Book details:
EROTIC ROMANCE STORYBUNDLE INCLUDES:
MAIN BOOKS
Temptation by Selena Kitt - The innocent 1950s - a perfect backdrop for this "new adult" historical romance saga. What happens when you fall in love with your best friend's father?
Angry Sex by Sommer Marsden - When life turns stressful a girl needs release. Someone to help her work her issues out. Someone hot. Angry Sex...like therapy...but naked.
Torn Asunder by Kiki Howell - Fraught with scenes of explicit intimacy, romantic spells and mystical shapeshifting, Torn Asunder is a unique blending of the age of manners with sexual magic.
The ESP Affair by Alison Tyler - A dream lover fulfills Connie's erotic desires in The ESP Affair. Confronted with proof of her infidelity, she embarks on a psychic journey.
On the Way Home by Skye Warren - Explore the dark side with this suspenseful new adult romance... It’s a simple trade—the passenger in seat 34B for my sister. But the sexy soldier is more than I can handle in all the best ways.
BONUS BOOKS
Modern Wicked Fairy Tales by Selena Kitt (The Complete Collection) - Do you love fairy tales? Then don't miss these happily ever afters! Get ALL EIGHT modern retellings of fairy tale classics--Alice, Beauty, Briar Rose, Goldilocks, Gretel, Rapunzel, Red, and Wendy
Bittersweet by Sommer Marsden (Novella) - Deacon James is more sinful than the candy he sells. Testing Rayka's every limit. Mentally, creatively, emotionally and yes--sexually.
Rituals by Kiki Howell (Novella) – When a Wiccan ritual opens her eyes to an old friend, Maddie’s first week with Ryan is a blur of knots and ropes until Maddie’s controlling ex-husband returns hell-bent on taking her back.
Alison on Top by Alison Tyler (Anthology) - Super hot, incredibly sexy and wonderfully delicious," Alison on Top fulfills your craving for smart femdom fiction with aromantic twist.
Why StoryBundle?
• Support awesome indie authors by paying however much you think their work is worth!
• Pay the bonus activation level and get three bonus titles, including the Modern Wicked Fairy Tales boxed set
• Read all our books on just about any tablet, ereader, laptop or even your smartphone.
Erotic Romance StoryBundle, Feb 4-26, 2015 with Selena
Kitt,
Sommer Marsden, Kiki Howell, Alison Tyler, and Skye Warren
In the Erotic Romance Story Bundle,
you get hot romance novels from bestselling and award-winning authors—and you
name the price.
Curator’s Message by Kiki Howell: I’m a fan of each and every author who graciously agreed
to be included in this Erotic Romance StoryBundle, and so I will admit to being
a bit star-struck to have my stories published beside theirs. As you will read,
I met each one through a series of intertwining, very fortunate events.
I’ve had the privilege to work with New York Times &
USA Today Bestselling Author, Selena Kitt, since the beginning of my writing
career. After first being published by her company, Excessica, I then began
working for her in various aspects of the publishing industry. I consider
myself very lucky to have learned so much from a writer as prolific as Selena,
one of the best guilty pleasure authors out there with over a million books
sold!
Through working for Selena, I had the blessing of meeting,
Sommer Marsden. Over time, and little “water-cooler” chats via emails if you
will, we've found ourselves alike in a multitude of ways. I now have the honor
of calling her a good friend even though we've never met in person. Referred to
as “unapologetic” by another author in this bundle, I couldn’t agree more with
that description of her writing. Her stories are both profound and witty, sexy
and fun with a myriad of characters from a to z, adventurous women to zombies,
and back again.
Thanks to one of Sommer’s social media posts, I signed up
to review one of Alison Tyler’s books, and I've been hooked by her writing ever
since. A prolific writer of several stories and talented editor of many kinky
anthologies, her works offer passion and heart along with vital doses of all
things sexy. Just following her blog, appropriately titled, Trollop with a
Laptop, is exquisite fun, a true indulgence.
It was also through Selena that I was recently introduced
to New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author, Skye Warren. And, though
I’m just getting started into her dark romantic fiction, I can’t wait to
indulge in more of her stories. Her work described with such words as
“perversely tender” and “haunting and beautiful” I couldn’t agree more. I’ve
found her stories to be both complex and raw, emotional and enticing.
I’m pleased with the wide array of genres represented by
these authors and their stories in this bundle. While all erotic romance, you
will be further tempted with subgenres like: contemporary and historical,
paranormal/pagan and fairy tales, bondage and femdom, to name a few. Enjoy!
Excerpt from Torn Asunder by Kiki Howell
The roses, elegant in their
refinement, fell from one another with little grace as she undid the paper
around them. Staggering back a few steps until her back met the wall, she slid
down to the floor letting the wrapping and flowers fall where they may. Aubrey
wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection. Her chest ached more with each
beat of her heart as she swallowed hard, blinked away the mistiness over her
eyes, and remembered.
It had been the beginning of the
season, a bit over a fortnight ago, when she first encountered Edmund Bryant,
the Marquess of Dalysbury. Although she rolled her eyes still at the title, she
felt compelled to live through it all again—through the days of fantasy in
which she had allowed herself to participate. Love at first sight didn’t always
give way to rational thinking. The feelings did, however, make possible the
wavering delusions of believing impossible dreams could come true.
At the time, she had just come to
London to live with her cousins, Lord and Lady Sanderly. They had paid for her
travels under the guise of giving a poor relation of marriageable age a chance
to find a good husband. The truth of the matter was, she had shown a great
aptitude for learning the magical powers inherited through their line. The good
Lord and Lady, while holding the public titles of Earl and Countess, were
descendants of one of the notorious Pendle witches. They were to teach her to
harness and utilize her innate talents in secret while flaunting her about from
various parties and balls in the public eye.
She recalled with a weak smile the
first ball Lord and Lady Sanderly had thrown to immerse her into proper
society. Gripping her hands before her waist to resist fidgeting, she had tried
hard to fix to memory all of the titles of those to whom she was being
introduced. Her level of discomfort had increased. An unsettled awareness of
someone in the room, an almost haunting premonition, had made her heart race
and her mouth dry. She had paid no mind to the successive shivers which rushed
the length of her spine until they pooled as heat in her tightening stomach.
Reminded she was holding her breath
only when she was forced to speak, she found her ribs had begun to ache. When a
chill more pervasive than any she had ever known, even in the drafty county
cottage she had been raised in, permeated her shoulders, she had turned in the
direction of the source. Her eyes met with a man standing just across the room
looking back at her. She immediately felt challenged to not look away from the
gaze of his dark eyes. They radiated a raw energy unlike anything she had ever
encountered before, even among those with her own esoteric abilities.
A connection was made. Her heart
beat at a frantic, uneven pace like a horse racing over shoddy roads. At the
same time, a vague forewarning had made her break out in a glistening of sweat.
She fought the urge to escape the room as well the need to move toward the man.
She had given merit to her reactions based only on the fact she had captured
the glance of an aristocratic gentleman. He had a lady on his arm, one of
obvious higher circumstances in a lavish satin gown.
Engrossed in the man’s fine manners,
she watched as he removed himself from his current audience. His tempestuous
form in posh attire spun on the heel of his expensive footwear to find her
again with his haunted and hungry eyes. He seemed an odd mix of rugged and
refined. She had felt the thrill and danger of being pursued by a beast which
lurked inside of the man.
As if he was just happening by, he
had paused before her and spoken greetings to Lady Sanderly. If his perfection
could have been improved upon, he had managed it. Charm sang from his mouth.
The spicy smell of him embraced her.
“I thank you, my Lord. Allow me to
introduce to you to my cousin,” Lady Sanderly said as she moved between them.
She placed her hands upon both of their arms. “May I present The Most
Honourable, The Marquess of Dalysbury, and this, My Lord, is Miss Aubrey
Griffen. She is lovely, is she not?” A touch of electricity had tingled up her
arm, and she remembered Lady Sanderly had teased her of her overabundance of
excitement later.
Aubrey had curtsied as Lady Sanderly
taught her to upon meeting men of his rank, albeit he appeared a bit exaggerated
in stance to suit her tastes. All the while, she had blushed while the Lady
went on about her so. She had thought, at the time, she was putting it on a
little thick even for their purposes. This train of thought was shattered at
the memory of the Marquess taking her hand to lightly brush a kiss over the
back of it. A capricious sting of tears threatened behind her eyes.
“She is,” he had said with an
indistinct, but sonorously grave tone. “I was caught by her beauty from across
the room, and could not force myself to wait my turn in meeting her.”
“Lord Dalysbury,“ Lady Sanderly had
tittered in a way Aubrey had never heard before. She would have often wondered
at the aristocratic pomp if she had not known her cousin so well. However,
since she did, she knew it could only be an air she assumed because it was much
expected of her. “You are such a gentleman. Is your mother to be in attendance
tonight?”
“She is, but I fear she likes to
make late, but grand entrances.” His smile had been charming, and yet, she
could see he had stifled it to some degree. Since some things become clearer
the more one thinks upon them, and given what she knew now of his mother, it
seemed no longer strange at all. The Dowager Marchioness of Dalysbury liked to
make good use of her standing to intimidate the masses beneath her in order to
amass her whims.
At the time, however, she had
wondered at the curious nature of his many discrepancies. Having fought the
need to touch him in order to decipher further the divergences of his feelings,
she had focused on her own unfounded fears. She sensed her own frailty in his
presence despite the supernatural power she knew she could wield over him.
Her sudden, intense desire to know
him had infiltrated her usual cautiousness even as she idly listened to the
conversation continuing between him and Lady Sanderly. Since the Lady had
brought up his mother, his tone had switched to a suave satin while his answers
had became gruff and monosyllabic.
Aubrey had tried to emulate a Lady’s
refinement, chiming in when she could until Lady Sanderly was abruptly called
away by Lord Sanderly. This left her standing with Lord Dalysbury. She feigned
meek and timid, although in the usual play of things she had no lack of the
assuredness of her own character.
“What have you most liked about your
first days in London? The weather has been most agreeable for you, I do
believe,” he stated.
She appreciated his diversion.
“It has, but I fear I am more of a
bluestocking lady myself. I daresay, I have not ventured much past the garden
to read.” While she perpetuated the bluestocking persona to cover her intense
study and practice of magic, it could not be a truer representation of her
nevertheless.
“What have you read since you were
here?” He stammered the words as if he was not used to discussing such a lofty
subject with a woman.
“Just this morning, I finished
Hester Chapone’s Letters on the Improvement of the Mind.” She squared
off her shoulders and smiled demurely as she could manage.
“Such a keen consciousness.” He
shook his head as he spoke. “Do you read Mary Shelley?”
“Yes. I last read Loves of Poets.”
As she reflected on their
conversation, she sighed at the haunting vision of him. She seemed helpless to
stop the antics of her mind. Never had she quite let herself think upon the why
of their relationship. She had merely been swept away by love at first sight
and given leave of rational thoughts for moments of bliss she may never have
the chance at again. Looking back with a clearer vision now, she had pushed aside
all propriety to follow the desires of her quickly won heart. She had followed
the needs of her body for what she knew could only be a short-lived, secret
affair. Better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all had
been the faulty proverb of her days. More like bad advice, or an easy excuse to
have relations with a man with whom she could share no future.
In those first days, there had been
numerous moments of inappropriately stolen kisses, improper grazes of his
hands, and lengthy glances across crowded rooms all at the most dangerous of
moments. This shocking behavior, despite the fact that he was believed by
society to be openly courting The Lady Elizabeth Ward, the daughter of a duke,
for the love of all that is holy! Their courting had been more of a family
business arrangement than a veritable romance. A Marquess and the daughter of a
Duke to be wed for a gain in social standing and in covering over a mounting
disaster of family finances. He had raged over the situation just days into their
torrid affair while he walked with Aubrey at a garden party.
In her mind, they walked and talked
again.
“Since meeting you, I see the faults
of a marriage of convenience, one to gain station and to please the obligations
set out by family. How, after knowing such passion with you, can I allow myself
to be a mere pawn in a parental game of who shall marry whom? I cannot
surrender my life for family alliances!”
“But, you must. There is no way
around it. You have obligations, and thus it seems aristocratic children end
up…”
“Powerless,” he cut her off. “I feel
utterly powerless over my own future, like I was just sold to the highest
bidder for position and reputation.”
“The Lady Elizabeth Ward…” The name
had burned her throat burgeoning a barrage of tears she fought to suppress, “is
better suited to be your wife than a poor relation of an Earl.” With secrets
that await scandal if brought into the limelight of those of your rank.
She recalled how his sigh had meshed
with her own. His tone became more forlorn in recognizing the truth of her
words.
“Before I met you, I used to think
the same. If one considers the facts as they could be scrolled onto parchment
then she does suit. Her lineage is as faultless as her manners. She has been
trained to be the wife of a Duke or a Marquess and the mother of heirs. We do
produce easy conversation, although we never share words of importance. I dare
proclaim it is much the same with any talk within the ton.”
“This is why marriage within your
own rank will make your life easier. It is the practical and the wise choice.
Other than meeting you, I do prefer my own world to being whirled about in
yours. This knowledge, I have gained from my time in London. Do not worry for
me. It is far preferable to have had the chance to shower love upon that person
who fulfills you like no other and to hurt once they are gone than to have
never known or made love to them at all.” Her string of words had tumbled from
her mouth. She had tried to express what was in her heart, but she was making a
cake of herself in the attempting of it. Yet, her use of the word love
had been intentional. She had wanted to say it to him, but known better. It
would only cause problems for them both, having known even then she would have
to leave. She could not bear to see him marry another, and that was the one
thing which would dictate her future.
As if he had read her thoughts,
which seemed an uncanny habit of his, he had said, “We all know of at least one
person who has stood for love and married beneath them. It could be me! I can
weather the scandal of walking away from an advantageous marriage and still
fulfill the obligations of my position. I do not care one wit what society
thinks of me! Often one is surprised to find society is not as harsh a council
as one thought it to be.”
“I love you for even thinking it,
but you are dreaming, my Lord. And, what if it all falls apart around you? What
then? You have others to think of. We have only just met. We do not know of
each other enough to make such rash decisions.” Those were the only choices she
did make where he was concerned, but in this one matter, she could not allow it
to be so. She tried to maintain some distance between them for his sake.
“There is time for us to decide. I
am not being pressured with a time frame to ask for her hand as of yet. I could
make you fall in love with me in time. I could set us up a house in the
country. Could you not see me in a shabby coat with a few shaggy dogs at my
feet when I do not have to be in attendance in London? Or, we could flee to
America and be done with it all.”
“How absurd both ideas are. You are
banking a lot on a few illicit meetings. Besides, you could never live with
yourself having hurt Lady Elizabeth and your mother. You shall have to let me
go. Honestly, I am not the lady of your youthful dreams, am I?”
“No, you are so much more than I
ever dreamed possible for myself. You are truly a rare person, and I am in awe
of all I know you to be. You have humbled this aristocrat. So, then let me ask
you, am I the man of your dreams?”
“No,” she had laughed fully. “I had
more in mind a man with no wealth and no title to speak of. I…” she had left
off before she could slip and admit to having thought she would marry a man of
magic. It did not seem to matter to her now. There was another sort of magic
she had then not been aware of. It is the magic of uniting two souls meant by
the universe to be together even if society claims they are not to be permitted
such happiness.
“I must be with you, fully as a man
and a woman can. I must have at least that, please. I must know one night with
you. I must have it in my memory to endure the lot which is my life. Please
tell me you want me as much as I desire to have you.”
His words had sounded scandalous.
Yet, the sexual tension between them had been so viable she could actually see
the sparks stemming from the energy which grew within her each day. She knew he
had a part in that as if he had powers of his own and was gifting them to her.
Although, a sillier notion there never was. Just being with the man who
dominated both her heart and soul had made her better for the knowing of him.
“How can we take such a chance?
There are too many to be hurt.” Like me, she thought, although she did
wonder upon which choice could possibly make her future without him worse. She
cringed at the idea of what he would be able to do with his wife each night
once they were wed. The torture in the days to come would be set upon such
thoughts each night.
“A single decision can forever
change how it is we bear the rest of our lives. We will not get the chance
back. I shall be married, and you shall be gone. You have said as much, have
you not?”
“Where and when?” She had heard the
words come from her mouth and chose to let them be. There would be dreadful
consequences in their future either way. Why not have a moment of pure
bliss, utter happiness, before our lives are torn asunder for our remaining
days.
The tears now fell freely along with
her memories. Only days ago they had shared a first night of passion, as they
had discussed. What was to be their first and last sexual relations had
continued through successive nights. They had found more times and more ways to
slip into each others arms, naked and free.
She picked up a rose which had
fallen to the floor and put it to her nose. The fragrance brought back that
infamous moment when they first joined. Roses, much the same, he had given her
on that night too.
Even though the reminiscing was
killing her, she let herself go back to the intimate party she had attended
while staying the weekend with Lord and Lady Sanderly at the grand estate of
The Earl of Gainsborough. To her delight, they had found another moment to walk
a garden together. This time he had begged her with his eyes and then his
words. She had become momentarily hesitant about such a monumental happening,
the loss of her virginity. Since she knew she would suffer the loss of him the
remainder of her days, this was probably her only chance to feel a man hard
inside of her.
“Please forgive me, but I must have
you. I must make love to you,” he had begged.
“I want the same, but it feels most
improper, still. Years of teachings, I suppose, of how to be a proper lady.”
“I can feel the heat radiating off
of you. I know you want me.”
She blushed, not understanding how
he could have known of the wet heat building thick in her core, making her damp
with desires she had only heard about.
“Your blushing tells me I am right.”
“My blushing is only confirmation of
your sincere impropriety,” she countered, not meaning the words.
“You want me.”
“How can I want what I know not of?”
It had been a lie of course. She had studied the grimoires of many witches who
had written of using the energy gotten of sex to power spells. She had become
mesmerized in all of the lurid details, feeling her body tingle and pulse much
as it was doing now.
“Say yes. Please! I apologize, I
know I owe it to you, but I can’t help myself. It is as though you have
bewitched me, and I can’t hold back my desires.”
She had gone stiff at his use of the
word bewitched. She recollected the raw lust coming from him as
something she had never felt, even around the most lecherous of men. Did I
do something unknowingly to him? She fretted the idea now as she did then. Could
it be why he wanted me? Did he not have his own true lusts and desires?
“I am sorry. I won’t ask again.
Relax.” He had rubbed her arms, sending the warm remnants of friction meddled
with touch through her body. “I will gain control over myself somehow.” She had
seen the obvious bulge in his trousers and turned to go until he had released a
moan of anguish.
“I am afraid,” she offered.
“I won’t hurt you anymore than
nature necessitates.”
“I don’t understand why I am even
considering throwing away a lifetime of propriety on this moment. It is
insane.” What if I have bewitched you, and you are not acting of your own
volition?
Her chest tightened, suffocating
her. In her mind she had always thought love would have no place in her magical
life unless she happened upon a man with her powers. She had thought she could
not give herself to a man who knew not the whole of her. Men like him, normal
men, could never understand. She had been through these arguments in her head a
thousand times since meeting him, and she knew it was only her fears seeking
them out again. Her final thoughts on the matter had gone as such. If they were
to be together only once, and she must leave him anyway, it would not matter if
he knew not the truth.
She let the scene move forward once
again as she brushed her fingers over the silkiness of a rose petal, lost in
her recollection as if it was happening once more. She remembered their breath
meshing between them, coming out fast as they stood facing each other, frozen
in their desires. His visage had been as grim as her treacherous heart in want
of him. All the appropriate responses had left her, and she wondered the harm
that could come of such a tryst.
“Come to me tonight after all others
have retired. My door I will leave slightly ajar once the house is quiet.” Her
words had tumbled out before she had time to finish thinking it all through.
She abruptly left him to find a quiet bench to compose herself upon.
He had done as she had instructed.
Her current existence darkened around her once more, and she stood there again
when he shut the door to her room that fateful night. He had been but a
gentleman for one more moment. He had proceeded to stalk her back toward the
bed as he asked, “Are you sure? I may have but one last ounce of restraint to
get me out of here if you are not.”
“Yes.”
The word had barely left her mouth
when, in one heart-stopping expanse of time, he picked her up off of her feet
and pinned her body under his. His eyes had darkened as something raged behind
them. He ran his hands down her sides in a gentle caress that had an ounce of
violence to it, laced within pressure and intent. She felt him holding back a
huge amount of energy. The power came at her in surges, overwhelming her
sensibilities and catching her breath.
She was overflowing, on the other
hand, with many unfamiliar yet wondrous emotions as his mouth descended upon
hers. A pulse beat more frantically in her most secret of places as he wrapped
his arms around her waist and pulled her lower body more fiercely against his.
Her softness gave way to his hardness, and she became as pliable as his cravat,
which was falling from his neck despite all the starch. The bulge of his cock
from earlier now filled the space between her thighs.
Whatever shyness she had, whatever
reservations, they had misted from her like steam from her heated skin. She
started ripping at his coat and shirt. When her hand hit the skin of his chest,
a spark of electricity went through each of her fingers.
He had let go of her then, moving
off of her and to her side as he started to pull on her gown. She helped him by
moving as needed until he had divested her of her corset and chemise and
stockings too.
“My, but I have never seen one
before so beautiful,” he had exclaimed in a faltering voice as he knelt beside
her. He stared like she was food to be devoured. She had not even the will to
move her head back and forth in rebuttal.
When he grabbed for his trousers, he
begged, “Please don’t turn away.”
He proceeded to remove them along
with his stockings and boots. His cock stood out, proudly bouncing a little
with his movements. There was nothing that had ever prepared her for the sight
of this naked man in front of her. He was brawn under a shroud of satin skin,
with chiseled muscles accentuating each curve of his abdomen, legs and arms.
She had tried to wet her dry lips as he reached for her hand. Brushing across
the curve of her belly, his touch sent a current of electricity that set what
already pulsed to twittering.
Next, he had moved her hand to his
arching erection, running her fingers over the reddened staff. The skin was
soft while the bulk of it was unyielding. He guided her over him, showing her
what to do, then cupped her hand and moved it to the tight sacs at its base.
She touched lightly upon the tight band of skin beneath them. With his teeth
clenched, he growled, alarming her. He never allowed her to remove her hand
from him while he climbed back up on the bed.
He rubbed over her breasts, making
her yearn more for him in the lower regions of her body. Her nipples tightened
and pebbled under his touches. Erotic sensations mingled then merged into pure
ecstasy when his mouth finally came down to suckle her. She had never felt so
perfectly warm. The rhythm of his deep pants increased as she felt her way
around his cock in an untaught manner which seemed to make it twitch in her
hand. He shuddered against her.
Soon, he had moved from her reach as
his kisses trailed lower. His fingers met with the curls at the apex of her
thighs. They drifted over the soft folds, opening them to discover her most
secret spot. Thus, he released the most wanton of desires she had no idea she
even possessed. She was grateful to be lying down as she felt she would swoon
when she let her legs fall apart as far as they would go. When his fingers
caressed her wet skin, her hips arched up toward him. Then, he caught the
swollen nub there in his lips and flicked at it with his tongue. A wave of
contractions had tightened her stomach. She let free a cry which he moved up
her body to stifle quickly with his mouth. His lips were wet with her juices.
The contractions continued with the fall of his erection over the highly
sensitized nub. His tongue plundered her mouth.
He lifted his hips, setting his cock
at her opening. She tensed, awaiting the pain she had heard would now come. He
had been patient as much as he was frantic, moving in slowly until he pierced
through the last piece of her which could give him any pause for concern.
“I am so sorry,” he whispered gently
when she tensed. She knew he had ceased moving while he waited for her to
confirm it safe for him to continue. The ache died away as she felt her body
conform and grip around his.
“I am fine, My Lord.”
He pulled back, looking upon her
quizzically, but an evil smile took his face. He thrust in and out of her,
drawing ripples of pleasure. The sensations had built and built until she
tumbled with them over the edge of the precipice to ride out the waves of the
most indefinable, exquisite bliss she had never fathomed. His seed had shot
warm into her, moving her back to the build again for a moment before her core
contracted in tiny ripples. Leaving her relaxed and sated, he fell flat onto
her. She had felt all-encompassed by him, and safe in all that had just
happened because of it.
“I cannot apologize for what just
happened here. It was too perfect, too unbelievable, to utter such insane words
for.”
She had sensed mutual adoration,
hesitant then to call it love even in her mind.
“You never have to,” she had
answered.
$100 Amazon Gift Card
Autographed Print Book: Selena Kitt’s Blood of Angels
Autographed Print Book: Sommer Marsden’s The Mighty Quinn
Autographed Print Book: Skye Warren’s Wanderlust
Autographed Print Books: Kiki Howell’s War in the Willows Trilogy
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