Tour: Soul-Mate by Anna Santos


Title: Soul-Mate

Author: Anna Santos

Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Erotica

Cover Design: Brenda Gonet

Release Date: October 25th, 2015


SOUL-MATE, a Paranormal Romance by the author Anna Santos, releases this October through BookTrope!



In a world where Vampires and Werewolves don’t get along. Hybrids are chased and killed. Two unlikely souls find out they are meant to be.

Annabel is a bad-ass hybrid hunter, seeking revenge from the vampire who killed her parents and put her brother in a coma. Arriving in a new town with an undercover identity to protect and the mission to find a pureblood vampire to save her brother’s life, the last thing Annabel needs is to fall in love with the sexy, persistent werewolf who thinks she’s a helpless human in need of a knight in shining armor.

Shane is a dominant werewolf who also happens to be the local sheriff. He has almost lost hope of finding his better half. So when his beautiful soul-mate shows up and rogue vampires try to kill her, he does what any smart wolf would do: he saves her and takes her home, hoping to convince her that they belong together.

When sparks fly between them, Annabel has to decide if she tells him who she really is or runs the other way to protect her secrets.



Anna Santos is an up-and-coming New Adult author with an impressive number of followers who builds worlds of undeniable beauty, with witty and enchanting characters.

Anna always keeps her readers on their toes with her adrenaline-fueled adventures, suspense-filled cliffhangers, and steamy love scenes.

When she isn’t writing, Anna is considering plot twists for her next novel or delving into the world of her favorite authors.


You can join her at:








Links for purchasing:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble



Soul-Mate Excerpt

Chapter One


She was a vision: black leather suit; long, straight dark hair; and a rosy-red button mouth. Her big blue eyes were simply dazzling! She had a doll-like face and sexy body, and she moved with the grace and prowess of a feline. As she walked toward the counter and took a seat on a stool, all eyes followed her, both female and male. She gently stroked her hair away from her face so her skin gave off a gentle glow, looking softer than silk.

I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her like a June bug to a porch light. Could she be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen? Is it possible? I’d lived for more than two mortal lives. Never in that time had I ever reacted so strongly to a woman. It was like she had a magnetic pull, an ability to make me forget about all around me. Everything but her turned into an annoying buzz, a blur; she had my undivided attention. It has been ages, literally, since I wanted to meet a woman as badly as I wanted to meet this one. I wanted to talk to her and be next to her.

I wasn’t the only one dazzled by her: other dangerous, lustful eyes were targeting her. Like them, I was fixated on her, enchanted by her beauty. The pull I felt served as a reason to approach her, so I walked to the counter with no control over my body and sat next to her, flashing my sexiest smile.

God! Her scent was addiction, if not intoxicating. She smelled like a bouquet of roses, orchids, poppies, Heaven, vanilla, and candy. What a feast to my senses! She was the personification of lust, temptation, and dreams come true. I couldn’t believe it; I had long since lost faith in finding her, but there she was, after all this time: my soul-mate.

“I’m not interested,” she replied to my smile before I’d even opened my mouth. “You’re not my type,” she added as an afterthought, completely catching me off guard.

What was that supposed to mean?

Stupidly, I asked, “And what is your type?” I’m not normally that pathetic with words, but I’m not often rejected, either. Come to think of it, I’ve never been rejected before. Awkward!

The downside of your soul-mate being a human—she doesn’t recognize you as hers.

She didn’t answer my stupid question, thankfully. She just took a good look at me as if I was a piece of meat, and then simply ignored me and called for a drink from the bartender. He had a smile on his face before looking over and giving me a mocking look, as if calling me a loser. Sam was probably gloating at the fact that I’d been rejected, but he didn’t know that I wasn’t going to give up on her that easily. After all, she was my other half.

She was dressed to kill but was more likely to be killed by the gang of predators that lurked in a dark corner of the bar. Their eyes were riveted on her. I could sense their noses turning to the air, smelling it, trying to catch her intoxicating scent.

She was too irresistible to be true! I was completely dazzled by her. I couldn’t believe that I was staring at her, finally, after all this time. It was like a dream, and if it truly was one, I dearly hoped that I never woke up.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked, trying to make conversation, wanting to stay next to her.

“Could you just leave?” she asked in a soft tone but not impolitely—far from it. She had a sexy, girly voice, and I swear I could detect a hint of concern. Like being far away from her was the best option for me.

The problem was that she was mine. At least, I would do anything to make her mine. And to leave her there to be a vampire’s snack was out of the question. Actually, it was out of the question before I smelled her; now it was a death sentence to anyone who dared to touch her.

“Are you new in town?” I asked. I was curious and wouldn’t be driven away anytime soon.

“Yes,” she answered, throwing back more of her drink. I noticed that the girl was looking at the mirrors on the wall and clearly didn’t want to talk. I followed her eyes with curiosity. What could possibly be more interesting than me?

She was watching the dark figures not far from us. I almost sighed with impatience. Humans had an inclination to get themselves into danger. They were drawn to evil creatures like moths to flames. She couldn’t possibly be serious. That dark “Emo” look attracted her? They weren’t even the best-looking specimens of their race. They were newborn, pale, and skinny. They had arrived an hour ago, and I had only seen them two or three times before. They weren’t from my town, but they knew who I was, and they hadn’t caused any trouble―yet. Even if they looked hungry, in a bar filled with werewolves and shape shifters, they wouldn’t get lucky. If they knew what was good for them, they would leave and stop staring at the girl, at my soul-mate.

Moments after, as if they had read my thoughts, the vampires got up and glided out of the bar. My eyes followed them, my hand ready on the gun resting at my hip so they would get the message. She was under my protection, and if they dared to make her an unwilling blood donor, they would feel my wrath. I was the law in this forsaken town, and they would do well to remember it.

But as the vamps left, she got up, paid for her drink, and walked toward the exit. For a moment, I have to confess that I was hooked on her luxurious curves, until I realized that she was leaving. I didn’t even know her name or her phone number. Also, those vampires were outside and would smell her arrival in the dark of the night.

I grabbed my coat and ran outside, only to encounter my enticing soul-mate zipping up a leather jacket and sitting on a killer-looking bike that would make true any biker’s dreams, such as my own.

For a few moments, I thought I was dreaming or even hallucinating because it was really farfetched that my dream girl would have such an impeccable taste for bikes, as well as would ride one. That was so damn hot!

She put a backpack on her back and was reaching for the helmet when they came out of the dark and passed her, joking and pushing each other as if drunk. I knew better. The temptation was too much for them to resist. Even the possibility of dealing with me wasn’t enough deterrent for the vamps to back off.

The girl must have sensed that something was amiss, because she put her helmet down and took her backpack off, looking from me to them as if intrigued. They were closer to her, and they were incredibly fast when they needed or wanted to be. I’m also fast at shooting, and I’m strong and deadly when I have to be. No blood-sucking monster would lay a hand on her precious head; especially not when she was meant to be mine!

The vampires seemed to reconsider when they saw my eyes burning with the promise of retribution and my hand falling to the revolver that would shoot special wooden and silver bullets. I was prepared, and they knew that. I had killed others who didn’t respect the laws of this town. I would kill again without hesitation, and they knew that as well. So they had to have known that it would be smarter to back off and leave, but I guess they were still feeling foolish, because two sped over to attack me and one jumped at her.

She screamed something, but before she could do much more, the vampires were already exploding in ashes while my revolver smoked from the three precise and quick bullets I’d shot. After checking that there weren’t any more vampires in sight to harm my soul-mate, I re-holstered my gun.

When I looked at her, she stood blinking in amazement at the falling ashes, surely confused by the disappearance of the three supposed men. Her eyes were wide, trying to comprehend what had happened. Humans naturally assume they’re hallucinating and just try to forget all things supernatural, as they are too impossible to be true. Vampires vanishing into wisps of ash happens only in movies.

I wanted to say something to reassure her, but before I could open my mouth, she was slumped to the ground. I rushed to her in time to stop her from hitting the dusty pavement. She fainted into my arms.

“Miss.” I felt stupid calling her that, but I didn’t know her name. I caught her against my chest, and her scent hit me. She smelled amazing! No wonder those bloodsuckers wanted a taste. She felt right in my arms; we were made for each other, and I didn’t know if it was the mate bond acting out, but everything about her seemed perfect. I found myself closing my eyes and prolonging the blissful feeling that assaulted me in waves of hot and cold.

No one came outside. They knew better than to come outside; except for Sam. He came to see if I was still alive and woke me up to reality.

“Problem solved?” he asked, not making a fuss about it. Nothing that hadn’t happened before.

“Yeah,” I grumbled in reply, more concentrated on the human than on him. “Take care of her bike, will you?” I shouted over my shoulder.

“Right,” he answered, giving me a thumbs up in reassurance.

I carried her to my car then sat her on the front seat and drove home—my home. It was a waste of time to take her to see a doctor. She would eventually wake up, and a cup of tea would be enough to calm her down. Besides, once she awoke up and properly thanked me for saving her life, I was hoping that I could convince her to stay and give me a chance. We were meant to be together.

I needed to know who she was and why she was travelling with just a backpack. She looked young and fragile. It could have been my protective instinct kicking in, but I wanted to take care of her. Not to mention that I wanted to know everything about her.

While I was driving, it was hard to concentrate on the road. The woman was lovely. Even though my heart had almost stopped beating with the possibility of losing her minutes after finding her, now that the danger was gone, her scent relaxed me, and her presence ignited a sparkle of hope in my heart for being happy.

Her mouth was enticing. Just thinking about a kiss from those lips had me trembling. The sexual attraction was overwhelming. I wondered how it would be to have her husky voice in my ear, begging me for more kisses and sighing into my mouth with desire and pleasure…

I was losing it, and I should probably have stopped having those fantasies, given the growing tightness in my crotch. It would have looked really bad if I’d had a raging hard-on when she woke up in my home.

I needed to control my urges, even if she was a gorgeous temptation all wrapped up in leather. My sex fantasies were out of the question for the time being. I was more interested in taking care of her and making sure she was okay. She was not just some hot woman to spend a good time with. She was going to be my whole world. And I was hell-bent on making her realize that she couldn’t live without me, either.

giveaway banner soul-mate


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour: Dying in Pleasure by Lady Ristretto

Dying In Pleasure Banner 851 x 315

dyingkindleDying in Pleasure
Lady Ristretto

Genre:  paranormal/historical erotica

Publisher: Lady Ristretto
Date of Publication: April 1, 2015
Number of pages:  385
Word Count: 102,000

Cover Artist:  Ebooks Covers Design

Book Description:

Lucia, the daughter of the richest family in Pompeii, disappears one night. The mystery goes unsolved and life moves on. The lives of Pompeii’s citizens intertwine: Ibis, a prostitute running the whorehouse owned by the Aedile, a city official, gets murdered by his wife Lucy. Lucy falls in love with Narcissus, the most treasured gladiator in Pompeii. The Aedile’s daughter, Julia, marries Rust, the man suspected to have murdered Lucia. Maro, Lucia’s slave, holds the families together and eventually discovers Lucia when she reappears in Pompeii twenty years later, and as a witch.

The events in Pompeii converged and lead to its ultimate, inevitable destruction. Only Lucia can help the city and save lives. In a ceremony requiring possession by a god, murder, and necromancy, Lucia discovers what is going to happen. But not everyone manages to get away.

Dying in Pleasure brings to life the long dead city of Pompeii, showing its citizens as vibrant, eccentric pleasure seekers. History, pain, violence and ritual blend in a pansexual orgy that is both exciting and extreme from beginning to end.

Available for Nook and Kindle

Dying In Pleasure Button 300 x 225


LUCIA REFERRED to her patron goddess as Father.  It was more respectful, a gesture insisted upon to mirror and mock Lucia’s upbringing: the Roman father is the family’s absolute authority.  His power is unquestioned.  The lives of his family are to do with as he wishes.  In essence, he is the god of the family.

Lucia howled in rage on the hills; it wasn’t a wholly unique incident, but it wasn’t uninspired by Rust and Maro either.  Lucia had grown accustomed to venting her rage in loud spectacles in nature.  Her Father was pleased and Lucia could hear Her approval.  She liked Lucia to explode: to remain pent up, repressed, and quiet not only kept the emotions in, it kept her power in.

Lucia wanted to wander the fields and find Father in the wilderness, but she was nervous to stray too far from the villa.  On the edge of the woods, now darkening in dusk, Lucia could smell Bacchus out there; He was running toward her at full speed, like an animal galloping toward its prey.  She could hear blood engorge His Penis, and the sound was a storm in her ears.  If she stepped into His wilderness, He would fall upon her.  Father would think the action, the willingness to enter the realm of another god, as disloyalty, a kind of cheating, and give Lucia up to His angry hunger.

Walking the opposite direction, Lucia started on the road back toward the city, to the necropolis she had visited during the night.  The trip had been fruitless—the dead shrinking in terror from her like beaten dogs.  She was used to fear, but nothing this intense or reckless.  The dead were insulting in their terror, shrieking silent obscenities at her.  Rather than taking it badly, and snuffing out what little power their trapped souls possessed, she walked away silently and curious.

Lucia returned to the entombed urns, and felt them quake from her approach.  Normally, having received such hostility and unwillingness from the dead to be helpful, Lucia would respond with threats and violence.  Perhaps seduction was more in order.

In the language of the dead, Lucia said, “Don’t be afraid.  I need your help.”

In their language (with Latin accents from the freshly deceased, who still retained memories of Latin), they replied in an overlapping, echoing gaggle of sounds: “Keep away.”

“I only want to speak with one of you.”

“Away,” they whimpered dusty, silent heaves.

“One of you approached me.  One of you has been haunting my dreams.  One of you brought me back to Pompeii.  I want to speak with her.  If you help me find her so I can speak to her, I will do you no harm.  I swear by my Father.”  Lucia, of course, didn’t use the term Father to the dead—she used one of her goddess’s real name, the name in the language of the dead.  It made the dead shake, the necropolis stones tremble.  Her seriousness startled them; she was trapped by her oath, and they knew her Father would make her keep it.

They had no choice really but to answer her, for by refusing would bring her wrath down upon them.  They echoed and reechoed, chanted one word which became for them a plead for peace: Ibis.

Repeating the name to herself, Lucia let Ibis bring her to her.  There was a small entombment on the east side where the dead poor lodged.  The tombs were less than tombs, less than places for remembering, inhabited by people who were hardly regarded in their lifetimes; but these were ghettos for ashes also thought too powerful to allow in the city, or cast aside in a rubbish heap.  Dead beggars, madmen, slaves, whores, and gladiators there trembled at Lucia’s  approach.  Her voice thundered Ibis and the souls swept aside as if by a blast of wind, leaving Ibis alone to face her.  Invisible, but a clear, solid form to Lucia herself, Ibis stood facing this woman she knew in life only as a legend.

Lucia glared through Ibis’s formlessness and forced the soul of the dead prostitute to assume a physical form.  Only so Lucia would have something to look at and speak to.  Even Lucia preferred to have a face when having a conversation: Lucia treasured the luxury of normalcy and insisted upon it whenever dealing with the dead—no matter what pain it caused.  Ibis winced in the cramped confinement being in her former shape.

“Tell me what you want.”

Ibis’s mouth moved, and Lucia knew it would require a few moments for Ibis to accustom herself to her form again.  She sighed impatiently: she had no patience for the dead, and their suffering, struggles, and pain angered and annoyed her.  At first, speaking with the dead had been a horror.  Repetition made it an annoyance, and sometimes Lucia wondered if her severe irritation was only self-protection.

Ibis was especially bothersome to Lucia.  In form and in formlessness, Ibis was stained as murdered souls are.

“Help.  Julius,” Ibis said with trembling lips.  She spoke not normally, but in a shrieking rage.  The stones quivered.

Lucia sighed.  “Julius who?”

“The Aedile.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Tell.  Him.  Go.  To.  Rome.”

“I have no time to be running errands for you,” Lucia said.

“Please.  Please.”

“I have been begged by more pathetic souls than you and if you annoy me more I will extinguish you.”

“Then why speak to me at all?” Ibis asked.

She advanced on Ibis but Ibis didn’t move.  Lucia found herself staring closely into the pained face struggling to hold itself together.  Lucia could see how Ibis’s pale cheeks swarmed in flesh colors like millions of bees.  There was even a small buzz of energy.  It was more disturbing that Ibis didn’t flinch.  Lucia wasn’t accustomed to seeing the dead this close.  Lucia arched her eyebrows.  It was rare to find a dead soul with the ability to think quickly.  “You brought me to Pompeii for a reason.  I thought it was for something more important than carrying messages.”

“I didn’t bring you,” Ibis said.  “You came on your own.  You wanted to come home.”

Lucia opened her mouth to argue, but couldn’t find anything to say.  She felt shame, as it was entirely possible it was true.

Ibis said, “Help Julius.  Something horrible will happen to him.”

“I don’t care about the Aedile.”

“Something horrible.  Something horrible.”

Lucia stepped back as Ibis began to cry.  Ibis’s tears were bloody.

Normally, this would not be enough to move Lucia.  She had heard more virulent entreaties and extinguished these souls who asked for less.  But as Ibis cried—an unusual occurrence for a soul—the other dead echoed her “Something horrible”.  Then it became a chant of “horrible horrible horrible”, not just in this necropolis, but all over Pompeii. As if all the dead were chanting to Lucia.

This had never happened before, and Lucia felt afraid.

IMG_3888About the Author:

Lady Ristretto spent the beginning of her career writing under her real name and as a playwright. She has a BA in English from UCLA and an MFA in playwriting from Southern Illinois University, Carbondale.  Her plays were produced in Illinois and Texas, and her most popular work, Wonderland in Alice: The Uncertainty Principle was produced in New York off off off Broadway.

Her first book, Dying in Pleasure, had been a full length play that was rejected as her thesis play: the professors on her committee felt it was too misogynistic and violent for undergraduates to stage. Always stubborn and obsessed, Lady Ristretto spent years rewriting the play into a novel and has recently published it as an ebook on Amazon and Nook. Lady has recently become obsessed with cricket and deeply wishes America would form a formidable team which is worthy to compete in the World Cup.

bewitching tours

Tour: Instruction Trilogy by L.M. Pruitt

The Instruction Trilogy Banner 851 x 315


Book One
L.M. Pruitt

Publisher: SP Press
Publication Date: August 18, 2015
Genre: Erotica

Book Description:

Taylor Allerton’s speakeasy is one of the hottest nightclubs in Manhattan. Young, rich, and beautiful, she can have any man she wants–and usually does.

Namir Adeem just became the youngest partner at one of the most prestigious accounting firms in Manhattan. His determination to bring honor to his family leaves no time for any relationship.

When Taylor discovers just how sheltered Namir is, she takes it upon herself to give him the education he deserves.

Some things can’t be taught in school….

Amazon  |  iTunes  |  Kobo  |  BN

Instruction Excerpt:

“I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve had to dissuade a woman in a bar.”

He barked out a laugh. “Ms. Allerton, I’ve spent more time in libraries and schoolrooms than in drinking establishments. I’ll confess, if you hadn’t intervened, I’m not sure how I would have handled your friend.”

“Look, I’ve already decided to hire you, so you really don’t need to continue plugging your education.”

“I assure you, that’s not my intention at all.” He coughed and scratched the side of his nose again. “I’m simply trying to inform you, as delicately as possible, that I am not used to this sort of… open culture.”

I stared at him, working to process his words. “I’m sorry, I’m not really following what you’re saying.”

“When I say I lack experience in certain areas, I mean I… lack experience.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “You do not achieve the success I have at my age without making some sacrifices along the way.”

“Oh.” As the full impact of his words sank in, my eyes widened involuntarily. “Oh. Oh, God. Now I’m even more sorry about Kennedy and how she acted and what she said and–.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Ms. Allerton. You have been beyond professional in every way.” He opened his eyes, tilting his chin down and studying me with a slight smile. “At least you have while in my presence.”

“Well, thank God we can’t get in trouble simply for having dirty thoughts.” I crossed my legs and laughed. “Although it’s probably only me having those thoughts.”

He sat silent for long minutes before clearing his throat. “You would be wrong, Ms. Allerton.”

I lifted my brows, tilting my head to the side. “Oh?”

“I hope this won’t impact our professional relationship but since you are being honest, so must I.” His gaze shifted to mine and I sucked in a breath. “I find you very attractive, Ms. Allerton.”

“In the spirit of continued honesty… my friend was right.” I picked up my glass, taking along sip of watered down tea. “I want to fuck you.”

“As flattering as I find your statement, I doubt it would be very good for you, all things considered.”

“Do you want me to teach you?” I hadn’t even known the thought was in my head until the words were echoing in the room but it was instantly an obsession. Slowly, I began sliding around the booth toward him. “I will—as much as you’re willing to learn.”

He dropped his gaze to the table, shifting restlessly. “You should check on your friend.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“It was a highly inappropriate question, Ms. Allerton.”

“Still not an answer.” I leaned closer, my mouth a half inch from his. “Do you want me to educate you or not?”

His lips parted on a sigh. “Yes. I do.”

“Wonderful.” I leaned back, pretending not to see the disappointment flash across his face. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

demonstration coverDemonstration
Instruction Trilogy
Book Two
L.M. Pruitt

Genre: Romantica/Erotica
Publisher: SP Press
Date of Publication: September 7, 2015
Word Count: approx. 40K

Book Description:

Namir Adeem has traded in early mornings, coffee and spreadsheets for late nights, bottle service and VIP lists. His nightclub is poised to become the next hotspot in Manhattan. Still, success means nothing without the one person he’s spent six months trying to replace.

Taylor Allerton made her mark on Manhattan nightlife with Whisper. Her next venture has the possibility to catapult her to the coveted pinnacle of the social scene. And yet nothing can fill the hollow spot in her heart left by that one week.
When they meet again, there’s no denying the attraction and emotion still sparking between them. But this time around, Namir has a few lesson of his own in mind–and Taylor is eager to learn.

When the student becomes the teacher, anything is possible.

Demonstration Excerpt:

This is insane.” Ferran straightened the plate a quarter of an inch, studied the table for a moment, and then moved the small square saucer back to its original position. “As your brother, I’m obligated to tell you when you’re being less than sane and this would be one of those times.”

“I think it’s romantic.” Ahlam paused in the middle of fluttering from one end of the room to the other to smile and pat my cheek. “You could give your brother a few lessons in that particular department.”

“I’ll have you know I practically ooze romance.” As if to prove his point, Ferran grabbed his wife, spinning her in a circle before lowering her in an exaggerated dip, finishing with a long kiss. Righting her, he said, “How’s that for romance?”

“Your enthusiasm is commendable but your technique could stand to be improved some.” She burst in to a fit of laughter when Ferran dropped his jaw in feigned shock. “However, since I’m a firm believer in practice making perfect, I’m willing to suffer while you improve yourself.”

“You’re so good to me, darling.” Ferran winked at her and grinned before turning to me, his face slipping in to a serious expression. “Seriously. I know you’re going to do whatever you want but I would be a poor excuse of a brother if I didn’t attempt to dissuade you.”

“We’ll consider this your attempt.” I looked pointedly at the clock above the bar and then the door. “Now please, don’t let me keep you from enjoying the rest of your evening.”

“Come along, husband.” Ahlam linked arms with Ferran and began dragging him toward the kitchen. “I think your brother would like a few minutes alone before his date arrives.”

I waited until their quiet conversation faded away before shifting my attention back to the matter at hand—seducing Taylor.

I studied the table with a critical eye, adjusting the votive candles and the spray of flowers. The details Ferran had focused on, while important, had more to do with his training as a restaurateur. I was more concerned with the intimacy of the seating arrangement, the way the candles would cast shadows on her face, the scent of the hothouse roses. I wasn’t looking to recreate our first meal together but to reimagine it.

I wanted her to let her guard down just enough to allow me overwhelm her.

The faint rapping on the glass drew me out of my reverie and I glanced toward the door. Taylor stood on the other side, completely enswathed in a dark fur coat. Her lips curved ever so slightly as she gave a tiny wave.

I smiled back. Excellent.

implementation coverImplementation
Instruction Trilogy
Book Three
LM Pruitt

Genre: Romantica/Erotica
Publisher: SP Press
Date of Publication: October 7
Word Count: approx. 40K

Book Description:

Taylor Allerton and Namir Adeem have conquered overbearing parents, untrustworthy friends, and now rule the Manhattan club scene like royalty. But their greatest challenge is still ahead.


Excerpt Implementation:

“Well, that went better than I thought it would.” I resisted the urge to hunch my shoulders and shiver, despite the fact I’d been standing in the New York cold for nearly fifteen minutes in a slip dress. “After the initial screaming ended, I mean.”

“I’m honestly surprised there wasn’t more.” Namir rubbed his hands over my shoulders and frowned. “You’re practically frozen. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Publicity before beauty, darling.” I laughed and leaned in to him, brushing my lips over his. “Besides, I’ll warm up after I have my single glass of whiskey.”

“Whiskey? And only one?” He cupped my cheeks, holding me in place when I would have stepped away. “I thought you would have been drinking champagne in celebration. As a matter of fact, I texted Deidre and had her speak with Geoff about ordering extra bottles.”

“You know me so well.” I laughed again, content to stand there with him for the rest of the night. Or I would have been if not for the fact I had a massive party to host. “I try to limit my alcohol consumption when I’m working. It was a hard and fast rule for a long time and then… well….”

“I know.” He stroked his thumbs over my cheekbones. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.” The kiss this time was longer, gentler, and almost made me consider going home and missing my own party. When he pulled away, I started to suggest just that only to have him lay a single finger on my lips. “I know what you’re thinking and while I’d love to do the same, we do, unfortunately, have obligations.”

“God, it sucks being adults, doesn’t it?” I sighed and stepped away, although I still kept my hand joined with his. For all my bravado, I was nervous. So nervous. Probably more nervous than I’d been in my entire life, including the past twenty-four hours.

Marrying Namir had been easy. Like breathing.

Facing family and friends, frenemies and enemies, and—God forbid—the press? That was going to be difficult.

The Instruction Trilogy Button 300 x 225

authorAbout the Author:

L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she’s killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.

bewitching tours

Cover Reveal: Turbulence by Whitney G


by Whitney G.
Publication Date: October 22, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Erotica


Fuck me recklessly
Kiss me harder.
Take me again and again…

He and I met under a cloud of clichés:
Boy meets girl. Boy charms girl. Boy fucks girl.
Our story was supposed to end right after the orgasms, right after we went our separate ways.

But then we saw each other again…
And neither of us could walk away.

Our rules were simple.
Our passion was scandalous.
Our hearts were supposed to be safe…

But when you find something so all-consuming—something so intoxicating and inescapable, you’ll risk everything you’ve ever had, even if you’re destined to crash and burn.

This is us.
This is our messed up love.
This is turbulence.


About Whitney G.

A self diagnosed candy addict, travel junkie, and hypochondriac, Whitney G. LOVES to write about characters that make you laugh, cry, and want to (in the case of Selena Ross) reach through your Kindle and slap them. She is the “imaginary bestselling” author of the Jilted Bride Series, Mid Life Love, Wasted Love, and Captain of My Soul. When she’s not locked inside her room, feverishly typing away on her laptop, she can be found here: She also loves getting emails from her readers, so if you want to tell her how much you loved (or hated) her stories, email her at

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour: Invaders from the Outer Rim by Eric Coyote and Walt Morton

Invaders from the Outer Rim Banner 851 x 315

coverInvaders from the Outer Rim
Eric Coyote and Walt Morton

Genre: Sci-Fi Erotica
Date of Publication: August 2, 2015
Number of pages: 52
Word Count: 12,800

Cover Artist: Walt Morton

Book Description:

Every small town has secrets but when Sheriff Olsen begins an investigation of weird events in Santa Maria, he discovers close encounters of the kinkiest kind.

Invaders from the Outer Rim is a mind-bending tale that explores the unfulfilled desires of the female psyche.

Literary critics agree this collaboration between award-winning authors Eric Coyote and Walt Morton is a groundbreaking achievement in erotic science fiction.

Available at Amazon

Invaders from the Outer Rim Button 300 x 225


“You want a fill-up on that coffee, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Danny Olsen was seated at a booth in Shaw’s Restaurant, enjoying an end-of-shift coffee. He looked up at the waitress and took note of the ample breasts barely contained in Darleen’s stained uniform. Olsen remembered a time thirty years ago when Darleen was crowned queen of the annual Elks Club parade. Back then she was the most eye-catching woman in town. She was still pretty, if you didn’t look too closely or the room was dark.

“Darleen, I am full to the eyeballs.”

“Let me hot it anyway.” She splashed steaming coffee into the sheriff’s cup. He stirred it in.

After she left, Olsen spiked the brew with a touch of whiskey from his pocket flask. If he started drinking a few minutes before he was off duty, too fucking bad. He had seniority in the Santa Maria substation, which served all of the unincorporated areas of the Santa Maria Valley, including Casmalia, Orcutt, and Garey. His turf was a sparsely populated agricultural hub stuck in the middle of California, but there was always plenty to do. Traffic accidents, family disputes, and petty crime were a part of daily life across America, and the valley was no different.

Olsen’s train of thought was rudely interrupted when two men sat at his booth uninvited. Olsen recognized both locals. Jack Grillo ran the Golden State realty office and Bob Lomax owned an auto parts store.

“What’s up, boys?” Olsen asked. He hoped the strong coffee odor covered the smell of whiskey on his breath.

“Sheriff, something’s wrong,” Lomax said. “Like what?”

“It’s our wives,” Grillo whispered.

Olsen studied the two men. They were his contemporaries, early fifties in age. Both were flabby with sagging beer guts and sparse white hair that looked greasy. While Olsen wasn’t as fat as either of them, he wasn’t the trim lad he’d once been. After he started going bald, Olsen shaved his head, gaining some comfort in the summer heat.

“If you’ve got trouble with your wives, that’s not my department. I’m a law officer, not a marriage counselor.”

“It ain’t like that, Sheriff,” Lomax said. “I tell ya, something weird is going on.”

Olsen watched Lomax’s trembling hands. The man seemed genuinely frightened, and the sheriff reconsidered their plight. What would put this man in a panic? Bob had been a reliable fixture in the town’s business community for years and led the Rotary Club fundraisers. It was damn odd to see him so upset.

“Bob, what do you mean? I’ll need specifics.”

Lomax’s face flushed and his voice caught. He shook his head and looked at his buddy next to him. Grillo leaned forward and spoke for both of them.

“Sheriff, you remember the funny lights in the sky the other night?”

Olsen definitely remembered. The phone in the sheriff’s substation rang off the hook the previous Sunday with over a hundred complaining calls from residents of the Santa Maria Valley.

“I do,” Olsen said.

“What about that?” Grillo said.

“Jack, we checked it out. People claimed fireworks, northern lights, an outdoor laser concert, and fifty other crazy ideas.”

“So what was it?” Lomax cut in.

Olsen looked him directly in the eyes. In his several decades of law enforcement, Olsen couldn’t recall a meeting so oddly awkward.

“It was military helicopters flying to Point Hueneme,” Olsen said.

“That’s horseshit, absolute horseshit!” Lomax exploded. Then he put his face in his hands.

Olsen eyed Grillo, who bobbled his head and frowned. Had they both gone mad? Grillo looked ready to cry, and Lomax was visibly shaking. They weren’t obviously drunk. What was going on?

“If you want my help, I need damn honesty. I’ve interviewed plenty in my time, and there’s something you two ain’t saying. What is it?”

The men shared a pained look, then Grillo nodded, giving in. “You tell it first,” Lomax said.

“It’s my wife,” Grillo told Sheriff Olsen. “We’ve been married thirty-two years. We’re good Lutherans. Nothing wild about us. Suddenly she shaves all the hair off her pussy and wants me to lick it. She makes me suckle on her coochie parts.”

Sheriff Olsen’s professionalism kept him from laughing, but he could see both men were agitated and dead serious.

“Jack, it’s not unheard of,” Sheriff Olsen said. “If you good ol’ boys consult the Internet you’ll find plenty of experts advising oral pleasures to spice things up, especially in a long marriage.”

“You don’t understand, Sheriff. She said ‘he’ told her to do it. The other man,” Grillo moaned.

Olsen blinked and took in the data. “What other man?”

“The sneaky bastard came in the night while Jack was out bowling,” Lomax interjected.

Olsen sat straighter, suddenly worried. He’d hate to discover a rapist preying on older married women but it would not be unheard of. Perverts lived in towns of all sizes.

“A burglar or a pervert?” Olsen asked.

Grillo shook his head, unable to say more as tears came to his eyes.

“Neither one. It was a spaceman!” Lomax yelled. “One came to my house, too.” Lomax was now sweating bullets and Grillo looked ready to have a stroke. “Spaceman?”  Olsen said. “That’s crazy talk. Listen to yourself, Bob.”

Grillo wiped away his tears before he spoke. “Sheriff, I’m not gonna bullshit you. I’ll say it plain. My wife’s pussy tastes like something alien was down there.”

A Bookaholic’s Fix Review:

I went through stages with this one, which is interesting in itself considering the length of the book.

At first, I laughed… a lot. The scenarios were beyond outrageous and quite comical. Aliens with multiple penises, insane fantasies… the whole thing was entertaining in a WTF kind of way. Even for sci-fi, it was a bit far fetched at times. As I continued reading, I began to notice other things about the book. My best description would be it’s a Freudian train wreck. You have the Id running amuck and penis envy just to name a couple of psychological themes I noticed, of course, the themes fits the genre description so it all works.

Even though it has a single plot, the story was more like a series of individual accounts mashed together. The sheriff’s part being the unifying structure of the tale and possibly the only anchor of sanity in the whole thing. There isn’t much in the way of character development but seriously, I didn’t have expectations on that front.

I will say, it was easy to tell the story was written by a couple of dudes. The narrative gives off a testosterone vibe. The guys obviously understand as much about female desire and fantasies as old Sigmund… not a whole hell of a lot. BUT despite the shallow nature of the depictions, I did find some merit in the story, especially the observations about repressed desires.

This one is classified as erotica but it’s more like cheesy porn. The sex scenes were brief and physically graphic but they really lacked build up. It was kinda like–oh here is the (insert lame job) guy, let’s boink. So the scenes really came off satirical at best.

I did find the story entertaining and I’d say it deserves a 4-star rating simply because despite the cheesy and absurd, it never seemed like the authors were trying to make the story something it wasn’t. The way the book was written came off as deliberate making me love every eye-rolling moment. Overall, I found it to be an amusing way to pass a couple of hours and I’d definitely read more by these guys in the future.

authorsAbout the Authors:

Eric Coyote and Walt Morton both attended the University of Southern California’s prestigious film school, which is (in retrospect) poor training for anyone writing erotic science fiction.

Eric is the author of the ultra noir detective novel The Long Drunk, named to Kirkus Reviews’ Best of 2012. Walt’s debut novel American Ghoul is a dark fantasy beloved by fans and food critics.

Both men live in Venice, California, but almost never go to the beach, and neither surfs.

bewitching tours