#BookSpotlight Harlot at the Homestead by @MissWishlade #Sexy #Western

Title: Harlot at the Homestead
Genre: Historical Western
Series: The Duggans of Montana, Book #1
Publisher: Totally Bound
Word Count: Short Novel – 33,707 words

Series Blurb:

The Duggans of Montana work hard and play harder.
Kenan Duggan looks out for his twin sister Rosie,
and Matthew and Emmett, their two younger brothers. The Wild West is a tough
place to live and each one strives to carve out their life on the land whilst
battling the prejudices, contradictions and restrictions of an ever changing
society.
They say that blood is thicker than water…but can
these siblings find love and still hold on to family ties?

Harlot at the Homestead Blurb:

Sometimes retribution finds its own way but
sometimes it needs a helping hand.
When Catherine Montgomery shows up at Kenan Duggan’s
homestead, she expects him to be surprised. She’s been gone two years and she’s
devastated to hear that her former fiancé was forced to give her up for dead.
Catherine never stopped thinking about Kenan and
hoped that they’d be reunited one day. She has suffered at the hands of another
but nothing tortured her as much as being apart from the man she loves. She
doubts, however, that Kenan will be able to forgive her when she reveals her
secrets.
As Kenan battles his desire for revenge, their
mutual desire reawakens like a creek bed in the rain, and soon they are swept
up in rediscovering their all-consuming passion.
Retribution often finds its own way in the Wild West
and the men to blame for Catherine’s disappearance may well find themselves
paying for their crimes in unexpected ways.
That’s if Kenan doesn’t get to them first!
EXCERPT
Kenan stopped at a point where the bank grew flatter
and the grass gave way to silt and sand. The water was shallow and crystal
clear over the stones and Catherine suddenly realised how hot and uncomfortable
she felt. High summer in Montana was usually hot and uncomfortable but this
year it seemed hotter than hell. Beads of perspiration trickled down between
her bosoms and the backs of her knees were clammy beneath her stockings.
“Let’s go in. It looks wonderful!”
Kenan smiled at her. “You always loved to swim,
Catherine.”
They removed their shoes and outer garments then
stood awkwardly.
“What now?” he asked.
“Just like always!” She chuckled.
His fingers trembled as he unhooked the front of her
corset. He let it drop to the ground on top of her dress, then moved closer to
her and encircled her wrist with his hands.
Her stomach flipped at the passion she saw in his gaze. He wanted her
and loved her still but she had not yet revealed all to him. When she did, she
feared that he would cast her aside like a broken saddle or a worn out boot.
“Hey!” He tipped up her chin with a fingertip. “What
is it?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, just memories.”
“Good ones I hope.” He sighed as he bent his head to
kiss her.
At first the kiss was soft and she relaxed into the
warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath. But as he pushed his hot
tongue between her lips, she moaned and slid her hands through his hair. She
filled her palms and her fingers with it then pulled his head towards her. 
As they kissed, he loosened the waistband of her
bloomers and she felt them slide down to the floor. The warm afternoon air
caressed the naked skin of her legs and fluttered the edge of her chemise.
Kenan held her body against the length of his and she felt his erection rock
hard against her belly.
She giggled.
“What is it?” he asked breathlessly.
“Perhaps we’d better cool off?” 
He looked down at the large bulge at his groin.
“Maybe.”
He shrugged out of his union suit sleeves then slid
it down over his legs. Catherine swallowed hard as she stared at his body. The
hard cock stood to attention, pointing outwards from the dark curls of his
pubic hair and pulling her eyes towards the balls beneath. He was a perfect
male and she yearned to become one with him, to take him deep inside her and
ride him until they both reached the point of no return.
“Now you!” His voice was husky but his tone was
firm.
She undid the button at the front of her chemise
then lifted it over her head. It was sheer as gossamer and featherlight. When
she met his eyes again, the intensity of his gaze startled her. He looked so
fierce, like he was about to explode with need and desire. He took her hand and
led her towards the water’s edge. The cool river lapped at her toes and her nipples
hardened, making her full breasts tingle.
“It’s freezing!”
“You’ll get used to it!” He eyed her naked form. He
waded into the water until it reached his thighs then turned to face her.
Catherine watched as goosebumps rose on his arms and the neat sack of skin that
held the essence of his masculinity pulled itself up towards his body.  But his erection still stood firm and ready,
the tip shimmering with a diamond like bead of moisture.
In a flurry of excitement, she pulled the pins from
her hair and let its vermillion waves cascade down her back. The breeze lifted
it and swirled it around her face, teasing her by limiting her view of Kenan.
She flicked her head to push it aside and fixed her eyes upon the man she
loved. Unable to resist any longer, she ran to him, splashing the icy water
over them both as she did so. The river’s chilly grip travelled quickly up her
legs and the tiny hairs on her neck and her arms stood on end.
Kenan grabbed her and pulled her with him into the
flow and Catherine gasped as the cold water enveloped her, touching her inside
and out. The sensation of the chilly water delving between the hot sensitive
folds of her most private place was delicious and it heightened her desire to
feel her lover’s cock there too.
“It’s freezing, Kenan!” She giggled.
He laughed then flicked water into her face. She
shook her head, her thick hair heavy with the river. He reached out and
tenderly spread her hair out so that it floated around her like a gathering of
eels come to inspect her nudity.
“Come here!” Kenan embraced her.
Their cold, wet skin and his solid length prodding
into her stomach fired her yearning to have him. She wanted to possess this man
once more, before he knew the full truth. The fear that he might abandon her
when she confessed all darkened her mind for an instant, like a cloud passing
over the sun. But she shrugged it away, refusing to allow it to spoil this
precious moment. Kenan pushed her towards the bank where he laid her on her
back in the shallows. He eyed every inch of her body. The stones and sand were
hard and cold beneath her skin but the fire in his gaze warmed her like the hot
summer sun.
He stroked his hands over her stomach, across the
curves of her hips then back towards the apex of her thighs. She moaned as he
parted her legs and ran the fingers of his right hand between her swollen lips
then over her aching bud. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a
touch so experienced and knowledgeable that Catherine felt all sense and reason
slipping away. Lost in passion, she lifted her hips towards him, eager for him
to fill her up as she knew only he could.
Whilst he massaged her, he used his free hand to
drip chilly droplets of water over her burning cunny. She flung out her arms
and grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails wantonly into his flesh and
pulling him down onto her, unable to wait another second. His body moulded to
hers as if it were the other half of her and she flung her head back as he
drove his erection into her soft flesh.
As excitement consumed him, he rocked into her,
harder and faster and she spread her legs farther to take him deeper. The water
splashed around them as they moved in perfect union and the current flowed over
them, caressing their skin and creeping into forbidden places as if to join in
their lovemaking.  Catherine bit into
Kenan’s shoulder when the tensing and twitching of her pussy signalled the
onset of her climax and her sensitive bud throbbed then burst into countless little
explosions like lightning bolts piercing the night sky.
The aftershocks flooded throughout her entire body
and her hot juices flowed from her loins. Her excitement spurred Kenan on and
he thrust harder and faster before freezing as he reached his own shuddering
release.
He rested his weight on his elbows and looked into
her eyes. “You are amazing,” he whispered as he gently pushed the wet hair from
her forehead. “No one should ever hurt you. Ever.”
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#BookSpotlight A Measured Risk by @NBlackthorne #Sexy #Regency #Giveaway

Hello Everyone, Natasha Blackthorne is here with book blitz for A Measured
Risk, Regency Risks Book One.

She is also giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card. To enter, please
fill out the Rafflecopter at the end of this post.

 

 A MEASURED RISK
By Natasha Blackthorne
Book one in the Regency Risks Series
He is her most dangerous temptation, the only man she
has ever trusted and now he is demanding her submission. Dare she take the
risk?
Emotionally scarred in the horrific accident that took
her husband’s life, Lady Cranfield is imprisoned by her lingering terror of
horses and carriages. She longs to be closer to the fascinating Earl of Ruel,
as she senses intuitively that he might be able to teach her how to overcome
the terrors that hold her in bondage.
And now she’s willing to risk almost anything—her
reputation, even her virtue—to find out.
But what Lord Ruel proposes startles her.
When the shy, studious and socially awkward young
widow approaches him, Lord Ruel instantly senses she will be the sweetest, most
submissive experience of his life—but first he must gain her complete trust.
Lord Ruel makes Lady Cranfield a non-negotiable offer: His help in return for
her submission and obedience.
But Lady Cranfield grew up neglected by her ducal
parents, raised by servants and then later ignored by her handsome, charming
husband. She’s learnt to protect her heart at all costs and she trusts no one
but herself.

How can the jaded Earl of Ruel break through Lady Cranfield’s self-defences and
show her how to love when he himself has spent his life avoiding that tender trap?

Erotica Romance ~ Light BDSM ~ Rubenesque / BBW ~ Regency Historical ~ Shy Heroine ~ Novel Length 86,000 Words
Contains graphic erotic descriptions and frank sexual language. As a work of
historical romance fiction, A Measured Risk
is not intended to be an accurate portrayal of
modern BDSM lifestyles.

Excerpt from A Measured Risk

©Copyright Natasha Blackthorne 2012, 2013

For Adults 18+ Only

She backed all the way into the bookcase.

Why did you run away?” His deep voice settled in her
belly, rich and warm, like crème brûlée on a cold winter’s night.

Because I wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound
sophisticated and seductive, but her voice choked off on the last word.

Ruel placed his hand on the shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door.
His tall, solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the
sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something masculine and
undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched his hard mouth.

He appeared different. Softer. More approachable.

At the change, her insides seemed to flip over.

Well, sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He touched one of her fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction with endless talk of hunting and fencing.”

As he slowly wrapped the curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery
sparks tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered and her nipples
beaded, pressing against her stays. By some instinct she hadn’t even known she
possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for his assessment.

His eyes shone so vividly blue against his bronzed face that they resembled
cornflowers. She swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This
more personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his usually
fierce exterior.

Well, no matter. There was nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as
need be to get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet
secure life in Ireland and thrust into Society at age sixteen, she’d spent her
time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She was an expert at
emotional evasion.

It should be easy to regain her control.

But now, as rays of the late-afternoon sun played over his pale hair, turning it
the colour of winter wheat, all her carefully rehearsed words flew from her
mind.

Say something—anything—else he will think you’re a bird-wit.

An intimate smile, one that invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.

In a situation like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s
perfectly normal for a lady to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice,
barely audible above the piano and boisterous singing from down the corridor,
accentuated their isolation. His gaze became so piercing that she had to lower
her eyes.

He brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “She will invariably ask herself if he
will try to kiss her.”

She jerked her eyes back to his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—not yet, surely…
Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step back, but
found her arse flush against the bookshelf.

He leaned closer; so close that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And
just in case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most assuredly
yes.”

She should demand that he put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She
really should. But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering
what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her that his breath blew
on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be kissing him.

Kissing
him.

Dear God. Her breaths began to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with
a suppressed moan.

His eyes burnt as brightly as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her,
if he dared… Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could
express itself no other way.

Excitement rushed through her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.

But no, he wouldn’t. Not yet.

He kept leaning closer. He didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all
the harder upon her.

Her heart pounding, unable to move away, she braced herself for his assault.

His lips brushed hers, barely. A gossamer caress.

He lifted his head.

It was done.

Ended.

And it hadn’t even begun.

He held her chin, appearing so cool, so unaffected. His kiss had seemed to sear
her. An urge to put her fingers to her lips arose in her. She resisted it, for
it would give away too much of how she was affected.

Never show your feelings.

He traced his thumb along her lower lip, slowly, deliberately, as he studied her
with eyes that now glittered with something powerful and predatory. Heat pooled
in her pelvis, low and spreading even lower.

She went weak all over, as if she’d lain in a sunny window seat for too long. Her
knees almost buckled. She forced them to lock. To be strong.

It should not have affected her so profoundly. It had been just a peck—not a true
kiss at all. William had poured out all of his skill upon her and hadn’t
garnered even a tenth of the reaction in her that this man’s peck had.

Ruel traced her jaw line with his fingertips. Unthinkingly, she leaned in to his
touch.

Of course, once he has kissed her, then it’s his turn
to wonder…” His voice sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. “How will she
respond? Will she withdraw, or can he ignite some hidden fire?”

She sensed that he was toying with her. She didn’t understand flirtation—why had
she imagined she could carry off this ruse? Was he making advances in order to
have a laugh with Francesca and her simpering friends later? Hurt blossomed in
her chest. She resented him for that. She ought to feel indignant, superior,
uncaring—anything but hurt.

Please don’t make sport of me.”

She cringed. Was that quavering, pleading voice really hers?

An infinitesimal pause. “Now, why on earth would I do such a thing?” His voice was
as smooth as velvet.

To please your vanity,” she replied, trying to regain
her wits.

Here.” He placed her hand to his chest. The contours
of his muscles were hard, powerfully developed. Even more so than she’d
expected. His body heat radiated through the satin and, beneath her hand, his
heart’s beat was rapid and strong.

Is that vanity?” He put a finger under her chin,
giving her no choice but to face him. “Is it?” He gentled his grip.

The warmth in his voice settled over her like luscious hot chocolate. Melting her
insides to quivering burgoo, rendering her speechless, unable to move.

My dear, lovely Lady Cranfield, I am going kiss you again.”

About Natasha Blackthorne:

Escape into the past with intensely
erotic, emotionally driven love stories. Natasha Blackthorne writes
character-focused historical erotica romance featuring strong internal
conflicts. Her stories are most frequently about the intimate journey of the
characters as they learn to open their hearts to love.

Her heroines are not perfect ladies.
They are wildflowers and wallflowers who enjoy flirting with the forbidden.
Whether they are bold or shy, her heroines’ strong desires and deep emotions
drive the plot and drive their heroes to the point of no return.

Connect with Natasha Blackthorne:

Please feel free to “Friend” me on Facebook or subscribe to my public feed.

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