Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Does a week of sexual adventure include a future with two men?
Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one.
A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017 along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci-fi, fantasy, historical and suspense genres--50 books in total.
Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn't always sweet and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
I'm so totally stoked about the up and coming May 22nd release of the Down & Dirty Box Set. And I'm super honored to be one of the 22 authors included with my story, Destiny Happened.
How about a sneak peek from my hero, Kash?
Pops quickly flipped a line of sizzling sausages with his heavy-duty tongs as I carried an oversized cooler past him. “Those better be more brats for the grill. ’Cause these babies are sellin’ out fast.”
Sliding the container next to the boxes I’d placed under the canopy a few minutes earlier I said, “I wouldn’t leave you hanging, old man.”
He bobbed his head. “Know it.”
There was affection and perhaps a little bit of pride in my papaw’s tone.
“I’ve got another couple of coolers to bring over, so we should have enough brats to get us through the rest of the day.”
While having a food booth at Octoberfest was an annual money-raising activity allowing us to give a nice sum to a local charity—as well excellent advertisement for Caldwell Trucking & Repair—hauling stuff to and from our venue and fighting the traffic and crowds, wasn’t my favorite thing.
Glancing around I asked, “Where’s Joe?”
“He called a little while ago. He should be here any minute now.”
“You actually answered your cell phone? I’m impressed.”
“Don’t give me shit, boy.”
I chuckled. “Just happy to see you giving in. It’s about time you moved out of the stone age.”
“Yeah, well,” he grumbled. “I miss the good ol’ days when a person wasn’t reachable twenty-four-seven. When my ass isn’t planted in my office chair, then I’m out. No one gets the concept of being away and unavailable anymore. I don’t need to be interrupted all the time.”
I couldn’t help but grin at his usual rage against the machine. Everyone knew, if Pops was out of the trucking office, odds were high. Speaking to him probably wasn’t happening.
“How about Cray?” I asked.
“Haven’t heard from him.”
With a shoulder lift, I swiped sweat from my face onto my damp, gray T-shirt. “That asshole better not pull another no show. It’s his turn to do clean up.”
I’d much rather work fifteen hour days at the shop—which, let’s be honest, I did often so I could catch up on the paperwork end—than to deal with the daily vendor set up and nightly clean up.
“You know your brother, Kash.”
“Yeah, Pops, I do.”
Shit… I’d be doing my younger brother’s job later because Crayten would do what he always did—leave me high and dry.
We were only two days in with this four-day event, and I wasn’t happy. Adding to my piss poor mood was the damn heat. It might have been October, but it was still hot as hell and even hotter standing behind our commercial-sized stainless steel grill, where I would eventually be to give Pops a break. But come on. Four days of organized chaos and three-hundred-thousand festivalgoers could drive a man to drink. Although, on a positive note, I didn’t have far to go if I wanted to tie one on. The beer garden was only a few feet away.
“Hey.” Joe strolled up, man bun in place—hipstered out in his skinny pants, a blue shirt with red suspenders, and a big goofy smile on his bearded face. “Did you catch those bar wenches?”
We did our standard fistbump greeting.
“I’ve been too busy hauling shit to notice anyone,” I said.
“Joe, I’ll never understand why you want to do that crap to your poor ears.”
That was Pops for you. His grousing way of greeting one of our best mechanics while at the same time giving the guy crap about the shiny black plugs protruding through his lobes.
Joe tugged on his right ear good-naturedly. “All the ladies love my accouterments.”
My papaw snorted. “Accoutrements is it? Fancy.”
“Pops, stop busting Joe’s balls,” I said.
“All right, all right,” he rasped. “Glad you're here, J.”
“Thanks, Mr. Caldwell. I’m happy to help,” said Joe—humor in his tone. He glanced back at me. “Still have stuff in your truck?”
“I’ll give you a hand.”
I reached over my shoulder and yanked my damp shirt up, tugging it up and off my head. “Appreciated. Just give me a sec.”
Balling the cotton material, I swiped the driest section over my sweaty chest and stomach, glad I’d thought to toss a couple clean shop-logoed T-shirts into the passenger seat of my pickup that morning.
A section of the milling crowd parted and a few whistles snagged my attention. No. The whistles weren’t directed at me. They were for some dark-haired woman who was tossing her hands in the air and shaking her ass.
I’ll admit. She was attractive in a Jennifer Garner kind of way. But, the woman next to her, shaking her head and smiling—long, honey-blonde hair gleaming in the sun—was a fucking knockout. A knockout who looked my way. A knockout who stared at me, then glanced past me—eyes narrowing and her porcelain doll face going serious as she started in my direction.
Maybe it was the way she held herself. The biting of her luscious bottom lip. The gentle sway of those shapely hips. Or maybe it was the hip-hugging jeans and white, scooped-neck, longsleeved tee showing off all her curves that did it. But she had this combination good-girl-next-door with a hint of wild-in-the-sack vixen vibe going on.
Filthy images of what I could do to muss her up raced through my head at supersonic speed.
I was ready to give her my best smile. Flirt a little. Maybe get her phone number. And I was just about to do all of that when without hesitation she stepped up to me, popped up on her tiptoes, tossed her arms around my neck, pressed those soft, full tits into my hard chest and smashed her plush, pink lips against mine.
All right. I’d had my fair share of women hit on me, and do that shit hard, but a woman literally throwing herself against me and taking charge without so much as a hello? Well, that was a first. When it came to the fairer sex, I took the lead. Regardless, though. I wasn’t stopping her. In fact, screw introductions. I didn’t need any.
Groaning, my right hand grabbed the back of her neck—fingers tangling into the strands of her silky hair. My other hand, still holding my wet shirt went to her ass and pulled her even tighter into me.
She made a little mew of sound which turned into a throaty moan—her smaller frame melting into me as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, tasting an explosion of cool mint and womanly desire.
Yeah. I was full-on frenching someone I didn’t know—deep penetration style—while in front of Pops, Joe, and the entire swell of weekenders at Octoberfest.
Obviously, I didn’t care.
Both my brain and body agreed. It was time to get down and dirty. This became apparent when all the blood I possessed rushed to my dick and I ground myself into her pelvis. It didn’t matter where we were. It didn’t matter the woman in my arms was a stranger. Nothing in the world did but the feel, smell, and taste of her.
I needed more. More touching, tasting…just more.
Awareness seeped into my ‘need woman now’ mindset. She’d let go of me and pressed a palm to my bare shoulder, attempting to push me away.
Definitely get her number, became the thought overtaking me as she stopped our rigorous game of tonsil hockey and stepped back, breaking my hold.
Staring down into the most exquisite pair of navy blue eyes, I was struck mute. That was new as well. I’d never before been tongue-tied over a woman. Not only was I silent, but it seemed I lost my ability to move.
Part of me got I probably looked like a complete dumbfuck standing there in front of our booth with a raging hard-on, shirtless, and goddamned speechless, but I just couldn’t pull my gaze from her.
A rosy hue started at her chest, crawled up her neck, and swept across her cheeks as she placed her fingertips on her kiss-swollen lips, whispered “Sorry,” spun around, and took off like the devil was on her trail.
Her leaving so abruptly snapped me out of my stupor and all my faculties crashed back in place with a jolt to my system. Rebooting me.
“Hey!” I called out, reaching. “Wait! What’s your name?”
All I caught was thin air and a peek of her shoulder as she blended into the crowd.
Preorder Now on Select Sites for 99 cents!
You can't beat that deal with a stick.
Amazon Coming Soon!
Monday, February 19, 2018
Thanks so much for having me on your blog today with my new release Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO. Hannah and Logan are right up there in the top five favorite couples I’ve written to date, and I can only hope that the readers will love them as much as I do.
One early reviewer said, “They’re perfect for each other.”
I have to agree, but then I would, right. LOL
Check them out!
Hannah Watson has little time for romantic entanglements. After all, she hasn’t met a man yet who can beat her little battery-operated friend.
Until the new CEO arrives. Known for his ruthlessness in business, he’s also every woman’s wet dream—hers included. His temper alone should be a turn off, but her libido is not listening to reason.
Logan Bryce doesn’t tangle with his employees—ever—until curvy little Hannah makes all of him sit up and take notice. Who knew the starchy, always respectably dressed Ms. Watson had such a naughty side? Her proposal to auction off willing celebrities and suitable staff for a ‘date’ has appeal, especially with Hannah, herself, on the auction block.
The terms of the auction are clear—a twenty-four hour commitment—plenty of time to get her out of his system.
What can possibly go wrong?
Be Warned: mild BDSM, sex toys, spanking
Buy it from:
“Because you were too busy playing slap the donkey with your schlong.”
“Schlong?” Logan didn’t know whether to be amused or offended at having his cock referred to thus.
“Yes, what would you call that?”
She glanced down at said appendage and attempted to cross her arms. No doubt to hide her body’s far too obvious reaction to him. It made him even harder, eager to lose himself in her soft body and to finish with her what he’d started on his own in the shower. She accidentally grazed his cock with her arm in her attempt to hide her hard nipples from him. Like “come suck me” beacons they pushed against the satin of her gown, and made Logan’s mouth water with the need to taste them. How responsive would those little nubs be as he rolled them between his fingers, sucked them in his mouth, and bit down? Would she like that nip of pain, find it as much as a turn-on as he did, or would that be one step too far for sensible little Hannah? Not that she looked very sensible now with her dilated pupils, and the fine sheen of arousal coating her skin. Her heart beat an uneven staccato at the base of her throat, and a groan escaped her full lips when he ran his nose along that sensitive area and inhaled. Her sweet scent, made more potent by her arousal, called him to bite down, to mark her in the most primitive of ways, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t do that without her consent. To give into his darker desires was a two-edged sword, one he couldn’t allow himself to unleash, not now, perhaps not ever again. Certainly not with someone who worked for him, and with the hearing hanging over his head, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his success there. He owed Claudia that much.
Logan pushed those thoughts down with the same ruthlessness that had made him so successful in the corporate world. They had no business here, not with sweet little Hannah his for the taking and his being so revved up that innocent skin on skin graze of her arm on his cock was almost painful.
Predictably that part of his anatomy jerked. Giving into the demands of his body, he pulled back slightly, took her hand, and wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft.
Another one of those cock-hardening moans came from the woman he was holding a not so reluctant prisoner against his bathroom wall, and he tipped her chin up with his other hand to read her expression.
“I would call that my cock, and unless you really do want me to spank that delicious, round bottom of yours, I suggest you do something to help him out.”
Her digits tightened around his shaft, and Logan swallowed his grunt of pleasure.
“Like this, Sir?”
Her whispered question and the snarky intonation she put on that title made his dominant side roar. She couldn’t know what that did to him, and soon he was past the ability to think, because the feel of her little fist sliding up and down his hard dick, the little mewls she made as though this was a huge turn-on for her, too … fuck it, he was in real danger of shooting his load right there and then, and that just wouldn’t do. He wanted to come inside her tight little pussy the first time around, before he claimed every one of her other willing holes.
Logan fisted his hand in her hair and pulling her head back growled his instructions.
He pulled Hannah’s hand off his dick and slanted his lips over hers. Her tiny yelp in response to his rough handling granted him access, and he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, while he angled her head just so. When her hands slid up his shoulders and she pushed herself against him, he lost what little restraint he had and kissed her in earnest. He tongue-fucked her, in a very good imitation of what he was aching to do with his cock, while he ground his hips into her soft belly, and, grasping a generous handful of her luscious ass, pulled her tighter into him.
Hannah did not disappoint in her response. She kissed him back with the same feverish desire that coursed through his veins. The need to fill his lungs with oxygen forced him to break the kiss, and, panting, he rested his forehead on hers.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom. I need to be in you, woman. Tell me you want that, too.”
He pulled away just enough to read her expression, and the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, her pale skin already marked by his emerging stubble was the hugest fucking turn-on so far. Still, he had to be sure she was on board with this, so he forced himself to wait for her response. When none was forthcoming, other than the sounds of her rapid breathing, he tugged her hair again, a little harder this time. Tears sprang into her azure eyes, but she also clung tighter and bit her lip.
“Don’t do that. It makes me want to bite you all over, right after I turned your backside raw for not answering me straightaway.”
If that was possible her eyes grew even wider. She whispered something that he couldn’t quite catch over the roaring of his own heartbeat in his ears.
“What was that? Speak up, little dove, or I shall take your silence as consent. After all, you did come and see me, and I warned you what would happen if you did.”
He pulled her plump bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. Hannah gasped and jerked, and he pulled back and licked that tiny drop of blood away. Her life’s essence exploded on his taste buds, made him hungry for more.
“Tell me you’re mine for tonight.”
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
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