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Showing posts with label Paris Brandon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris Brandon. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Lust At First Sight...


Summer is over but if you’re in the mood for a sexy, romantic holiday read this February, you might find what you’re looking for within the pages of  SUMMER NIGHTS OF DELIGHT, a Romance Books ‘4’ Us boxed set featuring my story, HEAD OVER HEELS.

While not exactly a story centered around the most romantic month of the year, Rhys and Bella's story includes his charitable foundation's Valentine's Ball. Fun and flirty with not a shifter in sight, the sexy romantic comedy still one of my favorite stories. Enjoy!




A sexy CEO finds an unexpected treasure when a quirky thrift-shop owner falls off a ladder, and into his arms. Lust at first sight has never been so much fun!

Contemporary Erotic Romance Excerpt: Rated (R)



He situated the ladder and started climbing.
“I admire a man who’s willing to battle cobwebs and lace doilies to make me happy,” she said, watching him balance three full hatboxes and step back down. The muscles in his legs and ass clenched and her mouth watered. She was going to be a giant puddle before this was over. She hastily cleared the counter.
He set the boxes down between them. “Anymore balancing acts I should know about?”
She shook her head. “Not this week,” she said as he grabbed his coat and hat. She didn’t want him to go but if he didn’t there was a real threat that she’d start rationalizing a quickie, drag him into the storeroom and fuck his brains out among the clutter and cast-off furniture. There was a fainting couch but the upholstery was shot and the stuffing was marginal.
Oh damn. She’d been without sex way too long.
He turned the handle and the door popped open. “I know I locked this.”
She shrugged. “I have to use the deadbolt if I want to lock it securely.”
He frowned. “Were you afraid of being in here alone with me?”
“Not for the reason you might think,” she said, smiling because the thought worried him enough to ask. And he did look worried. “You’re almost too good to be true and I don’t want to screw it up.” He shut the door, deliberately and she cringed. “I open my mouth and—”
He crossed the shop in quick, deliberate strides closing the distance between them.
“Open your mouth, Bella,” he whispered, lowering his head. His soft command swept through her and brushed away any doubt that this was what they both wanted.
Even in the impossibly high stilettos she had to stand on tiptoe until he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her closer. His mouth was warm and sweet, restrained for the second it took her to accept him and then he claimed. His hands were everywhere, around her, caressing her.
She pressed against his erection, hot and ready. The upholstery on the fainting couch in the storeroom wasn’t that bad. She could throw a blanket over it. Or she could lead him upstairs to her delicate, wrought-iron bed. And they could make the bed shake and the windows rattle.
She drew back and took a deep breath. She wanted to reach down and touch all that pulsating energy wedged between them but he pulled away, his fingers trailing down her arms.
“Do you care about any of them enough to want them back?”
Still dazed by his kiss, she shook her head. “I didn’t care enough about any of them to consider how terrific make-up sex would be,” she said, still fixated on his mouth.
He looked stunned for a moment. “Let’s not make that our first time,” he rasped, drawing her out of her trance. He pushed his arms into his jacket, put on his hat and slung his scarf around his neck. “I can’t believe there isn’t someone in your past smart enough to want you back,” he said, pinning her with a heated gaze that just missed being a glare.
He unceremoniously grabbed her for another lingering kiss, cradling her head in his big hands and taking her mouth as if he were staking his territory. And then he was gone.
She watched him cross the street between lights, still hungry for his touch, another kiss. Rhys Vincent had to be the most passionate man she’d ever met. Lust was definitely part of the equation—and he wanted her.

What’s love without a little laughter? Find HEAD OVER HEELS here:
 
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Summer-Nights-Delight-Romance-Collection-ebook/dp/B078XM1B1W/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1517785533&sr=1-1&keywords=Summer+Nights+of+Delight%2C+Marianne+Stephens



 
A member of Romance Writers of America and published since 2009, I write contemporary, paranormal, erotic and historical romance, throwing a little mystery and suspense in for good measure. Currently self-published and published with Decadent Publishing, I love nothing better than a story that contains a little mystery and a lot of romance. 

When not dreaming up stories featuring heroes who aren’t intimidated by strong heroines, you can be find me haunting antique and thrift stores for unique finds, or planning a new flower garden. I live in the mid-west with my own hero, a handsome devil who knows his way around the kitchen and keeps me from starving when I’m trying to make a deadline.

For all of my latest news, sign up for my newsletter and follow me on any or all of the sites listed below. I love hearing from readers about what interests them or what character(s) they’d like to see have their own books!

Until next month,
Happy Reading!

Paris Brandon
Sign up for my newsletter: http://parisbrandon.com
      Follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/paris.brandon.author
BookBub:
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/paris-brandon


 

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Hello, 2019!


I haven’t done any serious writing in a month. I’ve threatened to take a break over the holidays before, but necessity demanded that I take some time to relax or face total exhaustion. My schedule might not appear grueling to anyone else, but working non-stop is bad policy these days. The older I get, the more I appreciate my down time. The month of December, I managed some holiday baking, visiting with friends and I didn’t order any presents off the internet. I shopped, I lunched, I laughed and I actually got some reading in. Monica Corwin recommended Save The Cat! Writes a Novel, The Last book on Novel Writing You’ll Ever Need by Jessica Brody (based on the books by Blake Snyder).

It might not be the last craft book I ever read but it’s a pretty quick read as well as entertaining and informative. I’m using the basic template to plot my next book. I’ll let you know how that turns out.

I’m in the process of getting my year end taxes together and like everyone else, wondering how the new tax laws are going to affect my business. Probably not well, but again, more on that, later.

I hope 2019 finds everyone healthy, happy and in good spirits as they look forward to the coming year.

If you’re like me and you love a bargain, you might want to take a look at SUMMER NIGHTS OF DELIGHT, a collection of stories by the Romance Books ‘4’ Us authors for the crazy price of only 99 cents! I’m leaving you with an excerpt from my story, Head Over Heels. Enjoy!



Head Over Heels

A sexy CEO finds an unexpected treasure when a quirky thrift-shop owner falls off a ladder, and into his arms. Lust at first sight has never been so much fun!

Excerpt:

He placed his hands flat on the counter and leaned across. “I’ll be honest with you. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted anyone as much as I want you. I just don’t want to be ‘revenge-sex guy’ or ‘rebound-guy’ or the guy who helps you figure out that what you really want is your last lover.”
“I think technically that would be rebound-guy,” she said because she was nervous and she said stupid things when she couldn’t think straight. She’d never been the focus of this much bottled-up intensity and as much as she wanted a passionate fling with a lust-crazed lover this was new territory and she didn’t have a map. But she could understand not wanting to be used.
“I apologize for jumping to a conclusion that I had no business—” He shook his head. “What do you need taken down?” She opened her mouth and he growled, “You are not getting on that ladder again.”
“My Valentine decorations,” she said, pointing to the hatboxes with reproduction Edwardian Valentine cards glued to their fronts. They’re on the very top shelf, next to the storeroom. “
He situated the ladder and started climbing.
“I admire a man who’s willing to battle cobwebs and lace doilies to make me happy,” she said, watching him balance three full hatboxes and step back down. The muscles in his legs and ass clenched and her mouth watered. She was going to be a giant puddle before this was over. She hastily cleared the counter.
He set the boxes down between them. “Anymore balancing acts I should know about?”
She shook her head. “Not this week,” she said as he grabbed his coat and hat. She didn’t want him to go but if he didn’t there was a real threat that she’d start rationalizing a quickie, drag him into the storeroom and fuck his brains out among the clutter and cast-off furniture. There was a fainting couch but the upholstery was shot and the stuffing was marginal.
Oh damn. She’d been without sex way too long.
He turned the handle and the door popped open. “I know I locked this.”
She shrugged. “I have to use the deadbolt if I want to lock it securely.”
He frowned. “Were you afraid of being in here alone with me?”
“Not for the reason you might think,” she said, smiling because the thought worried him enough to ask. And he did look worried. “You’re almost too good to be true and I don’t want to screw it up.” He shut the door, deliberately and she cringed. “I open my mouth and—”
He crossed the shop in quick, deliberate strides closing the distance between them.
“Open your mouth, Bella,” he whispered, lowering his head. His soft command swept through her and brushed away any doubt that this was what they both wanted.




Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Paris Brandon writes contemporary, paranormal, erotic and historical romance, throwing in a little mystery and suspense for good measure. She can be found most days bent over her keyboard creating worlds where sleeping beauty turns out to be a cursed bootlegger or an outlaw shifter is forced to go on the run with the assassin tasked with killing her.

When not dreaming up stories featuring heroes who aren’t intimidated by strong heroines, she can be found searching through antique and thrift stores for vintage treasures, or communing with nature, which is code for sitting on the patio with a cup of tea and a good book. And as with any activity, chocolate is usually involved.



 


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