RE-RELEASE BLITZ
backstage with sex-crazed rockers. Filled with angst, laughs, and some
steam, Stevie J Cole’s Pandemic Sorrow Rocker sure to tickled your
rocker fancy.
Title: How to Catch Butterflies Series
Author: Samantha Fontien
Re-Release Date: June 08
Release Day Blitz: June10-12
Hosted by: SBB Promotions
For 7 years Career girl Rebecca Keane had been stuck in an abusive relationship with David Rosenberg. Until one night, fate intervenes enforcing the strong minded Lucy Watters her long lost best friend, back into her life. Will David Rosenberg let her go? Together the two friends will embark on a journey of self discovery. Can they learn to trust or love again? Or will career’s and life get in the way. Can Rebecca and Lucy learn how to spread their wings and fly? Or will they fall into one of the men’s nets, and be caught forever? Join these two London girls on their international journey of love in the first part of a series of Butterflies books, because ‘ ‘A Girl should be pretty to see but hard to catch ‘should be pretty to see but hard to catch’
It all happened so quickly. . . As the blood slowly dripped into her mouth she crawled, reaching for the phone, thankfully it wasn’t too far out of her reach. She could hear him upstairs in their bedroom, ranting and smashing as he went from room to room. He was like a tornado on its destructive path which was their flat. She shook her head slightly, trying to focus her swollen eyes and pressed the redial button. Thank God she had been speaking to Lucy earlier that evening.
Please Pick up…. Please pick up…. Please pick up Rebecca willed….Quick… as the noise came closer, getting louder and nearer. “Lucy, help me please,” she cried out, and then suddenly the call broke off into screams.
The line went dead…
Did fate intervene again for Rebecca Keane and save her from being caught in a net forever? Will Jackson Harvey or Jason Hallow win the stubborn blonde back?
Since Lucy Watters life has changed too, will fate also have a hand in hers? Can Christopher Harper keep his Butterfly, or will George De Vere have his net ready to catch her when she falls?… Together the two friends embark on the concluding part of their journey of self discovery. Have they learned to love or trust again? Or will life get in their way? Can Rebecca and Lucy learn how to spread their wings and fly? Will they be pretty to see but hard to catch? Or will they fall into one of the men nets, and be caught forever?
Join these two Butterflies on the concluding part to their story. Follow them on their international journey of love, in the second part in a series of Butterflies books, because ‘Girls should be pretty to see but hard to catch’…
He walked in, dodging the pottery object that was hurtling towards his head, having left Lucy’s hand seconds earlier. “Hey, Lucy, come on?” He made a beeline for her, as she made off in the opposite direction heading towards the dressing table.
She was scanning it for more missiles to throw at him. Chris grabbed her arms, as she fought him off like a wildcat…
He was surprised, and instantly let her go; he hadn’t even grabbed her hard. He stood there stunned. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to do…
I’m a Happily Married,MUM of 2. I LOVE Music…I should as I am the daughter Of Musicians and was reared with a guitar in one hand and a pen in the other.
Yes. That’s what I need. I softened my body, surrendering to him.
“Bed,” he murmured against my lips.
We stripped at the same time, both eager. I wanted to see his body, to witness what he offered me, but it was dark in the room. Then he kissed me back onto the bed, and there was no more time to wonder. The cheap bedspread was rough and cool against my skin. His hands stroked over my breasts and then played gently with my nipples.
My body responded, turning liquid, but something was wrong.
I’d had this problem before. Not everyone wanted to play rough, but I was surprised that I’d misread him. His muscles were hard, the pads of his fingers were calloused. I didn’t know how he could touch me so softly. Everything about him screamed that he could hurt me, so why didn’t he?
I wanted him to have his nasty way with me, but every sweet caress destroyed the illusion. My fantasy was to let him do whatever he wanted with me, but not this.
“Harder,” I said. “I need it harder.”
Instead his hands gentled. The one that had been holding my breast traced the curve around and under.
I groaned in frustration. “What’s wrong?”
He reached down, still breathing heavily, and pressed a finger lightly to my cunt, then stroked upward through the moisture. I gasped, rocking my hips to follow his finger.
“You like this,” he said.
Yes, I liked it. I was undeniably aroused but too aware. I needed the emptiness of being taken. “I like it better rough.”
Colin frowned. My eyes widened at the ferocity of his expression.
In one smooth motion he flipped me onto my stomach. I lost my breath from the surprise and impact. His left hand slid under my body between my legs and cupped me. His right hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back. His erection throbbed beside my ass in promise. I wanted to beg him to fuck me, but all I could do was gasp. He didn’t need to be told, though, and ground against me, using my hair as a handle.
That small pain on my scalp was perfection, sharp and sweet. Numbness spread through me, as did relief.
The pain dimmed. My arousal did too, but that was okay. I was only vaguely aware of him continuing to work my body from behind.
I went somewhere else in my mind. I’d stay that way all night.
At least that’s what usually happened. Not this time. Instead I felt light strokes on my hair, my arms, my back. His cock pulsed hot against my thigh, but he didn’t try to put it inside me, not in any of the places it would almost fit. His hands on me didn’t even feel sexual. He petted me, and I arched into his caress.
“Why did you stop?” I meant it to come out demanding, but instead I sounded weak. I hated sounding weak, especially about sex. He may be the one with the cock and the fists, but I called the shots. I had to.
“Allie, shhh. It’s okay.” He was trying to soothe me, and it was working. He turned me back over and began to kiss me, still murmuring words against my lips. “I’ll give it to you. Don’t worry. Relax.” More words than he’d spoken all night.
I was lost, my emotions all jumbled up from my arousal and my high and subsequent low, at the mercy of this stranger.
What’s happening to me? I needed to get back to something I knew. I wanted him to fuck me, to be inside me, to center me. I whimpered, hoping he’d understand. “Shhh.” He arranged my arms and legs so that they were splayed open on the bed and then kissed his way down my stomach.
Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction.
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