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

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Hawk and Audra's First Meeting in Phantom Riders MC

The keys!

A rush of excitement raced through me, and I acted without thinking. I swung my leg over the seat, which was no easy feat for my short stature, and reached for the keys. My gaze barely acknowledged the heavy metal skull hanging on the key ring as I turned it to start the bike.

“What the fuck—”

I barely had time to register the growl of rage behind me before a huge hand fell on my shoulder, bunched up the extra material there, and hauled me roughly off the bike as easily as if I were a child. As I was shaken like a rag doll, my hoodie fell off my head. I glanced up at the giant at the same time that he pulled back his tight fist to hit me. A loud gasp escaped me and I scrunched up my face, waiting for the explosion of pain and the sound of broken bones, that I was sure was coming.


I opened my eyes to see his huge fist paused just inches from connecting to my face. His expression was fierce, everything about it pulled taut over his cheek and jaw bones, eyes the color of black ice were glaring down at me, narrowing as I watched the man take in my features and hair. His gaze raked over my figure, and he frowned even more as if he were trying to figure out what I was. When his icy glare returned to my face, his fist relaxed and he reached forward, pulling my waist length hair forward.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snarled.

“No one,” I said softly. I couldn’t think clearly enough to make something up, only knowing I didn’t want him to know my name. The man was terrifying, and I was shaking like a leaf.

Movement near the store drew my gaze away to see that two other men were coming out. All three of them were dressed in the same way, in jeans, boots, black t-shirts and leather cuts that warned me that they probably belonged to a motorcycle club. The two men paused to light cigarettes, their interested gaze falling on me.

The giant that was holding me gave me a violent shake to get my attention again. “I almost destroyed your face, woman. What are you doing messing around with my bike?”

“Nothing,” I said in the same soft tone as before.

“It didn’t look like fucking nothing to me. Where did you think you were going?”

“Nowhere.” I watched as his friends began to walk toward us. At the same time another man walked out of the store, and my panic level grew as I recognized one of Dane’s bodyguards who’d traveled with us from Vegas. I quickly yanked the hoodie up and tucked my hair back into it, turning my face away as much as I could. “Please help me,” I begged.

The man scared the shit out of me, but at the moment, he was the lesser of two evils. I knew what I could expect from Dane, and would take my chances with the giant. I peeked at him from beneath my hoodie. His expression hadn’t changed. His eyes were narrowed on me like a scrutinizing hawk.


He glanced in the direction that I had. “Who are you running from?”

“Please take me away from here. We can talk later.” I held his gaze, trying not to cry, but the situation was starting to get to me. If Dane’s man recognized me and he forced me back to Las Vegas, God knew what would happen to me. “I’ll pay you,” I said in desperation.

The giant continued to scowl at me. I got the impression that my offer of money had peaked his interest, but when his gaze ran down the length of me again, I realized that he might want something more than money. Then he surprised me by reaching forward and grabbing and squeezing my breast. It was by sheer will power that I stood there and didn’t react. I couldn’t afford to.

“Get the fuck on.” He turned toward his two friends. “Let’s ride.”

Monday, July 25, 2016

Night Magic by Kathleen Ann Gallagher

Night Magic Book 1, Moonlight & Jasmine Series

by Kathleen Ann Gallagher

GENRE: Contemporary Paranormal Romance


Krista Winter is in need of legal counsel. Several years ago she was forced to flee her life as a teacher in New Jersey after being shunned for practicing witchcraft, and her past is about to catch up with her.

Jon Bartolo is a dedicated attorney. His days are spent helping his clients with their struggles, and his nights are spent in agony, lost in a world between life and death. His mother, who died three years ago, lurks in his house, suffering from a curse for eternity, without a final resting place.

A smoldering fire ignites between Jon and Krista almost immediately, however, he’s sure his secret would frighten any woman away. An afternoon escape brings them closer, but doubts linger between the love-struck couple.

Burning questions about how to fuse their futures together with so much of their past still clouding the future becomes a heavy burden that they’re both trying to bear on their own. It will take a touch of magic if there’s any hope in sight.



Steadying herself, Krista stared into his eyes with her heart racing. As Jon moved in again and plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, he caressed her back, and she surrendered mercifully to his touch. Each passion-filled kiss felt as if he was a long lost lover who had reappeared and claimed her heart’s desire. There was no telling what might happen next. Her whole body relaxed as he nuzzled her ear, teasing her with playful nips at her neck. All rules had been broken, but it
didn’t matter. His hard shaft rubbed up against her, and she swayed back and forth, unable to break away from temptation. Jon’s breathing sped up as his hands traveled up and down her back. She quietly moaned, lost in another world. Every movement brought her one step closer. Was she lonely enough to have sex with a man she’d just met? Each kiss weakened her guard. Maybe it was fate. As his hand trailed across her back, her body rocked with his. Each flicker of his tongue along the sides of her mouth was electrifying, as if he wanted to devour her, and she found herself in a trance-like state. This was what she’d been missing. Running her hand across his firm bicep, the room spun. The warmth of his body was raising her level of arousal. Here, in the middle of his office, she experienced a passion like no other. Everything seemed right. Lust took control of her senses, and she let herself go with it. With each kiss, he cradled her in his arms, his embrace warm and protective like a warrior of love. How did this happen? Had she found the man she was destined for, or was it all a dream?


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Kathleen writes contemporary and paranormal romance in her home in New Jersey, where she lives with her husband and their two fur babies, Luc and Chaz. She spent years working as a registered nurse in an emergency room. She is also active in Community Theater. She has three children and three lovable grandsons. Her favorite romantic getaway is Cape May, New Jersey. You might find Kathleen on a beach down the Jersey Shore, wearing a straw hat and sipping on an iced tea as she plots her next romance novel.

You can find Kathleen at the following places:

Website: www.kathleenanngallagher.weebly.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/Kathleenwrites

Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorKathleenAnnGallagher

Buy Links:


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Night-Magic-Kathleen-Ann-Gallagher-ebook/dp/B01I8B76Z4/ref=sr_1_1#nav-subnav



Kathleen will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC 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:


a Rafflecopter giveaway

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.