Reminder: Yesterday’s contest is still ongoing. A winner will be chosen tomorrow!
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I get that you think the title of Monday’s upcoming release is unpronounceable. I do. And it wasn’t that I couldn’t make up my mind between Smitten and Bitten, even though, in my story, Emmy Harris is both. I didn’t want to choose. I wanted both. Et voilà! Sm{B}itten! Next, you ask, why didn’t I use parentheses around the B? Simple, the squiggly enclosure is prettier! And there you were thinking there might be something deep or magical about why I entitled my book something so strange (you didn’t? I’m disappointed!). One thing’s for certain, you won’t forget it, right? Well, if you want to say my title out loud, you’re welcome to call it what I do: Smuh-bitten.
At any rate, the book comes out on Monday. Not long now, and I’d like to give you a peek inside. Have you pre-ordered your copy?
True love bites!Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!
Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not quite human…
Buy at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | More venues are coming Monday!
Excerpt:
Be warned. Emmy Harris doesn’t think like most romance heroines. You’ll get a glimpse of her funny little mind here…
At his urging, Emmy couldn’t hold back another second. She dug her fingers harder into his hair and pulled. “Come with me,” she said, her voice tight. And then she whimpered. The experience was too much. He was too much—Mr. Stamina. Too hard and lean and beautiful. His lovemaking was astounding and—something she never thought she’d admit—too strenuous. She panted like she’d run laps, something she’d never ever do.
He shook his head and continued the deep thrusts that pounded against the gate of her womb. Buried to the hilt, he ground his pubic hair against her clitoris until she was so sensitive to the scrape, she thought she might come out of her skin. And she was right effing there, could feel the tension wind tighter in her core.
But she wanted him with her. This one last time, she needed the whole enchilada. “Baby…bite me.”
He stopped. His arms grew rigid and his nostrils flared. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation.
“I want you, Dylan. All of you.”
“Dammit! Emmy, do you even know what you’re asking?”
“For you to trust me to be strong?” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t seen your other face?”
His entire body shuddered, and he closed his eyes. “Then watch,” he whispered.
Breathless with curiosity and a tinge of fear, she held still beneath him. His eyes opened—not the dark orbs she knew were green—but glowing circles that reflected the waning moonlight, like an animal’s. The better to see me.
His cheekbones lifted, popping and cracking as his face reassembled into the monster mask, his skin stretched tight around it. His lips curved above teeth that slid over his human set, long and razor sharp, the longest at the four corners of his smile. The better to eat me.
The most miraculous part of the transformation was the muscle that grew rigid and strained beneath his skin, stretching him outward, turning the arms that held her knees to stone. And his cock was one of those things hardening and enlarging, pushing deeper without a flex of his hips. The better to fuck me.
A low growl rattled in his throat, and for a moment, Emmy had doubts she was really ready for this. Something was wild and primal about that growl. But then his tongue, longer, rougher, swiped along her throat. Her skin grew numb. She relaxed. He’d considered her comfort—part of the man was still inside the monster. Angling her head to the side, she held her breath.
His teeth sank slowly into her neck, burning at first, then he drew, sucking her blood, and pure sensual heat spread from her neck, moving downward and tightening her breasts and belly.
His enlarged cock pushed inside her, pulled out, and pushed again. His thrusts were so powerful her buttocks left the bed with each stroke. Still, he kept a steady rhythm that soon had her wishing he’d move faster, harder, rougher. And she told him so.
He growled in response—the Big Bad Wolf buried between her legs, and she reveled in the power to make him lose control and be the beast for her.
That she could inspire the beast in any man was a revelation.