Born and bred in the UK, my whole life was turned on its head when,
at the tender age of eighteen, I met and fell instantly in love with my
darling husband. I knew the minute I met him I was going to marry him
and, fortunately, he came to the same conclusion less than six months
later.
My husband has shown me the world, starting by bringing me to Australia. The country we now call home, and where we have raised our two boys. It didn’t take me long to turn native, becoming a citizen and dropping the British accent. However, our wanderlust didn’t stop there. We have moved from state to state, always ready for a new adventure. We have also visited many destinations around the world.
My stories reflect my love for travel and exotic locations, along with my quirky British sense of humor. Well, you can’t give up all of your heritage now can you?
Lillian has brought along her book, Hot Male
One man. One sensual
dance. One night only to prove his love.
Michael wants Maggie. Maggie has Sam. Two’s company, three’s
a crowd.
Years ago, Maggie tried to seduce Michael Monaghan, only to
have her efforts rebuffed. Now she’s older, wiser, happily in love with Sam
Stephens, and determined to keep her distance from Michael.
Michael Monaghan, hot male stripper, has all manner of women
falling at his feet, except Maggie. All
he can do is watch from afar as Sam Stephens wins the heart of the one woman he
really wants.
Sam Stephens is just tired of Michael watching Maggie’s
every move.
Now there’s trouble with a capital T! Maggie’s Great-Aunt
Maud has run off to Ireland
with Michael’s Uncle Declan. Maggie needs to get to Aunt Maud and talk some
sense into her before Declan’s gun-totting wife catches up with them. With
Michael and Maggie off to Ireland
together, Sam isn’t about to be left behind.
Tracking down the runaway lovers is complicated by the
coldest winter in Dublin
in years. With Michael, Maggie and Sam stuck in a house with only one bedroom,
simmering sexual tension starts to boil over.
Michael wants Maggie. Maggie isn’t sure what she wants. Sam
just wants to punch Michael in the nose.
Two’s company; three could be something else altogether.
Excerpt from 'Hot Male'
Shannon scowled at the glasses with the
stupid colored umbrellas as Pete placed them on her tray. Thursday was her
night off. They never opened on Thursdays. She had plans to visit a club in one
of London’s less seedy areas, and she was an exotic dancer not a fucking waitress.
Pete put the last drink down. “Table
eight.”
“It won’t work.”
He leaned on the bar and leered at her
boobs before running a finger along the edge of her skimpy bikini top, teasing
the edge of a barely covered nipple. “We’ll see.”
She shifted out of reach. Pete disgusted
her, and the more she resisted the more he seemed to want her. Not that it
stopped him trying to whore her out to customers. She didn’t do sex for money,
and she didn’t do sex with Pete, period. Fortunately, she pulled a big enough
crowd that he wouldn’t dare get rid of her for refusing his gross seduction
techniques. “Women won’t pay to see men take off their clothes.”
Pete glanced over her shoulder. “You
want to tell them that?”
“You let them in for fucking free.”
“They’re paying for drinks, aren’t they?
Or they would be if you’d fucking deliver them. Chop, chop. The show’s about to
start.”
“I bet you’ve got some ugly old bloke
with shriveled bollocks who won’t even flop his sad dick out.”
Pete laughed. “You’ll see. Now move it.”
Shannon delivered the drinks with a
forced smile on her face, and then scooted to the back of the room to join Lisa
who was already slacking off. The brunette passed Shannon a cigarette and lit
it for her before blowing smoke rings. Shannon inhaled deeply and sighed as the
nicotine hit her bloodstream. “Have you seen the hired naked dick?”
Lisa shook her head. “Nope, Pete’s had
him under wraps. Rumor I heard was that he’s foreign and he’s never taken his
clothes off in front of an audience before.”
Shannon giggled. “Oh God, this could be
a right laugh if he gets stage fright. His dick’ll shrivel up. We’ll need a
magnifying glass to find it.”
Pete came to stand behind them, and
Shannonedged away as his fingers brushed her arse. The lights dimmed and the
room was plunged into darkness. A hush fell over the crowd and then a deep
guitar wail filled the air. A single spotlight hit the stage. Shannon’s
stripper pole had been transformed into a lamppost. As the strains of Gary
Moore’s Parisienne Walkways mesmerized the crowd a barefoot male stepped into
the light, resplendent in top hat and tails, with a cane and gloves completing
his ensemble. He lifted his head to reveal shoulder-length dark hair, chiseled
features and full lips. He gave off an air of sexy disinterest at being the
center of attention. His dark eyes scanned the crowd as he tossed the cane to
someone offstage and then grabbed the lamppost with one hand and spun around in
a twirl so low his hair almost brushed the timber floor.
Women yelled and whistled as he danced
in front of the pole and began to remove his clothes. His hips moved in time
with the music and the lamppost all but became his lover as his gloves, jacket,
shirt and pants were tossed aside. He slid his hands over his body. Shannon’s
skin warmed and her nipples pebbled as she imagined him touching her like that.
Standing in only a top hat and G-string,
he moved to the music with a grace that made Shannon catch her breath. He was
six-feet tall, studly and bad boy fucking awesome. When the guitar wailed on a
single note the stripper stopped, dropped his head, and held his hat in front
of his crotch. The air rippled with tension and Shannon licked her lips as she
wondered if he would really go the full monty. As the note ended he tugged his
G-string off, and Shannon held her breath. The song and the room fell
completely silent for a heartbeat, and when the guitar riff echoed around the
room he flipped the hat into his right hand and rolled it up his arm to land
perfectly on his head. He spread his arms wide and tipped his head back to give
all the ladies an eyeful of his junk. Shannon wasn’t the only one to wolf
whistle.
Lisa coughed on her drink. “Fuck. He’s
hung like a fucking horse.” She fumbled with her cigarette packet, trying to
pull out another smoke, and Shannon could hardly blame her.
The song continued and he dropped his
hands and lifted his head. From the low moans in the room, Shannon was sure she
wasn’t the only one who felt thoroughly shagged by the stranger on stage. His
dark eyes locked with Shannon’s. He smiled, and she swallowed as a shiver
rippled up her spine and her panties dampened. “He’s fucking magnificent. Who
is he?”
Pete’s breath warmed the back of her
neck. “His name’s Michael Monaghan.”
Find Lillian online:
Website: www.lilliangrant.com
Liquid Silver Books: http://www.lsbooks.com/lillian-grant-c161.php
Want to win an e-book copy of Hot Male? Just leave a comment on the blog and enter via raffle copter, please remember to leave your email address with the comment, (mail address will not be published). Please also state what kind of e-reader you use so that Lillian can gift you the right kind of file.
Love the cover!! That purple shirt really sets it off... yeah... the shirt... ;)
ReplyDeleteFrom Vera Mallard,
ReplyDeletewow, what a hunk, sounds like a great read, diffeently one to buy.
Hi Lillian, thank you for being my guest, I almost entered to win the book myself. Charli in the first comment is right that purple shirt sure shows off his lovely bod :-)
ReplyDeleteThe cover is a great way to draw the reader in and want to know more about what the story is about. I can't wait to get a copy and find out if Michael can steal Maggie away from Sam.
ReplyDeleteLynn
Thanks for letting me guest Elodie :) The cover is lovely I was really excited when I first saw it :)
ReplyDeleteLillian