I hope you've reached the right place, and I hope that you're over eighteen. This website is for adults only. No, I don't sell adult toys or videos or anything like that, this isn't a porn site. But it is the site of an erotic romance writer.

If you're looking for a steamy read, long, short or in between, where the characters are all over each other, get down and dirty, than I can guarantee that you will find something here. I'm going to level with you, my erotic romances are explicit and graphic in nature, but they all have happily forever or happily for now endings.

Enter at your own risk!



Erotic Author

Friday, July 22, 2016

Wet Sex

I've always found a scene that involves two people getting wet to be very erotic. And they don't even have to be naked. There's just something about being pelted with water, whether in the shower or outside in the rain, that stimulates something deep inside us to let go of our emotions, whether it's kissing, touching, or all out making love.

She glanced out her window, seeing him standing there in the rain. He'd removed his shirt, letting the storm wash over him, but she knew it wouldn't douse the anger steaming inside him. Or the need to hurt someone. Her heart ached because she knew what he needed, she had the power to calm the monster before it was too late. But he frightened her, too. Still, she went outside, walking slowly toward him as he watched her with narrowed eyes. She knew what would happen if she got too close, she knew what he would demand from her. Soaked by the time she reached him, she only had a second to take in his savage expression before he snatched her to him and attacked. Lust exploded between them.

He was tormented by what he'd done, and needed to wash the blood and filth away. Standing beneath the stinging spray of the shower did nothing to comfort him, or erase the memory of what he'd done to her. And then she stepped into the shower, naked as he, and trusting. So very trusting. She should hate him and yet she came to him, offering herself to him in a silent invitation. As her hands came up to rest upon his chest, as the water soaked her long hair and pelted over them, he lost control. A tormented groan escaped him as he accepted her sweet surrender. He'd hurt her, destroyed her, and yet she was going to be his savior. He grasped her small hands, his dick rising between her silken thighs, and he knew nothing on earth would stop him from consuming her.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Passions Last Promise by Christie Adams


Hers to protect…his to serve…

When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.

Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.

A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…

Buy links:

Amazon: http://getbook.at/PLP

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-passion039slastpromise-1940493-147.html

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/passions-last-promise/id1131728778?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/passion-s-last-promise



“Problems, Miss Edwards?”

“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.

“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”

He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.

“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”

She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.

As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood that was oozing from a cut to her hand. Broken glass littered the worktop and the floor.

Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”

“It’s all right, I can manage.”

“No—you can’t. What happened?”

To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”

Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”

She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.

“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”

He quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”

“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.

For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.

She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.

Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.

Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.

Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

“Dr. Northwood.”

He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”

Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…


Author Bio:

After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.

When she was asked about how she got into writing, Christie realised she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.

From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the erotic short story competition in a magazine.

Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterisation.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

So Damn Hot!

Here in Florida! I absolutely hate the heat. Too hot to go out and do anything. Thank goodness we have a pool for the kids, and a movie theater down the street. Took them to see BFG (Big Friendly Giant) the other day. Was a cute movie, good one for the kids.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016


Buffed, but not too buffed. Just enough hair, shaved chests are nice but let's get real, it's not normal. Nicely defined arm muscles. Plus the tool belt indicates he has a man's job, meaning that he isn't a shoe salesmen. I like the tattoo, too. He doesn't even have to be handsome because his body is what does it for me.
If I was in the market.
Which I'm not.

Monday, July 18, 2016

Romances from Lyrical Press

by Sara Walter Ellwood


GENRE:  Contemporary Romance



Sex, drugs, and country music. That was the lifestyle for Emily Kendall, a Texas girl who hit it big on the country music charts--until she found herself pregnant and battling addiction. Now out of rehab and seeking a new life for herself and her unborn child, Emily returns to her hometown of McAllister. The last thing she's looking for is trouble, no matter how good it looks in uniform. . .

A widower, single father, and former Army Ranger struggling with PTSD, Sheriff EJ Cowley hashis own demons to battle while keeping folks safe. The last thing he needs is a troubled celebrity speeding through town in her bright red Mazerati. But when someone from Emily's past threatens her safety and the peace of McAllister, EJ has no choice but to protect her. And soon both will learn there's more to the other than meets the eye. And that wounded hearts can love again. . .



As he reached in the glove box for his pad of tickets, he whistled between his teeth. A Maserati with a Tennessee plate. His computer was in his official Tahoe, which was parked at the station, but he could ticket the driver and enter the citation when he got to the office. Opening the door, he picked up his hat from the side seat and put it on his head as he slid out of the pickup. He caught the female driver watching him through her side mirror and got a glimpse of dark reddish hair and big-lensed sunglasses covering most of a slender face from her reflection.

She straightened in the leather seat and smiled as he stopped at the driver’s door, ducking down to look at her. Despite the sunglasses covering her green eyes, he knew her. The magazines and TV hadn’t done her justice. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Her auburn hair was styled in a short pixie cut that seemed to make her look even more like a fairy than he’d thought of her when she was younger. A sudden flutter hit his gut and rattled his thoughts. What the hell was he nervous about? He’d met famous people before. Besides, he’d known this girl all of her life.

In spite of the reason he’d stopped her, he smiled. “Well, if it isn’t Emily Ritter. Haven’t seen you around here for years.”

Her smile fell the moment the name Ritter slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t go by that name any more and haven’t since I was fourteen.” She shot back as she glanced at his badge and the nametag above it on his uniform shirt. “Edward James Cowley.” The smile returned, but this time it held a hint of mischief. She must have remembered how much he hated his full name and used it to get back at him for his flub. “You’re the sheriff now? You get out of the Army?”

“I got out a little over two years ago, and yes, I’m the sheriff.” EJ pushed the brim of his hat over his forehead. God, he had to focus. “The reason I stopped you wasn’t to engage in small talk. You were speeding. I’ll need to see your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance.”

“C’mon, since when does anyone care about speeding on this old stretch of cow path?” She removed her sunglasses to reveal eyes the color of spring grass. They’d always seemed to mesmerize him, even when she was a kid, and now wasn’t any different. “Hell, the only people out here are my family, the Ritters, your family, and the Campbells.”

Her voice broke the trance her beauty put him under. She definitely wasn’t the girl who’d followed him around when she’d come over to the Double K to visit John Kendall, never knowing the old rancher was her grandfather.

“Actually, I own the Campbells’ place. They sold the Arrowhead Ranch a year ago after Uncle Joe had a heart attack. He and Aunt Sally moved to Arizona to be closer to my mom and dad.” He had to remember this woman wasn’t the innocent little girl he’d teased any more. Or a stunning woman he’d like to get to know better. From what he’d heard on the radio and from the tabloid covers he’d read while standing in line at the grocery store, she’d turned into a drug addict and party hellion after marrying a British rock star. He didn’t even like her music anymore, and there was a time, he’d thought she had the voice of an angel. The thought of her throwing away her talent on booze and drugs sent a spear of anger through him. Someday she’d undoubtedly end up as dead as Raquel had. He held out his hand. “Your driver’s license, Ms. Kendall.”

She reached for her purse, setting on the passenger’s seat, and pulled out her license, then rummaged through the glove box for her registration and insurance papers. As she handed the items to him, she smiled the sweet, breathtaking smile he’d seen splashed on magazine covers and award shows, but it never entered her hard eyes. “Fine. Here you go, Sheriff Cowley.”


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood is a multi-published author and publishes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.


Buy Links:
Amazonkindle, http://www.amazon.com/s/?field-keywords=9781601834904
 Apple, http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9781601834904
Google, https://play.google.com/store/search?q=9781601834904&c=books
 Kobo, http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=9781601834904
Nook  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/9781601834904



The authors will be awarding digital copies of all books on the tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:


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Saturday, July 16, 2016

A little Carnal Hunger tease!


First chapter in chapter five: I stepped from Iris reluctantly, moaning low. My dick didn’t want to leave her body either. The lady had a nice, tight, pussy that hugged my dick good, too good. I glanced down where Iris was draped limply over the seat of my bike, the shapely white of her ass visible now in the morning light. Further down I saw the glistening results of our orgasms between her thighs. The strong scent of sex was in the air and I filled my lungs with the pungent smell.

due out 8/25
pre-order here
Eight chapters into NO MERCY. This is Rock and Allie's story. He's the Phantom Riders MC's Vice President. Remember there was a brief mention that his love interest had run away years earlier after getting pregnant? Well, she's been found!

Ramona Lockwood is working on the cover now, can't wait to see what she comes up with. She does great work.