a look at ‘Marietta Hotels’ #series by Rachell Nichole #Contemporary #Romance @RachellNichole @SDSXXTours

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An Affair Across Times Square
Marietta Hotels Book 1
by Rachell Nichole
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Layla Morgan is tired of getting into trouble, and getting hurt. And she fears her wild nature is going to strike yet again. But maybe this time, she’s finally met the guy that can stand close enough to touch her inner flames, and not get burned. The man across Times Square seems enthralled by her wildness instead of scared in the face of it. He can’t seem to look away as she shows him just how much fun she can have… with herself.
After one glance of silky skin and talented fingers, Tyler Lachlan doesn’t stand a chance of resisting the delicious distraction of the mystery woman from the Marietta Hotel. He’s sure there’s more to her than her sultry voice and mahogany thighs, but he doesn’t know if he’s willing to risk his career to find out.
Could what began as a voyeuristic affair across Times Square develop into something more?
An Engagement in Paris Marietta Hotels Book 2
All Mandy Lachlan wanted was her own identity. All she had to do was run away to Paris to find it. Instead, she finds love, a baby, and a marriage proposal.
Julien Chevalier needs a family. Ever since his mother left when he was a kid, he’s been searching for the security and consistency that comes with marriage and babies. So when he falls for the young African American professor at the Sorbonne, he knows immediately this is the woman for him.
Julien needs to get married the same way Mandy needs her freedom. When they find themselves at the impasse of matrimony, one of them will have to compromise what they want and need.
A Love Affair in Las Vegas Marietta Hotels Prequel
Dawn Jansen has only ever wanted one thing: to provide a life for her daughter in New York City, away from the small-town minds of her family and her upbringing. She has fought hard to finally make it to manager at the Hauteman hotel, and one of her first duties is to attend a conference at the Marietta Las Vegas to learn all she can about running the show. But when she arrives in Las Vegas, her plans to learn as much as she can on a professional level, turns into learning far more about herself than her job. She may get a second-chance at this whole love thing after all.
Barnaby “Barney” Garrison has always had one goal in life: to help people. He’s found his calling as manager of the Marietta Times Square, and since his past failed relationship, has focused all of his energy on being the best manager he can be. This year, that means helping to run the Marietta Hotels second annual Hoteliers’ Conference in Vegas. But as soon as he notices Dawn in the crowd, his focus instantly splits, his desires for her swift and fierce. When he realizes the attraction is mutual, he doesn’t waste any time seducing her to his bed. But when he suspects she’s hiding something from him, he worries that maybe he’s just destined to attract two-timing women to his life.
Can what began as a fling in Vegas turn into something more once they’re home in New York? Or does what happen in Vegas truly stay in Vegas?
Rachell Nichole is a contemporary erotic romance author, who loves writing sexy romances about memorable characters who have to fight to hold on to love.
Rachell holds two undergraduate degrees, one in Professional Writing and the other in French. She also received a Master of Fine Arts in Writing Popular Fiction at Seton Hill University. She is the author of The Marietta Hotels Series, Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce, Gingerbread Photography, To Sir, Belle By Night, and Queen of Hearts.
Rachell lives in Pennsylvania with a mountain of books, the love of her life, and an invisible cat who likes to snuggle.
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a look at ‘Party Animal’ by Gale Stanley #gay #romance @galestanley @changelingpress

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PARTY ANIMAL by Gale Stanley

Roosters 6

Casey Cox is a porn star legend. Life is a never-ending party and there’s always a hot guy or two willing to play. Then Casey meets the one man who isn’t interested and suddenly it’s a challenge he can’t resist.

Get your copy at: Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Teaser

I stared at my reflection in the mirror and gave myself an eight out of ten. All those late nights were finally taking a toll. Would I give them up? Hell no! Life was a never-ending party, and the guest list changed every day. I liked it that way. Variety is the spice of life after all.

But right now, I needed to do damage control. I read somewhere that the eyes are the mirror of the soul. If that was true then my soul must be puffy, wrinkled, and bloodshot. It wasn’t a good look. Thank God for eye drops. A few in each eye made my whites pop. I practiced my sultry green stare in the mirror. Not bad, but the bags had to go. I reached for the Preparation H and applied it liberally. My sister swears by the stuff.

I’d showered and shaved at home, but my hair needed a redo. My trademark look is a messy bedhead, black locks flying every which way. I don’t like to disappoint the fans and it’s easy enough to get the look. It’s all about a good haircut and a few styling tricks, like gel.

I stepped back from the mirror to check out my body. No problems there. Six feet, two inches of lean muscle thanks to an exercise routine that keeps me camera ready. No matter how late I go to bed, I wake up early and use the small gym in my apartment building. A good workout always makes me feel better. Today, we’re shooting early, so I did a short routine, just long enough to break a sweat and get my blood pumping. Then it was SSME, and I’m not talking kinky sex. Shower, shave, moisturize, enema. I like to be clean for the close-up shots.

Yeah, I bare it all, but it’s all for the sake of art. I’m not kidding. One of my first jobs when I came to LA was as an artist’s model. At first, because of my strict upbringing, I was uncomfortable posing nude, but eventually I realized that the human body is a beautiful thing. It was a liberating experience.

Today, I’ve convinced myself that filming is an art form. There are thousands, maybe millions of guys out there staring at my naked body. What I do prompts an emotional response and gives them pleasure, just like other art forms. Art is in the eye of the beholder, after all. It’s one hell of an ego trip.

Check out all the books in the Roosters series: https://www.changelingpress.com/roosters-s-513

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

 

 

a look at ‘Don’t Let Go’ by Lynn Burke #Contemporary #Romance #BDSM @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

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Don’t Let Go

Darkest Desires #1

Publisher: Changeling Press
Keywords:  BDSM, Silver Fox, MayDecember, EroticRomance, FemDom, Domme, Contemporary, Novella, Series


Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.
Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.
Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?
PURCHASE LINKS: 
EXCERPT:
I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.
As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.
I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.
Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.
Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.
Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.
My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.
Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.
My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.
No such fucking luck.
I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.
A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.
Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.
“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.
I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.
A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.
I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.
Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.
She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.
From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.
My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.
I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.
“You will call me Mistress.”
© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/
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