk tie, slowly. The audience goes wild for the tie. Eric says it reminds them of Christian Grey, not that I knew who he was before I choreographed this routine, but it always gets a reaction. I unbutton my white shirt, one button at a time, drawing it out and letting my shirt hang open. The audience screams at the sight of my barely revealed abs.

I ease the tie through my hands slowly, almost caressing it, before gently drawing it sensuously across her face. I cover her eyes with the tie, securing it loosely at the back of her head. Moving in front of her, my back to the audience, I pretend to thrust my groin into her face. At the same time I lower the shirt down my back, revealing my strong shoulders inch by inch. Once it’s off I ball it up, tossing it carelessly into the wings. 

I turn to the audience, grinning and holding out the bottle of baby oil I just picked up. I make an elaborate show of the bottle and they scream in appreciation. I take one of Sally’s hands in mine. It fits perfectly. Turning her hand so it’s flat, palm up, I pour some of the oil into it, and then rub both her hands together. I move to stand in front of her, facing the audience, thrusting my groin at them. They scream. “Off. Off. Off.” They’re predictable after all. I take tiny steps backward until my legs are either side of Sally’s, and then slowly lower myself into her lap. The blindfold heightens her senses, she may not be able to see me but she can feel me. She still utters a little murmur of surprise as I hover just above her lap. I reach behind me for her hands, bringing them round the front of my chiseled abs, and slowly, oh so slowly, I use her hands to rub the baby oil onto my chest. The lights glisten on the oil, making my upper body appear even more toned. “Just imagine your hands are mine.” I whisper to her. 

I do this performance nearly every night, I’ve had hundreds of women run their hands over me, but tonight something’s different. Shit. This is actually arousing me. Do I show her what she’s doing to me? I move her hands lower, slowly teasing the audience who encourage me with vulgar catcalls. “Get his cock out!” one girl screeches from the front row. The tempo of the music increases, becoming more sensual as I trace the V leading to the top of my waistband with her hands.

Eric allows us to decide just how far we go with this part of the act. Normally I stop here. Not tonight. I guide her hands to the belt buckle; she understands and releases the clasp. Next I guide her to draw the belt out, all our movements slow and sensual. I take the freed belt from her hand and throw it behind us on the stage. I reach for her hand again to release the button on my trousers. I hear the indrawn breath as she realizes this isn’t quite the regular performance; one hand being drawn inside my waistband as the other releases the zipper. I want to tell her to touch me, that my cock won’t bite her, but that kind of talk doesn’t seem right with Sally. She’s got too much class for that.

I use her hand to caress my length. Fuck. That feels so good through my boxers. I want this to be real, not an act. Her grip tightens gently, as much as I want to continue this, I can’t. The audience are egging her on, even more crude language spouting from their over glossed lips.

I stand quickly, startling Sally. Turning to face her I lower the waistband of my jeans an inch. On cue the screaming raises in volume. Another inch. Now they’re shouting for me to “get em off” and to “get your cock out” My trousers are level with my boxers now, and I lower them both, inch by slow, teasing inch, until half of my arse is on display. I move a few steps closer to Sally, my groin level with her face. I grind a few times, stopping a whisper away from her lips. Oh God. The thought of those lips caressing my cock. I draw in a deep breath, calming my wayward thoughts. I’m desperately trying to get my head back into that neutral zone I use for performances.

I torment the audience a little more, pulling my trousers back up. Snap. I release them instantly, tossing them aside, and the screaming grows even more raucous if that were possible. Still facing Sally I pick up a towel. Holding it in front of me with one hand, I lower my boxers with the other. They fall, pooled around my feet. The screaming continues. 

I step closer to Sally, the towel the only thing between her and me right now. I take one hand, placing it on an arse cheek, then repeat the action with her other hand. She understands what’s needed and gently massages me. My cock gets even harder. At this point I’m supposed to thrust my towel-clad cock into her face. I can’t. That feels wrong with Sally. I grind my hips, simulating the thrust, all the time wishing I could feel those perfect lips caressing me. I try to bring my mental state down from highly aroused to stage aroused; yes there’s a difference. 

I draw one of Sally’s hands round to my front, placing it on my cock, holding the towel in place. The shock always makes them pull their hand back, well normally. There was one over eager fan who had a good grope the other night before releasing the towel. Sally performs as expected, pulling back her hand and allowing the towel to fall. The audience noise level is through the roof. One more hip thrust to finish off the performance, then I dramatically release Sally’s blindfold. Her eyes go wide, and a smile lights up her face before she laughs out loud.

I turn to the audience; hands raised high, thrusting my hips towards them, along with my cock, still hidden in a Union Jack sock. I get a standing ovation.

I guide Sally back to her seat in the audience and thank her. The girls either side of her immediately begin calling her a lucky cow and asking what it was like. As I move back to the stage I don’t miss the look in her eyes. I’m in for a shit load of trouble after the show, that’s for sure.

You know what? It was totally worth it.

Passionate reader, blogger, publisher, and author. I love nothing more than helping other Indie authors publish their books be that reviewing, beta reading, formatting or proofreading, I love erotic suspense that’s well written and engages the reader, and I love promoting the heck out of it over on my book blog.

I’m a mother, but most of all I’m me!


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Twitter: @avamanello

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Cover Reveal

Now Is Our Time

Book Title: Now is Our Time
Author: Jo Kessel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Synopsis

A story of second chance love set between London and San Diego.

Thirteen years ago Jonah Kennedy was one of America’s top tennis players, whose six-foot-three bad-boy California looks won him hordes of female admirers.

Thirteen years ago Claire Jackson, a fiery, aspiring artist from London, was the woman who stole his heart.

But the two held a secret which tore them apart and sent Claire running back to England.

They tried to move on. Claire married, had a child and became a successful TV personality. Jonah married, had a child and settled for life on the road.

Thirteen years later and both divorced, their paths cross again. Their attraction is even deeper – they feel destined to be together. Claire’s jealous ex, however, has other plans.

Can Claire and Jonah hold on to their second chance at love or will their past secret haunt them for ever? After all, thirteen is only lucky for some….

excerpt

It was 9 p.m. and the soft light was slowly starting to fade. Claire’s shoulders shivered as the temperature dropped and she slipped on the crop black cardigan she’d brought with. There was an empty bench outside the wrought-iron gates which guarded Kensington Palace, the same gates which mourners had flocked to, to decorate with flowers and wreaths and messages of condolence after Princess Diana had died. As they sat down Jonah still didn’t free her hand. They stared straight ahead at the gates for a few seconds and then Jonah broke the silence, turning to her.

“I tried contacting you after you left you know,” he said quietly. “I never wanted you to go.”

Tears began welling in Claire’s eyes and one dared to tumble over the edge and dribble towards her nose. Jonah wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. She nodded, but didn’t dare to speak. After she’d left, she’d changed her phone number, her e-mail address and even her home address. She’d not wanted to be found. She’d thought she was doing the right thing for everybody.

“What was your wife like?” Claire whispered.

She cursed herself for letting that question pop out her mouth. She didn’t want to know that he’d shacked up with some tall, leggy supermodel. Lord knows, there’d been enough of them around, clamouring to take him off her.

“She was a mistake,” he said, tracing his finger down from Claire’s wet eye and along her cheek towards the back of her neck. It was a gesture so sensitive and tender that she felt her head tilt towards his hand and her eyes close. She’d never in her wildest dreams imagined being with Jonah, ever again. This was almost too much, too soon, too hard to take in. Her life had felt dull for years and, to an extent, she’d been responsible for letting that happen. She hadn’t believed she’d deserved better. Not after what she did. And now, from nowhere it had sped into fast forward.

“But she gave you Martha,” Claire reminded him.

“Yes, and for that I am truly grateful.”

Jonah leaned forward and cupped his other hand around Claire’s face. It was safer to close her eyes and not to try to read his expression, or guess his thoughts.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded.

With difficulty she obeyed and found herself staring into his deep, grey pools. What she thought she could read in them unsettled her. It felt like nothing had changed in the intervening years, even though she knew so much had. A lump caught at the back of her throat and she could feel her lower lip trembling. Part of her wanted to run away, scared of being exposed to what was sure to be emotional turmoil. But another part of her was frozen to the spot. He had her face clasped in both his hands and once again she found her eyelids closing as he caressed her cheeks.

“I have to admit something,” he said.

She nodded, eyes still tightly sealed. Here it comes, she thought. He’d given her the good stuff and was now about to deliver bad news, to tell her he was in a new relationship or something. She didn’t want to see him as he said it.

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he continued. “But, I have to admit, I prefer you without make-up.”

Her eyes snapped open as she giggled.

“I don’t normally wear make-up. This was put on me this morning for some silly screen test Georgia put me up to.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It was nothing,” she brushed it off.

She wanted to close her eyes again, but his gaze held her magnetically. She wasn’t sure if her thirty-seven year old heart could keep up the cracking pace it was now thumping at and she knew she must look ridiculous. Her lower lip was quivering uncontrollably and her porcelain make-up was no doubt now a streaky mess. Idiot, why hadn’t she removed it before coming? She couldn’t stop herself from looking down at his mouth, his luscious, thick, sensual lips. No-one’s lips had ever matched up to his, either before or after. It was as if he could read her mind.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

She clamped her eyes back shut and nodded.

“I can’t watch,” she whispered.

She waited for so long that she considered telling him to hurry up, but then she felt his teeth gently take her lower lip in its grip, as if trying to stop the tremor. When she’d calmed down, he released it, pulled away for a second and she could feel the smile on his lips as he crushed his mouth deliciously into hers.

Meet the Author

Jo black and white publicity piano photos 004Jo qualified as a lawyer before moving into journalism, working for the BBC and reporting and presenting for ITV on holiday, consumer and current affairs programs. She writes for several national UK newspapers including the Daily Mail, the Telegraph, the Guardian and the Express and was the anonymous author of the Independent’s hit column: Diary of a Primary School Mum. Now is our Time is her third novel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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18 year old Emily Jenkins is from a small town in Indiana. She has just graduated High School and is going through a bad break up; she is ready to start college and get on with her life. But, before she even gets a chance to start college, unforeseen events thrust her right back in to the life of her ex. Will she survive him and be able to continue with her life or will she be drawn back to him?
 

 

Logan Moore has just returned home from College for the summer. He has had a rough first year, all of his own making. He wants to right some of the wrongs that he has created over the last year, but it is proving more difficult than he thought. After a tragic accident, that he feels is his fault, Logan tries to cope with the guilt and is offered help by someone he least expects.


 

 

Will their lives ever be the same?



 


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 “Emily, I
will be fine. I want you on the table.”
 
Who am I to
argue?
 
He moves his
arm back around to help me down. I do my best to keep most of my weight on me
but I know he wants to feel like he helped. I reach up and kiss him for the
entire journey over to the table. Before I get myself on the table, Logan slips
his hands in the waistband of my shorts and pulls them down. He stands back to
look at me and closes his eyes. I walk up to him and almost rip his shirt off.
I have been waiting all day to move my hands across this chest. I kiss it, and
move my hands down to his jeans and take them off.
Logan kisses
my lips and backs me up to the table. I start to get up on it but he stops me.
 
“No baby,
turn around.”
 
“Oh.” I say,
excitement coursing through my body.
 
I lean over
the edge of the table. He moves my hair to fall over my shoulder. He kisses my
bare shoulder and moves one of his legs between mine. His hand is moving over
both of my ass cheeks until he finds what he is looking for. His fingers trace
the line that leads to my sweet spot. He no sooner touches it and I almost
explode. He moves his finger away before I can. My back arches and that places
my head back on his shoulder and I am silently pleading with him to continue.
 
He places
his other leg between mine now and rubs his manhood against me. Oh my God, I
think I am going to die. I reach back and grab him because he is going too
slowly. I rip his boxers off him and start to guide him into me. I hear Logan
laugh but he doesn’t stop me.
 
“That’s kind
of hot babe.” He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
 
I lift one
of my legs onto the table, for easier access. I get him to where I want him and
he moves inside; slow at first and that is ok. This position is foreign to me,
I have to get used to it. Once he feels me relax around him, he starts to pick
up pace. One of my hands is on the table and the other is on Logan’s leg. My
knuckles are turning white from grasping the table so hard. He continues to
move at a steady pace and I feel myself climbing, I look up to the ceiling and
he starts to move faster. He reaches his arm around to my front for some extra
pleasure and that is all it takes. I shatter in his hands. Logan moves a few
more times and he is right behind me.
 
I am utterly
spent. I practically sprawl out, naked, on the Moore family dinner table and at
that moment, I really couldn’t care less.
 
“Jesus,
Emily!” Logan breathlessly says in my ear.
 
“That was
pretty amazing, Logan. That is definitely something worth repeating.”

 

 
Nicki Rae was born in Dayton, Ohio. Today, she resides just outside of
Indianapolis with her husband, her nine year old son and her zoo full of
animals; two cats (Sam and Shelby), fish, a bearded dragon (Spike) and a tarantula
(Bill). The tarantula actually belongs to the guys, Nicki hates him!
 
Nicki has a degree in Human Resources and is a banker by trade.
 
Along with being an avid reader, she is also a lover of music and a HUGE
sports fan (Go Colts!).
 
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