Merry Christmas!

April Swings by Adriana Kraft- She Wants To Add A Spark To Their Marriage, Will He Agree? #RomanceNovel #Polyamory

Blurb

April Day deeply loves her husband, Derek, but something’s missing. To heat things up, she books them on a Caribbean cruise for their seventh anniversary. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but she knows she’s found it as soon as she spots the delectable sprite of an actress who stars in the ship’s daily shows.

Meghan Keenan’s having a blast with her latest squeeze, Clark Hendricks, who writes and directs the shipboard main shows. Should she turn down April’s request to heat up her marriage? And if she accepts, where will Clark fit in?

Derek is stunned by his wife’s brash pursuit of the hot young actress. Must he match her boldness to keep her from leaving him?

Excerpt

“Crap, you haven’t pounded me like this for years,” April panted.

Derek felt her fingers clawing at his back. She hadn’t been a wildcat like this for years, either. He lifted her butt off the bed and continued plowing in and out of her. Her heels pounded his backside.

“I’m coming!” she keened. “Come with me. Do it.” 

Her verbal barrage rattled his brain, and then his cock exploded. He worked his wife’s hips back and forth along his length, spurting and filling her like she’d demanded. Breathing heavily, he flexed his arms and settled April on the bed, then leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Her giggles confused his muddled thoughts.

“Good grief.” Grinning broadly, she lolled her head from side to side. “Does this look like a woman in pain?”

He shook his head. “Not really. But let’s roll over so I don’t have to worry about crushing you.” He rolled them easily until April beamed down at him.

She licked perspiration from his chin. “So watching me ride Meg’s fingers must’ve been a turn-on after all.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “That, and imagining her howling into the night.” He ran a finger along her nose. “You didn’t do badly in that department, yourself.”

“I hadn’t realized how silent I’d become over the years until Meg quizzed you about me. I could hardly keep my mouth closed in the lounge.”

“I noticed.”

“So are you ready for Meg to get more involved with us?”

He scowled. “Do we have to? Wasn’t this good enough?”

April shook her head. “Who knows what good enough is? Do you really want to turn your back on Meg? Do you really want me to turn my back on her? We may never have this kind of opportunity again. We’re free to try whatever we want here.”

She kissed his mouth and dragged her tongue across his lips. “Don’t you at least want to try? For us. Or at least, for me.”

---

Buy Links:

Available From:

Amazon (universal link) http://mybook.to/aprilswings 

Extasy Books http://www.extasybooks.com/april-swings 

Add to Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36423768-april-swings 

--

Behind the Scenes at Meghan’s Playhouse

What’s your favorite erotic fantasy? Does it include ménage – maybe a man sandwich, or making love with a woman and a man at the same time? Have you ever kissed a girl? 

We started writing our Meghan’s Playhouse series to deliver some of our favorite fantasies for our readers. When we began book 1, we simply planned to write an erotic romp. We knew we wanted a young “sprite,” a bisexual woman full of energy and inventiveness, as the star in our story. We thought of her as a modern-day Aphrodite, bringing other couples together through sharing sex with both partners.

In the beginning, we didn’t give too much thought to her motivation, or to that of the other major players. Characters have a way of taking over, though, and Meg wasn’t satisfied with just being a piece of fluff having hot sex scenes. Each book in the series is its own love story, stirring up emotions even Meg wasn’t prepared for.

The original five-book series was first released in 2009 by a different e-publisher. It’s been unavailable for over four years, and we’re thrilled Extasy Books has contracted to re-release it, completely revised and re-edited. In the meantime, Meg insisted we write one more adventure. The six books are releasing approximately every ten weeks.



Seducing Cat, May, 2017

A Woman for Zachary, August, 2017

April Swings, October, 2017

A Ring for Christmas, December 7, 2017

Vegas Gambler, February 23, 2018

Meg’s Folly, May 4, 2018




About the Author

Winner of the 2014 Bisexual Book Award for erotic fiction, author Adriana Kraft is a husband wife team writing Sizzling Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More.

Readers can count on our Romantic Suspense line for gutsy characters, hot sex, and breathtaking intimacy as our hero and heroine battle outer threats and inner demons to stay alive and fall in love.
We write our Erotic Romance stories to entertain, of course, but most of all we write them because we believe in happy endings for all who fall in love, whatever their gender, sexual orientation or numerical combination.

Here you’ll find multiple partners, three-way, four-way and more, swing lifestyle, lesbian, bisexual, ménage and polyamory, in both contemporary and paranormal settings.

Together we have published more than forty romance novels and novellas to outstanding reviews. We love hearing from readers at adrianakraft99@yahoo.com.

Links:

Website: http://www.adrianakraft.com/

Blog: http://www.adrianakraft.com/blog 

FaceBook Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Adriana-Kraft/182846025133440

Twitter: http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft 

GoodReads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/1578571.Adriana_Kraft

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/uRvCr 

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/adrianakraft 

Google+ https://plus.google.com/102791537641895264573/posts

Giveaway

Two winners will win their choice of Book 1 or Book 2 in the Meghan’s Playhouse Series:

Book 1 Seducing Cat 

Blurb

What could college English Professor Caitlin Shanahan ever have in common with the brash carpenter Kurt Davis?  The sexy sprite Meghan Keenan, that's what.


Book 2- A Woman for Zachary

Blurb

It’s New York! Broadway beckons, but Meg has more fun keeping an erotic triangle going with her current flame, Zach Cullen, and her drama coach, Josie Patrice.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

OR

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8b9ec5be182

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Sultry Nights An Anthology- Love, Passion, Romance and Desire From Sexy Men And The Women Who Fall For Them- #RomanceNovels

Sultry Nights 

A Limited Edition Romance Collection

Containing Stories from: Nicole Morgan, Jocelyn Dex, Alison Foster, Kate Richards, Linda O'Connor, Samantha Holt, Jerrie Alexander, Whitley Cox, Krista Ames, Ursula Sinclair, Measha Stone, Tuesday Embers, Siera London,  Rachel Shane, Bonnie Phelps, Misha Elliott, 
Alyson Reynolds, Jenna Bayley-Burke,  Madison Michael, Pepper Goodrich, Marcia James, Destiny Blaine

The authors are giving away lots of goodies with this tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Don't forget  you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.


Blurb:

Love, passion, romance and desire… No matter what your preference, this set of 22 hot and sexy reads has just what you need. From surprise love affairs to bad boys that we can’t help but fall for, and couples that were meant to be, this compilation from Romance Collections is sure to please your every single need.

Sultry Nights Buy Links:

Amazon | 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Featuring:


Frozen- The Martini Lounge
by Ursula Sinclair

Blurb:

Lani

Ever have that one perfect moment in time, when you know exactly what you’re supposed to do, who you’re supposed to be in life? Well, that had been me, and it certainly had lasted for more than a moment. I’d decided to pledge myself to God and help others in his name. Selfless, that was me
and I was weeks away from taking my final vows. Then something happened, I met someone and suddenly I questioned everything.


Rom

I’ve always lived my life on my terms. Granted, I never thought I’d grow up to be a male stripper. But what the hell, I made good money and now, I had a shot at something more. And the women. Yeah, I loved women but they came and went. I preferred it that way. Didn’t matter which of us left first, as long as one of us did. I didn’t do attachments. Then something happened. I’m no saint, but I saved someone and wanted an attachment.
Only to find out I could never have her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Excerpt: 

I’d always been the dutiful child. I was a good student, did as I was told. Never broke the rules. My twin broke them enough for the both of us. I merely tried to protect her. But my decision to become a nun wasn’t made lightly. I’ve always had this need to give to others. I felt an innate emptiness, a sense there was something out there that needed my help—the church.

I nursed my single glass of wine, but as the night wore on, my temples pounded against the noise in the room. I sometimes suffered from migraines and this kind of atmosphere provided fodder to bring one on. Lots of people around, the voices and the thumping music. Thankfully, the women were ready to leave the lounge after a few drinks. Dancing didn’t really seem to be done much in here, more a place to drink and socialize. Although, I could spot the strippers in the room by their distinctive lack of clothing and whatever they rubbed over their bodies to make them glisten. I made it a point not to stare too much at anyone. The reason we’d come to the club had all the women standing up and heading over into one of the other rooms, where the show they’d come to see would take place. That was my cue.

“I’m calling it a night, sis,” I announced as I stood too, rubbing my head.

Lara wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Are you sure? You okay?”

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day and I have a pounding headache. It’s best I leave now.” I squinted, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Oh damn, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I enjoyed being here with you tonight and celebrating at least a little bit with you and Corrine.”

“Thank you again for coming, Lani,” Corrine said, giving me a quick hug.

“Yes,” Lara added, kissing my cheek. “Thank you. Love you. Feel better.”

She squeezed my arm.

“I will. Love you too.”

“Want me to help you get a cab?” Lara asked

“No, I’ll just call one.”

“Okay. Text me once you get home,” Lara said.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, sure.” It’s not like I lived alone. I hadn’t moved out of our parent’s house yet. I wouldn’t until I took my novitiate vows in a month, but I worked every day and went to church every other day. Only returned to our parent’s house in time for dinner and to sleep.

I made my way to the elevator while my sister and her companions went in the other direction to one of the rooms for the strip show. Part of me was a little curious and wanted to see one, but the other more practical part of me knew I shouldn’t. Having a drink in a bar was one thing, watching
the strip show, well something else entirely. Besides, the world seemed a little tilted. I stepped onto the elevator and leaned against the side to right myself. I’d just pressed the button for the first floor when someone stepped on. My head ached so much I couldn’t even glance up to see who I shared the ride with. I stared at the floor and could see the dark shoes and pant legs, the size hinted at a man.

The door closed, the elevator dropped and my body swayed but I didn’t fall.

The man who now stood behind me said, “Whoa!” He held onto my waist as though to steady me.

“Tha—thank—y…” Something was wrong with my voice. My words didn’t come out right. How much did I have to drink? The elevator door opened and I took a step forward to get out when the entire floor spun up to meet my face, but strong hands held onto me.

“I got ya.”

“Everything okay?”

A male’s voice asked, one I didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Just a little too much to drink.”

I didn’t recognize the one who answered either. “Na…” I wanted to protest, but the arms holding me up were the only reason I could walk forward. I leaned against his strength, depending on it.

I felt myself being placed in the back of a car. The scent of smoke and stale air made me want to puke. “Cab,” I muttered.

“Yeah, cab.”

Hands reached across my lap to snap my seatbelt, pausing to stroke my breasts. Wrong, this was all Wrong.

“Nooooooo!” I cried out.

~*~*~*~*~*~


Author Bio and links:

Ursula Sinclair is the alter ego of LaVerne Thompson, an award-winning, best-selling, multi-published author, an avid reader and a writer of contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi sensual romances. She loves creating worlds within our world. She writes romantic suspense and new adult
romance under the pen name Ursula Sinclair.

She is a certified chocoholic and is currently working on several projects. Some might even involve chocolate. But writing helps maintain her sanity.

Sign up for her newsletter for sneak peeks and advance info on new releases as well as a few freebies to subscribers. http://bit.ly/1hA7C9W

Contact her at:

Facebook: http://facebook.com/groups/lavernesnews  and  https://www.facebook.com/ursulasinclairauthor

Websites: http://lavernethompson.com and  http://ursulasinclair.com

Twitter:  http://twitter.com/lavernethompson

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Field of Gratitude by Jacqueline Anne- A Chance Encounter One Snowy Night Changes Their Lives Forever #RomanceNovel #MF

They say things can change in a split second.

[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romantic Suspense, M/F, HEA]

After surviving a hellish childhood as an orphan, Buccaneers pitcher Carlos Castillo keeps to himself, fearful of losing everything. That is, until he’s stranded during a snowstorm and rescued by antique shop owner Hope Hartmann.

With a passion for treasures and stories, Hope dreams of the fairy tale love and won’t settle for anything less. Then one extraordinary snowy day, a handsome ballplayer knocks on her door. Taking him in, she discovers a connection she’d never before experienced.

Carlos can’t ignore his feelings for Hope or the light she sheds on his painful past. He shows Hope heaven during hell, a time filled with threats and destruction.

It was a love Carlos never knew existed, and one Hope always wished for. Will a dangerously mysterious treasure ruin their chance at love?

STORY EXCERPT

He walked in, stomping the snow off his sneakers onto her doormat. “Sorry to be a bother, ma’am. Me llamo Carlos Castillo,” he said with an accent. She immediately knew English was not his first language. “May I borrow your phone? My car broke down and my cell phone battery is almost dead.”

“Sure. Hope Hartmann. Nice to meet you, Carlos.” She held out her hand. He removed his gloves and shook it, her breath hitching at his touch. She had shaken tons of hands over the years, and it never felt like this. It was as if he was caressing her, his hand both rugged and smooth.

Snap out of it, Hope.

“Right this way.”

She gestured for him to walk toward the counter. She didn’t want him behind her, just in case. Oh, who the hell was she kidding? She had the sudden urge to check out his backside. As he walked by her, she inhaled his masculine scent and admired his tight tush clad in denim.

They reached the desk and she handed him the phone.

He grabbed a card from his wallet and dialed. He spoke to someone in Spanish, making her wish she could remember more from her high school classes, but either way, she was thoroughly enjoying hearing him talk. After a few minutes, he hung up.

“Thank you. A tow truck will be here within two hours. Is there a food place open?”

“Lucky for you, there is one bar open until midnight in this small town,” she explained. It wasn’t a big place, but Hal’s would do.

“Gracias. Um, would you like to come with me? I would like to buy you some comida for your troubles,” he offered with a genuine smile.

Food from Hal’s actually entailed greasy burgers and fries, but beat a granola bar any day.

“Sure. Thank you. Give me a few minutes to finish up here and we can walk over. Why don’t you charge your cell phone while you are waiting? I have a few different chargers for my customers to use while they shop. It often keeps them in the store longer.”

* * * *

Carlos plugged his phone in a charger then watched the woman move around the charming shop full of various items. Hope Hartmann was a vision and there was something intriguing about her. She was beautiful and possessed the girl-next-door vibe, as his teammates explained to him one day since he had never heard that term before.

His heart rate had picked up a bit from the first moment their eyes met. No matter how much his English tutor had helped him, when he got nervous, he mixed Spanish and English together. It drove some of his teammates crazy.

“Is this your shop?” he questioned.

“I am the H in F&H Treasures. My twin sister, Faith, and I own this place. What brings you through this town other than car troubles?”

“I’m on vacation, although it hasn’t been a good start so far. I’m heading to a lakeside cabin a few towns over.”

“By yourself?” She quirked an eyebrow then continued putting away some more items.

While he was used to the idea of being by himself, being in the presence of a beauty like Hope, reminded him of the many downfalls. “Trying something new for the holidays this year.”

“What made you select somewhere cold? I’m guessing by your attire that you aren’t used to the snow.”

“Dart game with some friends.” He chuckled, remembering the late night after Graham and Jordan’s wedding. It was Cece’s idea, the free-spirited one. She had grabbed a map from a box in Tyson’s SUV and taped it to the wall at the bar. Carlos didn’t think most people owned maps anymore, but Cece explained she wanted it for some art project.

“I’m from the Dominican Republic. This is my first snowy winter. I usually spend my off-season in Florida.”

He purchased a small condo not too far from the beach when he first signed with the Buccaneers. It made sense since he was down there for spring training, and he preferred the warmer weather.

“Off-season? What do you do?”

“I play baseball.”

“As in professionally?”

He nodded. He was proud of his achievements, but still felt awkward talking about his career. It was a dream job for many that only a few got to experience.

“Oh.”

He wasn’t sure about her simple response. When most people discovered what he did, they would start asking a bunch of questions and ask for his autograph, and he found it overwhelming.

Hope grabbed her coat and bag, turned off the lights, and locked up the store. He stayed beside her as they walked toward the bar when Hope began to laugh uncontrollably. It confused him, but the wild sound warmed his heart.

“Hope? What’s so funny?” he curiously asked.

She quickly covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’m not laughing at you. This whole day has been odd. First, there was this peculiar snow globe. Then you, this gorgeous professional baseball player, comes knocking on my door. Literally.”

She giggled again. “I had pepper spray in my hand ready to use it in case you were a burglar or a rapist.”

Gorgeous, huh? He grinned at her compliment. “Better to be safe than sorry. Now that I think about it, I am very grateful you even opened the door.



ADULT EXCERPT

 “I’m really hoping you are going to join me in here rather than stand there,” he urged, snapping her away from ogling.

She took a few steps in and leaned against the sink. “Maybe I’m enjoying the view,” she countered.
“It’s much better from in here.”

She had no doubt. Smiling, she undressed, his eyes watching her the whole time. The way he looked at her made her hot, and she could feel the passion exuding from his cinnamon brown eyes, like he was mentally devouring her.

She stepped into the shower, and Carlos shifted her right under the water. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back to wet her hair, welcoming the steamy liquid when Carlos began sucking on her breasts. An erotic moan escaped her as his hands slithered down her body and cupped her sex. She gazed into his eyes and saw a mischievous look, and then he was kneeling before her.

“Hold on to the walls,” he requested. He lifted her left leg, causing her to squeal and try to keep her balance, and then he placed it over his shoulder. “I won’t let you fall, Esperanza.”

The statement sounded like a promise but took on so many different meanings in her mind. She didn’t want to lose her balance in the shower, but the man caressing her made her weak in the knees. She didn’t want to fall flat on her face when it came to life or her business, and he had been right beside her the past two days.

She couldn’t help falling for him.

She nodded at his words, deciding either way falling wasn’t so bad with Carlos around.

Watching his deliberate movements, he smoothed his hands up her legs, one remaining on her butt holding her in place while fingers from the other sank into her pussy. With a sharp intake of breath, she caught his attention, and it earned her one of his sexy smiles displaying nothing but sensuality and desire. Their gaze remained on each other while he moved his fingers in and out of her. Despite the rush of water flowing over her, she could feel the heat and wetness seeping from her. The way he moved and the look in his eyes slowly tantalized her, turning her on even more. For in that moment, their pleasure was their only care in the world.

Carlos dipped his head with his tongue darting out to taste her. She gripped his head, enjoying the silkiness of his wet, dark hair. He dug his fingers into her ass, deeply massaging the curves as he continued licking her. Feeling his fingers roaming closer to her anus, she moaned and rocked her hips wanting more, and he began probing the tight hole.

“Oh God, Carlos. That feels so good,” she enticed him.

She felt her orgasm start to build. Carlos was sucking her clit and fingering her, increasing the intensity when he splayed his other hand over her behind and his finger slid past the tight opening of her ass.

“Fuuuck!” She groaned at the full feeling as euphoric tremors seized her.

Carlos was relentless with the pleasure he gave, drawing out her orgasm to the point where she was sure she would collapse right onto the tiled floor. He must have sensed it because he quickly changed his hold to prevent her from falling. Then he stood and immediately pulled her into his arms, her head settling onto his chest while she tried to slow her breathing.

The passion this man had was mind-blowing, and she wanted him to feel the same way.

Pressing soft, open-mouth kisses over his pecs, stopping to lick each of his nipples, she moved her tongue down over his abs, feeling the dips of each defined muscle. She watched him closely as she moved to her knees. His expression was a mixture of longing and gratitude.

“Hope,” he said breathily.

She licked the entire length of his cock, drinking up the pellets of water. She dragged her fingernails up his legs, feeling the coarse hair covering his strong limbs. Reaching his hips, she moved one hand to his fine ass and cupped his balls with the other, all while sucking him deep into her mouth.

“You’re boca, Esperanza.” He growled. “That feels so fucking good.”

She loved hearing the Spanish roll off his tongue, knowing he was extremely turned on right now. Swirling her tongue around his tip, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum, she took him into her mouth again, her tongue dancing around his dick, feeling the smoothness mixed with the engorged veins. As she felt his balls tighten up, she began to gently knead them.

Carlos gripped her head and began moving his hips, fucking her mouth. She took everything he gave her while she kept exploring and licking his cock.

“Hope, I have to—”

She knew he was about to come and wanted to taste him. Moaning her approval, the sound vibrating her lips around his length, he rocked into her faster then stilled, a low growl arising from his chest as he ejaculated into her mouth.

He went to pull out, but she stopped him, wanting just a few more soft sucks of his now sensitive cock.

“Oh Dios mío.” He shuddered.

She loved the fact that she could make this tall, strong, sexy man—a man who she could only imagine had his choice of women—quiver with her touch.

--

Buy Link- www.bookstrand.com/book/field-of-gratitude

Connect with Jacqueline Anne:

Website: www.authorjacquelineanne.com

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/authorjacquelineanne

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/8537336.Jacqueline_Anne

Amazon Author: www.amazon.com/author/jacquelineanne

Twitter: www.twitter.com/AuthorJacAnne

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/AuthorJacAnne

Forsaking Hope By Beverley Oakley- She Was Transformed Into An Exquisite Example of Womanhood For Him

Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

About the Book: 

Two years ago, she missed their secret assignation and disappeared without a trace. Now the divine "Miss Hope" is in Felix Durham’s bed - a 'surprise cheering-up gift' sourced by his friends from London's most exclusive brothel. Felix is in heaven - and he wants to stay there.

So does Hope, but she can’t.

Hope Merriweather lives by a code of honour – even if she’s a prostitute. Having sold her soul, she’s prepared to sacrifice everything else to protect what she believes in. Even if honour – in her eyes – comes at the cost of thieving and breaking hearts. Including her own.


Available for preorder here:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Excerpt: 

Chapter One

Wilfred Hunt.

If there was a name to tip Hope into the abyss of despair she was hearing it spill from Madame Chambon’s lips now as the older woman directed Hope to take a seat in the reception room, presumably so Madame could loom oppressively over her.

With her hands on her ample, expensively padded hips, Hope’s benefactress—procuress, employer and gaoler were other monikers—sent Hope a beetling look that needed no interpreting: Regardless of Hope’s true feelings, Hope must project the required show of warmth and delight at being the chosen one.

Madame patted the side of her faux curls. Years of hot irons had reduced her hair to the texture of wool but her crowning glory these days was supplemented by the lustrous locks of those girls who dared cross her – before they were thrown back into the street from where most had come.

Nevertheless, Hope had to make her resistance clear. Surely Madame who knew her history would understand her loathing for this man, above all others. “I shan’t do it,” she whispered. There was little evidence of the willful child and wild adolescent who’d been the despair of her family. “I won’t—”
Outside, the noise of the traffic rumbling over the cobbles and the shrill calls of competing vendors settled upon the tense silence. Madame Chambon’s other girls, ranged around the sumptuously appointed room on red velvet upholstered banquettes, watched the exchange with prurient fascination. Hope knew it had been a calculated ploy of Madame’s to conduct her interview in public so that Hope would serve as an example to them.

No one crossed Madame Chambon.

The shrill cry of a fishmonger caused Madame to look pointedly out of the window. With something between a smile and a sneer, she smoothed a Marcel wave.

“Is that where you plan to return, Hope? The gutter?”

Her nose twitched and in the sunlight that filtered into the room, the grooves chiselled between mouth and chin were thrown into harsh relief, highlighted rather than hidden by the thick powder she used to conceal her age.

Madame Chambon’s comfort, now and into retirement, depended on obedient girls. Hope knew that as well as anyone. She’d had to bury her rebellious streak just to ensure food in her belly. The Frenchwoman raised a chiselled brow and began to pace slowly in front of her girls. A painter with an eye for beauty would have been ecstatic at capturing such a spectacle on canvas. The discerning young man about town who visited 56 Albemarle Street was frequently rendered ecstatic by the range of delights Madame Chambon's girls offered in addition to the visual.

“You forget yourself, Hope. I put a roof over your head and deck you out as handsomely as Mr Charles Worth ever did for his most discerning customer.” There was acid in Madame Chambon’s tone. “But for me, you'd be starving and glad of the pennies you could trade for a grubby stand-up encounter in a dark alley.”

Madame Chambon thrust out her bosom and breathed through her nose, her response a calculated warning to the other girls arranged in various languid poses about the ornately decorated reception room that intransigence would not be tolerated.

“Mr Hunt has requested you.” She paused and when Hope remained silent, though her stance and expression left no one in any doubt as to her horror regarding this enforced assignation, went on.

“Remember what I told you—what I tell all my girls when they first come here? The past must be forgotten the moment you step over my threshold. You are reborn, remodelled, refashioned into the most exquisite delectation of womanhood. A marquess, a prince, is well recompensed for the tidy sum he hands over in order to enjoy your sparkling wit, to converse with you in French, or if he chooses, on philosophy…to enjoy your charms…and,” she added significantly, “your gracious hospitality and tender ministrations to his needs. That is our agreement and you are no different. If Mr Hunt wishes you, Hope, to attend him at his residence then you will go.”

Faith, one of the kinder girls, patted Hope’s arm in silent solidarity. Hope didn’t expect any of them to speak up in her defence. Not when they all relied on Madame Chambon as much as she did to provide them with the necessities of life. Anything more than that was part of a strict contract that indentured a girl for life unless she was able to secure a generous benefactor to settle Madame's severance bill. The fine clothes were part of the charade, necessary to entice a more elite clientele. Hope’s exquisite wardrobe did not belong to her though she'd have forsaken all the dupion silk and Spitalfields lace for the freedom of the gutter and to be mistress of her own destiny – and her body - if she could only be sure of a plate of gravy and potatoes every second day.

Closing her eyes, she hung her head, the carefully coiffed curls that fell forwards brushing against her tear-streaked cheeks. It was as well that they not be in evidence. Tears, weakness, vulnerability were like a red rag to a bull where Madame Chambon was concerned.

“How long…do I have to prepare myself?”

She was not so stupid she couldn’t admit defeat when there was no alternative. Obduracy was beaten out of one, but tears ensured a girl got the very worst next assignment. Their clients weren’t all marquesses and princes, though they did require a very fat pocketbook.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Hope repeated it in a leaden tone, and stared at her hands, clasped in her lap; white-knuckled.

As white as the rabbit-fur that edged her fashionable black-and-white striped satin cuirass. Hope had the tall, slim figure suited to the scandalously tight tie-back skirts that were all the rage, the back flowing into a train adorned with elaborate swags and trimmed with bows. She'd turned heads the length of Oxford Street as she’d promenaded along the pavement following a walk through Hyde Park earlier that afternoon. In fact, for the first time in two years, she’d almost felt happy as she’d pretended a sense of freedom in the afternoon sun, blocking her mind to the prison to which she was returning.

She drew in her breath and forced herself to be brave, knowing the punishment she’d invite for daring to speak her mind.

“Please tell Mr Hunt I will see him again under sufferance.”

Madame Chambon’s voice was surprisingly caramel. “Well then, now that you have made your objection clear, Hope, you will be pleased to hear that Mr Hunt’s desires are not only motivated by fond memories of your no-doubt mutually satisfying congress. I believe he wishes to acquaint you with news of your family.”

Hope hid her shock. “I have no family.” With care, she modified her tone so it was as leaden as before though emotion roiled close to the surface.

“Not even a sister?”

Hope raised her chin. Here was the chink and Madame knew it. The woman did her research.
Aware that the other girls who surrounded her were tense with anticipation, Hope struggled not to respond. Camaraderie existed at surface level but one never knew when it might profit one to have the dirt on a fellow prostitute. It was, clearly, another reason Madame Chambon had chosen to make this conversation public.

“Mr Hunt will see you at nine tomorrow evening,” said the so-called Frenchwoman who, it was whispered, was from the gutters of Lambeth, not Paris. “At his apartments in Duke Street. Now go and prepare yourself for Lord Farrow. Married to a monolith like the venerable Lady Farrow, he likes his girls vivacious and free-spirited. There’ll be less coin in your pocket if you sully the transaction with that long face, Hope.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Author Info: 

Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.

Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth-century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.

You can get in contact with Beverley at:

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