Those of you who are Saturday Spankings or Sunday Snog fans are sure to have noticed that I have a new release coming up will you know Sharing Nicely is available for pre-order at Total-E-Bound and if you pre-order now you’ll get the novel at the bargain price of £2.80 (a 15% reduction) and if that’s not enough to get you signing up for a VIP account at TEB (Saves me typing Total-E-Bound each time!) how about the knowledge that you’ll be able to download your copy the very moment it is release.
And there’s more! You can get TEB books delivered right to your kindle. No, really, you can. It’s easy-peasy too. You just have to give TEB permission to send books to your kindle then give TEB your kindle email address and BOOM! All the good stuff direct to your kindle a month earlier than general release to Amazon. All the instructions on how to do it are right here: http://www.total-e-bound.com/popupkindle.asp
So now, more about the book:
Kerry Matthews is used to stress—she runs her own high-end London club called Diamonds, but what she isn’t used to is attention from two very persuasive and powerful men.
Darren Bennett and Greg Stamford are life-long rivals, but call a truce to spend one night with sassy, curvy Kerry. They’re not content to share forever though. They both have a selfish desire to possess her completely.
Darren buys her seductive lingerie, flowers and chocolates, Greg flies her to Paris for a romantic break, cleans her flat and makes her breakfast in bed. Both vying to cement their place in her heart. She needs to decide between them but is dazzled by their persuasive personas and extravagant gifts.
Reader Advisory: This book contains a scene of MFM Ménage and some violence.
And an excerpt to get you in the mood:
“I agree, mate. We’d get chucked out. Want to go to my room? It’s the Ambassador Suite.” Darren announced this like I should be impressed. Maybe it was the most expensive room in the hotel? I wasn’t sure.
“My room has the best view over the city,” Greg snapped.
“Yes, that’s what they tell people who can’t get in the Ambassador Suite.”
“Boys, stop it.” My voice was quite loud. The low murmur of conversation stopped for a moment, then carried on. “Look. You are both very rich, I get it. You both want to be top dog, I get that too, but would you stop bickering like bloody schoolboys, okay? I am very flattered, truly, and I never in a million years would have imagined being in this situation…” I left the sentence hanging and gathered my thoughts.
“Please don’t say no.” Darren’s smile dissipated. “I’m sorry.”
“Well—” I tried to continue with my tirade. I had the moral high ground. I was going to say thanks but no thanks and leave both gentleman hanging, but say that I hoped they’d both still honour their bookings. I was going to make a stand, I really was. Then… Well, I’m not quite sure what happened.
“I’m sorry too,” Greg added. “We’re just billionaires used to getting our own way. Let’s go to the Ambassador Suite, it’s a lovely room.”
Had I heard that right? Had Greg Stamford apologised and ceded to his most hated rival? “Yes, let’s,” Darren nodded. “Please, Kerry?”
I challenge any woman alive to not cave in when hit with not one but two sets of puppy dog eyes from intensely handsome men. I couldn’t do it.
“Come on then,” I whispered, “lead the way.”
Darren beckoned a waiter and pointed at the bottle and glasses. No words were spoken but the waiter seemed to know exactly what was needed from him.
The lift was large, gold and sparkly. I was in awe of that, which I thought didn’t bode well since I’d not even reached the heart of the hotel. It was huge too but it felt like it was crowded with dozens of bodies because Darren and Greg squashed up close to me. I could barely catch my breath, I was completely overwhelmed. Darren grabbed my left hand and Greg punched the number into the plate. Obviously he’d stayed in the Ambassador Suite before.
When Greg noticed my fingers were entwined with his rival’s, he took my other hand. It was at once comforting and scary to have these two men fighting for possession over my body. I felt like I was in good hands with these two strapping guys but I was also nervous about how they might pull me apart when they both decided to maul me.
That vision sounded unpleasant but it wasn’t really. As long as no one came to blows and we all ended up satisfied, I could see it being a rather pleasant experience, but the nerves still rattled in the bottom of my tummy like that one last coin you can’t get out of a piggy bank. What if it all went wrong? My proportions weren’t those of a supermodel, I had a stomach and it wobbled. My boobs were quite perky but they were real and so they sagged into my body when not held up by my bra. These little imperfections niggled at me because, although I was fairly happy in my own skin, I was pretty unhappy with revealing it to others.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me? Well, that’s a pile of crap, I can tell you. Years of fat jibes from school to university and beyond had made me self-conscious. I had never really been fat either, just tall and well proportioned before the rest of my class. At ten I had been five foot five and an adult size twelve. My body mass index had been perfect but I was still called all the fat names under the sun. It had hurt even though I knew they were wrong.
And when I stopped worrying about my body I worried about being with these particular two guys. It wasn’t that they scared me—they were both charming, handsome and sweet. But like owning a domesticated lion, you felt safe having it around but you never knew when it might turn savage.
The motion of the lift was barely perceptible, a slight hum accompanied by a sinking feeling in my stomach, like someone squishing it down to fit more inside. Darren snuggled even closer to me and nibbled on my earlobe.
Greg, not to be outdone, slid his hand over my waist and up to cup my breast and at the same time he dipped his head and cradled his lips in the dip between my neck and my shoulder. Just the barest movement vibrated through me, sending shivers of need down to nestle between my thighs.
Ear, neck, breast, hand. I was surrounded by manliness. I was completely clothed but felt stripped bare. What if someone got in now and saw me like this? Would they presume me a prostitute—would they even care? It seemed you could get away with murder if you were rich.
Want more? Well pre-order Sharing Nicely now and be sure to get it!