Book Blitz & Excerpt: Claw + Giveaway

claw


Claw
by Ellen Mint
Coven of Desire, #1

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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He’s not your typical werewolf-next-door.

Layla hadn’t counted on a sex demon appearing in her living room. Nor did she expect to find she’s a witch, tasked with protecting the mortal realm. And now her friend, fellow nursing student and impossible crush could be a potential killer?

She’s silently lusted after Cal for a year, knowing a guy that hot, sweet and kind wouldn’t look twice at her. All their flirting was innocent and went nowhere, until Ink—the incubus bound to her—ran into her life and bed. Next thing she knows, Cal’s growling at her while Ink flirts, and women are being ripped apart by wild animals. Couldn’t the murder monster mystery wait until after finals?

She wanted to be a nurse, not a paranormal investigator, but Layla has no choice. Apparently only witches can stop these creatures that she didn’t even know existed a month ago. But the deeper she digs, the more it looks like Cal’s deep in the middle of it all. How can she save her friend from the claws of a cult, keep her sex-craved demon happy and find a way to let both into her heart and bed?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, peril, near death, blood and gore, and on-page death. There are references to a cult and inadequate parenting.

Author’s note: Everyone who buys a copy of Claw will receive the short story Retail Hell free. Set between the events of Ink and Claw in the Coven of Desire series, Layla’s workday from hell is interrupted by her personal sex demon.

Excerpt

An edge exists between the living and the dead, the celestial plane and the mortal realm, reality and its reflection. Upon that sliver of existence is where the witch—

“Damn it!” I gasped, nearly sending the book flying from the rash of tickles prickling across my stomach. “Ink…”

Breath hotter than brimstone twisted against the back of my ear as two hands caressed down my sides. I bit my lip, the ticklish nerves transforming to a different tremble. He pressed the full breadth of his palm to my jittery belly, working his way under the Bellpeppers uniform top.

Two weeks ago, I would have returned from work, tossed away my pants and fallen to the floor to dig into my nursing homework without a second’s pause. Having a personal incubus forever lurking at my elbow was going to take some getting used to, however. Ink’s attentions grew in fervor, the man slipping his fingers under my panties. He brushed back my hair with his other hand so he could place a kiss to my neck.

“I thought I was supposed to be studying,” I said even while losing to his demonic sway.

He grazed his teeth along my throat. “That’s not what you truly desire.”

Coming off a ten-hour night shift hauling cargo for the Friendliest Big Box store in the Midwest, I’d thought I’d only desired a quick meal and sleep. But my attempt at microwaving ramen had been foiled by the spell book left sitting on the kitchen table. It had demanded my attention like an obstinate cat about to break a vase if it didn’t get what it wanted.

A yawn rounded around my mouth, aching for its release, when Ink dove his coy fingers right to my clit. Holy shit! My body was wide awake now.

“Why don’t you sleep on me?” he said, tipping back onto the living room floor and splaying me on top of him.

All the while, he continued tantalizing my clit with a speed usually reserved for a ‘neck massager.’ I ramped up to orgasm in record time, Ink arching his hips against my lower back to press his monolith erection on me.

Breath sputtered from my lips, my exhausted body springing to life as I ground against him. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me witchcraft?”

“Interesting,” Ink mused in his melodic baritone. “You desire me in a tweed jacket and…carrying a yardstick?”

The flittering thought of Ink as the strict professor having to punish his one student crashed into a pool of guilt. I kept forgetting he could read my every desire, no matter how minute, the second it popped into my head. And he was more than happy to lean into the depravity.

“Tell me, Ms. Leeland.” He startled me from my inner turmoil. “What is the counter-ward for the acidic saliva of a manticore?”

“A…a pentagram with—”

“Wrong!” Ink shouted and slapped my inner thigh. It wasn’t hard, but loud enough that I jumped in shock. Ink didn’t remove his palm, but strained my leg to the breaking point while he caressed and threatened another slap up and down my inner thigh.

“What is the plant that ensures the dead stay six feet under?”

My brain sputtered smoke. I had read something about plants. But then there were all the pharmaceutical questions I’d studied for my real job. Witch hazel? Belladonna? Quinine? Foxglove? Pacific Yew?

“We need an answer, Ms. Leeland,” Ink ordered, his voice crackling with a growl as he traced his nails up and down my skin.

“Periwinkle?”

He cupped my chin in his hand, twisting it until I caught his eyes. Flames danced in his irises, and his lips nearly pressed to my cheek. “Nice try, but very wrong.”

“Holy fuck!”

With demonic speed, he parted my legs using just his knees and thrust his cock inside me. With one hand, he pinned my hip back against his body so I could feel every thrust from his pelvis cradling my ass. Roughing out of my hair, Ink reached up to grab my hand and pinned me by my wrist.

“Shall we play a new game?” he asked. My body strained at the breaking point, balanced upon the demon dick inside me. Thunderous energy pounded in waves from my heart up to my throat, leaving me clenching my bare toes into the rug while Ink pressed on both of my thighs.

“What…what game?” I gulped, the blood pooling in my head and nether regions with alarming speed. If this lasted any longer, I was liable to pass out…or worse.

Ink brushed the length of his sharp nose from the hollow of my jaw up to my ear. “For every answer you get right, you receive a thrust of eternal bliss.”

Fuck. I squirmed in anticipation, flexing my fingers inside his grip. But the fact that I’d barely had two seconds to do more than crack open my spell book in days cooled my blood. “And if I get it wrong?”

He released a rumble loud enough to be heard at the end of days. “You shall see,” was Ink’s response and he drew a single nail across my thigh. “What is—?”

The first five bars of White Wolves of Winter blared from behind me. Without a second’s thought, I snaked my hand from Ink’s fading grip and grabbed my phone. It took a moment for me to read it, fuzz blanketing my brain.

Dana was calling.

“Oh shit!” I shouted. In one deft move, I rolled off Ink to my knees. “I completely forgot.” I kept narrating while cramming back on my shitty dark gray jeans. What else did I need? Book bag? Did I load it last night before work?

Of course I didn’t. I never plan ahead.

While shoving my mass of books worth the cost of a used car into a flimsy messenger bag, I glanced at the man left lying on my rug. Black hair thicker than a bear’s lay in curly waves surrounding his head. A treasure trove of the same caressed down the dangerous muscles of his body, but parted at the monstrous erection prodding free.

Ink wore nothing but a smile when he wandered around my place, no doubt much to the delight of the random saleslady who’d dropped her catalogs for seventy-dollar micro-cloths and run for the hills when he answered the door.

Tearing my eyes off the man ready to pound me to heaven wasn’t easy. “I have a study date… With Dana and Fariah.”

Curling a hand under his high cheekbone, Ink twisted onto his side to watch me. I kept dashing about the apartment, trying to not glance at his ass. Do not give in to the bubble, Layla. This is important.

“We have a test coming up,” I kept explaining as if Ink was my keeper, but he wafted a hand through the air like a Roman emperor dismissing a servant.

“Yes, yes, go on to your university issue.”

I clung white-knuckled to my backpack. Despite him being an incubus, a literal sex demon that gained energy by fucking, the second I needed to get away he let me go. No questions. No complaints.

If I had any lingering doubts that he could be a human, the sight of him with a giant erection—nearly at the point of no return—and not a single challenge to my exit proved that was impossible. Fisting my keys between my fingers out of habit, I turned to the door.

“What will you do?” I began, my gut boiling as I spun back to the man with a sequoia in his lack-of-pants. “While I’m gone, I mean?”

That delectable and devious smile returned. Ink hopped to his feet, his hands grazing the carpet before he rose to stand before me. The flames had doused in his eyes, leaving only the amber shine behind. “I will wait for you.”

A blush burned on my cheeks and I felt like a teenager who just had the hottest guy in school look at her from across the cafeteria. Why did I even think that he’d…? Never mind. Shaking my head, I undid the lock on my apartment and moved to slip out without anyone peeking in.

“My bond,” Ink called to me. He stared me straight in the eye and curled a hand around his cock. “When you return, the game will resume.”

Fuck! Blushing so hard that my black hair turned red, I ran from my apartment and the incubus contained within.

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About the Author

Ellen Mint

Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She recently won the Top Ten Handmaid’s Challenge on Wattpad where hers was chosen by Margaret Atwood. Her books, Undercover Siren and Fever are available at Amazon as well as a short story in the Lucky Between The Sheets anthology. Married, she lives in Nebraska with her dog named after Granny Weatherwax. Her hobbies include gaming, painting, and halloween prop making. The basement is full of skeletons because they ran out of room in the closets.

You can find Ellen at her website here and also on Bookbub.

Giveaway

Enter to win a fabulous gift package and get a FREE eBook from the author!

Ellen Mint’s Claw Giveaway

Enter for your chance to win romance author Ellen Mint’s Prize Package and get a FREE eBook from the author! Notice: This competition ends on 30th March 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Book Blitz: Sensation Fantasies Boxset, by Kimberly Knight

SENSATION FANTASIES SB BANNER

Title: Sensation Fantasies Boxset
Author: Kimberly Knight
Genre: Erotic Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

From USA Today bestselling author Kimberly Knight, comes three short, steamy reads that you won’t want to put down.

Sensation.

A sacred place free from judgment or inhibitions.

The only rule: Ask before you touch.

Sensation is an exclusive black-tie party attended by at least one hundred and fifty of the clubs most privileged members, and held once a month at an undisclosed mansion in Beverly Hills. 

You may watch.

You may interact.

You can come together or you can choose to come alone.

The choice is yours.

Would you like it rough?

Would you like to be caressed and worshipped?

Or would you simply like to observe?

What do you desire?

 

Kimberly Knight is a USA Today Bestselling author who lives in the mountains near a lake in California with her loving husband, who is a great research assistant, and daughter, who keeps Kimberly on her toes. Kimberly writes in a variety of genres including romantic suspense, contemporary romance, erotic romance, and paranormal romance. Her books will make you laugh, cry, swoon, and fall in love before she throws you curve balls you never see coming.
When Kimberly isn’t writing, you can find her watching her favorite reality TV shows, binge-watching true crime documentaries, and going to San Francisco Giants games. She’s also a two-time desmoid tumor/cancer fighter, which has made her stronger and an inspiration to her fans.

 

 

99 CENTS FOR A LIMITED TIME!
 

 

 

 

Book Blitz & Excerpt: At His Mercy + Giveaway

At His Mercy Banner

At His Mercy
by Elvira Bell

Word Count: 22,321
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 90
Genres: EROTIC ROMANCE, FANTASY, GAY, GLBTQI, HISTORICAL

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Book Description

 

A thief and his captor… A spicy demand in exchange for freedom. Will Lio give in to the lord of the manor?

Young thief Lio should have known better than to steal from the mighty Lord Callen. After he’s been locked up in a cold cell in Callen’s manor, he’s told that he’ll be set free on one condition—that he agrees to share Callen’s bed for one night. Lio refuses, but can’t help wondering what sleeping with Callen might be like. Callen, on the other hand, takes the rejection badly and thinks Lio finds him old and unattractive. He can’t stop thinking about the pretty boy with the white hair though, and they’re about to overcome their hostility toward one another when something happens that brutally cuts off their budding friendship and causes Callen to throw Lio out headfirst.

For months they are apart. Callen isolates himself in his chamber, enraged and bitter, while Lio struggles to make it through the winter. In the end, starvation forces him to seek out the last man he wants to see—Lord Callen. Callen, who resents him and does nothing to hide it. Will Lio be able to get through to him? Will they ever have what they both want—each other?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, threats of sexual harrassment, captivity and homophobia.

Excerpt

They never should have taken the forest road at night.

“We could go back,” Lio said, stumbling after his father on the muddy path. “That cottage we passed a mile back, maybe we could…”

Athos grunted, his boots leaving large, wet prints in the sludge. Almost doubled over from the weight of the burlap bag, he looked like a hunchback. “You’ll walk until I tell you to stop.”

Lio drew his hand over his eyes to wipe the icy rain away. “But…” He racked his brains for words that might make his father see reason. They were far away from the manor by now, and they had merely taken some tools and iron from the smithy, after the smith and his apprentice had left for the day. With luck, the theft wouldn’t be noticed until morning. Lord Callen certainly had enough gold to replace the tongs and hammers he’d lost. To Lio’s family, though, the stolen goods meant they could repair the hole in the roof, and his father could forge nails and horseshoes the villagers would be only too happy to pay for. Athos had been a blacksmith once, in his youth, but Lio had never dared ask why he had left such a good profession. His work was fine, and although there were some people who’d never buy anything made by his hands, he could make enough money this way to see them through the winter.

Athos coughed, a nasty, hollow sound Lio was all too familiar with.

“Father, you’re not well. Let me carry it.”

“No!” Athos spun around to give him a wild look. He towered over Lio, the way he always had. “I don’t take orders from a whelp like you, understand? While you’re living in my house, lad, you do as I tell you.” He coughed again, but pressed on through the darkness. The lantern swinging in his hand wasn’t strong enough to light up much of the surroundings, and a shiver ran down Lio’s spine at the thought of packs of wolves out on the hunt, or trolls and monsters eager to lure wanderers into their lairs. Traveling through the woods in daytime wasn’t so bad, though he wouldn’t like doing it without company, but everyone knew that one shouldn’t be out after dark. His mother would scold them when they got home—if they did. Lio had accompanied his father on similar business before, but they had been closer to home then and back by the hearth before midnight. Athos didn’t steal unless there were no other options, and before this he had only taken the odd bread loaf or piece of meat from those of the nearby farmers who spat after him and his family. ‘Only steal from those who deserve it,’ he had told Lio often. Lio didn’t know much about Lord Callen, but if he owned half as much land and gold as people said he did, he deserved it more than most. It wasn’t fair that someone like him had everything, while others starved.

“I can carry the lantern, at least,” he tried, uneasy at the sound of his father’s labored breathing.

“The lantern?” Athos scoffed. “It weighs nothing. Now be quiet, all right? I brought you as a lookout. Wouldn’t expect a wisp of a thing like you to carry anything, would I?”

Lio bit back an angered reply. He was small compared to his father, it was true, closer in height to his mother and with her slender build, too. From her he had his ghostly pale hair as well, that made the villagers hiss ‘Devil-child’ and other such nonsense after him. The one thing he had from his father was the dark color of his eyes. His little brother and sisters had those eyes, too, but their hair was dark as coal. He often wished his own was, too.

Wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to get warm, he wondered how far they had left. Their cottage was on the other side of the woods, in a clearing out of sight from any other people. The nearest farm was only a short walk away, but Lio and his family had never been counted among the villagers who were their neighbors. Young women sought out his mother secretly, when her herbs were the only thing that might help them end unwanted pregnancies or cure their sick babies. His father was the one the villagers called for when they needed shameful or dangerous tasks done, like gelding foals or burying disease-spreading corpses. Shame, filth—that was all they were associated with. They always had been.

A strange sound pierced through the roaring of the rain. The neighing of a horse? He stopped, throwing anxious looks around him. “Father, did you—”

“Quiet!” Athos trudged on, muttering to himself. The rain streamed down Lio’s face, plastering his hair to his skin. He shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or from fear. Another sound came through the darkness—a voice? Several voices?

“Father, run!” But he hadn’t taken more than a step forward before someone grabbed him by the neck, pulling him back. In front of him he saw his father stop as a rider blocked his path. A dark-clad man on a black steed, carrying a torch in his hand. His hair was obscured by a helmet. There were four men in total, including the one with the forceful grip on Lio’s neck. Lio struggled in vain to free himself, and the man chuckled in a low, raspy voice.

“Well,” said the rider in black, as two of his henchmen closed in on Athos with their swords drawn. “We found our prey at last. Did you really think I’d allow anyone to steal from me?” His voice was smooth but cold. It was difficult to tell his age—Lord Callen was hardly a young man, but he was well-built and tall, with broad shoulders and a straight, proud posture. His eyes were just as icy as his voice.

Athos dropped the burlap sack, rising to his full height and taking a step closer to Callen, as if to challenge him. “You’ve got enough for a whole village, but we ain’t got a thing!”

“Oh, is that so?” Callen curled his lip. “While I applaud your courage, I really can’t let a thing like this slide. You understand, surely? Men, how should we punish this pitiful crime?”

“Their right hands,” said one of the henchmen, giving Athos a nudge with the blunt side of his sword. “Off with them.”

“Death,” suggested another man with an ugly grin. “That’d stop them from doing it again, my lord.”

Callen nodded. “Why, certainly, but I personally feel it’s a tad…boring?” His cool gaze landed on Lio’s face. He scrutinized him for a few moments before turning away. “Seize them,” he said. “We bring them with us.”

“I’ve got little ones at home, sir!” Athos called out. “They’ve had nothing to eat for the last week, and me and my wife—”

“What a pity,” Callen said.

Athos roared, trying to make a run for it, but one of Callen’s men stabbed his sword into his shoulder before he’d gotten away. Callen snorted as Athos was tied up and thrown over the back of one of the horses as if he were a sack of flour. Lio stared, his eyes fixed on his father’s shape. That wound… How bad is it?

“Now the boy,” said Callen.

“Yes,” murmured the man who held Lio captive. He jumped to the ground and pulled Lio toward him, his breath hot and revolting against Lio’s neck. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Let me go!” Lio squirmed, but the man quickly tied his wrists together and put him face down in front of the saddle before mounting the horse again. Lio’s breath hitched in his throat as the man put a big, gloved hand on the back of his thigh.

“Keep still now,” he said, voice low. “Filthy little thief. You’re going to regret what you’ve done.”

Yes. As the riders started retracing their tracks through the woods, back to Lord Callen’s manor, Lio thought bitterly that he regretted everything. He couldn’t see his father, but he heard his pained groans and whimpers, and the men shouting at him to keep quiet. If only he could do something! What would happen to them once they reached the manor? His father’s injury—how bad was it? His mother would have been able to stop the blood—she would have healed him in no time. But Lio didn’t have any of her knowledge. He couldn’t do anything but hope, in spite of everything, that they would make it out of this alive.

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About the Author

Elvira Bell

Elvira Bell lives in Sweden and spends most of her time writing, reading or watching movies. Her weaknesses include, but are not limited to: vintage jazz, musicals, kittens, oversized tea cups, men in suits, the 18th century, and anything sparkly.

Elvira writes m/m romance and has a penchant for historical settings. She adores all things gothic and will put her characters through hell from time to time because she just loves watching them suffer. It makes the happy endings so much sweeter, after all.

Find out more at Elvira’s website.

 

Giveaway

Enter to win a fabulous gift package and get a First For Romance Gift Card!

Evira Bell’s At His Mercy Giveaway

ELVIRA BELL IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GET A FIRST FOR ROMANCE GIFT CARD! Notice: This competition ends on 16th March 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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