Monday, August 10, 2020

S.E.X. Review~ Capture by Annabelle Jacobs


Thrown together, forced to fake a relationship both their lives depend on…

To be a dragon rider is all Nykin ever wanted. Destined from birth, and forged by magic at the age of twenty-one, he earns his place in the king’s army. But it’s not the only thing he dreams of. Lusting after the king maybe be foolish, but that doesn’t stop Nykin’s pulse from racing whenever he’s near.

Ryneq always knew he’d rule Torsere one day, but never expected it to happen quite so soon. The death of his parents forced him into a role he wasn’t prepared for and a romantic attachment is low on his list of priorities. Yet still Nykin manages to catch his interested and hold it.

With his land under threat from the lowland armies, an alliance with the elves seems Ryneq’s only option to protect the kingdom. But seeing it to fruition is fraught with danger and even the best laid plans can be thwarted. With hope all but lost, Nykin embarks on a deadly mission, willing risk everything for his duty and his king.

Featuring forced proximity, fake relationships, all wrapped up in a romantic fantasy full of suspense and intrigue. Capture is the first book in the Torsere trilogy.

Previously published with Dreamspinner Press.




I enjoyed Capture (Torsere Book 1) by Annabelle Jacobs. Not usually a fan of books that require a glossary, Capture did not disappoint and the book was easy to follow. The King of Torsere, Ryneq and dragon rider Nykin made an imposing pair. Circumstances brought the two men together for the greater good of the kingdom and the safety of all, allowing them to also explore their attraction and act upon it.

I enjoyed the personalities of both Ryneq and Nykin, but especially the dragon rider. Fimor the bonded dragon to Nykin stole the show with his humor and wit. Slightly temperamental, the dragon added to the overall storyline and gave the reader a greater glimpse between rider and dragon.

Ms. Jacobs’s world was unique with twists and turns and open ended to allow the evolution of the subsequent books. As a fan of Ms. Jacobs, I look forward to reading the remainder of the series.

Sexy & Sizzling 
A four handcuff review

~~~~~

2020 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

S.E.X. Cover Reveal~ A Brush of Blue by V.L. Locey





Release Date: August 12

Cover Design: Designs By Sloan

Colors Of Love Series

Book #1 - Lost In Indigo - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 - Touch Of A Yellow Sun - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 - The Good Green Earth - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 - Slow Dances Under An Orange Moon - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

The most difficult of life’s choices might be the one we make when we open our hearts to another.

Landon Reece is the ultimate Manhattan athlete. The elite goalie for the New York Metros is rich, handsome, generous, and purposely single. His life has been a whirlwind of fancy cars, beautiful people, museum galas, and championship rings. Landon now has one year left on his multi-million dollar contract, and the talk around town isn’t good. Despite carrying his team to the pinnacle of success, the aging goalie is hearing rumors that his contract might not be renewed next season. Hoping to curtail the rumors and show the Metros he still has what it takes, Landon and his agent set up a press tour to hopefully remind the fans—and Metros’ management—just how important Landon is to New York City.

During one of a hundred appearances on the tour, Landon finds himself a guest on the newest and hottest late night talk show in the Big Apple. There he meets Montrell Pittman, leader of the show’s band, A Brush of Blue, and his senses come alive. He resolves to do his best to woo the upbeat, sexy musician who ignites his blood like no other person ever has. As the two men grow closer, Landon’s ice time shows how happy his new romance is making him. Then a tragedy rocks his world, and Landon finds himself wallowing in despair and in danger of losing the man who might be the only one who can clear his blues away.

USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.




a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~
2020 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Friday, July 24, 2020

S.E.X. Review~ Pieces of Us by N.R. Walker

This is the final installment in this series and is not a standalone. Reading further will contain spoilers. 




Blurb

Missing Pieces Series, Book Three

As Justin’s recovery moves forward, Dallas dares to hope their lives are settling into their new normal. His money worries have eased, business is picking up, and best of all, Justin now laughs more than he frowns.

Justin’s memory still eludes him, but with each snippet or flashback, small pieces of his old life start to slot into place. He remembers more of Dallas and how perfectly happy their lives used to be, and with each passing day, Justin realises he can have that again.
But when someone from Justin’s past turns up, he discovers that not all the missing pieces are good, and sadly, he and Dallas also learn just what it means to live with a traumatic brain injury.

If Dallas and Justin have to fight for their Happily Ever After, then Dallas will stop at nothing—nothing—to give Justin the life he always wanted.

“. . . as I tried to put the puzzle of myself back together, it was the pieces of us that made me whole.”

Excerpt ~

I was up before Dallas, which was unusual, drinking my decaf coffee and staring out the kitchen window. He was normally awake before me, but a headache somewhere around five in the morning had me up searching for my pills. Headaches were nothing new; sometimes I’d catch myself thinking life was returning to normal, but then the constant pain inside my head reminded me otherwise.
I was so used to headaches now I barely registered them. That continuous ache was sometimes dull, sometimes sharp, but always there. Except for this morning when it woke me up.
I was never too cheerful in the morning, but today I was feeling particularly sorry for myself. Not even watching Dallas sleep improved my mood. If anything, it made me feel even shittier. He was so good to me. He was, without doubt, too good for me as well.
But for some stupid reason, he loved me. He loved me before the accident, and that didn’t change anything for him. If anything, he reckoned it made him realise he loved me more now. It had been a lesson in taking things for granted, he’d said. I could see it in his eyes just how much he loved me. Those hazel-grey eyes couldn’t hide a thing, and I found myself recognising his moods in them.
Losing myself in them.
Dallas had said that we fell in love hard and fast the first time, and it was much the same for me the second time. He was caring, attentive, thoughtful, funny . . . everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was also tall, strong, and handsome. How on earth I’d ever scored him once was a mystery to me. The fact he stuck around for a second time was just crazy.
But stuck around he had.
I hated to think where I’d be without him. If I’d decided not to go home with him when we’d left the hospital—not that I had anywhere else to go—well, they would have found me somewhere, apparently. But my heart said to go with him, and now I knew why.
Because my heart knew him.
My heart loved him.
And on days when I felt like shit—not just physically, but emotionally as well—I just felt . . . useless.
Like a kid who needed babysitting. Who couldn’t walk up or down stairs without supervision, who couldn’t even have a shower in the house by himself. And being at work was like my first day as a sixteen-year-old apprentice. I knew it was all for my safety or whatever, but that just pissed me off. I wasn’t a kid. I wasn’t incompetent. I knew how to do this stuff. And some days my brain was slow as hell; but some days my mind was fine and it was my body that betrayed me.
I hated being like this.
I hated being so dependent on other people. I hated that Dallas had to look after me like I was a toddler and how Sparra had to babysit me at work. I hated that I was aware of just how much I couldn’t do, of how much I used to do and now couldn’t.
We’d spent a few hours on Saturday at Jimmy and Nancy’s house, and I was so wiped out, it put my arse on the couch for all of Sunday. I napped on and off all damn day. I tried to do a few things around the flat with Dallas but was no good at anything.
He’d simply kissed me with a smile and told me to rest while he pottered about getting everything done while I parked up in front of the damn TV like a simpleton.
I couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d put up with it. How long would it take until he realised he could have any guy he wanted who didn’t have a brain injury? That didn’t have a fucked-up leg and who didn’t speak slow?
I heard the bedroom door open and didn’t even have to turn around. The sound of his feet got closer, then his huge warm hand slid up my back. “Hey,” he murmured. “I woke up alone.”
I sighed, now feeling even shittier than before. “Sorry. Headache woke me up and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Oh, you feel okay?” he asked, concerned. “Want me to get your pills?”
I turned then and offered a small smile. “I already took one, thanks.”
He put his fingers to my chin and inspected my eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “I feel . . .” I couldn’t find the right word. And it wasn’t aphasia. There were just too many words to choose from: awful, like shit, bad, low, worthless, horrible, useless . . .  “Sad.”
Frowning, Dallas took my empty coffee cup from me, put it on the sink, and pulled me into his arms. Into those huge, strong, and warm arms, holding me against his chest where I was safe and protected and completely enclosed. I could feel my worries dissipate, and the tension left my shoulders as I melted into him.
It was such a relief and so comforting, I could have cried.
I was stupid to think for one second that I could live without him. Well, not that I thought I could, but I had wondered why he didn’t leave me. I wouldn’t survive this without him.
He rubbed my back and took deep, calming breaths which I somehow unknowingly mimicked, making myself feel a little better.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replied. His voice rumbled smoothly in his chest against my ear. He never moved to let go of me or even pull away. “Did you feel sad for any reason? Or just because.”
“Just because.” I sighed since that felt like such an easy way out. I needed to talk about this. I owed him that. “I just feel . . . I hate being useless and I hate how my brain doesn’t work sometimes. I hate that you have to look after me, and I hate that I can’t do everything. I just woke up feeling pretty low today.”
He rubbed my back some more and kissed the side of my head. “I get that,” he said, still hugging me. “And you’re allowed to feel those things. I can tell you that you’re not useless, but I don’t want to make what you feel isn’t valid. Because if you feel it, then it’s real and we need to work on why you feel like that.” He pulled back then and cupped my face. “But baby, you’re the strongest guy I know. You’re determined and capable, and you’ve accomplished more in the last two months than you realise. I know you must be frustrated with everything, and I don’t blame you. But if you could just see how far you’ve come.”
I frowned, because I certainly didn’t feel like that.
“You’re allowed to feel useless and frustrated. And angry and sad,” Dallas added. “Thank you for telling me.”
I sighed again, sagging against the kitchen counter. “I would be so lost without you,” I mumbled.
He kissed my forehead and pressed me up against the cupboard and wrapped his strong arms around me again, squishing my face into his chest. “I’d be lost without you too,” he replied. But then one arm was gone from around me as he reached over to the kettle and flicked it on. “I’d be lost without coffee too.”
That made me smile, despite my mood. “You drink decaf now.” Another change he’d made for me.
“Just because it’s a bit different now doesn’t mean I still don’t need it,” he replied. I was certain that was aimed at me and not all about coffee. Because I was a bit different now and he still needed me . . .
Then he shuffled me over so he could keep one arm around me while he reached for the cups. “You can let go of me,” I suggested.
“Nope. I can do both. I can make two coffees and give good hugs.”
I managed a chuckle. How had he managed to make me laugh? “Yes, you can.”
He turned his head. “Uh. The milk’s in the fridge. Black coffee it is.”
I pushed him away with a laugh. “Get the milk.”
He quickly grabbed the milk and came straight back to his spot, which was pressed tight against me, pushing me against the cupboard with one arm around me. I gladly hugged him back, using the magic of his hugs to fix me for as long as I could.
“Coffees are done.” He sipped his. “Now, shall I try for toast?”
I chuckled again. “Depends where the bread is.”
He leaned and stretched. “Got it.”
But the margarine was in the fridge so he had to let go of me, which gave me a chance to sip my fresh coffee. He made breakfast and we shared triangles of Vegemite toast, and by the time we’d showered and dressed for work, I was feeling better.
I should have stayed in bed and hugged him there rather than getting up and wallowing by myself. Dallas knew how to fix me, and I was stupid to pretend otherwise.
He stopped me at the door. “You sure you’re feeling up to work today?” Dallas asked. “How’s your headache?”
“It’s okay. And yeah, I need to work today.”
He grinned. “Good. Because I need you to work today. You’re part of the team, Juss, and I need all hands on deck this morning.”
And there he went, telling me how not useless I was without even trying. I was part of the team. He needed me. No matter how small a job I did, he needed me to do it. I gave him a nod and even managed a smile. “Okay.”
With that beautiful smile, he led the way downstairs. He had me open the front roller door and unlock the front gates; then he wanted me to check the stock levels and see if anything else needed to be reordered.
I knew what he was doing.
He was making me not useless.
Sneaky bastard.
By the time Davo and Sparra arrived, I was actually feeling pretty good about myself. They were both keen to use the new coffee machine, so that gave us some time to talk about our weekends until we were interrupted by our first clients of the day.
Sparra and I went to work on an old Yamaha while Davo serviced an ATV, and Dallas did some time in his office until another client dropped off a KTM. “Hey, Juss, I need you with me for this,” he said.
It was gonna be a pretty big job. The rider had stacked it on the trails, and there was damage to the front forks, suspension, steering shaft, handlebars, and the front tyre would need replacing. The rider, the teen nephew of the owner, was okay, thankfully. But they’d learned an expensive lesson about going downhill on a loose surface using front brakes. Such a rookie mistake on an awesome bike.
And for a few hours, Dallas had me doing everything I could physically do. He let me take lead and he helped me when I needed it. He was proving a point—that I wasn’t useless—and when we’d taken the front brake hose line clamp off and we were on opposite sides of the bike, I watched as he ratcheted a bolt undone, concentration and sweat on his brow. He caught me smiling at him. “What?” he asked quietly.
“I love you,” I replied. I hadn’t meant to say those words, not in the workshop, not so blasé. Davo and Sparra hadn’t heard a thing, not that I cared. But holy shit, this man . . .
His smile became a grin, the ratchet in his hand forgotten. He seemed a little lost for words.
“I know what you’re doing,” I added. “Giving me jobs I can do, making me feel not useless.”
He chuckled and put the tool down. “Just proving a point. Did it work?”
“Maybe.”
“It totally worked.”
I laughed but met his eyes. “You do these little things for me, to help me, without having to say a thing. Everything you do for me, you do because you love me, and it’s like the saying ‘actions speak louder than words.’ I never really knew what that meant. But now I do.”
His eyes softened. “Juss . . .”
“It’s an amazing feeling knowing you’re loved, so I wanted you to know too. I’ve said it before, but I wanted to say it again. I need you to know, Dall.”
He walked around my side of the bike, took my face in his hands, and kissed me. It was all soft lips and scruffy beard and far too brief. He pulled back and put his forehead to mine. “I know you love me, Juss. But you can tell me as many times as you want.”
“I love you,” I whispered this time, and he closed his eyes and smiled as though he could just bathe in those words.


N.R. Walker Bio

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.
She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.
She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

For more about N.R. Walker you can find her at:
Website
Facebook Readers’ Group
Facebook Author Page
Twitter
Instagram
Amazon
Audible
Bookbub
Email:

nrwalker@nrwalker.net



Pieces of Us by N.R. Walker was the final installment of the Missing Pieces series and the culmination of one of the best series this reviewer has read. You must start from the beginning to understand the scope and care of Dallas and Justin’s story, as well as the world building displayed by Ms. Walker.

The writing was flawless and the characterizations superbly written. Each word carefully placed, lending itself to laughter and tears, drama and tranquility. Ms. Walker created a universal and timeless story of love with in sickness and in health.

I adored Justin and Dallas and felt every nuance they created and endured. Justin and Dallas survived a tragic accident in book one, and throughout each book their bond grew stronger. Ms. Walker created a realistic story, not a fantasy world where the unattainable was attained. The Missing Pieces series could be anyone’s life story of triumph over tragedy.

The secondary characters, especially Davo and Sparra were wonderfully a part of the overall story. Each character brought something new and important to the table and enhanced each scene. The bond and family the men created was palpable and the love and joy they shared radiated.

Ms. Walker has a way of drawing the reader into the story and you become a part of it as opposed to an outsider turning the pages. That was what Pieces of Us and the Missing Pieces series did.

If there was ever a series of books that should be made into a motion picture, Missing Pieces should be the series. A tearjerker which would rival any Christmas time (insert specific network) movie.

Ms. Walker, you created a masterpiece.
Definite S.E.X.
A five handcuff review

~~~~~
2020 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Monday, July 20, 2020

S.E.X. Review~ The Devil's Cum in His Eye by James Cox

The Devil's Cum in His EyeCop by day, erotic writer by night, stripper on the weekends and Tomkin Coburn just found a dead body in his bedroom. But which occupation lead to murder?

Coburn has his teenage son in tow and a detective that seems to be interested in his butt as well as his innocence. He’ll do anything to protect his kid and the intense feelings he has for Detective Luke Early. The evidence quickly mounts up against Coburn, murder weapon, body fluids and oh yeah, no one in the world seems to know who the dead guy is.

Together, Coburn and Luke find themselves in the path of a killer but can they unravel the mystery before it’s too late?




The title immediately intrigued me, and I was not sure if I would get romance or erotic romance; but I was pleasantly surprised as to the likeability of The Devil’s Cum in His Eye. James Cox’s fast read packed a lot into it but left me wanting for more.

A book with sexy cops was always a find for this reader, and add a murder mystery, and I am hooked. While I liked the premise of the story, I found it a bit simplistic and things easily solved, fitting into a nicely wrapped package. Maybe if the book was longer, then more back story and more mystery could have been delivered- I needed more.

Cop by day, erotic writer by night, stripper on the weekends” ~ part of the blurb, but none of the descriptors really played a major part in the storyline~ More of a blasé inception. While I like both Coburn and Luke, I never connected with either man. Although, I think the men were perfect for each other. Tom’s son was a nice young man, and one could tell the author wanted to promote good parenting techniques by the boy’s manners and mannerisms. But, a few things Tom did, as a parent I thought to myself: Oh hell no!

Maybe not my favorite James Cox story but the basic structure kept me engaged. For that and the sweet sex scenes…..

Sexy & Sizzling
A four handcuff review 

~~~~~
2020 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Friday, July 17, 2020

S.E.X. Book Release & Giveaway~ Tennessee's Whiskey by L. Loren

Tennessee's Whiskey

The Whiskey Collection Book 1

Genre: Contemporary Interracial Romance 

Blurb

Grad student, Patricia Woods finds herself on the brink of homelessness.
Needing a job that pays immediately, she reluctantly sets her sights on the local
redneck bar where the bikers are notorious, and the tips are flowing.
All she wants is to make a little cash to pay her way through school, but what she
finds is so much more. Her dream of finally having a family to call her own is just
beyond her reach.


Single father, Weston Daniels, has built a nice life for him and his five-year old
son. After escaping the “family business” all he wants is the peace and quiet of
the south, and an occasional romp with a nameless woman.
He has a change of heart, when a beautiful African American woman dressed in
orange bombards his bar.
When his past catches up with him, he is faced with choosing between her life
and the happiness he desires.

Excerpt

My ex, Beth Ann slung her bleach blonde tresses over her shoulder calling attention to her over inflated breasts that cost me a pretty penny right after my son was born. She complained so much about how breast feeding had made her breasts sag that I paid for the surgery just to shut her up. She was one of those girls who was always chasing something better. She barely made time for little Wes, so I wasn’t exactly surprised to see her show up before her weekend with our son barely got started.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, little man.”
I caught my son as he launched his body at me like a missile. He was rough and tumble and the spitting image of his old man. The only reason I got a DNA test was for the courts. I knew he was mine from birth. He had the Daniels genes for sure. My no-good ex took a seat at the bar and looked up at me expectantly. I hated her. She was a horrible girlfriend and an even worse mother. The only reason I tolerated her shit was because my boy deserved to have his mother in his life. Too bad I fucked up and chose the wrong woman for the job.
“Weston, I need you to take him. I have an audition and I can’t be late.”
“Audition? I didn’t know you had to try out for stripper poles. What do they do, measure your height and assign the pole accordingly?”
She rolled her eyes that looked like they had bat wings attached to the lids. Why the hell did women wear those fake eyelashes? They looked like they would take flight at any minute. This woman was getting on my nerves. She knew I had to work and couldn’t have little Wes in the bar. It was a violation and my liquor license could be revoked. I had told her time and again, but she never listened.
“Funny, but you need to take your son. I have shit to do.”
“Beth Ann, this is your weekend to spend time with your child. Why did you schedule an audition for tonight? You know I can’t have him here. Look around you. This is a bar!”
The bitch had the nerve to laugh before standing from her seat and shaking her ass at me. She walked away and then right before she reached the door, turned to look at me over her left shoulder while tossing that damn hair.
“Deal with it. I’ll see you next month.”
I wanted to smash every piece of glass I could get my hands on, but little Wes didn’t need to see that shit. Now what was I going to do with little man while the bar was open. His nanny was out of town and there was no one for me to call. My frustration got the best of me and I picked up a glass and flung it across the bar. I was about to fling another one when Tennessee popped up and took it from my hand. Placing it on the counter, she glared at me before turning to Wes and smiling.
“Well, who is this handsome young man?”
“My name is Wes. You’re pretty. Wanna be my girl?”
That was enough to calm the beast inside me. My boy was just like his old man, only I didn’t ask for relationships. He was too young to learn that lesson though. Curious to see her reaction, I leaned against the bar and folded my arms over my chest.
“Wow, that is the best offer I have had in a very long time. How old are you?”
“I’m this many.” My son held his hand up and counted to five for the pretty lady who was smiling at him like he was the only person in the room. Wes wasn’t used to being the center of a woman’s attention unless they were trying to get in good favor with me.
“You are very tall for five and handsome too. But to be my boyfriend you have to have a job. Do you have a job, Wes?”
My son sat looking at the woman who had captured his heart in just a moment of knowing her, and thought. His brow furrowed and then a lightbulb went off. You could see it in his eyes the moment it happened. He smiled up at Tennessee like she hung the moon. He opened his little lips and what came out next shocked even me.
“I have a job and it is important. I take care of Daddy.”
He nodded his head like it was the best answer in the world and to me it was. We had had that conversation before. I told him my job was to take care of him, but he felt left out so I told him his was to take care of me. I guess he took it to heart.
“Wow! That’s a very big job! I bet you’re good at it too.”
He looked at me for confirmation. I smiled and nodded my head, giving him the go ahead.
“Yep. So now you can be my girl.”
“Hold on! I have one more question. How much does that job pay because we can’t live off of love alone?”
My little man rubbed his hands together as his little mind worked to find a solution to his new problem. He wasn’t old enough to have an allowance yet so that was a no go. He had a piggy bank, but it wasn’t nearly full. He scratched his head and looked to me for help. I laughed and shook my head.
“Oh no, don’t look at me. I’m not paying for your girlfriends. If you want a good woman like Tennessee, here, you got to get a job. That’s the only way you can keep her. You have to take her out on dates and buy her ice cream and pretty jewelry. All of that takes money.”
“Well,” he says, “as soon as I get a job, I’ll come back and ask you again.”
Tennessee chuckled and gave him a hug. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”
I watched as my little boy fell hard for his first crush. If he were a cartoon character, his heart would be beating outside of his chest. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I definitely couldn’t blame him. She was bewitching. If I had it in me to settle down, she would be on my radar.


AUTHOR BIO

Bestselling author, L. Loren holds a Business Management Degree from the
University of Mount Olive. As a former call center supervisor, her desire to write
lay dormant for years, until she found the courage to live her dream. She is
currently based in Birmingham, AL with her loving and supportive husband.
L. Loren created her own brand of erotic romance that she dubbed LoveRotica -
Love stories with an edge of sexy. Her catalog of sexy stories is self-published
and available on Amazon.
Follow L. Loren on Social Media
Author Social Media links:

Giveaway

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~~~~~
2020 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.