London St James visits the blog today with new release Rise of the Lost Prince, #paranormalromance #eroticromance

Title: Rise of the Lost Prince

Series: Lost Boys

Written by: London Saint James

Published by: Evernight Publishing

Release: February 6, 2015

Word Count: 32K

Genre: M/F Erotic Romance, Paranormal, Fairytale, Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Gothic

Warning: Voyeurism, Violence

They fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world... 

Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland. 

Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys. 

With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Rise-Lost-Prince-Boys-Book-ebook/dp/B00TA3UXKK

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-riseofthelostprince-1740485-340.html

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/rise-of-the-lost-prince-by-london-saint-james 

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/London-Saint-James/e/B005I7KJWY/

ARe Author Page: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=London+Saint+James

Barnes & Noble Author Page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/london-saint-james

LSJ Romance: http://www.londonsaintjames.com/evernight-publishing.html

Read an Excerpt:

“Where are we going?” Wyndi asked.

“My room.” Five rapid heartbeats later, they were inside his bedroom with Petúr kicking the door closed behind them. “I need to know something,” he said in his honey tones.

Wyndi glanced up at him from under her lashes, and shivered. He was staring at her with eyes glinting gold. The braid he wore in his hair dangled down the right side of his cheek, tickling her.

“What do you want to know?”

“This.”

Petúr bent his head, slanted his mouth over hers, tongue tasting the line of her lips until she parted them on an intake of breath. When their flesh met, she closed her eyes. Fireworks exploded inside her head, the luminous sparks floating, then falling, falling, and transitioning into a force crashing down over her—a title wave of longing. She moaned, tasting the summer sky, morning dew, the sweetness of rainbows, sultry nights, and rain storms.

Mind whirling, her body shifting, she was lying on her back, fingers tangled into the nape of Petúr’s satiny hair, the other hand pressed against the steely strength of his shirt-covered chest. Every part of her became aware of him on some sort of molecular level. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what she experienced when he tucked himself between her thighs and groaned. Heat slammed into her core. Her stomach quivered. Her panties dampened. An inferno. Yes, surely it must be an inferno which lapped at her skin while their tongues tangled into infinity.

****

 Petúr was lost in an ocean of sensation, wave after wave, pulling him under. The connection to this woman beneath him was undeniable. Everything about Wyndi filled him up until there was nothing but her. Her taste. Her touch. Her scent. His chest expanded.

Damn, her scent. She tasted better than the cotton candy fragrance that wafted from her skin. Skin. Oh, yes, skin. That’s what he needed, to feel her soft skin against his.

“Wyndi.” He breathed, saddened to break the kiss, reaching over his shoulder, yanking the material of his shirt, lifting up with the other hand, and pulling the garment from over his head. “I must feel your flesh against mine.”

Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Was she nervous? Well, he’d be the balm to soothe those nerves. He focused on her mouth. Those delicious lips were kiss swollen and moist, making his cock strain even more against the constraint of his pants.

“Okay,” she said in a small, breathy voice, the lids covering her blue eyes at half-mast.

He reached for the hem of the too big nightshirt covering the body he had to see, lifting until he revealed her little white panties and lacy bra covered breasts. Blood raced through his veins. He wanted to do everything with her. To her. Touch all over. Taste every inch of her. Put his fingers and cock into the tight, warm sheath he knew was awaiting him.

Take her. Hell yeah. Those two words became a chant within his mind. He wanted to take his woman in every position he could imagine and then some. His woman? Yes. Yes she was his, or would be. Slow your roll. You don’t want to scare her. He had to maintain. He couldn’t go at her like some out of control beast.

Leaning down, he kissed between the creamy mounds of her cleavage, skimmed his cheek across the apex of her right breast, watching goose bumps scatter across her flesh in a wanton invitation. Unable to stop himself from licking her, he lapped at her in one, long, lingering stroke, from the top edge of the bra, up her collarbone, only stopping because the material he’d lifted hindered his progress being bunched around her neck.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “You taste so good.”  

There's a 'Boss Overboard' today as guest author Claire Gillian drops by with her new #Evernight release and a #giveaway

An all expenses paid, trans-Atlantic cruise has romance written all over it...unless you’re the poor sap who has to inspect the toilets and time the cafeteria lines. As if secret-shopping her company's failing cruise ship isn't bad enough, Lydia Johnson is forced to bring along a "top talent" new hire as her assistant. With a heart barely healed from her ex-fiancé’s deceit, she's in no mood to train a man who might cheat her out of an overdue promotion.

Paul Thomas may be new to J.P. Theriot Enterprises, but he certainly knows his way around cruise ships. The Cajun charmer also isn't shy about pursuing his desires, including his wary, but oh-so-sexy-when-she lets-her-hair-down manager. He's shared more about himself with Lydia than any other woman...except who he really is--J.P. Theriot.

Read an excerpt:

Twilight had begun to assert itself, tamping down the sun's rays and casting long shadows. They walked the length of the first pier and paused at the rail's edge to look out to sea. A light breeze skimmed the water and tousled Lydia's hair. She paid it no heed but let it have its way with the strands. Following the wind's example, he stepped closer to her, their arms lightly brushing as they stood side by side.

"Every port has its own special siren's call," she said, brushing the hair away from her mouth.

"Hard to resist," he said gazing at her.

She angled her body toward him. "Except sirens usually lure the susceptible to their doom."

He stepped closer. "A nasty rumor begun by those with no heart or imagination."

"I'm not so sure I agree," she whispered.

"Try." He leaned down and kissed her lips softly. Pulling back barely enough to end any contact but still close enough for their breaths to mingle, he offered her an escape. When she didn't take it, he moved in again, encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

The second kiss obliterated the first. For the first time, he felt her surrender, reluctant as it was, and reveled in it, taunted her with his triumph at proving she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Deepening it further, her soft moans filled his ears, her breasts pressed against his chest. His body responded to hers. Hands stole lower to grasp her hips and press his erection into her. She had to know how she affected him, there could be no doubt of the strength of his desire, the urgency of his need to touch, taste and bury himself in her.

For a long while, she moved with him, her hips grinding into his with a writhing need as their lips and tongues dueled in a sensuous dance. It wasn't enough. He needed more of her. Lips traveled to her jaw and then to her neck, to the spot right below her ear. Lydia caught her breath on a moan when he tasted the smooth skin there. An answering groan, nearly a growl, came out of him. He hadn't consciously made it, and yet he would claim it. All his instincts rallied and urged him to claim the woman in his arms, to drag her off somewhere private, to pin her beneath him and take her to the heights of pleasure. Forces stronger than the debating voices in his head whispering, "she'll hate you for seducing her" and "yes, yes, she wants you; she wants this; she just needs you to relieve her of a few barriers."

He slipped a hand between them to cradle the warmth of her breast in his hand. Her shirt and the bra beneath were both thin and minimal barriers, but barriers they still were. His other hand dropped to the swell of her ass, full and curvy and a sensuous delight to grip. The woman in his arms was sex incarnate. She was his siren and he gladly went down with his ship, drowning in her seductive depths.
Buy the book : Evernight Publishing  |  Amazon  |  All Romance eBooks  |  Bookstrand  |  Smashwords

 Boss Overboard by Claire Gillian

Claire Gillian is the pen name for a number-crunching executive by day and a darkly romantic curmudgeon by night. She also writes fifty shades naughtier stuff under the pen name of Lila Shaw (but please don’t tell her mother) and young adult fiction as Iris St. Clair.  No matter which name she uses, Claire is happiest penning romance drenched in humor with a dash of intrigue and loads of spice. Claire lives in the boggy Pacific NW with her husband and two teen-aged sons.

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