Showing posts with label Biker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Biker. Show all posts

Sunday, August 3, 2014

A biker sex god is bent on taking my virginity

Exquisite Trouble

Iron Horse MC, #1

a Contemporary New Adult Biker Romance
by Ann Mayburn

Heat Level- Smoking Hot
Editor: Ekatarina Sayanova
Published by: Fated Desires Publishing

Before I met Smoke I’d never been kissed, really kissed, by a man, let alone a biker sex god bent on taking my virginity and my heart.

I got dragged into the deadly world of the Iron Horse MC by my crazy twin sister who is engaged to the club’s President and the schemes of my even crazier mom who only cares about herself. Smoke has been assigned by the club to keep me safe even though he’s everything that I should be afraid of. He’s the kind of man who lives by his own rules and does whatever he wants whenever he wants, but he treats me like I’m something rare and precious, not a socially dysfunctional basket case who has no idea how to love, but needs him more than her next breath.

Not that my feelings matter, because if we don’t find my mother soon, the only thing I’ll have to be worried about is who is going to kill me first.


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Naughty Excerpt
Dazzled by his presence, my mind was not working as well as it usually did. Case in point, encouraging a stranger to touch me.

He blinked at me and I could have sworn he was trying not to smile. Standing, he looked down at me and ran his fingers through my hair, or tried to. It was a little tangled from being shoved up under a hood. When I winced he made a low, rumbling noise. “Sorry, baby girl. I’ll brush it for you later.”


The sensation of his fingers seemed to linger on my scalp and made my skin tingle. Dumbfounded, I stared up at him. Usually when someone I didn’t know or didn’t trust touched me it felt like bugs were crawling on my skin. I have sensory issues, which is yet another one of the reasons my love life is barren. Hard to date a guy when his touch makes you flinch away. But this guy—this hot-ass potential psycho—touched me and it felt … good. How odd was that?

He withdrew his hand from my hair and I mourned the loss of his touch even as I tried to puzzle out my body’s odd reaction to him. We continued to stare at each other until my neck started to hurt from looking up at him. I rattled my handcuffed hands against the chair I was in. “How about you unlock me, and I’ll be more than happy to haul my ass out of here and take care of my hair myself.”

He shook his head and hesitated, an intense look of concentration coming over his face, then he reached out and ever so lightly ran his knuckles over my throat. Bliss. If his touch in my hair tingled, skin-to-skin contact with this man burned a path of arousal straight to my pussy. A soft moan escaped me as he continued to stroke my neck, now with his fingertips, and he let out what sounded almost like a sigh of relief, then groaned in response. I promised myself I wouldn’t look to see if he was aroused. I mean his crotch was right at my eye level. All I had to do was glance and … oh yeah. He was aroused. Holy moly, was he aroused. And so was I.


Damn, no wonder my few friends and sister were always going on and on about how much fun sex was. If it felt anything like the pleasure my nerves were singing with from him simply caressing my neck, I could see the appeal. His rough fingertips stroking over my throat felt indecently good, sending little bursts of sunlight through my blood. When he touched me, the rest of the world vanished, leaving me feeling like I was alone in the universe with this intoxicating man.

“Baby,” he said in a rumbling purr, “you have the softest skin.”

I looked away quickly, hating the way my face heated and his chuckle.

To my disappointment and relief, he stopped petting me. “With you blushing that pretty from me touching your neck, I can believe that you’re not Sarah.”

I snorted and looked up at him, much more comfortable without all that pussy-tingling heat building up as he touched me. “It’s true. Look at my chest, for Pete’s sake.”


Curving my back, I thrust my chest out against the old bar t-shirt that I’d thrown on after my shift. The shirt was tight, and a faded navy blue, with a deep enough neckline to tempt men to throw money at my tits. Not exactly the classiest thing, but I would get an online accounting and investment job soon enough and I’d never have to wear anything low-cut again. Would be nice to meet guys who look at my eyes before my boobs. Speaking of guys looking at my chest ... Mystery man in his patch-covered black leather vest and sinful worn blue jeans that hugged his thick legs and huge dick—yes, huge—well, he was currently staring at my breasts like he wanted to lick them. My hormones were all for that but my mind wasn’t.

“I don’t have implants; Sarah does. Think about it. If you’ve met her, you’ve noticed her tits. Or, if like the rest of the adult male population in the world, you’ve seen her Playboy spread when she won Pole Dancer of the Year in Vegas, you would notice that I’m not carrying around gravity-defying boobs attached to my body.” Okay, I was actually pretty jealous that she could wear shirts without a bra, but I was on a roll.
He blinked at my chest and his jaw clenched. When he reached out to touch my breast I tried to flinch away, but he crouched down again and caught my gaze. I found myself staring at him, mesmerized by the perfection of his rough, male beauty. Back at the club I’d thought he was hot, but now I realized that he was just plain devastating. So grown-man sexy it made my pussy soaking wet.

He made a soothing sound that had me almost sighing in pleasure. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re as skittish as a virgin.”

I lifted my chin and laughed, praying he didn’t see the way my ears were burning. “Like a virgin. As if.”

His eyelids shuttered half shut and a wave of warmth came off his body and caressed mine. “A virgin?”

“I said as if, as in I’m not. I do it all the time. I am totally not a virgin.” I internally winced at how dumb that sounded, but I wasn’t going to admit to this sex god that I was about as inexperienced sexually as a person could get.

“You’re killing me, baby.” He stared at me, then slowly leaned closer and rubbed his lips against my neck while taking an audible breath. “Nice.”

“What’s nice?” I squeaked out.

“All this innocent beauty is for me and only me.” He licked at the line of my throat, then placed soft, wet kisses just beneath the edge of my jaw line, turning me on something fierce.

Never, ever had I been this aroused and it was all because of a stranger, a hot stranger, a hot, hung stranger, rubbing his lips on my throat. Yeah, I’d felt the electricity between us at the club, but I had no idea it would be this intense. I was a slave to my hormones, trying to resist the urge to wiggle beneath his wonderful mouth. I swear I was within shouting distance of having an orgasm, something of a miracle because it took me forever to get off on my own. I just hadn’t found a man that my body seemed to want yet—well, until now—and these were not the ideal circumstances.

Holy crap, did I want this guy. With his lips against my pulse, then a hint of a wet, velvety tongue licking over me, I didn’t even give a shit that he’d kidnapped me. For whatever reason, I just knew he wouldn’t hurt me. My hormones had officially made me a dumbs.

“You smell so good.” He took a deep breath and let it out with a groan.

“Name,” I whispered. “I need to know your name.”

“Smoke,” he said in a low voice, and I sighed at how damn good his teeth felt gently scraping over my throat.

“Smoke, I like that. My name’s Swan.”

He laughed, a hot puff of air against my sensitive skin. “I know.”

Moving slowly, he began to kiss up my throat to my lips and I really, really wanted to kiss him. While his mouth was busy seducing me, he began to stroke my waist with his big hands, my skin warming until I burned for him. I swore I could almost smell my arousal in the air and when his lips brushed mine I moaned in a most wanton manner. Smoke grinned and rubbed his mouth over my lips, gentling me, somehow calming me despite the fact that the sexiest guy in the world was kissing me in the middle of a dingy basement. I’d never had a man turn me on like that and I was almost helpless against him, unable to think past the way he was making me feel.

“Knew you were meant for me,” he whispered against my skin. “Knew it the second I saw you that it would be amazing between us. But I had no idea how fucking good you would feel, how well you’d respond for me.” His breath came out in a low rush. “Unfortunately, this is not the time or the place, but there is no fucking way I’m not getting a taste.”

When his tongue brushed over my lips I opened for him and he grasped my breasts with both hands then squeezed gently. I moaned into his mouth and arched into his touch. It almost felt like he was touching my needy pussy when he handled my breasts like that.

“Baby,” he groaned. “You taste like sugar. Can’t wait to have your pussy melting on my tongue.”


With over thirty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

 From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that   often  was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann loves to talk with her fans, as long as they realize she's weird and that sarcasm doesn't translate well via text. You can find her at:




GRAND PRIZE: Signed print copy of ‘Exquisite Trouble’, $25 Amazon GC, and an Iron Horse MC Property of Smoke t-shirt

RUNNERS UP:  Five runner’s up will each receive an eBook of their choice from Ann's backlist
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Saturday, April 5, 2014

When Love is all there is in a gritty life: Bare Bones

The Bare Bones
The Bare Bones MC series #1
by Layla Wolfe
a Gritty MC Biker Erotica Romance
from Quicksilver Books
Review by pearls:
This is not a happy story about loving millionaire or even the boy next door.  This is the realistic, gritty story of two children who grew up with shitty parents.  Their lives were filled with abuse and despair from day one.  Madison coped by running and hiding; Ford by fighting.  Both learned to bury their feelings.  And then they found one another.  You could actually feel the sun come out of the clouds and shine upon them at that initial teenage meeting, and you could see the cloud cast over by their parents' presence. 
This story scans from teenage years to adulthood, taking us from the innocence of a teen crush to the passion of adult love.  And through it all, their lives continue to be the same gritty existence.  She's still hiding  and he's still fighting.  But their love never dies. And this is the heart of the story.  As much as you hate to see the life they can't escape, you hope and cheer for their love to overcome, to be enough. 
Chapters are told in alternating points of view, with Madison's in her 1st person reflection and Ford's in a 3rd person narrative.  The result is a mixture of emotional and action storytelling.  The supporting cast is vividly described.  Jumps in time are not always well explained, but this could be because I read an ARC.  The voice of Madison and the narrator pull you in with a pacing that clicks right along -- I read for four straight hours without coming up for air!
If you ain’t living on the edge, you’re taking up too much room.

The rose-colored illusion of Madison Shellmound’s girlish crush on biker Ford Illuminati is stomped into smithereens by his crude, perverse father Cropper, Bare Bones club President. Fearing Ford will kill Cropper if he finds out, Madison flees town, becoming an upstanding cardiology nurse.

Madison and Ford have an ill-fated, star-crossed love that will last their lifetimes. Ford is a lifer in a different sort of enterprise, the gritty full-throttle club of guns, blood, and allegiance to his brothers.

Twelve years and several tours of SEAL duty later, Ford is thrust back into Madison’s arms on the worst day of his life. Madison’s prospect brother Speed has screwed up big-time and owes the club his life. She offers herself to Cropper as a sacrificial lamb to save Speed.

But how long until the fiery, full-on outlaw Ford discovers that the woman he loves was treated like a degraded slave by his own father? Well, meet the new boss. He’s not the same as the old boss.
Note: This is not your mother's romance. Readers will encounter molestation, drugging, consensual bondage and discipline, violence, and a HEA. It's a full-length novel of 65,000 words. Recommended 18+ due to content.
Purchase Links

About the Author

Layla Wolfe is a wannabe biker's old lady who is satisfied with a leather jacket, one bad-ass pink camo compound bow, and a vicarious outlaw lifestyle.

Layla has published 25+ erotic romance titles under the name Karen Mercury.
Contact Layla Wolfe at:
twitter username   @LaylaWolfeAutho